More of Phil’s Madness

Another Self-Contained Fable of Phil and Cassandra:

“So, you think that the secret to free will is madness?”

“Yup,” answered Phil.

The waiter set down the plate in front of Phil.

“What about logic?” asked the waiter.

“When you allow the division of zero, logic is merely a subset of crazy which does not allow the division of zero. Only those already  capable of being logical can get anything out of logic.”

Phil paused for effect and continued.

“The question is HOW does an insane man or child or a dying dementia patient attain a fullness of free will, if not, but for anything else save madness?”

“That’s insane,” said the waiter.

“Yup. Answered Phil. “You see, free will is not only a logically impossible choice to believe in, but it is ALSO a logically impossible choice to be able to create one’s own self-creating crazy.”


Phil took a beat and continued.

“You see … the freedom a being has is not in what kind of logic it want’s to follow, but what kind of BATSHIT one wants to manifest. Our freedom is the right to choose our own crazy in real time.”

“So what kind of crazy are you right now?” asked the waiter.

“Right now, I choose to believe that every point in a plane is its center. Every point in space is the center. Every self is a nothing. Not just NOTHING but “A” nothing. So, I am the center and so are you, and we can choose to create a cornucopia of realities to enjoy. And for me, the point is to LOVE THEM ALL IN REAL TIME. Especially, those that rend us helpless and broken beyond repair — those that make enlightenment unattainable in a specific lifetime. For those lives? Those are the TRUTH. Those are the bonus lives. Those are the lives that make freedom possible and to be most cherished. Only the greatest of madnesses can conquer them.”

The waiter face showed sign of deep concern for Phil’s sanity. And then he realized, Phil wasn’t sane by his own admission and went back to work.

Phil ate his meal. He paused and just felt the insanity that was the foundation of his sane selves across the multiverses. He felt it rage. He felt it calm.

Then he tapped a message into his A-11 and promptly teleported across the multiverse.

Cassandra Horribly Abused – Again

Another Self-Contained Fable of Phil and Cassandra:

“Lipstick lesbians are your thing huh?,”asked Cassandra of the Monsignor.

“You chose this life of yours, and God is using my sin to punish yours,” said the Monsignor as he prepared for the daily crime.

“Yeah, well your God is toast when I get ahold of him.”

“Such sacrilege will be punished by me – TODAY,” said the Monsignor.

Cassandra looked at the calendar posted on the wall.  The Monsignor gave it to her so she could at least know the time. She marked the calendar each day with a crayon and the day count had reached thirty one.

One month.

One. Awful. Month. Of. Daily. Rape.

Light from her barred window let her know when it was day or night. The food wasn’t bad for a rapist, he did give her whatever music and books she wanted IF they passed his tests for holiness, and if she was good, she would get cable someday.

He promised and boasted on how she could trust his word.

Needless to say, the reading and media list sucked. The rapist was a drug addled rocker as a young man before he was converted by a devotee of Opus Dei, so he had a soft spot for musical freedom and let her listen to whatever she wanted.

Not much consolation for daily rape of a woman who found sex with men disgusting.

Still, Cassandra was impressed with his detail management. He had really planned everything out. Every means of escape or attack had been anticipated by him and handled either ahead of time or in real time. No sharp objects. No stones or metal to grind the metal chain against. Charcoal and paper were the only things allowed for her art projects. No pencils.

Every night before the rape, he would turn on the radio in the chamber next to her cell. For some reason, he always raped her to the same radio station. And whatever was playing he would define his rape of her in the spirit of that broadcast. If it was news, he would be matter of fact. If it was music, he would adapt stylistically to the music.

Cassy held her chain in her hand and looking at it spoke to him.

“You aren’t special you know. And neither am I. I cannot avoid the results of rape or torture even if I leave this chamber.”

“You won’t leave,” he said. “Not alive anyway.”

“That’s supposed to scare me and it does. But you need to understand something. I’ve survived a lot worse than you. As far as torture goes, you’re a pansy. See, you don’t know me. You don’t know my story. And to be truthful, I don’t know all MY stories either. But I learn and create more and more of them everyday.”

The monsignor stayed silent and started undressing in the chamber next to her cell.

“The problem with you is that you really don’t understand what heaven is.”

“Really?” he said.

“Really. If you give me a smoke, I’ll tell you about it before you rape me and then you can believe you are surprising me with this new idea you have called torture because, let’s face it, you’re getting bored with plain old rape about now.”

He looked at her for a long time. He slowly got up and pulled out a pack of Winstons from his jacket. Cassandra looked with disgust at his tighty whities hanging limp off his sagging frame. He lit it. Blew a puff into the air and placed it to his extension pole and reached it through the cell to Cassy.

Cassy picked it up and then took a long draw. It had been weeks since she had a cig. Then she blew in a way so confident that he was struck by the fact that she wasn’t broken yet.

“So, show me heaven,” he said.

“Sure,”Smiled Cassy. “You see, MY heaven is actually a continuum of free beings and not the grovel-fest of your New Testament. It is a supportive dimension of beings that create themselves and are co-created of themselves. Each is their OWN god. Each is independently self-supporting paradox. Each maintains their self support by helping the others be independent and self-supporting. So, in a sense, it’s a realm where everyone is 100% self sufficient and 100% dependent at the same time. They are, in fact, hackers of the multiverses. Any can leave of course, but they lose the protection of the collective and have to face this dark universe alone. BUT …”

She took another long draw and talked through smoke.

“Their collective is NOT their secret sauce! It’s not what makes their heaven heaven.”

“So, what’s their secret sauce that makes it heaven,” he laughed. “I suppose you are going to try to obtain favors from me with this information.”

“Oh … THAT … no, no. No favors. It is YOU who are favoring me Monsignor. You see, the secret sauce of heaven is the ability to face even worse realities than this as enlightenment itself. The ability to face ANY situation with courage, and ESPECIALLY … ”

He tipped her cigarette at him with her fist.

“ESPECIALLY our inability to do just that and fail miserably in the attempt. THAT is the best part – the failure of that declaration. That instant when the spirit falls to the domination of another who is intent on destruction and control. You see, THAT is the truth Monsignor. THAT is what your God does in his hell. But your God misses ONE thing. That I exist in other realms, and other Universes and I even occur several times in THIS universe.  I choose in these realms through my imagination to be very aware of what is going on here RIGHT … NOW. And I am actively supporting this version of me as my ability to handle your abuses declines. MY grace is sufficient unto me EVEN AS my ego and free will is destroyed. My other selves will remember. Will confront it. Will transcend it. And WILL send that grace to me.”

“That’s sacrilege!” he yelled. He felt himself growing harder. Cassy could see he was getting hornier by the second at her sacrilege.

“Oh, it gets better oh Horny Holy Man,” she smirked. “Then there is the unlistable free beings: the Buddhas, the Bodhisattvas, the Atmans, the Spirit Guides, the Quiet Ones and so many other types of liberated beings that it is impossible to number or list them. THEY WILL HELP ME AS I FALL. THEY WILL HOLD ME AS I BREAK. THEY WILL SUPPORT ME LIKE A FLOOR HOLDS A BROKEN GLASS. And there is my ONE. ONE especially who loves me in a way you never could. He loves me as a woman, and yet he knows he can never have me … AND  … yet he loves me even MORE because I am his mentor. HE WILL HELP ME.”

“I don’t see anyone here…” quipped the Monsignor.

The Monsignor turned on the radio to begin the nightly rape. The DJ was introducing a song.

“I don’t know why, but a man named Phil just gave me one thousand dollars to our station’s charity to play this song. So, stranger, thanks for helping “Kelly’s Kids” here at WRT in Dallas. Cassy, this is for you …”

The song “Show Me Heaven” began to play.

Cassy started crying. That was her and Helen’s love song.

“Phil …” she cried. “MY PHIL! I knew you would find a way to soothe me  …”

There you go
Flashing fever
From your eyes …

…You’ve such
Amazing grace…

Cassandra jumped up dancing with arms flailing, joy exploding…


Cassandra felt the love of uncountable beings sending grace, and she drank it in through every pore and every cell.

Her eyes cut through the Monsignor. Fear crossed his face as he beheld the force of her power. The grace of the liberated beings cutting through his ego delusion.

Then she tongue sliced him.

“You haven’t even created yourself yet. Your ego is merely a PRODUCT. You are JUST the little bitch of your petty, little GOD and his petty, little Mono-verse!” she declared standing tall with an outstretched finger.

Cassandra’s face lit up with liberation as tears sprung forth as a spring. She spun in a circle – her arms outstretched to the universes as her and Helen’s song echoed.

Then she stopped and looked at the floor as it caught and held her tears.

“My heaven is RIGHT HERE mother fucker in every reality and THIS ONE. And my angels are with ME and they kick your angel’s asses! How many times have I suffered worse in other realms? How many hells? How many prisons?

She laughed and roared so freely and with so much force that the Monsignor just sat down in shock.

“Look at you. You’re pathetic,” she said. “I am going to live this life a thousand more times just for practice! What a challenge indeed! And each time before I fall to your domination, I will laugh at you. I am willing this life a thousand lives myself. Right now!”

“I WILL THIS A THOUSAND TIMES,” she screamed. The building shook from her rage..

The Narcissistic Monsignor’s face tightened in anger by the shame put on him by Cassandra. He pulled the chain to bring her to the wall. Then he began to try and rape her. But his manhood was limp. Nothing was there. Cassandra, bound now to the wall by the retracted chain laughed again.

And then she spoke.



“Is that all you got? Soon this will be over. It will be an ‘it was’ for me to transcend with my creating will.”

He tried to work his penus into firmness.

Cassandra sighed sardonically. Then she quoted whimsically in a peace-living voice as he continued to try and get it up.

“All ‘It was’ is a fragment, a riddle, a fearful chance–until the creating Will saith thereto: ‘But thus would I have it.’–

“Until the creating Will saith thereto: ‘But thus do I will it! Thus shall I will it!’

“Thus spake Zarathustra,” she said. Then to drive the point home she goaded him.

“Friedrich …



Enraged, he threw her to the ground choking her. Cassy started blacking out. But her face, angelic, still drew hope from the beings she could feel.

Suddenly, the door to the chamber burst open and Phil entered with a baseball bat …

“Get off her asshole,” said Phil.

The naked monsignor got off Cassy. Cassy choked and coughed herself back into a corner.

“I had to use the A-11 to find you Cassy, I’m going to have to get the hell out of here the predators are already on my scent because of this jerk made me use inter dimensional tech. Fuck Cassy, I liked this planet!”

Cassy held up her hand to indicate it was going to take a few …

Phil tied up the rapist. Cassy got on the phone and called police.

“Get out of here,” she said. “I’m good.”


Phil’s Origin Story – Part 2

Another Self-Contained Fable of Phil and Cassandra:

After Phil jumped through the portal with Ald, he landed on a sandy beach with two suns blazing in the sky. He looked to his left and saw Ald dusting off himself.

Phil then peered through the shimmering portal and beheld an army of snarling green beings in hot pursuit of the technology he held on his wrist – all of them bearing a gaze right through the portal’s center at full speed. They were about five hundred feet from the opening.

Ald held up a controller he pulled from a pocket, pushed a button and the portal snapped shut trapping the snarling mess of trans-dimensional aliens wearing tacky jumpers on the other side.

“Aren’t you supposed to wait till the last possible minute like in the movies?” asked Phil.

“This isn’t the movies,” said Ald.

Phil looked around centering himself to face the fact that not only was this not a movie, it wasn’t a dream either. He gasped as he saw giant planet slowly fill the sky from the east and the suns were no longer the biggest things in the sky.

“Holy shit! We’re orbiting a Gas giant!” he said.

“Yeah,” said Ald dismissively. “Gum?”

“Why do you chew gum?” asked Phil.

“I don’t. You do.”


Phil took the gum.

“It’s time to finish your spiritual education for this version of you. Much of it, of course, will be batshit,” said Ald.

Phil looked nervous as Ald continued.

“The one core spiritual truth is that we are ALL fucked.”


“You heard me. Fucked. Hosed. Done over. Sold up river.”

“Surely, there is more than that?”

“Nope. That’s it. The key is to realized that we are all fucked and know that there is no way out of the fucking. We are all FOREVER FUCKED. The key is to not be a sissy about it.”

“How are we fucked?” asked Phil.

“You already said it on the other side of the portal. We cannot tell if we exist or not as a being. There is no proof at all. There are spiritual experiences a plenty; stories by the truckload. Testimonies bundled and piled on pallets, but no proof. Just the hubris one can create by believing one actually exists.”

“So, that’s it? We’re fucked? That’s the truth of the universe?”

“Yeah, but there are another four and I assure you they won’t hold up to scrutiny.”

“Wait a sec,” said Phil getting a bit excited. “Am I my own protagonist in a sic-fi adventure? Am I the ‘chosen one’ to save the universe from total destruction?,” asked Phil with a nerd’s enthusiasm.

“Nah. Just that you are just dumb-ass lucky enough to not use that wrist watch for your own interests. The continuum of free beings trusts you with it because you are a sucker and you are strongly not stupid. You don’t actually SAVE the universe. You CONTRIBUTE to the creation of the continuum of cool beings who have hacked the system. That’s it.”

“Doesn’t sound like much help actually,” said Phil.

“Everything adds up Phil. The butterfly effect is real. And some butterflies are more important than others. You want to know where I learned these?”

“K. Where?” said Phil.



“Yes. See the problem is that reincarnation is more diverse and weird than one thinks it is. You can reincarnate in different universes, different timelines, reincarnated false selves, reincarnated true selves, different real worlds, different dreams, different simulations etcetera. And in ONE of those, you told me these four ideas. So guess what I do? I decided to fucking track you down and TELL YOU WHAT YOU TOLD ME.”

“Shouldn’t I figure it out for myself?”

“You’re not that creative this time around. Actually, you are boring as fuck in this life and that red head you dream of doesn’t appear here.”

“Damn,” said Phil.

The truth hurt and Phil knew it. Ald slapped Phil’s shoulder to cheer him up.

“What you told me is that the whole free-will notion of reality is fucked until one understands FIRST how to CREATE a free will. And THAT is actually free will itself. Everything after that is “Force Will.”

“Force will? Like Star Wars?”

“No stupid, because ‘the Force’ is not with a ‘the’ but rather a ‘your.’ There is no ‘The Force’ but there CAN BE a ‘Your Force’ and a ‘My Force’ and the unlistable transfinite  forces of others. But is is a creating thing. So, free will is the false self creating the decision that manifests the true ego that can THEN create Force Will as it directs. So ‘free will’ is the ability to exist. ‘Force Will’ is the ability of that created free-will self to act.”

“You are fucking me with terminology.”

“No worries. I’ll convey a written version of this conversation so you will remember it. Now,  listen up to these four batshit ideas of yours.”

Ald leveled his eyes at his friend and remembered the thousands of times he met him before. And then, he got mockingly pious and quoted Phil.

“ONE! The first thing to realize is that the self and soul is actually a delusion. It doesn’t exist and the idea of ego is actually created by external forces to one’s self.”

Phil looked sad.

“TWO! The delusional self can realize that it is in fact a delusion and face that fact with courage knowing that manifesting a version of a real self that is scientifically provable is, in fact, FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE.”

Ald paused for effect holding his finger in the air like a prophet with a smug expression of his species. To Phil, it didn’t look smug, it looked angry and Phil wondered why Ald was so pissed off at him.

“THREE! AS A FALSE SELF THAT REALIZES IT IS FALSE, that self can imagine OTHER false selves of oneself that realize that they are also false, and be aware of each other through the power of the imagination granted through the universes that forged them.”

This time Ald looked determined, and Phil actually saw that he was looking determined and not some other emotion.

“FOUR! When these false versions see each other, they can join as one and CHOOSE TO EXIST ANYWAY IN A TRANS-VERSE OF AWESOMENESS. Free Will doesn’t exist because a false self cannot actually attain it. But other false selves CAN join and decide to support each other as one true self manifesting force-will. Force-will DOES exist as the false selves create their own egos by facing the fact they are false, and then making the decision to BE. FREE. ANYWAY. Force Will is the result of a decision to not be a false self ANYWAY. And then life itself becomes an act of faith.”

Phil didn’t move.

“FIVE! … “said Ald.

“You said four …”

“This is the fifth of the four ideas …”

Ald looked smug again. Phil read the emotion wrong again.

“FIVE! Each version of you and any other member of the continuum of free beings MUST find his own unique path to liberation. There is no ‘dharma’ or ‘religion’ or ‘technology’ that can save you or anyone else. As a free, independent, unique being, your liberation must also be free, independent and unique to YOU … AND … ”

Ald held his hand in a gesture Phil didn’t recognize. He had an expression Phil didn’t understand and he spoke in a tone that sounded like Phil should know it, but in fact he didn’t.

“There’s a catch …”, said Ald.

“Which is?” asked Phil.

“You need others to find it, manifest it and release it in yourself and you must help others do the same. Beings that won’t catch you in THEIR liberation path, but will help you create your own. Some will be part of the continuum, others won’t, and these others will choose alternate realities from yours. But you CAN choose to be part of the continuum of free beings that each are their own Gods and each each other’s equal. Each self-sufficient. Each co-created. Each master of their own universes, each helping the others master their own universes.”

“Sounds like new age bullshit to me.”

“Oh, it IS new age bullshit Phil, trust me on that. Nobody here has superpowers except in their dreams,” said Ald. “The Question is … is it YOUR new age batshit? And what are YOUR superpower dreams and ARE YOU ENJOYING THEM?”

Phil didn’t answer.

“Time to wrap up,” said Ald. “This planet has a version of baseball a little different than yours. Learn the changes and go coach some kids. Don’t use the wristwatch unless it is REALLY necessary. It will attract predators who want it’s power.”

“Yeah, you told me that already,” said Phil.

“You can use it for little favors without making a lot of noise to attract snarlies. You could order tacos if you wanted.”

“That’s it? Tacos?”

“Pretty much,” said Ald.

“I can get a job and buy tacos.”

“Yes you can Phil. Yes you can,” said Ald.