Or—having a deceased twin sister makes me unusual: in symbiosis to a dead (sic) person, & in telepathic contact with her. Or maybe I’m just a genius. No, I’m not. But I am curious. I love epistemological riddles. & so now I’ve got one, a superb one. It’s ultimate. Just theoretically, its formulation couldn’t be beaten. I love it. I’ll solve it.
I regard the two-proposition formulation about “am I alive or ...” etc. as a brilliant application of the “UBIK” puzzle to my own self. But I can’t take credit for formulating it; it was presented to me. Whoever the funning player is, she is a delight. Sophia, I think it is you.
One thing I must posit as absolutely veridical: the power of Karma over me was broken completely in 374. So at the very least, I am 1) dead to the way-of-being in the world I had known; & 2) alive to a new free way of being, & progressively more so.
(1978)
Dream: I am Jerry Lewis, a contemptible clown, but admired by millions, esp. in France. In a parking lot I fall, & lie down to die. At once my fans gather from everywhere, & close in around me to protect me, giving military salutes; it is a heroic scene, the dying leader & his loyal troops.
(1979)
What does it mean-how can it be-to die & come to life? I died & came to life. It is a mystery. I remember dying. There can be no doubt about it. & then I could see; I was no longer blind. I was on the outside of the universe looking in; everything was reversed. & it was 2000 years ago. I remembered. Who am I now? Thinking in Greek, & the healing & the prophecy. Saint Sophia will be born again; she was not acceptable before.
The palm trees. The garden.
Ich bin er. Das weiss ich. Immer kommt es dazu zurück. Wie viel sind er? Und wo? & wie? Die zeit ist heir! [I am him. That I know. Ever will he come back again. How many will we see him? And where? & how? The time is now!]
(1979)
How can I ascertain my role? Did I do something? Absolutely. But I don’t know what I did, so I don’t know who (so to speak) I am in the drama. Was something done for me? Absolutely yes. There are, then, two aspects. I became some one (whom I call Thomas) & as Thomas I did something—I know not what—& something was done for me (I was rescued, but I don’t know from what). In the antithetical dialectic between the rightful king & the old tyrant-usurper I was with (or was?) the rightful king (represented in my book as Taverner): exculpated and rescued, but also bringing down doom on the tyrant. This is the “priest of Dionysus” role, the stranger.
It is the legitimate power which when “crucified” (humiliated & killed, the latter perhaps symbolically[)]; viz.: I died & yet did not die—
Here is the mystery: humiliation & death & yet he is not dead—& what is more, he is now disclosed as he truly is: divine. For the first time.
The Gospels alone don’t make it clear; you have to add TEARS and The Bacchae,[The tragedy by Euripides.]—the stranger who 1) is arrested by the tyrant i.e. is innocent but/and victimized by the tyrant; 2) is exculpated; 3) but does in the tyrant in such a way that a mortal blow is delivered (by him or through him or due to him) to the tyrant.
So he has a dual role: victim turned into instrument of destruction. This sums it up; the two roles blend into one role (v The Bacchae). This sounds like the bait-hook analysis of Christ, & it fits 3-74 & the xerox missive.
Since I don’t think I really pulled down the tyrant or anyone, 3-74 must be understood as mythic identification (esse) & ritual (drama with personae), it was a holy (sacred) ritual drama enacted outside of time. The salvation was spiritual more than pragmatic, then (& hence more important). I participated outside of time in the God’s arrest, humiliation (persecution), the trap, then triumph (reversal from innocent victim to agency of doom). But it was mythic, ritual, holy, re-enactment. The trapped turned out to be a trap (bait & hook), & resurrection in divine (transfigured) form. Unity (by adoption?) with the God who goes through it always—ah; the God was there in 2-3-74; I became the God by ritual identification. Christ, obviously.
(1979)
All I really know is that there is another mind [ . . . . ] responding—& entering into dialogue with my mind. It is like a hologram that I encountered, drawn from my own mind. Macro as mirror of micro, rather than the other way around? This is just unreal! The implications are: YHWH can create an infinite number of universes, & does. & what is more, he either is or is in these hologram response universes!
Let us recall Palmer E[ldritch]’s worlds at this point.
He did not wait for me to die to give me the universe (reality) I wanted. Does that mean we are in something like cold-pac? In some respects we are. But I do not know in what respects. But he simulated (mimicked) Valis, & my informational world. He, it, whatever it is, is a macro-mind that can cause to be whatever he wishes.
(1979)
It really does not make sense to say that the universe is irreal unless you have something real to compare it with. So the correct formulation is not “irreal,” which begs the question, but epiphenomenal, whereupon you look behind or beyond the epiphenomenon to see what its urgrund [primal basis of reality] is.
The answer is, the epiphenomenal is real insofar as it partakes of God & only insofar as it does. Thus I have to agree with Sankara that ultimate questions regarding ontology lead back to God.
However, God can transubstantiate the epiphenomenon into the real, by virtue of his immanent presence in it, as in the eucharist. Thus reality is viewed as a perpetual sacrament: with the formal eucharist as a micro-enactment of a continual macro-cosmic on-going process which I actually saw. The real, then, is sacred, even at the trash stratum, due to this transubstantiation.
5:00 a.m. realization: there’s no way of getting around it. I saw the world dissolve into Brahman; unitary & sentient—with plurality a magician’s trick (maya). I got it to dissolve into what it really is. “They reckon ill who leave me out.”[63] God did not break through into reality—no, reality revealed itself to be what it really is: Brahman. This is reversion not invasion. The illusion relaxed. Hence I said, “I am no longer blind.” This doesn’t fit in with theophany but it does with the disappearance of the tricks. “We are normally occluded” doesn’t fit in with a theophany but it does with reversion—the loss of the spell of maya.
I saw it as it really is: I saw with the ajna [third] eye.
(1979)
God manifested himself to me as the infinite void; but it was not the abyss; it was the vault of heaven, with blue sky and wisps of white clouds. He was not some foreign God but the God of my fathers. He was loving and kind and he had personality. He said, “You suffer a little now in life; it is little compared with the great joys, the bliss that awaits you. Do you think I in my theodicy would allow you to suffer greatly in proportion to your reward?” He made me aware, then, of the bliss that would come; it was infinite and sweet. He said, “I am the infinite. I will show you. Where I am, infinity is; where infinity is, there I am. Construct lines of reasoning by which to understand your experience in 1974. I will enter the field against their shifting nature. You think they are logical but they are not; they are infinitely creative.”
I thought a thought and then an infinite regression of theses and countertheses came into being. God said, “Here I am; here is infinity.” I thought another explanation; again an infinite series of thoughts split off in dialectical antithetical interaction. God said, “Here is infinity; here I am.” I thought, then, an infinite number of explanations, in succession, that explained 2-3-74; each single one of them yielded up an infinite progression of flipflops, of thesis and antithesis, forever. Each time, God said, “Here is infinity. Here, then, I am.” I tried for an infinite number of times; each time an infinite regress was set off and each time God said, “Infinity. Hence I am here.” Then he said, “Every thought leads to infinity, does it not? Find one that doesn’t.” I tried forever. All led to an infinitude of regress, of the dialectic, of thesis, antithesis and new synthesis. Each time, God said, “Here is infinity; here am I. Try again.” I tried forev
er. Always it ended with God saying, “Infinity and myself; I am here.” I saw, then, a Hebrew letter with many shafts, and all the shafts led to a common outlet; that outlet or conclusion was infinity. God said, “That is myself. I am infinity. Where infinity is, there am I; where I am, there is infinity. All roads-all explanations for 2-3-74—lead to an infinity of Yes-No, This or That, On-Off, One-Zero, Yin-Yang, the dialectic, infinity upon infinity; an infinities [sic] of infinities. I am everywhere and all roads lead to me; omniae viae ad Deum ducent [all roads lead to God]. Try again. Think of another possible explanation for 2-3-74.” I did; it led to an infinity of regress, of thesis and antithesis and new synthesis. “This is not logic,” God said. “Do not think in terms of absolute theories; think instead in terms of probabilities. Watch where the piles heap up, of the same theory essentially repeating itself. Count the number of punch cards in each pile. Which pile is highest? You can never know for sure what 2-3-74 was. What, then, is statistically most probable? Which is to say, which pile is highest? Here is your clue: every theory leads to an infinity (of regression, of thesis and antithesis and new synthesis). What, then, is the probability that I am the cause of 2-3-74, since, where infinity is, there I am? You doubt; you are the doubt as in:
They reckon ill who leave me out;
When me they fly I am the wings.
I am the doubter and the doubt ...[64]
“You are not the doubter; you are the doubt itself. So do not try to know; you cannot know. Guess on the basis of the highest pile of computer punch cards. There is an infinite stack in the heap marked INFINITY, and I have equated infinity with me. What, then, is the chance that it is me? You cannot be positive; you will doubt. But what is your guess?”
I said, “Probably it is you, since there is an infinity of infinities forming before me.”
“There is the answer, the only one you will ever have,” God said.
“You could be pretending to be God,” I said, “and actually be Satan.” Another infinitude of thesis and antithesis and new synthesis, the infinite regress, was set off.
God said, “Infinity.”
I said, “You could be testing out a logic system in a giant computer and I am—” Again an infinite regress.
“Infinity,” God said.
“Will it always be infinite?” I said. “An infinity?”
“Try further,” God said.
“I doubt if you exist,” I said. And the infinite regress instantly flew into motion once more.
“Infinity,” God said. The pile of computer punch cards grew; it was by far the largest pile; it was infinite.
“I will play this game forever,” God said, “or until you become tired.”
I said, “I will find a thought, an explanation, a theory, that does not set off an infinite regress.” And, as soon as I said that, an infinite regress was set off. God said “Over a period of six and a half years you have developed theory after theory to explain 2-3-74. Each night when you go to bed you think, ‘At last I found it. I tried out theory after theory until now, finally, I have the right one.’ And then the next morning you wake up and say, ‘There is one fact not explained by that theory. I will have to think up another theory.’ And so you do. By now it is evident to you that you are going to think up an infinite number of theories, limited only by your lifespan, not limited by your creative imagination. Each theory gives rise to a subsequent theory, inevitably. Let me ask you; I revealed myself to you and you saw that I am the infinite void. I am not in the world, as you thought; I am transcendent, the deity of the Jews and Christians. What you see of me in world that you took to ratify pantheism—that is my being filtered through, broken up, fragmented and vitiated by the multiplicity of the flux world; it is my essence, yes, but only a bit of it: fragments here and there, a glint, a riffle of wind ... now you have seen me transcendent, separate and other from world, and I am more; I am the infinitude of the void, and you know me as I am. Do you believe what you saw? Do you accept that where the infinite is, I am; and where I am, there is the infinite?”
I said, “Yes.”
God said, “And your theories are infinite, so I am there. Without realizing it, the very infinitude of your theories pointed to the solution; they pointed to me and none but me. Are you satisfied, now? You saw me revealed in theophany; I speak to you now; you have, while alive, experienced the bliss that is to come; few humans have experienced that bliss. Let me ask you, Was it a finite bliss or an infinite bliss?”
I said, “Infinite.”
“So no earthly circumstance, situation, entity or thing could give rise to it.”
“No, Lord,” I said.
“Then it is I,” God said. “Are you satisfied?”
“Let me try one other theory,” I said. “What happened in 2-3-74 was that—” And an infinite regress was set off, instantly.
“Infinity,” God said. “Try again. I will play forever, for infinity.”
“Here’s a new theory,” I said. “I ask myself, ‘What God likes playing games? Krishna. You are Krishna.’ ” And then the thought came to me instantly, “But there is a god who mimics other gods; that god is Dionysus. This may not be Krishna at all; it may be Dionysus pretending to be Krishna.” And an infinite regress was set off.
“Infinity,” God said.
“You cannot be YHWH Who You say You are,” I said. “Because YHWH says, ‘I am that which I am,’ or, ‘I shall be that which I shall be.’ And you—”
“Do I change?” God said. “Or do your theories change?”
“You do not change,” I said. “My theories change. You, and 2-3-74, remain constant.”
“Then you are Krishna playing with me,” God said.
“Or I could be Dionysus,” I said, “pretending to be Krishna. And I wouldn’t know it; part of the game is that I, myself, do not know. So I am God, without realizing it. There’s a new theory!” And at once an infinite regress was set off; perhaps I was God, and the “God” who spoke to me was not.
“Infinity,” God said. “Play again. Another move.”
“We are both Gods,” I said, and another infinite regress was set off.
“Infinity,” God said.
“I am you and you are you,” I said. “You have divided yourself in two to play against yourself. I, who am one half, I do not remember, but you do. As it says in the GITA, as Krishna says to Arjuna, ‘We have both lived many lives, Arjuna; I remember them but you do not.’ ”[65] And an infinite regress was set off; I could well be Krishna’s charioteer, his friend Arjuna, who does not remember his past lives.
“Infinity,” God said.
I was silent.
“Play again,” God said.
“I cannot play to infinity,” I said. “I will die before that point comes.”
“Then you are not God,” God said. “But I can play throughout infinity; I am God. Play.”
“Perhaps I will be reincarnated,” I said. “Perhaps we have done this before, in another life.” And an infinite regress was set off.
“Infinity,” God said. “Play again.”
“I am too tired,” I said.
“Then the game is over.”
“After I have rested—”
“You rest?” God said. “George Herbert[66] wrote of me:
Yet let him keep the rest,
But keep them with repining restlessnesse.
Let him be rich and wearie, that at least,
If goodness leade him not, yet wearinesse
May tosse him to my breast.
“Herbert wrote that in 1633,” God said. “Rest and the game ends.”
“I will play on,” I said, “after I rest. I will play until finally I die of it. ”
“And then you will come to me,” God said. “Play.”
“This is my punishment,” I said, “that I play, that I try to discern if it was you in March of 1974.” And the thought came instantly, My punishment or my reward; which? And an infinite series of thesis and antithesis was set off.
>
“Infinity,” God said. “Play again.”
“What was my crime?” I said, “that I am compelled to do this?”
“Or your deed of merit,” God said.
“I don’t know,” I said.
God said, “Because you are not God.”
“But you know,” I said. “Or maybe you don’t know and you’re trying to find out.” And an infinite regress was set off.
“Infinity,” God said. “Play again. I am waiting.”
(17 November 1980)
God said that I couldn’t know with certainty, but, instead, to watch where the computer punch cards piled up. Okay.
(1) As late as 11-16-80 (the day Ray[67] arrived) I theorized that Valis was the macrometasomakosmos[68] and the “second signal” and that this was the Cosmic Christ, not disguised as an invader in our universe but assembling itself out of our universe. So here you have the Cosmic Christ, seen in 3-74.
(2) In my anamnesis I remembered being a Christian, of the first century C.E. This was “Thomas.” He brought with him the original sacraments of the apostolic secret church.
(3) On 11-17-80 I experienced a theophany and God turned out to be the Christian God, of love (his nature was love). He told me that my problem was that I could not believe I had seen him, specifically him, in 3-74.
(4) Small details. Disinhibition by the Christian fish sign. The Acts material in TEARS. Seeing the world of Acts. Remembering the supratemporal eidos of the secret underground revolutionary Christians, of which I am one, battling the Black Iron Prison; what I call realm #3 or morphological arrangement.
In Pursuit of Valis Page 7