Greatest show on Earth

I didn’t used to, but now have a soft spot (spots?) for the like of T Lobang Rampa, Paramahansa Yogananda, Swami Prabhupada, Ramtha, Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, Madame Blavatsky, Don Juan and their ilk. It bothered me whenever so-called yogis, mystics and holy rollers would state, vacant grins painted across their faces, that everything in the world was is perfect the way it was.
 
What utter rubbish! Didn’t they watch the news and read the papers? By a very long chalk, everything obviously was not all right. How could they say so? Now, however, I’ve changed my mind. I see that they are right. You see, the universe is set up like a fair. It has rides, amusements, stalls and shows. Good or bad, they all feel incredibly real. They are designed to make us feel involved.  

One approach to life is to give it the works. Inside whatever giant alien you discover yourself housed, you floor its pedal. ‘The devil take the hindmost’ is your motto. You give it heaps and go all-out. You barrel hell-for-leather down life’s highway. Finally, you burst across the finish line not necessarily with your vehicle in the best nick, or with the most possessions—he who dies with the most toys wins—but as if you'd tumbled down a roller-coaster of a mountain. You broadside to a stop in a cloud of dust, bruised, bleeding, exhausted and out of breath but with a smile on your face. "What a hell of a ride that was!" you grin.
 
And look at all the models and styles of vehicle that we get to enjoy!  We have before us a fantastic and limitless variety of DVDs or computer game modules that we get to live through, not vicariously, but for real (as real as anything can be said to be).

We come in different sizes, shapes, ages, colours and sexes. There are different cultures, customs, languages, time periods and geographical locations. There are different states of health to experience, and different physical bags of attributes to master or waste at our pleasure. We live at both ends of the spectrum and every conceivable position in between. And that’s just as humans! Truly, the mind boggles.
 
All of us, every human, animal and plant, are God to the extent that Dog’s consciousness can shine, squeeze or express itself through our being. In most cases, that being's opening is very small. You don’t see much evidence of divine inspiration in most of us.
 
But it needs to be that way. Unless the openings are small, it would be impossible to maintain the necessary illusion of separateness. God wants to be having these relationships, you see. However, it’s only possible to have a relationship with someone other than yourself. If the two parties suspected that they were actually one, then that would take away some of the fun.
 
Generally speaking, of course.
 
Present company excepted.
   

Technicolor dream

The sense of self is relative. It relies on the fact that the external environment is not you. You can't be you unless there is something that you aren’t. There has to be that boundary.
 
The essence of the Rickmansworth meme is that there is only one being who experiences him-, her-, or itself (us-self) through every form of life. It’s all-inclusive. It includes all of those who are, as well as all of those who were or will be. If there are parallel universes then they are also in the mix.
 
And so, when the god boys say that it’s okay, it really is. Everything’s just fine and dandy with the universe. Whatever happens to you in life—whether you win the lottery, or whether you become confined to to a wheelchair, it doesn’t matter. Not ultimately.
 
Oh, it may hurt all right. The tooth may pain as it is pulled—I’m sure I’d fume and fuss along with the best of them. But that doesn’t change the fact that, although each of our stories seem so real, and our programming makes us cry, laugh or scream, it’s all but a technicolor dream. 

The whole circus has been set up with just one purpose in mind: to provide everyone with entertainment. That’s why we’ve been compartmentalized. At heart we’re all essentially the same; we’re one. But that won’t do—you can’t put on a great performance with just a bunch of clones (witness synchronized swimming).
 
Some magic wand has conjured up the illusion that we’re all different and separate. We’re portals opening out into one another. We’re here for each other’s entertainment—hey, it's good to meet you! The circle game is how God passes away the time. That’s the grand conspiracy that we’re an unwitting part of. Think of it as a grand twiddling of thumbs.