Vamos a ver

We built megalith miracles and pushed Wonder Woman whips.

I watched the Ancient Apocalypse: The Americas documentary on Netflix with my wife. It was fun, informative, one-sided, and mega trashy. I loved it, especially the wacky Keanu Reeves parts.

My next favorite parts were the ones where the show’s host, Graham Hancock, opined that the ancients did Ayahuasca, and when they showed ruins of the massive megaliths they built throughout the Americas. The Universe willing, my wife and I will visit the one in New Mexico later this month. 

Mr. Hancock pointed out that there’s no evidence that significant, permanent populations lived in or around these structures. I don’t remember whether or not he made the connection, but I sense that the megaliths and the medicine are linked. I believe these structures were giant plant medicine temples where all kinds of supernatural and magical stuff took place. 

Watching Ancient Apocalypse: The Americas triggered a blurp where, as a mature man, I served as boots on ground for the folks in charge of the temples, and my job was to roam the land like a mountain lion and report back. A perk of the job was using a superfast invisible vehicle similar to the whip Wonder Woman pushes. This was a dope encore career in a life where I didn’t earn a gold star for the first act because I did not love hunting and lacked decent medicine man game.

The blurp may be an aftershock of an earlier one I wrote about, but I’m unsure. My blurps are usually very airy, even the most vibrant ones. In contrast, one of my friends blurps out and has complex conversations with plants where they commune on a soul level and give her detailed recipes for various healing brews and tonics that work. My wife has intergalactic chop sessions in light languages I can’t comprehend with all types of entities that gift her magical powers.

Once, our tree sister friend had a group of us over for birthday pie and read a transcription she took of a tree shop talk where the timbers were dropping knowledge bombs left and right. I had to bust out the dictionary app on my phone to keep up with Treenglish, which has way bigger words than the ones this Oakland, California native uses to navigate the good King’s English.

My blurps aren’t like my tree sister’s. I get an energetic feeling, a vibe, and do my best to translate the feeling into words and mouth noises. Like how James Brown does it. Only I write the vibe, and Soul Brother Number One sings it, only you pronounce it “sangs it.”

I got the vibe that the ancients weren’t “abracadabra” magicians. Instead, they possessed superhuman awareness, lived as one with Nature, did loads of ayahuasca and stuff like that, and were the healthiest humans ever to walk the face of Mother Earth. My best friend was an ancient South American bird person when he journeyed on ayahuasca, so this tracks. Some of the ancestors might could’ve soared through the skies.

People came from far and wide to the temples to work with teams of shaman-scientists and receive biological and spiritual upgrades. It was like a pilgrimage. Once they received the upgrades, they returned to the land to live as one with it. 

I get the vibe that the shamans weren’t turning people away unless they believed someone would abuse the medicine or couldn’t handle it. Generally, all you had to do was get there, which not everyone could do. Local shamans performed ceremonies, and some tribes only sent the Top Gun best of the best for the Big Dawg megalithic upgrade temple pilgrimage. I’ve blurped into past lives where I didn’t get to go on the Big Dawg megalithic upgrade temple pilgrimage because I wasn’t strong enough in body or mind. Taking those Ls was painful. 

Even though I led at least a few lives where I couldn’t hang, the vibe is that the medicine was there for the people. 

The big Dawg temple shamans were like the megasmart mentats from Dune and possessed all kinds of soul power. I don’t vibe strongly with the mentats. They’re totally cool, but I don’t rock with them like that. You may have an egghead uncle or something like that who, after 20 minutes of chopping it up, starts talking about quantum stuff or whatever, and it’s just too much, and you need to shut it down. That’s how it is with me and the mentats. I don’t even get a visual of how they look. Perhaps they were light beings or something like that.

They were infinitely wise and understood that folks like me with wandering warrior spirits wouldn’t go for living in confined cities and needed to be nature nomads roaming the land and hunting, gathering, stomping around, chasing rainbows, and dancing with the stars. The land provided everything we needed to live lean, healthy, simple, reverent lives. It was paradise. ABUNDANCE.

I blurped into other past lives lived in the ancient Americas that weren’t so cush. I’ve been impaled by mammoth tusks, eaten alive by sabertooth tigers, drowned countless times, frozen to death in a cave where I let my woman down and failed to protect her (I couldn’t get the fire going cuz my hands got numb in the cold), and went through all kinds of other painful things like that. Even with the upgrades, it was a brutal world and a hostile planet.

With all the fierce megafauna on the free range who were megaduper down to feast on our families, it follows that the only way we could have survived in the wilds is if some of us could tap into superhuman awareness and physical feats on command to meet the moment. 

Some of us whispered to those magical beasts and kept them around as some kind of pets, like off of a pretend Pixar movie that I just made up in my mind. Who knows, maybe some troop of supersmart wooly mammoths kept old skool humans around as pets like from the real Pixar movie that came out when my 11-year-old son was little, only if the dinosaurs from that movie were wooly mammoths. I don’t think that actually happened in this universe we’re sharing. But if I can imagine it, it happened somewhere.

The shamans got so good at Aya and DNA work that humans who got upgrades received precisely what they needed to thrive. Mr. Hancock believes that this was a branch of an advanced world culture that communicated with each other through a global network across oceans, and I think he’s right. They communicated spiritually across dimensions and had a portal system for transportation related to the spiritual technology used to build megaliths like Stonehenge, the moai on Rapa Nui, Göbekli Tepe, and other ancient structures.

They built megalith miracles and pushed Wonder Woman whips.

I don’t love the term “telepathic.” I believe “energetic” or “electromagnetic” more accurately captures the vibe. I go with “spiritual” because I like it.

The ancient world culture was in balance and harmony with Nature but eventually stagnated. Some shaman-scientists on the other side of the globe got carried away with DNA stuff, “magic” became twisted and taboo, and the Universe (or God) shook things up with a cataclysm to force us to figure things out all over again. And this time, it’s harder, like how levels of video games get progressively more challenging.

The downfall part is hazy, and I don’t feel called to probe deeper into it. Doing so will likely overtax my brain. If I’m supposed to know more, Source will reveal the information if and when I need it.

Before things got weird, these magnificent ancient humans had a magical run that lasted thousands of years. A half blink of a cosmic eye, but still not too shabby. They didn’t do vaccines or anything like that, and I believe they got along way better than us until the cataclysm took them out.

Or maybe my Aya and the Ancient Apocalypse blurp’s way off, and it was the ancient ‘ronavirus that got em cuz they didn’t rock with vaccines. We’ll never know. 

Blurping can be fun, but sometimes I’d rather be doing other things like hiking or watching basketball. Sometimes, I start off hiking or watching basketball but wind up in rough parts of Blurptown. Some blurps come from a long, long time ago in galaxies far, far away. Those ones overtax my brain, and I don’t love going there. For that sort of reading, I highly recommend Delores Cannon books. Sister Delores holds it all together and crushes it. 

Some blurps don’t seem relevant in this reality, but the message I’m getting from this one is to do more ayahuasca. I’m officially signed up for a two-banger aya ceremony over New Year’s and plan to start setting my intentions soon.

Hopefully, as the frigid Minnesota winter sets in, I’ll get some upgrades to protect against the flu and other nasty bugs. Given the new blurping data I received, I don’t plan on getting another jab unless it’s like it was during Covid times and you have to get vaxxed to see live shows, ballgames, and participate in this reality. If we go there again, I’ll have some decisions to make. That might be the inflection point where I sell all my possessions, join an intentional community, and learn horticulture and how to raise chickens.

I used to think folks who didn’t vaccinate themselves and their kids were dopes. Now, all I know is that I don’t know what I don’t know. 

As my spirit brother who lives in Costa Rica likes to say, “Vamos a ver.”