Shamanic Social Engineering: A Walkthrough

This post is not related to the [Computer Security field domain of ‘social engineering’] Or [the Government-Race-Focused field of genetic engineering], dear fuming sensitivities.. my ‘lovies’.

I am guilty of many Error, Error, Errorssssssss; the gravest of them being in the areas of Engrrish Grammar, Mother-Tongue-Why-Use-It-Parochial, Hindi-AryanBundu-MeinDelhiSeHooooBehenChoChenreziDramyen, and Poochie Neutralization. I’m not trying to be snobby (with the Oxford Coma), but I’ve misused the word ‘Shamanism’ in many ways. It is a loaded word that conjures up different things in the minds of the people. We do not learn anything about such phenomena in authoritative media, so it’s unfair to point fingers at the ignorant.

Carlos Castenada’s or the more venerable Ruth Benedict’s writings introduced us to the idea that the seer –the word shaman’s etymological root/the or original meaning used by the ancients– is also connected to non-magical classes of social manipulators; the relationship between these manipulators and the seer vary depending on the social climate that are dependent on many factors (such as Covid-19, recent simulated event, or the Black Death). These manipulators may be in the vast spectrum of relationships (enemies, lovers, the-blade-bonded, minions, disciples, peers, or fans). In that sense calling a simulation where the effect of a speaker in the debate room of a reputed university is negated with a gross act, is a shamanic act, even though no ‘seership’ in the purest sense wasn’t used in the situation; there may or may have been a seer affiliated with or behind the group as the simulation is in the domain of religious war, one that is also a racial war and a war of ideas, Being and evolution).

I want to discuss what ‘shamanic social engineering’ looks like at its ugliest. Let us travel to a place that I will never go to again, if I can help it.

Case Study 1:

Be Objective by not sinking your consciousness… mourn and come back if you feel like donating some tears to the victims

Probable Scenario: You are a Good Cop working for the corrupt U.P Police Force: Pajeet Kulkinder. If you are fuzzing the truth with your subconscious racial projections, let’s step back a little.

The location is Peechi Island run by the Cat Tribe. A Skunk Tribe girl was murdered by a band of Cat Tribe losers. News of it has reached all the way to the Eagle Tribe (Antartica) and the DollarocknRollas (Artictic Fucks)Tribe. The Cat Tribe island elders make sure the media hide them by hiding their tribe name. “Just say high-born tribe”, the Cat Tribe Gangster Mr. Phool Pindari said, as he handed over some rabbit droppings to the Police force. You are John Doe Dynamite, Super Cop… hot shot of the Who-gives-A-Fuck tribe. You were out honeymooning in no-phone-service-land so you have no clue what the hell had happened the time when the Skunk Tribe girl was burned like an unwanted tampon by your own ‘guardian force’.

Do you

(1)Investigate (2)Go on a Murdering Rampage (3)Expose the Tribe to the Media (4)Expose the Cat Tribe Perpetrators (5) Expose 4 and the Secret Society backing of their Tribe

[Psychic Poll: Shoot Prana into the Options. I will pick the most-charged/emotive option]

You hear many voices from the collective…. “Investigate” says the Higher Voice of Water”, “Go on a Murdering Rampage” says the Abyss of Blades… You shake your head. The energy of the place is conducive to fleshing out the last voice; it’s scary and ugly. But the thought of this place of justice, your Temple, being the murder-grounds for evil shake the core of your being. Your rip away the Police Insignia and storm out of your ‘office’. The other Cops take no mind of Jerry Maguire; they have a mob of Cattle to shock-prod.

Meanwhile, the Relatives of the Skunk Tribe girl are being ‘reasoned with’.

Case Study II: (Replace all Labels with our current scenario labels. The Skunk Town Girl’s Uncle is the victim [Negative points for projecting racial themes, or out-of-band character projections. No, I’m not threatening you… we are ‘Sciencing’!]):

[Major Plot Twist] [Decision in the next scenario will affect the final outcome your Temple]

As you walk away thinking of what to do next, you remember that you left your [Weapon of Choice: Sniper] back in the office.

Do you [1] Walk back into the Police Station and retrieve your Weapon-Of-Choice [2] Head to the underground Dons and purchase an untraceable but unreliable Available-Weapon [Or 3] Ignore the thought and continue walking to where you are lead

?>_ 3 (also [Abort == Fail], [F]orget, [H]ead back to Honey-Moon-Land] anytime during the thought-pathways)

Your Song of Honey-Moon-Land

You walk away into the night…

[Alarm Beeps]

You wake up… what happened last night? a song plays every time you attempt to remember. You brew your coffee… Sip, Sip … Puff, Puff … Flush, Flush [Look] Flush again.

You pick-up the day’s Their-Stories-Only Papyrus-of-Truth:

[Skunk SquirrelMonkey Tribe Girl’s Parents Found Dead: Note Found]

You pick up a chunk of reality-poo from the Headline: “So they killed the family to dilute the point-of-covergence and fuzzed any further attempts of honest investigations into finding authoritative-as_in_print-Truth”, the Big Brother voice says in a deep but un-resigned tone. There are needles in your head… not everyone thought you were Jerry Maguire.

[Hmmm… this is the part where you pick your own music and control the collective-narrative]

To the John Doe Dynamites and Ruth Benedictini ChakraVyuhams

Not the Boys or a Gaiman Turd

— Several ships advance to various directions, all seeking to find the Truth within —

You notice one lonely ship still docked by the harbor. You advance towards an old scraggy sailor who is busy wiping the sea out of an ancient masthead. You notice that the figure is that of a gargoyle; funny, it seemed like a bat as you were approaching. There is no sailor. You climb up the old ship hoping the sailor had climbed back in during the split-seconds you were immersed in the fog.

You notice that two figures, an old couple, are surrounded by a group of peop… no, shades of people. They take no note of you as you approach them. Perhaps they cannot see you... or perhaps they are all cursed.

Do you [1] Join them [2] Leave the Ship immediately! There may be no return. Honeymoon Land is still a place of refuge… but not growth.

You cannot decide… you pull a card out of your Major Arcana deck. You notice that you do not control your hand anymore:

The Card Is ?

You sink into an Otherwordly song. Your divination cards are missing. Does it really matter now?

You open your eyes{…………………..[]……………..}

You see two figures being tortured by an Octopus made up of a million Cats… Howling obscenities at the crying couple.. persuading them to kill themselves… mocking the death of their child… the faces and sounds the child made as she was being caste-appropriated… Fire

You open your eyes and wake up again… this time you are back in your room.

You absorbed a lot of Heat… A shell seems to prevent you from burning, but you feel the pain, not just in the Eye, but in your whole Being. You wonder what this fuel is… and if you would see the sailor or the ship again.

The song… no a different one from the same place.

You remember Batlin’s words… it was the first time you saw the scholar be genuinely moved, dancing with the dark clouds of the Armageddon spell. You were in Skara Brae 24 or so years ago, but remember nothing of the Tortured One, the Prajapati whose flesh begat the realms, the __ many names of the couple escape your language.

“To Investigate, as you chose so consciously, is to sink into that being investigated… to emotionally be one with the that which is, the that which was, the that which would have been, and the that which would never be”, a Voice!

“Surely the Truth, that which elevates the soul, cannot be a stinging poison drawing one closer to the murky realms of evil”, you plead. You wanted justice and in return all you acquired was the curse. No Response.

You notice a card over your pillow. You flip it:

You make no sense of it… the heat is too much to sink all the images in… all that grabs your attention is the smiley-face etched in poison. Surely, the Tortured One of Skara Brae wasn’t smiling.

“What is it that drew me to him and made me ask The Question?”… you remember Batlin’s corpse as your conjured Death Bolt pierced through every cell of his being. “You will go to a place where all your questions will be answered for no fee”… the answers being the ultimate punishment.

You get up and walk away. You’ve learned the Truth… now is not the time for mourning:

Continue Investigating in the Physical Reams?

Y/N/[Keep the Investigating Daemon On and Continue Onwards / Mana Hit+Energy Hit+ Projection Hit]?

You fumble for your card deck when an image flashes on your television screen:

You hear more voices!

A Blizzard Approaches…. [ Watch Muted]

You look at the Being taking form…

You project vague forms… tainted by technology and deflection… this time you decide to close your eyes and stare right into the figure’s eyes:

Your eyes project strange patterns… but all is clouded by technology, broken narratives… you decide to close your eyes and look into his eyes… the eyes of the Tortured One.

Letting go… you look into his for the first time, again

You retire for the day. Something has changed as you studied the Codex.

The Journey lay ahead… not to seek answers to questions that will be revealed in time… but to Be.

You pull out the original codex –only fragments were captured– and hope for Magic.

Now that we have Magic, let’s change the tune a little:

You proceed to a different Vision:

A Serious Party is Happening

Focus Mode:
Focus Mode:
Focus: Or

What Card did you pick?

Shoutzz to the Wave I kids!

I can do this offline, you know… Ask the Pokherized 🙂

How is U.P doing? UP-UP-DOWN-DOWN-H.P+L.K

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