The Invisible Empire

Cultural, Esoteric, Premium POM19 Comments

JC Collins

Some other power, some third class of individuals aside from the leaders and the scholars must exist, and this third class must have the task of thwarting mistakes, and nipping the causes of potential disturbances in the bud. There must be a body of men whose task it is to throw out the rotten apples as soon as the first spots of decay appear. A body of this nature must exist undercover. It must either be a power unto itself or be given the broadest discretionary powers by the highest authorities.”

From a 1945 report titled The World after the War: OSS-SOE, The Invisible Empire authored by the Harvard anthropologist Carleton S. Coon for OSS Chief William Donovan.

Holding my mother’s hand was a wonderful thing. Every day was the right kind of day when I got to spend time with her. She would get me candy and buy me G.I. Joe or He-Man: Masters of the Universe toys from the local drug store. There was a section in Aisle 4 just for toys, and I can see it as clear today as I did 37 years ago.

There wasn’t much else in town at that time other than the drug store and a few grocery stores. A mall was being built and a new high school had just opened. At the time there was only one mine in operation North of town and a second being built. More would come.

There were rumors that prostitutes had been buried underneath the massive concrete slab which supported the new refinery being built to process the oil coming out of the mine, and a wall of the high school had collapsed killing a worker. These are some of the important memories I have of that time.

There is also a smell which I can still smell sometimes now. The origin of the smell is lost on me. I don’t know what it is and I don’t know where I first smelled it. But it comes back to me in an instant for no apparent reason. It doesn’t matter if I’m driving on the highway or walking downtown in the city, when it comes it comes out of nowhere and vanishes just as fast. It always makes me think of some kind of baking, but I don’t really know.

There’s one memory which has always troubled me. It was a summer day and I was going with my mother so she could get her hair cut. The new high school had a beautician class which was providing free haircuts for those who didn’t mind the students practicing on them. Holding my mother’s hand we entered the school through one of the side doors. The hallway on the other side was long, sterile and empty. Cold fluorescent lights receded down the length of the corridor, disappearing into a pinpoint somewhere at the end. It made me feel uneasy.

We walked about a third of the way down the corridor and stopped at a door with a wooden bench just to the left. My mother told me to sit on the bench and not run off anywhere. Doing as I was told I climbed up on the bench and began playing with the Skeletor figure I had brought with me. Skeletor was He-Mans arch-nemesis. In my imagination, Skeletor always beat He-Man.

A long time passed and I was becoming quite bored. There suddenly came a clicking of heels on the hard floor of the corridor from further down the longer end. Turning my head I saw a well-dressed woman approaching me holding something in her hands. She didn’t smile and had something of a stern look on her face.

The woman stopped in front of me and I could see that she held Castle Grayskull, the fortified home of He-Man. Of all the toys it was Castle Grayskull which I wanted the most. The drug store had some a few weeks before and I begged my mother to get one for me. She couldn’t because it was too expensive and my father would get upset about spending so much hard earned money on junk.

The woman looked down at me and said: “You want this don’t you?”

“Yes”, I said.

“Well”, she continued, “if you come with me I will give it to you.”

Feelings of both fear and excitement passed through me. Hopping down from the bench I stared at the door with my mother somewhere on the other side getting her hair done. Staring back at the woman I nodded my head and she passed me the Castle Grayskull. Holding it tight against my chest with my right hand I took her outstretched hand with my left.

“I’m your mother now,” said the woman, and we began to walk towards the exit.

Just before reaching the outside I heard the door back down the hallway swing open. My mother ran out into the corridor with a towel wrapped around her head. She was screaming for me to come back. Tears were rolling down her face as her broken voice reverberated off the walls towards me.

“Remember,” said the woman, “we had a deal.”

Turning we walked outside and into the blinding light of a summer afternoon. The screams of my mother faded and disappeared. There is nothing more I remember from this point. Years later as an adult I would ask my mother if she remembered anything like that and she could not.

Was it a dream? It didn’t feel like one.

The smell is not a dream, as I still smell it today. But the smell is not a part of the Castle Grayskull memory. It comes from somewhere and something else. There are flashes of 1970s experimental audio and video equipment. You know, those odd green colored ones on squeaky wheeled metal carts.

As a grew older I eventually started working in the growing mining industry. The large mining equipment fascinated me and I had the opportunity to build a career in the sales and business end of the industry. There were times when I would drive south of town on the one highway to get as far away as I could before stopping and turning around to go back to work or go home. Though I loved mining and the equipment, I hated the town and the things I couldn’t remember.

Eventually, I started a family, had three sons, and when the first opportunity came to leave town, and the industry, to move south to a big city, I took it. Little did I know that I left for all the wrong reasons and life was about to punish me for doing what I did.

After years of hardship and the breakup of my family, I was forced back north and back into the town I had left behind 5 years before. There was something I missed. Something I didn’t learn before. Something which eluded my careful observations.

But life has not been cruel to me overall. It has kept my sons in my life and has given me two new families. Life has allowed me to build anew that which I lost, and I have been allowed to build this in a large city south of the town where I grew up. Work still takes me there often, but I feel there is something which will reveal itself soon. This thing will free me from it all finally. But for the right reasons this time.

Starting and building Philosophy of Metrics is a part of this journey of self-discovery for me, but I’m not fully sure why yet. POM has allowed me to evolve both inside and outside as it all progresses towards something much more important.

Perhaps we have all gathered here for something which remains secret. For the time being at least. There are invisible connections which we do not understand. These invisible connections tether us through our sharing, love, fear, doubt, excitement, and yearning for truth.

I’m not exactly sure why I’m sharing this. But I feel I have too. It is something I have wanted to do for a long time. Why the time is right now I have no idea. Maybe the end of this particular season of my life is coming and a new turn is about to happen. Maybe I’m reaching through the madness of lost things to grab hold of that invisible tether and hope that my POM family can understand something which I do not.

Sometimes I’m afraid, and sometimes I cry. Sometimes I miss holding my mother’s hand. – JC

This article is copyrighted by POM Media©2017. As Premium content permission is not given to be copied and re-posted.

JC Collins can be contacted at jcollins@philosophyofmetrics.com

19 Comments on “The Invisible Empire”

  1. Your attachment to the He-man figures made me smile. I bought my son those also.

    The only thing I understand is that I love and respect you so much, and am so grateful I found your site a couple of months after you began it.

    Hugs.

  2. I do believe we have gathered here for something which remains secret, as well. Perhaps it will be revealed at some point to us in the future both individually and collectively. I do know there is something special here, supernatural, if you will. Many mystical experiences happen for me after reading your posts, and the feeling of ecstatic experience is something I enjoy chasing on an almost daily basis. Thank you JC for all that you do.

  3. Thank you for sharing such personal thoughts JC. Shows how comfortable and how much you love this creation of POM and us. You put your heart into it and it shows. Maybe that’s one of many reasons why you wrote this one. Maybe there is a listener or reader out there that this essay touches in such a way that it will forever touch their heart and change who they are. Who knows?

    Perhaps the choice of following your wants was but another fragment of your infinite possibilities. Maybe you got a glimpse of what could have been had you taken that path. The smell could be from even another fragment that could have been possible. Maybe as you become one all these fragments merge in the process of becoming whole and at times become a bit confusing to understand. Perhaps even a bit frightening not knowing where they are coming from or which is actually true. Maybe all of them are true and in becoming whole. All our infinite fragmented possibilities become focused into one whole possibility or our complete truth. This could be what the story Humpty Dumpty is trying to explain. All the kings men couldn’t put Humpty back together again, I suppose only he could do that.

    Or the Castle Grayskull moment was a glimpse of what could have been. Maybe seeing your mum run out for you showed how she loved you and…well then you had a choice.

    But this essay could also be reflective of the subliminal messaging we have been discussing. I say this because of your reference to the 1970’s audio equipment and the lure of wanting that Castle Grayskull. Add that to our talks about the 80’s music being a decade of decadence…”

    Decade of Decadence: A Timeline of the Eighties Sunset Strip”… https://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/decade-of-decadence-a-timeline-of-the-eighties-sunset-strip-20151023

  4. JC,

    I’m grateful with POM for the learning I got since I arrived here: I regularly read and (sometimes) comment since year 2015. Or was it 2014?

    You say:

    “Starting and building Philosophy of Metrics is a part of this journey of self-discovery for me, but I’m not fully sure why yet. POM has allowed me to evolve both inside and outside as it all progresses towards something much more important”.

    Though the expression “self discovery” sounds as an internal experience, almost intimate, it has always seemed to me that it isn’t possible in places of isolation and loneliness. And I also “smell” that moving forward in the self discovery journey requires a special mirror.

    What kind of mirror and in which places to find it?

    Let’s listen to the writer…

    “I have been studying how I may compare
    This prison where I live unto the world;
    And for because the world is populous
    And here is not a creature but myself,
    I cannot do it; yet I’ll hammer it out.
    My brain I’ll prove the female to my soul,
    My soul the father; and these two beget
    A generation of still-breeding thoughts,
    And these same thoughts people this little world,
    In humours like the people of this world.
    For no thought is contented”.

    Richard the Second, Act V, Scene 5

    My humble experience tells me that a rich set of advanced dialog skills are always needed to self-discover “the prison where we live”: deep listening the others [the mirrors] and to be listened the same way by them.
    It’s not an easy task.
    Perhaps, the openness of our inner world to many different voices is of great help to develop those skills.

    I wonder: is it possible that we’re having a similar experience here, at POM community ?

    Kind regards

  5. “Perhaps we have all gathered here for something which remains secret.”

    You know one pattern I can see in regards to the above sentence is that many times comments are posted together. These comments come from the far reaches of this planet and from varying perspectives of life yet too frequently to be coincidence the comments are so similar in spirit its uncanny. Being posted together no commenter could have known what another was thinking or writing. Then there are essays that when read contain the very spirit of previous comments filtered through your (JC’s) eye and married with a new topic.

    A couple examples on the comments. One the youtube comment from Carpe Diem the other day (not being the only instance of this) and it being the same one I watched that very night. And now Rogelios comment seems to have the same spirit as the comment I posted and two people couldn’t be coming from more separated perspectives of spiritual life, one catholic and the other self knowing Protestant leaning. Yet he couldn’t have known mine nor I his because JC posted them at the same time. Two opposing poles in our spiritual views yet the same spirit resides in each comment. Thats magical and perhaps where all our commonalities lie. That common place may be what draws us all together. Jiddu Krishnamurti said “Truth is a pathless land”. I believe this to my core.

    This manifestation (POM) is unfolding in such an amazing way that its beyond full comprehension. It’s mind blowing, heart opening, tear jerking pure unconditional love, it is. A well of knowledge shared among good hearted people with the will to be better human beings every day with a courageous curiosity for the unknown.

  6. This piece resonated with me and I don’t even know why. That part with the woman taking you away from your mother made me really feel uneasy, hope it was a dream. There are so many blogs and news sites and forums out there today but I keep coming back here because it somehow is special. Thanks for doing the work you do JC.

  7. Please permit me to begin this comment offering honor to the brave military men and women who gave their lives obtaining and defending the liberties we enjoy today.

    A moment of silence, please.
    Thank You

    I’m wrestling with the mysterious content of your above post JC. I’ve done a little research on Carleton S. Coon and have discovered a fascinating mystery man, a man who is described by one person as a template for our modern day “Indiana Jones,” with a bit of a darker side.

    Spies are the main topic of the MS and Alt media today and I suspect will dominate the three day news cycle. Curious how your opening paragraph/quote seems to deal with a spy, who may have been parachuted in to accomplish his assignment. If true, cool, exciting.

    On the darker side his assignment may of included grooming assassins, using early MK/ULTRA techniques. At least that seem to be the myth, I did not know the man.

    JC could your opening paragraph include a reference to Memorial Day and poke at strange unconfirmable memories as well?

    The word “triggers,” or “triggered” is currently popular when one troll (another new use of an old word) gets the goat of another. (I like ‘gets your goat’, it puts a well earned date on me) I intended to use the word ‘triggered’ a little different, as your memory of a day with your mother, “Triggered,” a hard trigger I must add, of a memory of my own, a one day with my mother. I hesitate to share it, but it is short, so in the spirit of being open, here we go.

    My mother was the most beautiful woman in the world. My memory of the day I first realized how beautiful my mother was begins much like yours. I was young seven or eight years old, we were in my school, in my class with all the other students and their mothers. I looked around at all the other kids and their mothers and then back at mine own, and BAM!! like a thunderbolt it hit me. I knew it to my core, that my mother was the most beautiful woman in the world. That’s it, that’s the memory.

    I’ve attempted to analyze the memory as one might a dream many times, since and have settled on the one I hold today.

    My mother’s mother, dear old grandma sent my mother to attend ballet lessons as a child. My mother was a big boned pole whose chances of being a ballet dancer ran between slim and none. Mom told me she hated it, she cried, threw fits, true tantrums, but alas, to no avail, she went.

    Mom often related this story to me and my brothers and sisters as she berated us to stand up straight, don’t slouch, maintain your posture when you sit. If not I will beat your butt, or send you to ballet school. It was a empty threat, the ballet school part anyway, we couldn’t afford it. Mom had perfect posture and moved with a grace a kid could not out run.

    My mother was a homemaker whose 1950 style was what was called a house dress. nothing near as nice as the Beavers mom wore, something much more plain. Her normal day didn’t begin with the application of makeup, not hardly. But when she did gussy up for things like a school meeting she knew how to put on the ritz.

    So with her hair carefully coiffed, and makeup applied with sophistication, a dress made to fit for her by her mother, old grandma, who was a highly professional seamstress, add her majestic posture and grace, sure, hands down. My Mother Was The Most Beautiful Woman In The World.

    I cherish that memory.
    I alway will.
    PTM

  8. Thanks for sharing JC. Unfortunately, we fail to recognize all of the good memories. Bad memories always seem to be the most memorable. The most vivid. The most haunting. But, for every action, there is an equal and offsetting reaction. You have been and are blessed in so many ways. May your memories and thoughts be focused on those.
    Best,
    RJZ

  9. Dear JC, Thank you for yet another mind-altering written material!

    This was one of those articles that are absolutely multi-layered and, if I may call it “Fully Loaded”. I don’t know even where to begin! The mention of C. S. Coon the Deepstate Anthropologist intrigued me as our dear friend Pieter also commented. I found out that Mr Coon did some excavation in North Western Iran and found some discoveries in a cave with some very very old remnants. He was also a proponent of the races theory. All in all, a very well informed, well-travelled man with a wealth of knowledge regarding our collective ancient origins. I felt that his mention of a:

    “…Some other power, some third class of individuals…”

    may have possibly through his knowledge of the Avesta as well as his direct contact with Ancient Iranian military division known as “the Immortals”. Which was an adaptation of the Mazdian religion of ancient Iran where there are souls that constantly remain as a unified group of Yazatas (Angels) who will protect humanity from his most vicious enemy, the good old “Falsehood”. This is my guess Coons had studied the ancient world and particularly the first world Indo-European Empire (Achaemenids), he must have understood the need for the protection of valuable thoughts as well as empires!

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Immortals_(Achaemenid_Empire)

    This concept, whilst I was pondering over and doing a little research reminded me that I had a couple of similar memories of my childhood which somehow were always denied by my mother! One was around mid 70’s and I was in high school and we met a couple who were my parent’s age and we were standing outside of their home in a part of Tehran. I recall that they talked about a “UFO” as a very bright object standing for a few moments above their street! In this memory, my parents (both deceased) and the couple were present and to this day, this memory is fresh in my mind.

    In the 90’s I met my parent’s friend, this time in Toronto as they left chaotic Iran and settled in Canada. I asked them whether they remember what was discussed and they both denied ever having said such a thing or even any knowledge of any such conversation to have taken place! Also, that I never was interested in UFO’s or any extraterrestrial subject at that age and to this day, I am open but believe they exist. However, I believe that most of these are MIC technologies. I may be wrong but I remain open to any evidence or suggestions.

    The memory that you mentioned regarding the Grayskull castle and the stern lady seems to have lots of Symbolic references and clues which reminds me of my own memory of a UFO which I will expand on and hopefully this process may help me understand what has gone on with a denied memory of my own. In my case and yours, I believe there is a dream state element which is timeless and it is absolutely a process that we both have gone through and it remains a very subjective experience.

    In your denied memory episode, the existence of a “GreySkull” and a “Castle” tells me of a negative entity represented by the GreySkull and a place where one can remain locked up in i.e. the Castle. The nice lady with the high heels clicking may be a reference to the Greek God “Pan” who has the feet of goat that also clicks on a hard surface. Pan’s role is to deceive young shepherds with his flute and possibly toys! Your role may have always been to be Shepherd of people and one who can remove the veil of deception from their eyes! This is a hard job and somehow, you were saved from that deceptive being that came to you in the form of a woman!

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pan_(god)

    The woman in your memory was your “False Mother: who would have planned that you become a false teacher. The fact that your mother came running towards you, means that your noble mother was your True Teacher and your True Guardian. Your noble mother actually saved you from the deceptive Pan, for which your POM family (including myself!) are eternally grateful. May her sweet soul rest at peace knowing she had saved a noble teacher as you dear JC. I think she knows that you are helping many many people by telling the TRUTH and this is your real work I believe. All I can say is that You are making a change in this world by making the “castle” where noble souls seek refuge and will learn about their own roles at this time, and I am one of those souls.

    I apologise for writing what came to me in an unfiltered manner. I also believe that the memories you and I had were a dream-state one and an unconscious mind experience (we may have attained it in wake state!) which is very real for you and for me but it remains so as a significant experience which relates to here and now.

    I am still thinking about the significance of my UFO memory of the mid 70’s but whatever the reason or meaning, I may never know but it will remain in me for the rest of days on this earth.

    Wish you a wonderful Monday and to all POM family.

  10. “Some other power, some third class of individuals aside from the leaders and the scholars must exist, and this third class must have the task of thwarting mistakes, and nipping the causes of potential disturbances in the bud. There must be a body of men whose task it is to throw out the rotten apples as soon as the first spots of decay appear. A body of this nature must exist undercover. It must either be a power unto itself or be given the broadest discretionary powers by the highest authorities.”

    A Grand Man or a third class comprised of a group of Grand Men/Women? You emphasized ‘itself’ in saying it’s “a power unto itself or be given the broadest discretionary powers by the highest authorities.” The highest authority I know is Spirit or Consciousness. A Grand Man is guided by all the qualities that Spirit or Consciousness offers is it not? Perhaps a third class could be the Child in the Father (Spirit/Consciousness), Mother (Matter) and Child (the product of the two) construct? Maybe the Child is the Grand Man?

    1. “PROP. XLVII. The human mind has an adequate knowledge of the eternal and infinite essence of God.”

      “When I was a child my father taught me how to square walls and build things. Not mastering the square part I built things anyway.”

      “Like the painting Saturn Devouring His Children by Francisco Goya, I had spent years destroying the potential of the man I could become. But no more. Now I was on the path from which there is no diversion or forgiveness for fault. The micro man was discovering the macro man within, the brain embryo which is attempting to become.”

      Heck I could quote the whole essay but instead I’ll give the link 🙂

      https://philosophyofmetrics.com/the-grand-man-chapter-one/

  11. Dane
    After 4/5 days of head scratching I find myself no closer to understanding what this post and the comments that followed are about. That includes my own comments. So, I just don’t get it, but that is ok, more than ok.

    I’m hoping that the passage of time and letting it percolate in my stew pot of memory and sub-conscience will someday produce a understanding that the simmering effect has on a good stew.

    I just want to mention another ‘trigger’ I experienced while re-reading the article and comments. Your mention of Francisco Goya snapped me back about ten years ago when I saw the movie “Goya’s Ghost.” The movie had great effect on me beyond my ability to put into words.

    Dane, did you ever see that movie?

    PTM

    1. No Peter I have not seen that movie. Since it’s been raining down here for about….a month now maybe I can see it this weekend. Thats a good probability unless we get some some sunshine…then I’ll be outside pal 🙂

      Maybe the post and comments are only a cause for exercising the brain. Like a muscle it needs exercise also and its exercise is good natured pure thought 😉

      Do you prefer Pieter or Peter? I know we discussed it a long time ago but I seem to be the only one still using Peter so I just wanted to check. What say ye?…lol 😉

  12. Dane, JC, I have no preference as for which form of Pete you use, just don’t call me late for dinner. LOL

    JC, thanks for clearing that up for me. LOL
    PTM

  13. Check this out!

    Castle Grayskull…

    Grayscale Investments,…

    “Digital Currency Group was launched in 2015 by Barry Silbert, who previously founded SecondMarket, Inc.. He began investing in bitcoin companies in 2013, first as an angel investor, and provided funding for many of the earliest companies including Coinbase, BitPay, and Ripple.

    Digital Currency Group was formed when two businesses built under the SecondMarket parent company – Genesis Global Trading, a bitcoin OTC trading firm, and Grayscale Investments, a digital currency asset management firm that manages the publicly traded Bitcoin Investment Trust (Symbol: GBTC) – were combined with seed investments founder Barry Silbert had made in the bitcoin and blockchain space.

    In 2016 DCG partnered with Amazon Web Services to create a laboratory environment allowing companies to experiment with blockchain technologies.[2]”

    “Established in 2013, Grayscale is a digital currency investing firm. It manages the Bitcoin Investment Trust (BIT), provides titled, auditable bitcoin exposure through a traditional investment vehicle. BIT shares are the first publicly quoted securities solely invested in, and deriving value from, the price of bitcoin. The Trust trades under symbol: GBTC on the OTCQX market, and is only available to accredited investors.[3][4]”

    https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Digital_Currency_Group

    This short video shows many connections to Ripple.

    https://youtu.be/Yeai0sIGumk

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