How sophisticated were the Greeks, the Greeks of Homer and Socrates and Aristotle! What kind of words they had! Like, the word we have run into recently:
This dialogue had never happened in this world, it came up in a dream. The #dream passed, but the word remained. F A R D O. That’s fardo which is pronounced like “fardough”. Have you ever heard it?
In PART ONE had been listed the elements of the Universal Projection: an object of projection, light source, its beam, and screen -stock, lock and barrel, and everything run by the Projectionist Almighty. What are the earthy counterparts to these elements? We already know who the Projectionist is. We know that screen is our reality. But what is the beam? And what is the rest?
Let's start with the beam. In a way, I've already answered this question in PART I–it is what people call Holy Spirit–a field which carries a projection of God into our realm. It directed - from the source to the object of manifestation, and hence it is a beam.
It would be an awful folly to consider God as a dweller of the same time-space domain where we are presently living. Some of us still believe in naive cliché of a gray-bearded old man lolling on a cloud. Not that He can’t do it, but just as much as on a cloud, you should expect to find Him on the bottom of the ocean or on a tip of a solar flare. The point is:
Our so-called reality is mere a projection of REALITY . This idea is not new, nor is it original–Plato in his Republic introduced the idea of perception of our reality as a shadow of a real reality falling on the wall of a dark cave.
I had a little thought which turned into a big #meditation. I would like to share it with you. It is just an idea, an #idea as old as this world, I would be a total fool if I’ll claim of being original here. It is a dreadful idea, but I'll try to get some good vibes out of it, see if it will works for you as it worked for me. Here is:
Appearance and reality are two different twins which anyone can distinguish. Is that so? Let's see:
Sun appears as one going around the earth and not vice versa. That’s appearance vs. reality of motion. You can add more similar examples if you wish.
While I was working on my latest novel, “The Leap of Faith”, I came to a notion, that appeared trite and mind-boggling at the same time. Maybe I've just never looked into it that way, I don't know, but the more I am thinking about it, the more amazing it appears. I'd like to share it with you.
Each of us, living man or woman, are the living tips of incredibly long lines of lives, going all the way down to the dawn of humanity. And if we could follow these lines back in time, we would arrive at the source, where all these lines converge. What is that source? Or who was it? Was it a single pair of progenitors, or a cluster of several different but capable of interbreeding species? The answer remains a matter of faith, religious or scientific, whichever you take.
The day of Transfiguration had just passed. It was a good day to be on some mountain, looking up for a light. I couldn’t do it, though; I've spent my day in a hole, in darkness. Nevertheless, it never hurts to dream about light:
And why do we call it transfiguration? That's the question I’ve asked myself.
As the story went, Jesus took three of his best disciples (Peter, John, James), went to Mt. Hermon and there his countenance turned dazzling white; Moses and Elijah appeared before Him and paid Him homage; and Peter said... well, everyone knows the story .
You also probably know, that the Transfiguration of Jesus, like almost everything else in the New Testament, was preceded by Old Testament events - the transfiguration of Moses. Moses’ countenance irradiated bright light, when he went down from Mount Sinai. “The skin of his face shone because he had been speaking with the Lord.”.
“If only I had known what he would turn out to be,” said Henry Tandey, a British soldier of WWI, who had a chance to kill Adolph Hitler at the Battle of Marcoing.
According to Henry's account, he took aim but had a heart not to kill a wounded German soldier. “If I only had known what he would turn out to be. When I saw all the people, women and children he had killed and wounded, I was sorry to God to let him go.” 
We live in a world of words. Some people even make a living by weaving long and sometime quite elaborate strings of letters. Some of those strings worth more than strings of pearls.
The strings of words pierce the space on radio waves, fold into books, hide in CDS and microfiches and wave to us from banners pulled by crop dusters. They shake our air with acoustic booms of contraction and rarefaction. They carry meanings; at least some of them, while others are just pollution, toxic noise. Some words will stay with you for the rest of your life, like the first word of your baby. Or like the last words of your loved one. Words give life and words take life away.
These wrecks lie undisturbed by greedy to artifacts divers. Smell of wormwood at sunset. Wailing of turtledoves in green quarters of Yalta and Simferopol. And grave silence of ancient columns protruding from sandy cliffs. It is a bit like California, if California would have several millennia of history. It is almost like California, but no overcrowding, often more a desert, than even a steppe. It is Crimea, and there is much more to it, but... Much more? What can be more? Maybe, mountains? Or submarines? Did you know that there is an innate connection between Crimea and jingoism? These words are connected in many senses, but let's start with semantics.