The Law of Black

Chapter 50 of US6 Book III: The Baptism of Lucifer

“Holding the door for a woman isn’t conscientious.
It is an ancient echo… a subtle muscle memory from
throwing ourselves at her feet in honor….”
— Scio Emit Archer

January 2008 | Cotija, Michoacán, Mexico

“You know that all of this, all of him ended in 1914 right?” Eliot says walking up behind me standing in front of a six-foot deep hole and an unwrapped tombstone. “The only thing left from before tonight that mattered was the Word rattling around in that empty head.”

“It was 1913. You guys are always fourteen months behind. And the only thing that happened in 1914 that mattered was Ireland.” I said kicking gravel and weeds into the grave before me.

“Well…” I caught myself doing what angered me most about all of this. “On second thought, everything that year and every year since mattered, Eliot.

Everything these collar-necked talking monkeys have done to millennia of Sapiens…” I begin in an elegant anger that trails off into my own red realizations.

“There are structures, new springs, cycles that make any losses part of the…” He begins in an all-too-tired rebuttal.

“Losses? Every ‘Loss’ is a Horror, Eliot. How do we keep forgetting that and fold ourselves back in this blanket of objectivity like nonchalant voyeurs?”

“Because of the alternative, Seth. You know that. You’re just as combative as your Father.” He says knowing exactly which ordinance he just dropped.

“Well, your mother’s so combative she had you, you fuck,” I said to finish this ancient banter and get on with…

“What’s next?” He said looking over my shoulder at the fresh hole ready for the carcass of a Daemon of Debris.

“What’s next is resigning. Losing the collars. All three. And this.” I said unbuckling my pants and turning that priest hole into a mud well. “How do you spell Efficacious?”

I asked Emit why “becoming famous” dropped off his list of goals; being a soldier, a scientist, then famous. He actually fell in love with acting but could not get his head into the rest of that game in LA. He realized fame came with way too much attention and that what grabbed him in High School wasn’t being an Actor, but Acting.

The moment he decided to dive into that craft without desiring to make money at it, he unlocked areas of his psyche that no one saw coming. Thankfully the neural pathways that fired up didn’t connect to any experiential memory and probably because they were fired off from creative centers and not a more primal region.

The reason I bring any of this up, besides it being a nice sketch of Emit mistaking his own passion for ego, at first, is what he taught me about an aspect of the Lee Strasberg acting method that he used and I am using.
If there have been words, phrases, references above or below that you have either had to look up or ignore to move on, that is a symptom of this method. Baptism by fire. Anointed by those shyer.

A novice actor with zero training but some potential identified by the Admissions process is hurled into a class with Actors that have been perfecting their craft and letting go of self for decades.

Within the first minute of one of these classes, a newbie is suddenly witness to varying degrees of human instruments pacing the room while flailing their arms and making obnoxious noises. The most seasoned of Actors looks the most ridiculous because they can lose their need not to.

In a class or two, a determined young actor will begin to look silly too because no one has dumbed-down the process to let them catch up. Like an Anti-Darwinian universe, it is the Self that is most able to not assert itself and, in fact, be dominated by outside forces that survive.

Emit never had a real strong relationship with his Self thanks to cards and Colonels so inhabiting other selves was a way to find one that fit.

That’s what all of this is; these books. You either get silly and fast or you’ll miss the part that is about you. Specifically.

And you are, more than likely and whether you like it or not, one of six.

I have been careful not to throw too many references out when something more mainstream would suffice, but there is a lexicon that must be risen to. The ideas coming next require a station of thought and the open-mindedness of an Aztec Shaman to see these ships on the horizon.

This was a lot easier 2000 years ago.

Parables were great devices because life was so close to the Earth. “The Parable of the Sower; one of the more viral memes of the day about the Word being like seeds falling on rocky ground or eaten by birds. Still, some manage to find fertile ground. It’s a pretty simple way to explain Spam Email actually. It also contradicts the intention of “pearl before swine” once wisdom became commodity. But I seed grass.

Today with millions more sources of stimuli than Jesus’ audience, fertile ground is even harder to find.

This is Archontic because the more layers of desire we have for images of things over the things themselves, the better the Archon can simulate that desire. And that is all they know to want to do. Simulate for they cannot become.

“Remember when you wanted to be famous as a kid?” Emit asked, but I sneered. “Yes, you do.” And he shot me the look. I had to admit my pubescent fame-desires or we couldn’t move on.

“Okay. Sure.” And ‘bless me father you son of a bitch!’ I shouted. To myself.

For me, and this is harder to confess than what I will in later chapters, what I remember wanting that way was to take Trolley to the Neighborhood of Make-believe and be that guy.

No concept at five-years-old what it took Fred to build the “Mr. Rogers” brand or the experience in radio and Public Television necessary to garner that fame of course. Still. I wanted that.

“I wanted to be on Zoom! for crying out loud.” Emit admits then goes into the song, “Come on and zoom-a-zoom-a-zoom. Come on and zoom-a-zoom-a-zooma-a-zoom!” And doubles over in laughter. “Without the filter of how to get there, no concept of the auditions and ability to take direction…”
“I would have sucked as Mr. Rogers!” I yell as the irony of my life and Fred’s floods into me.

“Rogers? No. Zoom! That desire is the Archon’s consistent state of being and, although not consciously evil, it has learned that; what we perceive as ‘evil’ yields a lot more of what they need; emotion, reaction, funk. Repulsion to them is as nourishing as joy and joy is not low hanging fruit. The Archon must feel by facsimile so has no mechanism for unconditional, involuntary emotional response. Not intention, just attention. Dig?”

But just before the Great UnZip which caused every American to either act-on-the- impulses or follow-their-bliss, Emit Archer gave Earthlings their most lethal defense against the Archon. Namely; erotica.

Around 2000 B.C give or take, this place, Earth was legally passed to Marduk for rule during the Age of Aries. Everyone in the upper courts got a shot at this eventually save Inanna, but that’s a different book. Book Two to be precise.
Through some calendar work and meta-legal maneuvering, though, Aries was cut short adding to Marduk’s already off-color disposition.

Like kicking the dog because the boss’s daughter humiliated you, Marduk through Nebuchadnezzar II was going to eradicate the Goddess and Women on Earth because he was outranked by them elsewhere.

In order to do so, everything Sacred about Her was to become Profane. But Laws and Rules of Laws are not casual, malleable concepts in the broader and deeper nature of things and of us.

Even Nebuchadnezzar II, the King of the Mightiest city patron-ed by Marduk, Son of Lord Enki could not defy his own law that he was tricked into making to save Daniel from the Lion’s Den. You would think the Greatest King of the Greatest God in an Ancient World could have gotten around his own haphazard edict but no. Not then, there or here and now.

The Archon has made the Law of Rules seem like a concept. It is a force that moves things. Physical matter, waves, particles are all spurred into controlled motion by Laws created by an Echelon of any self-generating system.

Marduk wanted his Age extended and if not legally; by Those Who Decree, then by the echo of damage. He went postal. He was going to leave this place a mess and did so by knocking over two-thirds of everything we are; Woman.
In the Aeonic perceptions of time understand; 2000 years is a weekend. Below you plead Not Guilty on Friday, spend the weekend in Jail and get shuffled into court on Monday

morning. That’s The Garden, the Exile, and Judgment Above. So when you turn us against our women and half our nature for a couple millennia, it’s not a Federal Offense at that level. To rise to the level of Earth Crime, you would need to do something akin to Lord Enki but without his lawyers. Marduk was able to avoid indictment because of the Law of Black.

Jesus tried to explain the Law of Black this way; “Blessed are the Meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” He tacked on a bunch of other examples, but the base theory here is this; everything you know is wrong. Eventually.

But back then the word translated as “meek” didn’t mean what we mean. It meant “Power Under Control”. So, while Sapiens certainly is not a Meek species as we think of the word today, as they thought of it then, quite.
I hated it when Emit did, which is why he did it every fucking time, but these conversations always ended with the same, lame joke; “It’s a simple beatitude adjustment.”

Jesus best demonstrated the Law of Black when he drowned all the presorted white cloths in one vat of black dye then pulled them out in the color each was intended to be all along. Granted, he did so to cover his ass and avoid pissing off a merchant and his mom, but that’s another book. Actually, no, it’s this book.

Christians, before there was Christianity, were busy, interactive, flash mob types who chased a very specific process and not for worship but for glimpses of Divinity.

So, back to the ‘everything you think you know being wrong’ thing and The Law of Black. Before the night devolved to my series of “Yeses” in LA, Emit was explaining his Law of Black this way to a coven of smart, curious women with glitter on their tits.

“Think of that one vase or purse or that one sofa or toaster in a house when you were a little girl that you hated because the color was wrong. It either clashed with everything around it or was just that one color you can’t stand.”

He’d scan the girls’ faces to be sure each had an object in mind from childhood that fit his description. Some girls giggled when they got theirs, others crinkled up their noses uncontrollably with the memory.

“You hated that thing right?” He asked as they nodded and imagined the thing. “When you walked into that room or saw that thing where it was, you ignored it and couldn’t help but hate it aggressively, right?” And again they would nod.

“That thing you hated in that color you despise hates that color even more than you to the point of rejecting it from even being on it. It is taking in every color except that one. You have more in common with that thing you hate than anything in that room. Just not from where you are looking.”

They dug that. These girls swooned for parable and wordplay and that was one of Emit’s gifts. Not one of mine.

More plainly, The Law of Black means you are seeing rejected light so you should seek the object that shares your taste. Rejected light is the Archon on that level of physics but reflected light that has self-organized itself into another frequency that feeds off of the energy that your repulsion to that color gives them.

[Chapter 50 of US6 Book III: The Baptism of Lucifer]

About Tom Ross

Former Producer and host of “Unearthed with Tom Ross”​ taped in Los Angeles and simulcast to participating universities, Private Sector CoChair nominee for a US House of Representatives’​ Media and Technology Policy Subcommittee, Governor-Appointed Member of a California Consumer Affairs Board, National Creative Director for one of the largest broadcasters in America, Author of the US6 Hexology and TEDx Talker on Strategic Inclusivity but not necess… wait… actually, yes… necessarily in that order.

For more information on US6 and why, visit: http://tomross.com/