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World Mysteries Blog

Introduction to the Realm of The Moire Arena

July 26, 2013

Introduction to the Realm of The Moire Arena

by Ron O. Cook

3/17/12 Story: Moiré Arenaby Ron O. Cook
Although the amount of arable land which could be made available with the most careful terracing was not large enough to support a very great population, Machu Picchu offered an impregnable citadel to the chiefs and priests and their handful of followers who were obliged to flee from the rich plains near Cuzco and the broad, pleasant valley of Yucay. Only dire necessity and terror could have forced a people which had reached such a stage in engineering, architecture, and agriculture, to leave hospitable valleys and tablelands for rugged canyons. Certainly there is no part of the Andes less fitted by nature to meet the requirements of an agricultural folk, unless their chief need was a safe refuge and retreat. 
— Hiram Bingham
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Machu Picchu and Puma Punku have an ancient relationship that few may realize nor can they comprehend their mysterious worth to our history. The complexity of the data associated with their remains as an artifact of our past is perhaps beyond our ability to decipher. Some of us think that in those old days when these great Archaeological sites were first created by powerful minds, there was much more transpiring on this planet than what current history reports to us today. We believe that the evidence shows that a highly advanced race of mankind was about to face terror in the form of massive Earth catastrophe/s that would wipe the planet clean of most evidence in support of those who became Gods to lesser survivors unable to think past their abrupt circumstances. These creators, who possibly were scientists schooled beyond our present scope of the term, were geneticists and geologists of high repute and capabilities. Common men, such as we modern citizens, were their agents and they worked the universe as professionals who knew the “Primary Technology” that we today attribute to various indigenous tribal types or what have been called savages by academics of today. Herein is the introspective story of their Lives and Times.
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Geologic evidence of the Earth shows that this world was swept by a number of tsunamis some 12,900 years ago at the end of the last so-called Ice Age. (Reference the Carolina Bays Event or the Younger Dryas Event). Then some enterprising souls sought survival in self-righting Arks and others climbed the highest mountains they could find, still others hid in caves capable of trapping air and allowing food-stuff to keep. Many, who just wanted to have their little fun, were swept away along with the end of an advanced civilization. Puma Punku has the last surviving evidence (engineering beyond most of what we can accomplish with stone granite today) proving that this indeed did happen and those there at that unusual place during the last days went to the site of Machu Picchu in hopes of survival. The large peak called Huayna Picchu is full of highly sophisticated and well designed caves that hide many difficult areas to approach.
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In point of fact much of the terrain of present day Peru is inundated by finely cut tunnels still unexplored or even sought. The last vestiges of a once highly advanced humanity who could create with some massive results are today called Incan, but the Inca did not do the great works, they only co-opted the remains that they found in their wanderings in a land long ago washed away. 
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Hiram Bingham, the great Yale explorer supported by the National Geographic Society, did not seem interested in these sites but some believe there are still areas there, other than the Temple of the Moon (it looks like a parking garage for a Harrier Jet), that contains many clues to an ancient civilization almost unknown to the Inca.
Due to the terrain and the massive curve in the river below, Machu Picchu was a perfect place to ride out a tsunami with a standing wave of a mile and a half tall. Though Puma Punku is higher (13,000 feet above sea level), the run factor of level land would cause it to be destroyed by wave action in both earthquake and water wave actions. The Advanced Creators of that long ancient time, knew this and absconded to Machu Picchu’s solid granite base. It was the best bet and most scientific alternative with so little time to prepare.

Below is the story of that ancient time

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AND JOMON SAID: “12,900 years ago, when I was in my youth, my father and I witnessed the first incoming shards of a massive comet called Dragona. It appeared almost as a feathered serpent in the high sky as its first splintered pieces came slithering into our sector of the universe spewing its destruction thoroughly upon our beloved work. The massive comet twisted as it fragmented into numerous portions and those who saw it said it resembled a giant snake with a fiery head. Segments of it went into orbit to rain havoc down on the Earth for eons. The heaviest parts drilled deep within the planet causing massive earthquakes. Earlier, as we stood in awe watching it come to our world on our sensors at our small Home Base (Puma Punku). It was felt as a foreboding and deeply dreaded knowing that we must seek safety immediately. Massive fear swept over the assembled creators on assignment there for we had become accustomed to the good life. As engineers of Macro and Micro Creations or genetic science, we were well versed in the ways of existence. We knew all too well, that our time on Earth was about to be transformed by an act that would send massive tsunamis and earthquakes across the entire planet. Our works would be destroyed in an instant and a new test of our abilities was about to begin.

We had already set up a number of outposts for our research teams of geneticists in what is now Biru or Peru in various places held in solid unmovable white granite stone in guarded hopes that we could survive with some of our works. We ( my father’s team/s) would weather the onslaught of this massive comet in the seclusion of these strong mountains. You now call it Machu Picchu. Immediately we began to build a base there amid those jagged, strong peaks. Tunnels were carved with our projected beams to provide hydra-tight facilities for research and survival. In fact the mountains were perfect as an impregnable base of operations. It still is such today. We were prepared technologically (reference flying platforms that housed our systems and technomachines) and psychologically but much of the rest of the planet would be caught by surprise. We knew we would have much to do after the onslaught of the event had devastated almost all of what we had accomplished over time: therefore, we set plans into motion for the entire planet. We designated future bases of operations and units that would help survivors and continue to restructure (teach) those who had lost their memory of who and what we were due to a psychological stress or trauma to the onboard mentality. It was a long-term plan and I would play a unifying role in its accomplishment as the time-catalyst. In essence, I had to live forever as I still do. One wishes we had detected the aberration earlier but no, some had already become complacent via selfishness. Perhaps it was this slovenly attitude that was to set us back due to our awakening negative indolence. Apparently we would face starting over in this sector of the universe. Now, a highly advanced civilization was about to gear up for the greatest catastrophe.” “The story begins at my seat (home) and our oncoming end.”

In a secret chamber near the Temple of the Moon — Machu Picchu Peru: (Recording on Computerized ME not unlike an advanced I-pad or I-com).

On this day, I crawl out of my secret, crypt unusually tired and over-burdened with the passing of the many echelons of seemingly ancient time that I have spent here in these stone chambers of our past construct. Out of this so-called lunar temple of massive stone — one more time, I do step.  Unknown to those who service this ancient site, I am merely a worker here hiding in plain sight. I will now just slip past the present-day minions, who seem to collect here out of curiosity for some sad reason to understand this site; and go stealthily via (known only to me to) an interior section where a particle transferor awaits in our old lab to slip to the hidden reflection of this site, where my means of earthly travel is still hidden in its park — safe from intruders. With this craft, I will once again survey the state of existence here in this last example of the Goge Sector.

At this point in time, I have forgotten how old I truly am, but I seem to have the History of the Universe running through my mind or more succinctly through my veins and neuronal byways (It is a wonder this fleshly vehicle that I ride, still works after all the abuse it has experienced). I have seen much during this duration of being here as the entity Jomon. (I am) just living as a human being who is occupying a form in Time/Space and on mission from Timelessness — or so I have come to knowingly amplify lest I forget — as others have forgotten. What a massive inundation of data I have to review and relate; yet, I seem to still have the ability to remember most of it. My ME will record everything and feedback to me in my hibernation state. This state of sleeping through the hard times in order to bridge the mission my father put me to, is a pain no other person could or should endure. But, I must do this for the record. The records purpose I will reveal to my hidden brotherhood shortly in the last remaining hideaway other than mine here. I must hasten there now.

I know I approach the end of this experience on this side of the projected and broadcast spectrum — realm of being and becoming because I feel much older now. Age is coming to me now for I have declined each time I stepped outside its bounds to survey and research in the Real World.  Few can truly live a short duration or not much more than 100 orbits of this planet due to our bodily specifications. Our mission (that of my ancestors) has been so massive for those of us who entered here from the “multifaceted-mind” to be multiplied by the quadrillions, to experience each and every particulate of physical expression has been lost to time. Most of my brothers and sisters do not even remember our original mission to amplify the expressed realms from within the visual and sensory field/s. Some humans are now in a cycle repeating over and over again attempting to find themselves and return to their known plan that is hidden deeply in their base monadic being. Such knowledge only drips through via dreams now. Few realize the value of their dreams  in this the collective interface. Many will listen to themselves long enough to catch fire and escape their self-imposed Hell. Their distraction/s occurred long ago as did mine at the behest of the comet that was more than a comet in its construction. It was more a loaded comet of massive proportions of ice and stone. I digress when I think upon its construct and the reason for its mission.
I have been hiding and at the same time hibernating, coma-like here at this point on Earth, which has become my sequential home and from the looks of things the home of many of my fellow travelers here in the Moiré Arena. Since I periodically have dipped in and out of the Real World numerous times since 12,000 years ago, I have trouble remembering who or what transpired over time. Thank goodness my computers or scepters have updated me each time I awaken here.
It seems many of this current period’s vacationers are intrigued by the sophistication of our old point of refuge. The few times I have seen them, they look at me blankly and I know they have forgotten their own inner-self as evidenced by the blank looks reflected in their eyes. Today, they mill about this place as if they have come to see what we built here in my youth. They have added much to the site via ill placed stone. In comparison to our planned work it looks something akin to the lacking of specifications and the engineering knowledge required to erect this abode. Yet, they seem to not know me at all. Strange, there were times when no one lived here at all after the many years had passed. It certainly has been a long time since any one worked here as we did in the beginning before the end, long ago. What we created in such a short time was a spectacular work of entity engineering.
Those fellow beings who tarry here are no longer in possession of the universal mentality (we all had) but are localized entities now, built upon the memory of one who gives them a birthing — the ongoing backup. They think in a line and their communications are singular in scope while possessing the capability of dual or gestalt thought. They can no longer read the symbols expressed by the movement of the implicate order generating our very presence from the background of Timelessness — the bifurcation of Life — as they say, the beat goes on from the Sefirah (Da’at) — Tree of Existence. At least I can still remember my roots. I remember when my father first reignited my mind to the fire of the universe. He said, (Not that one is, but that whereby Is, is — thus is the Crux of being and becoming). I will never forget the day he came up to me and said, “Wherein does the point of your thought cursor exist? What is wrong with your attempt at Thinking? You no longer know who or what your are.” I was taken firmly aback.
This is what he said to me…
“When we came here into this virtual expression of our collective dream, our plans were indeed expansive and well supported by the incremental generative order of coherency. Our goal was to create an entire universe of dynamic expression/s utilizing the elements and principles of deity — our very foundation of being and becoming as broadcast from Timelessness or Always.
 
To exist in this realm of sequential eventuation via the impetus of force through light requires the alternation of wave and particle in the da’at of the Sefirah — the heart of fiery intellect. This collective of mentality is the Is. Some have moved to the forgetting of their own being and becoming. I was a prime example of forgetting who and what I was.   
 
Earth was one of our experiments in which we manifest in multifaceted be-man-ship. Mind was our interface and the mover was the generative spirit the Enigmni. Through this means of interface with the void we began the Burgeoning of the passionate expression of the Moiré Arena — the canvas of the painter. Each and every one of us was aware through the collective that the positive mission minus the negative aspects of presence were never a part of our existence then, and should not be a part to maintain the verve herein. To purge this inclination to seek singularity on this side is counterproductive. No one part shall be the whole through fiat and selfish endeavor in this multifaceted state of experiencing Time at the same Time. If upon pursuit to this cause occurs, then chaos burgeons forth toward destruction of the whole here in this Moiré Arena of florescence — Life as some call it.  
 
Initially there were seven aspects of us who explored here and began to create with each succeeding elemental of creation from our point-of-departure — each more complex than the last. With every creation we began to collect a phenomena we called, Time — a creation from the movement of the Enigmni.
 
This aspect or anterior and exterior realm of presence requires multitudinous sheaths or vehicles of related means to the mental points of drive — or cursors. These cursors are the entry points for the throughputs driven by light/mind and the “fiber” of Always.
 
Within the Timelessness of Always is the means of abject complexity beyond all mental assemblage’s ability to know completely due to its ongoing-ness.  The Enigmni is the absolute and ultimate unknowable spirit — the Holy Spirit. From it issues generation into presence. That was then and this is now.
 
Records found since my father died. Information about the world before the comet came.
“Woe comes to those who see existence as play rather than initiation. Surely my initiation will soon stand its ultimate test. This day I had hoped would never come to those of us who shepherd here in and on this world. As a representative scholar and teacher of things genetic having access to the Star Data Transfer is not one of my means of orbital sustenance. Their information is given to those of us who are chiefly in charge of distant research in other creational lands. Biru is my favorite assignment here and it is in that land that I have raised a family and became close to many of my field party who are almost as family. To break the news to them will be hard and the plans of putting survival into motion will indeed be tedious and heart-rending to the highest degree. I am at a loss.  I have been in charge of them all so long; it is something I thought I would never have to face. A runaway comet of massive proportions is heading our way and though we practitioners at Star Data Transfer tried to destroy it, the comet has fragmented due to our insufficient targeting efforts, it still comes at the Earth now in the form of 10,000 particles of massive destruction. It will arrive in a few months and no one knows just what its potential will be to this planet. The comet assemblage is not unlike a great snake that is twisting and turning as it is on course to impact this section of the Goge-realm sector. We must leave and hurry to our projects and prepare our people. The dread pulls me down to a heavy continence almost as though I pull a million Ben Bens behind me.

The Shema craft is our destiny as we shepherds make haste toward the pyramid of ascent for our journey to Biru. It is far away and will mean I have almost the time of an orbit to contemplate and make plans for our protection and hopefully a saving of our research tools and creations. It has been a great period while here in the Moiré Arena utilizing this grand sheath to accomplish the information transfers.

I have almost forgotten my true self while immersed in this assignment. But I still hold true to my test. My pilot has arrived and I shall retire to my post to meditate upon my task ahead. Away. But we shall pass over the wonders of our primary seat upon this old and distant realm called Earth. We had built a grand place in this massive valley of fruitful creations. The mediety of the Me and the Other. It is such a beautiful collection of so many Pyramids of Record.

I sit here recording my thoughts for my son who is now my finest confidant on scientific matters. I do this with the deepest regret in that I do not know exactly what to do. How do we survive if at all possible? As all here know, our primary reinforcement is to survive in this form as long as possible. How will the world survive the onslaught of this spray-shot of millions of particles racing to our throats where our last breath sends us home? We have been here on this planet for over 4 million orbits; the Omegon Practitioners who help create realms of occupation. Our work has been so well done. Now, it will probably all be lost to the storm of fire that is destined to impact our art. As the three of us fly home to the works of our interests in Biru we circle above the below — the great valley region that has been designated as this sector’s home seat or base. We call it Adanus or the last gardened sector. The Gadians (our engineers) are the primary workers in this massive site and they are still working to build designs that will most likely be shattered beyond recognition in the coming months. What a loss and they most likely have not yet been told for they seem to be working even harder to meet their next deadline of accomplishment.
 
When I first saw the creations below in this old land of the Gadians our builders, I was in awe of their accomplishments. It encouraged me to grow and to know all I might become in this seat of my creation vehicle here in Time/Space. I know I could pass this test when I saw their works because I was not unlike them. I had the wherewithal to grow in mind with this body. I set out to be the best I could possibly be. That was long ago though I have been here many times in the past of this experience. This was my time to shine. The whole valley region is filled with great accomplishments. Builded aspects that rise to the heavens and they are not as my old home of Jomona in the Other ocean region. But I do miss my great red trees that rise to the sky also. They are of our genetic constructs and are more natural than these great edifices of secondary constructs not unlike our Shemas but on a larger scale and much more creative yet geometric. I have had hopes in the past that my son would see this someday, but no.”
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According to my Shema’s recorded data-controls, I have been here for over 13,000 orbits of this planet — Earth. What would I do without that silly little means of starlight travel? It has served me well, as Father had always said, “Take care of something and it will last you a lifetime.” It still looks like it did the day he gave it to me — old flying friend. Strange to give a name and a personal feeling to something that is not alive yet performs as its designer had created. I think it is the only one left in Time/Space. I have taken good care of it, as I have maintained all of my generational possessions for what seem only a few years. But, had we not gone to these extremes of secreting away all our evidence of existence, we would have never been able to pass this great message on to our own for they are terrible in their memories. I can sympathize with their train of thought. This process is not easy with all the distractions present.

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I have lived beyond any person I have known and have kept it a secret since my early years of existence. Only my father and the inner core of the League of Humanity knew of this experiment to bridge history with a human voice. Then — back when I was born, I was privileged by the God to have been born during the last years of Earth’s Golden Epoch now some 12,900 years ago.
My father was fortunate enough to be one of the most advanced of all souls who lived on this planet, a scientist and member of the prestigious League of Humanity. Some at the time said his name was “thought” exemplified in physical form. His works have been my guiding light since those ancient of days and I have tired to escort his words down to this very period conveying to humanity his great and grand works. His linkage to the source of our very being here in Time/Space was unbroken in soulular communication. If ever a man knew everything in this forum of existence, he was that man. His life was a normal 137 orbits of the Goge Portal what is now called the Sun of this solar system. But he like I “Longslept” for thousands of years. I took his name later in my life to carry on his work, but we will come to that later in this long and detailed report that I am almost sure is the only link to who and what we (humanity) all are here in Time/Space.
My home was Ubnake a learning center near what is now called Peru (specifically the mountainous area) I am transcribing this material now from a hidden vault deep under that old mountainous abode…my former youthful home. In those now ancient times the land mass was indeed much larger and my home was much higher. Things were very different back when I first become manifest here in this realm of the Moiré Arena, the focused ground-point of the eye of God within this dimension. My early world was a home filled with excitement and much learning from the instant I arrived here — my father made sure of that. All of his associates kept me busy with constant psychic adulation. He was already somewhat old when he fathered me to my mother who was one of his assistants in the most important aspects of his research into how we should attain coherency in this realm. I was born the old way. I was my father’s own experiment in prolonging existence as a being in one form. It is this abode where I live that contains the secret hibernation and cryogenic device to my longevity. But I shall dwell upon the how of that later in this transmission to surviving humanity.
My becoming is so involved with the exactness of my father’s findings on human existence in this manifestation of being here in physical form that I have had to maintain incremental and precise controls in how I leverage each and every second of my movement from one point of being to another in this world. The timing of my existence must be precise and I always must return to here, my home via the Sema. It has taken its toll on me mentally and physically yet he trained me well in this strange endeavor that few will ever need experience. I do not suggest its regimen to anyone. It has been long and at each awakening, I find myself saying that I will put this entire journey away and just live life to the end but at the end of each stint, I acquiesce to my father’s instructions though he is long gone from here. He always made the point that no one would have the record of the past unless I followed through. I have done that at great sacrifice and I have reminded myself of the fact that no one has ever done this for future generations. It is of the utmost import.
My span of being here has been 13,000 years as I communicate to my beloved Friends of the Realm of the Moiré Arena. Truly I have only lived 134 years but I had an advantage. I have been the founder of this rare society down through the ages, always to outlive all my beloved friends — brothers and sisters have they always been. Though our group has been extremely small, we have always had the edge in all earthly conflicts by being able to interface with the “then” powers that be, to offer our insight and knowledge which has always been superior due to the hard work of my father, his old friends and those who engineered and worked on the many projects as was standard for his great and grand generation and the one that spawned them.
The Golden age has at least tricked down to the present even though humanity has suffered numerous catastrophes over the last 12,900 years. The Initial calamity was indeed the blow that almost destroyed all of us on this planet and in this sector of Goge. I will reiterate how we saw it coming, dealt with it and survived its havoc within this, my final thesis. This report will be the last to those who are currently present in area 51 of the United States. There my old friends carry on as best they can. Some carry on only in a vicarious modality of computer memory of their proud and accumulated Neuron-linked knowledge and wisdom.
As I have lived through it all, with those beloved of you. Each and every epoch of striving here on Earth that I lived through gave us important data.  Though most of you did not survive the individualized periods of history, your work and words still travel as the basis of our total knowing. The libraries we have established and the one here in this vault of vaults attest to the dedication you all have strived for over the many thousands of years, will someday come to the real world…now it is ready. It will be your testament. Alas, that world or this one now, is still not ready for our knowledge and enlightenment — yet it is time. I will not be able to carry on much more and it will need to be left up to you to form the ultimate guild to see the day of reckoning so all will finally know their true being. It has indeed been a secret closely held by the few of us here and in the purview of those at area 51.
My initial start was in a wonderful world where all human interface and adjustment was finally worked out with all the parameters known and in full utilization even to the point of achieving everlasting life in one from through the entire test of existence rather than the reincarnation of another body to continue the quest. My father’s Great Grandfathers had already learned the secrets of existence here in this realm…it was almost old even to them. They learned from the Always-agents.  Their lives were long in comparison to yours. But they had a civilization not unlike the present realm known to you as the 21st Century. Ah, yes the cities, autos, aircraft and all the trappings you enjoy today were present some 50,000 years ago in parts of this planet and other planets. Indeed much as transpired on this silly old Earth. At least for the last four million years and more — I have access to the records for some 7 billion earth years though incomplete.
The ancestors of 50,000 years ago had the knowledge of their existence from the beginning of their dispensation some 4 million years ago. It was never lost when they came through the portals of Goge as Light beings. Their realms were indeed trials of learning and REASON. Now they lie at the threshold waiting for the door to open so they may return to their true source, as we will also. Those were our “ancient of days.” How and why of our being will be described later in my final report.
This place called Earth was once the source of all sustenance to high living form. We who occupy this form in a physical state came to this sector through the portal of the Goge System many morrows ago as Light Beings. We settled on many planets and began event sequences to experience this virtual realm of cause and effect. A Light Being is a facet or part of the whole of the All. We truly reside in Timelessness, a state where all that is, is localized. We create vehicles via the mentality of creative movement, which is called the Enigmni or the Absolute and Ultimate unknowable. What is unknown about the Enigmni is only on this side of the All. Feedback Looping is essential to discovering the means to how such power can be expressed.

I leave this message to you as I step out to move about this planet one more time.

– – – – – – –

Copyright 2013 by Ron O. Cook
Presented with permission of the Author

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Filed Under: Life, Mystic Places, Philosophy, Planet, Ron O. Cook Tagged With: ancient advanced technology, Ancient history, prehistory, Puma Punku, Realm of the Moire Arena, Ron O. Cook

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