All Our Yesterdays

by Mike Kennedy

Overview

In New America, the History Channel of the 25th Century edits 20 episodes of The Ancient Office, which still produces documents in ways Gutenberg understood. In Old America, the office of 1975 in Indianapolis has more in common with Da Vinci’s drawing of the Cannon Factory, than with any workstation in 2452.

Next year, Apple sells its first personal computer, and 30 years later, the assault on consciousness begins with the great connectivity. The Network's local producer learns what's coming; realizing that a hive of bees may have total connectivity, but what have they given up? Progress promises to pick up speed at the turn of the 21st century, accelerating toward the eventual downfall of one particular animal, a mammal: genus Homo, species Sapiens.

Within the program, All Our Yesterdays, some shows are epic: The treason trials and public executions of Old America; the paralyzing anxiety of our near miss at extinction, when our fate hung on that single capricious chromosome; and the building of the Atmospheric Decarbonizing Complex on the Columbia River. But New America has recovered (temporarily) in these last 50 years, and so, the series The Ancient Office documents life at a more gracious, walkabout scale.

Time is a relic of our Neolithic campfires, and yet our moments remain forever real. The end of days begins so innocently in 1975. The exponent works simultaneously across 500 years, playing moments like Bach at his clavier. Then comes the labyrinth's crucial turn: 2006; the I-phone; Twitter; the assault on consciousness by this nemesis who was awakened from the null zone by the growing racket of incessant human connectivity. Man’s destiny is not to have one, and even to lose his past.

This writer sees the present struggle against the New World Order as mankind’s unconscious course correction versus the approach of the technological singularity. Overtaking us, it would bring the irreversible loss of our nature as Longhunters. All Our Yesterdays is an allegory of mankind’s defeat in that struggle.

The characters in the story explore the four levels of consciousness via the retro-causation from the History Channel of the 25th Century. The back matter at the end of the book provides an expanded definition of each. This novel was the channeled experience of the military's "Project Looking Glass." Channeling is the means to discover the thing you know that you do not know you know. It is a rendezvous with the thing that has no name. The unconscious does not sleep.

Product Details

BN ID:	2940164790295
Publisher:	Mike Kennedy
Publication date:	01/14/2021
Sold by:	Smashwords
Format:	eBook
File size:	667 KB

About the Author

A note to my readers. Like many of you, in former times I thought of myself as not merely awake, but vibrantly awake. I was wrong. Beginning in 2019, and connecting the dots as consciousness is wont to do, I began my Red-Pill experience. Recently, and to my amazement, I see that the writing of three of my novels was channeled experience. "Mali" turns out to be a story of the Deep State. It was always, from the start, a story of the illusion of free will. "Taggart" turns out to be a story of Trans-Humanism. And "All Our Yesterdays" turns out to have been an unconscious metaphor of the inner sanctum of the Cabal and its malign design upon mankind. I have long known that my stories find me (and not the other way around). Two attempts at designing a story have both resulted in ten-thousand-word dead ends. I quote from Aeschylus (his work "Agamemnon"): "Pain, which cannot forget, even in our sleep, falls drop by drop upon the heart, until, in our despair, and against our will, comes wisdom by the awful grace of God." And we remember that "grace" is an unmerited consolation. Finally, I see that my "message to the publishing world" (final paragraph below) recognized the sad fact that agents & editors have betrayed their intrinsic debt to western civilization and consciously work in thrall to the dark side. One should keep in mind that the root word for "inspiration" is "spirit" and so must ever remain experience beyond the five senses. I have always written about those things that you know, but do not know you know.

On a lighter note: It is not too late to fall in love with language. You've just needed characters you wish you knew.

Indianapolis author Mike Kennedy described by Trident Media Group, saying: "Kennedy has a way with words. Readers attracted to Hemingway and Mailer will love Season of Many Thirsts [A novel brought to E-Books under the original title: REPORT FROM MALI]." Publisher Alfred A. Knopf says of the manuscript: "This is a potentially important and significant novel on many levels, including formally." Little, Brown says of the novel: "Our admiration for its ambition and the energy and high-octane force it applies toward these engrossing geopolitical events. Chance and his team are memorable characters." Random House says: "Kennedy captures the strange, and intriguing world of Mali." Playwright Arthur Miller said of Kennedy: "Marilyn and I used to think there was something funny about Mike, and then we realized that he was simply hilarious."

Kennedy's message to the publishing world, "I have read Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness from time to time across fifty years. During this, my most recent reading, it occurs to me that I am Kurtz and that all of you are Marlow. Kurtz lay dying in the pilot house of the river steamer. Marlow, the company agent, has found him and returns with him. Kurtz has spent years in the jungle pulling out ivory and sending it downstream. Finally, Kurtz agrees to return down river to civilization because he realizes that he has something to say, something with a value beyond his ton of treasure. Kurtz realizes that he has achieved a synthesis from out of his brutish experience. Kurtz imagines being met by representatives at each one of the string of railway stations during his return to civilization. He tells Marlow, 'You show them you have in you something that is really profitable, and then there will be no limits to the recognition of your ability.' And then, sounding as though he steps into our own millennium, Kurtz adds, 'Of course you must take care of the motives—right motives—always.' Now I see that Kurtz is Conrad. Kurtz is not unique. He is every writer. It is only Marlow, the agent, who is unique, unique in his fidelity, not just to the job, nor only to the company, but to the civilization that sent him."

CJ