eighth dimension

The unmade script for the sequel to “Buckaroo Banzai Across the Eighth Dimension,” called “Buckaroo Banzai Against the World Crime League,” is just a google search away. It’s online in a bunch of places, check it out.

To say the tone is different from the first film is an understatement. If Against the World Crime League came out when it was supposed to, it would have been incredibly ahead of its time. The only thing I can compare it to is Sam Raimi’s films like Army of Darkness, which has a tone of being horrific, but things are so surreal it’s almost darkly funny. An example would be that Hanoi Xan tries to kill Penny by hanging her by her own hair. Gruesome, but so weird you have to laugh a little. 

One character in the script is Pecos, only mentioned in the first film. Among other things, we discover that Pecos is a woman, and we find out that the reason we don’t see her is that she’s investigating rumors of Hanoi Xan’s return in Asia.

By the way, there is no truth to the rumor that Big Trouble in Little China started off as Buckaroo Banzai Against the World Crime League but was rewritten. 

There is, however, truth to the rumor that Christopher Lloyd got the part of Doc Brown in Back to the Future because of Buckaroo Banzai. His co-star John Lithgow was the original choice for Doc Brown, but he was unavailable and suggested his Buckaroo Banzai co-star and fellow Red Lectroid Christopher Lloyd.

A Field Guide to Dimensions (Like the Astral) + Other things

(Disclaimer, this is shared gnosis. Believe it if you like. Or you might just find it interesting. Who knows.)

=First Dimension - “Source”=

Not much is really able to be described about this dimension. It’s simply where most souls are created. It’s a bunch of energy coalesced into a big soul factory.

=Second Dimension - Astral=

This dimension consists of loose energy which is able to be shaped very easily, but isn’t very solid. It’s quite abstract, and every one of us has a little pocket of the Astral where we go when we sleep. There are all sorts of entities here, mostly nonsensical and such. It reminds me of the realm of Hermaeus Mora in Skyrim, if you were to compare the feel of it to something. But it feels different in all parts of the Astral, really. So it’s very difficult to describe.

=Third Dimension - Physical Subdimension=

You’re living in it right now.

=Third Dimension - Energetic Subdimension=

Where all the energy side of things happens in the 3rd. Very closely related to the physical. They interact with each other and it’s very interesting.

=Fourth Dimension - Etheric=

The Etheric consists of layers stacked on top of one another and blended together to create a hardly noticeable flow between Hell (more dark, located at bottom), Purgatory (balanced, in middle), and Heaven (more light, at top). These aren’t your cliche Heaven, Hell and Purgatory. And even though demons populate Hell and Angels populate Heaven, and many other entities populate Purgatory, they are simply people and are not defaultly “good” or “evil.” They are as flawed as we are. In fact, I’ve known amazing demons and asshole angels.

There are also elemental realms in here. Think of it a bit like a clock or a compass. You’re in the center, and on the edges, the further you walk towards a direction, the more an element is magnified until it fades into a full realm of almost complete darkness, light, fire, and so on. It’s beautiful, really. And this can happen in any of the layers.

=Fifth Dimension - Mythic=

The Mythic is the place that consists of most mythology and most urban legends and all that. Centaurs, elves, pixies, fae, kitsune, etc. It’s one flat plane that has a day/night cycle. But don’t get too excited, flat-earthers. The night is very dangerous and consists of almost tangible darkness that will manifest things in it if you look at it or notice it. It essentially feeds off your attention. Specifically your fear. Because you have to form a link with something to examine or acknowledge something, even if it is temporary, and the darkness uses this fear to its advantage. But during the day, it’s quite nice.

=Sixth Dimension - “Minor-Divine”=

This dimension and upwards, I don’t have as much information about, but I’ll do my best to inform you. This is essentially where the minor “gods” exist. This is the area that most Greek myths take place, such as Heracles (no, it’s not “Hercules”) and all the other plays. Romans too. But there are also dragons in this dimension. Please note, that when I say “gods,” I am referring to a type of soul that is attuned to a certain element and/or property. Such as the god or goddess or deity of fire, or maybe nature. Anything, really. They aren’t as all-powerful as some of them think they are.

=Seventh Dimension - “Major-Divine”=

For the more known gods and goddesses, but not any legendary ones. More like the minor ones that were important enough to be written down, but not important enough to be told as stories that were passed down and such. It’s very similar to the sixth dimension, but a bit more chaotic and consisting of royalty and castles and palaces and everything you might want to make a divine territory to call your own.

=Eighth Dimension - “Legendary-Divine”=

Home to the rich snobs of Mount Olympus. Lots… and lots… and lots… of politics. It’s pretty stupid, really. But anyways. All the zodiac signs exist here. In fact, I have a funny story about Taurus, but I’ll get into it another time. In any case, you can probably figure out the rest. “Royalty” doesn’t even begin to describe it.

=Ninth Dimension - “Titan Test” (as I call it)=

Think of every dimension before this one as you growing up from being a child, all the way to adulthood. This is the test to see if you’re worthy of being a Titan. Titans exist in the 10th+. More on them in the next description, but this is essentially a rite of passage held by the Titans.

=Tenth and Beyond - “Titan stuff”???=

Think of this like the world we live in presently, but with actual magic magic. And a utopia-esque society. Not perfect, of course, but much much better. Titans exist here. It’s pretty much just a huge step up. But it’s a bit fantasy and sci-fi themed. Pretty cool, really. And each dimension above the 10th is kinda like another planet waiting to be explored. Yes, there’s around a million or so more dimensions. But they’re so small that it gets so condensed so fast and I’ve heard of titans ascending to the next, within an hour. Pretty crazy, huh? Well, to ascend and such, you need to do productive things to assist the titans and everything like that. There is a council of elders at the top of everything that decides who ascends and who doesn’t. It’s a bit complicated, yet also quite simple. I’ve said before that you need to literally experience things to fill a quota to ascend. Well, it’s similar here. Best way I can describe it, is that if you have more of an impact with your actions, then more of that literal experience you’ll gain.

=Misc Realms - The Void=

In between dimensions, there is this huge expansive infinitely large black emptiness, which isn’t exactly empty. Dimensions exist in the void, and the void itself actually has a consciousness. It is everything, but also nothing. Very interesting concept. Reapers, shadow people, shades, and void beasts exist here, and don’t think they don’t also ascend, because their energy simply changes as they progress.

The void has a sort of “bounty board” where anyone can place jobs. Or the void has tasks for people, to keep everything in balance. It’s a great place to find something to do if you’re bored. The void rewards knowledge and simply power, and the people have individual rewards for the jobs they post. Simple yet complex, again. And you thought reapers just exist in nothingness? Well, you’d be partially right, because it’s a bit of the aesthetic. But the void shaped by specific reapers and other entities who simply imagine and shape the energy. It’s sort of like art, really. The void keeps expanding and expanding. But this is also sometimes how dimensions are formed. Creators, editors, and destroyers (beings which have fully ascended and completed a checklist of sorts, look up my realities post for more info) can work together to create dimensions from the already existing worlds and planes. Pretty neat.

=Misc Realms - The Beyond=

A very very foul realm which consists of fear in itself. I personally don’t know where it is, but I speculate it’s simply “beyond.” The entities here are shapeshifters with no real form, who feed off of your fear by reading into you and transforming into your worst phobias. It’s not the best place to be. When these entities escape into the 3rd,its usually the stuff you see in the dark. (They’re different from shadow people, void beasts, shades, etc.) They don’t feel dark at all. They simply feel negative and are hard to lock onto.


I hope that was interesting and informative. I’m Roxas, and I’m a jack of all trades psychic. I post all sorts of metaphysical stuff and I believe that every belief system is true, so I try my best to cover all my bases in my posts. Follow me for more interesting and informative stuff like this.

Every time Morrissey mentioned David Bowie in “Autobiography”

Presented in the order with which they appear in the book.

The topsy-turvydom of 1972 had brought an explosion of music and art and newness into my life and I was now in full self-development mode and desperate to be free of censure. There was no one with whom to discuss these understandings, and certainly any interest in art and self-expression through music was something to keep hidden throughout the cracked corridors of St Mary’s.

I had bought the Starman single by David Bowie, which had climbed to number 42 in the chart, and I catch this epoch of self-realization for the first time on television as the exotic and shapely Ayshea Brough celebrates newly distributed color television with her show Lift Off with Ayshea.

As David Bowie appears, the child dies. The vision is profound – a sanity heralding the coming of consciousness from someone who – at last! – transcends our gloomy coal-fire existence. David Bowie is detached from everything, yet open to everything; stripped of the notion that both art and life are impossible. He is quite real, impossibly glamorous, fearless, and quite British. How could this possibly be?


T. Rex are my first concert and my dad and sister drop me off at daunting Belle Vue on June 16th 1972, watching me waddle away alone in my purple satin jacket – a sight ripe for psychiatric scrutiny. I am now determined, and newly emerged from Groovin’ with Mr Bloe by Mr Bloe. England was already set to change trains from Marc Bolan to David Bowie, whose Starman single had shaken everyone with its somewhere-over-the-rainbow chorus and Blue Mink’s Melting pot bridge.

Full-page advertising for David Bowie’s new Top Rank tour causes me to laugh excitedly as I see the now famous shot of spike-thin Bowie half-propped on a high stool, wearing tight white satin pants tucked into plastic boxer-boots, one hand on hip, the other hand pointing the way to somewhere, quite fanatically homosexual.

The face is damned-soul-as-savior-of-society, preacher and reformer, now free of his own unhappy childhood and willing to help you through yours should Black Sabbath and Deep Purple prove insufficient.

I crawl from the cultureless world to Stretford Hardrock in September 1972, where David Bowie is showcasing the venue. At mid-day he emerges from a black Mercedes, every inch the eighth dimension, teetering on high heels, with all the wisdom of our ancestors. Smiling keenly, he accepts the note of a dull schoolboy whose overblown soul is more ablaze than the school blazer he wears, and thus I touch the hand of this inexplicably liberating reformer; he, a Wildean visionary about to re-mold England, and I, a spectacle of suffering in a blue school uniform.


The womanly David Bowie is attacked by the Daily Mirror as being ‘a disgrace’ – although how he is a disgrace, or why, is not explained. Bowie’s extraordinary effect of menace upon British culture is largely forgotten now, but I watched it break like a thundercloud in 1972, and its presence was as volcanic as that which later would be termed Punk. An even darker force controlled the personalities of the New York Dolls, who are younger than Bowie and who are more-or-less transgender in appearance.


Jon Daley walked along Great Stone Road towards the Hardrock wearing silver knee-length boots, tight sky-blue jeans, blouse open to expose hairless body and flat belly, his spiked yellow hair expertly snipped, his eyebrows shaven off; nail polish and thin silver bracelets completing the dare. He looks sensational, as if plucked from the interplanetary beyond, living the trans earth Bowie reflection as beautiful creature – fearless and resolute.

So striking is he that a passing lorry slows down beside him and gruff voices call out in order to throw Jon off balance (well, this is the north) – a compliment, of sorts, since it proves just how much you are getting at people, pinging their own self-doubts. Jon doesn’t flinch. In this year of Aladdin Sane, Jon is the cover artwork in living form. The afternoon sun burns as Jon makes his way alone.


Moores and her Dukinfield friends were all lascivious young women, and they liked their men to look like the Dolls or Bowie. They despised the macho Boddington’s-eloquent chat-up drunks of which Manchester produced nothing but. Male beauty was Mick Ronson or Jerry Nolan, and any man wearing makeup rang all the right bells. For me, it is a relief to be with people who are not shockable, although my own style is Antique Market baggy trousers and cord jackets of men long dead. I know only lodging-house thrift, and I do not ever attempt glamor in this city of gangs.


By extreme contrast I see David Bowie in 1976 at Wembley. He is already cold in form and un-giving, and as I spend the night hanging around Euston Station awaiting the first train back to Manchester, I am lost in Bowie’s loss. It is Patti Smith, though, who rings as the first musical artist who promises nothing, and who gives nothing other than the sordid actuality of fact.


Mainstream success can often be the worst thing that can befall a true artist. Imagine David Bowie without his EMI America years – better to be absent and inactive in Hannover, or better my lover dead. Iggy was a face and a voice that had not been stated before his time. He recorded Raw Power as a moment of life that could never again be lived. It spat at you. Ask a boy from Michigan to be Elgar; he can’t. Ask a boy from Michigan to be Iggy; he can’t.


Johnny and I then have tea with Tony Visconti, most famously associated with the supremely noble works of T. Rex and David Bowie, but after our meeting Tony also declines. Free to howl again, I do so, and we record The Queen is Dead as we had recorded Meat is Murder – with Stephen Street making sense of it all.


In America, The Smiths album had stalled at number 150, and Meat is Murder spent thirty-two weeks meandering around the 110 position, whereas The Queen is Dead finally clipped into the 100 at number 70, and managed to cling on for thirty-seven weeks. Sire attempted appeasement by assuring me that neither the Sex Pistols’ album nor David Bowie’s The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust had entered the Billboard 100 – as if this should be our eternal blueprint.


The Smiths fallout continues in Denver, where someone has held an entire radio station at gunpoint until DJs make the promise to play Smiths music. Unwittingly, this gunman is providing the very first active radio promotion on behalf of the Smiths, and evidently a loaded gun is what it takes to get a Smiths song on the airwaves.

David Bowie, who feeds on the blood of living mammals, rises like Christopher Lee to present a bouquet of flowers to Johnny. But Johnny is not taken in. If I had felt that the Smiths’ demise had left me on the scaffold, then Johnny surely felt the same. He quickly joins the Pretenders, and he just as quickly is ‘asked to leave’. Chrissie Hynde explains to me that Johnny’s perpetual lateness made progress impossible.


I meet David Bowie for breakfast at a discreet restaurant at the foot of the Hollywood Hills. Both standing at the buffet with our empty plates, David hovers over what are horrifically called ‘cold cuts’. I nestle up beside him.

‘David, you’re not actually going to eat that stuff, are you?’

Rumbled, he snaps: ‘Oh, you must be HELL to live with.’

‘Yes, I am,’ I say proudly, as David changes course and sidles off towards the fruit salad, and another soul is saved from the burning fires of self-imposed eternal damnation.

David quietly tells me, ‘You know, I’ve had so much sex and drugs that I can’t believe I’m still alive,’ and I loudly tell him, ‘You know, I’ve had SO LITTLE sex and drugs that I can’t believe I’m still alive.’


At The Forum in Los Angeles a royal David Bowie walks onstage to join me for the encore; he is stately against my last-gasp exhaustion. The 12-year-old within me – unable to leave for school unless I’d soothed my sickness with at least one spin of Starman – bathes in the moment with disbelief. But there it is.


For the sweeping coda on I know it’s gonna happen someday Mick utilizes a heavily orchestrated pattern which we are certain echoes the falling moments of David Bowie’s Rock ’n roll suicide. I am slightly troubled by this resemblance, and I point out to Mick that the envelope has been pushed too far. ‘Yes, well,’ says Mick, ‘I wrote that original piece for Rock ’n roll suicide, so there won’t be any legal comeback.’ Mick goes on to say how he wrote the guitar parts for Starman and The man who sold the world. Mick had been naive in the past, but it was not for me to comment since I continued to be naive in the present.

Suddenly David Bowie telephones the studio and asks to speak to me. I am thrilled, but he tells me that he would like me to do a cover of one of his recent songs, and he stresses that if I don’t do the cover, ‘I will never speak to you again, haha,’ which is hardly much of a loss since David doesn’t ever speak to me. The song he’d like me to cover is called Mr Ed, and although I listen to the tape that he sends to the studio, nothing within the song shouts out to me.

A few months later I am at my mother’s house when the telephone rings. My mother hands me the 1940s shellac antique. ‘It’s for you – it’s David Bowie,’ and boyhood’s fire is all aglow again, although I cannot understand how David found my mother’s number. He explains that he would like to send me something through the post. ‘Do you have an address?’ I ask. ‘Oh, just write to me care of the management,’ he replies. ‘No, I meant do YOU have an address for ME?’ I say.

Dear Morrissey, Came by to see if you were OK. Called a couple of times but no answer. If I don’t hear from you or don’t see you, have a right smashin’ time in the States, and I will see you in the NY area. Take care of yourself. I’ll look forward to seeing you soon, OK. Mick.


The order of the universe calls upon Mick in April 1993, the year still so young, but already it has taken three close friends from my dishearteningly slim roster. The telephone rang and it was Suzi Fussey – once the girl of a Beckenham High Street hair salon who had created David Bowie’s ‘Ziggy’ cut, and then married Mick. Twenty-three years on from that day, Suzi says ‘My baby has gone,’ and I knew Mick was no more. I am asked to write about Mick in the Guardian newspaper, and talk about him on Radio One, but indecent haste forbids. Mick certainly saved Your Arsenal, and by extension he saved me.


A note arrives at the Mark Hotel on Madison Avenue in New York. It is addressed to my pseudonym Vince Eager, and is from David Bowie. That evening I am called over to David’s recording studio, where he guides me into a favored chair at the control desk – central to the speakers. David flicks on the tape and the mammoth waft of his version of my own I know it’s gonna happen someday attacks the room with tsunami turbulence. Seated beside me in spiritual quietude, Linder is pale with emotional understanding. David’s beautiful wife, Iman, folds herself away in a corner seat.

Iman had been plucked from the streets of Kenya to illuminate catwalks all over the world, and had become one of the first women of color to grace the covers of style magazines that had not previously given space to women who were non-Caucasian. Iman has a gentle patience and a friendly perception. She does not edge into the conversation until invited, yet her comments are always thoughtful and precise. I like her a great deal. Now launching her own skin-care range, I ask her what products other than her own does she use on her skin. ‘Oh, I just mix bits of everything,’ she says.

The sound coming from the speakers is the gift of life, and nothing will keep me level after David’s bestowal. Here is the unimaginable culmination of a mad process that began for me sometime in 1970, as On the Buses chirped annoyingly in the background. Jets of steam rise in the New York streets as Linder and I walk slowly back to the hotel, scrutinizing events. David had been an infallible guide, and these are the years when he still developed his ideas with pride, and always at considerable distance from the sparkl-ing modernities of pop. I am all parts gratitude.


‘I suppose you’re enormous in Cleveland?’ asks David Bowie. ‘No,’ I reply, utterly baffled. ‘Oh.’ He slumps.


Back in New York, David Bowie asks me, ‘Do you, er, still have the same band?’ ‘Yes,’ I say, and he looks downwards. The word is well established that the Morrissey band is not as good as the Smiths, or even up to much in their own right. It is an accusation that I must live with for the rest of my life, irrespective of how often the line-up changes.


The Lowry is the sharpest of Manchester’s hotels, many of which I stood outside for hours awaiting a squinted glimpse of Marc Bolan or David Bowie. And now it’s my turn. The bar is cleared as my private party is ushered in to take over.


The reclusive cardinal of Italian music is Ennio Morricone. Although historical and royal, he has agreed to conduct his orchestra on the track Dear God, please help me. This is unusual, since the maestro of maestros has refused U2 and David Bowie, but somehow says yes to porky me. The grandeur engulfs us, and my heart is pushed to the point of collapse as I watch Ennio in studio action. I find myself wishing for tears that don’t come. Oddly, I introduce Ennio to Tony Visconti, to whom Ennio gives one very quick up-and-down disdainful look, says nothing, and turns away. Tony is not troubled by this, whereas I would slit my own throat at the shock of such a rebuff.


Whilst recording in Rome I meet Elton John, who is shockingly down-to-earth and gives me high praise for You Are the Quarry. He tells me how he loved the New York Dolls and Jobriath, but how he considered Bowie to be ‘a vampire’. A pleasant evening passes under a Rome sun which – even into late evening – seems not to go away.


Up here in Spokane on May 6th we are in bear-baiting country, which grants me dutiful attack. I suggest we hunt the hunters, and the crowd roar approval. By Friday we are in Omaha, America’s bosom, city of sawdust and mockingbird houses. Daytime streets are dry and wide and always empty, but the audience at the Orpheum belies Nebraska’s poverty of spirit as parents hold their small children up to the stage to be kissed or hugged by a baffled singer.

The art of song lights the touch-paper in a way that nothing else can. The audience is confused, though, when I sing David Bowie’s Drive-in Saturday, because evidently they don’t know what it is. It is the only moment when I lose the crowd.

may i call you my own  [listen]

A mix for when Rose met the Eighth doctor whilst dimension hopping. Stuck together for a week while Rose repaired her cannon, they danced around each other. She didn’t want to reveal too much of his future and he wanted answers. There was an undeniable connection between them but he’d already lost so much and was unsure he could bear losing her too. They fell together with kisses and tangled limbs, only to have to fall apart in the worst way- harsh words and no goodbyes and suppressed memories. (x)

Falling Slowly - Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova // Between Us - Peter Bradley Adams // Dust to Dust - The Civil Wars // Anymore of This - Mindy Smith, Matthew Perryman Jones // Hardest of Hearts - Florence + The Machine // Fall in Love - Barcelona // Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls // Prehistoric - Now, Now // Sparks - Coldplay // Heavy In Your Arms - Florence + The Machine // Tomorrow - Daughter // Please Don’t Go - Barcelona // Bones - MS MR // Lesson Learned - Ray LaMontagne // Up in Flames - Coldplay

graphic credit: badwolfrun

  • FIRST DIMENSION: A single point. No depth or height or width.
  • SECOND DIMENSION: A plane (going forever), also includes any thing you can draw on a flat surface. Only height and width, no depth.
  • THIRD DIMENSION: Any object that exists in multiple 2-D planes at once. (Ex: a cube, a chair, a fork.) Anything with height, width, and depth.
  • FOURTH DIMENSION: Adding time to the third detention, AKA the detention we as humans live in. Any 3-D object that exists (and changes) along a linear timeline.
  • FIFTH DIMENSION: This gets into being able to manipulate time, being able to bend, stretch, and stop it. Time is an illusion in this detention because /the timeline happens all at once/. There is no future or past
  • SIXTH DIMENSION: This concept works with more than one timeline at once. It's essentially the multiverse theory.
  • SEVENTH DIMENSION: Basically being able to manipulate the time lines. This includes jumping between them, altering them, crossing them, creating them, and destroying them.
  • EIGHTH DIMENSION: Basically the ability to jump through every dimension there is, as well as bend and manipulate all the dimensions.
The Dimensions of Time: Dismantling the Old Paradigm

So I’ve been noticing this pattern of people and starseeds particularly having a harder time dealing with 3d perception or in general just a hard time dealing. My guess on this is that as we move more into the heart center, the old paradigm is breaking even further. The old systems just aren’t working anymore and it’s starting to show through our actions, our thoughts and most definitely our emotions. 

Another thing I keep hearing from others is there is this intense emotional wave that is coming over people. One of my healing friends mentioned it feels like the summer of expansion of the heart center and i couldn’t agree more. The Universe is really getting in touch with our emotional body and these high emotional bursts are as if the heart is opening and opening taking in these new energies of unconditional love from the Earth’s galactic core. The sudden urge to cry, express yourself truthfully, lots of honesty(lies are much harder to believe anymore, you see right through them), and there is this vulnerability. A very raw honest emotional state if i had to pinpoint it. I believe this inability to deal is because there is a friction in the air, it’s as if the old paradigm and the new paradigm are kinda straddled between us bouncing off of each other. It would be the catalyst of entropy in many ways because the old energy and the new are building up like a huge ball that is snowballing.

We’re essentially straddled between worlds and it’s starting to weigh in on us. The whole feeling tired of the old energy is because this is our past selves, letting go of 3rd dimensional perception, dualistic thinking. Releasing the old self, the old 3d self is dying and the New soul of evolved consciousness is being reborn. Now we are awakening into 4-5th perception which is more in balance between the mind and the heart. It’s the mind-heart unification again. So to work out the kinks we’re going to encounter that teeter totter feeling of moving back and forth between the two. It’s a very surreal feeling. Like yesterday i felt very nostaligic, not motivational and just more inner with my thoughts and memories. Then the next day i felt very motiviational and very external bouncing with energy. It’s as if I kept wanting to go inside myself rather than interact with people then the opposite happened the next day. wtf? Then what’s funny is i see others encountering the same feelings! 

So truthfully this is a powerful message deep down, this means we are releasing the old paradigm and the old structures are breaking within the system. Our old karmic self is dying and our new evolved soul is being reborn. Our memories of the old are releasing and we are opening the door for ourselves to operate more from a unified place between the heart and mind rather than just strictly the mind. This opens the doorway to possibilities and infinite probabilities.  This also ties into 8 circuitry theory that one of my followers mentioned. We’re moving more into the 5th and 6th circuits and upon a little research as the Tree of life is ridiculously interconnected between the circuits it also got me into dimensions. If 1-4 are more left hemisphere, material ego world of thought and we’re moving more into the 5th and 6th this would translate to moving out of the 4th dimensional and into the 5th-7th triad. 

I found an awesome theory that i wanted to share, let’s break this down…

External image

This is the tree of life and you see in this diagram, each sephiroth (Malkuth, Hod, Netzach, etc)  is connected to a different Circuit. The circuits are divided by dimensions of perception within our consciousness. As you see the number, for instance 1 is the bio-survival circuit connected to the Root Chakra and Maluth, the kingdom and so forth. The beauty of the Tarot is that the tarot cards also represent the Tree of Life which is a model for our Universe and our unified Consciousness, everything is a symbol! So pay attention Tarot lovers if you don’t already know this :)

I stumbled on a forum by accident talking about the circuits and one person broke the circuits down into the dimensions. Let’s see if they line up with the chakras as well. 

“The bio-survival circuit (1) correlates to the first dimension. The first dimension is a line, so for any creature being aware of only this dimension, there are only two choices available for reacting to a stimulus: approach or flee/attack. One can only travel forwards or backwards on a line. 

(Isn’t the Root chakra always about our surivival instincts, adrenal, fight or flight? Etheric Body, First dimension/bio-surivial circuit is what we experience as a baby, our primal instinctual self. Dimension 1 is time (physical motion.))  

The emotional circuit (2) correlates to the second dimension. This circuit formed on Earth when animals (vertebrates) appeared and started competing for territory. The second dimension can be seen as a plane, a grid divided up for territory. 

(The emotional circuit is about up-down, raw emotions, separation of behavior, this starts when we first learn to walk, Also connected to our senses, Sacral chakra, Emotional Body, 2nd dimension is a grid.  Dimension 2 is feeling (emotional motion.) )

The dexterity-symbolism circuit (3) correlates to the third dimension. When animals think in the third dimension, they can apply logic and start to use tools, because they can imagine objects in 3D even when they can see only one side of an object at a time. The analogy "depth of thinking” comes from the idea of the third dimension of depth. 

( Solar Plexus, The Divine Will, how we triangulate the universe and create our reality.  This is where the maturation of the Ego mind takes place. Our personal Power. 3rd dimension is always about polarities, dualism, good vs evil, separation of spirit and ego. Our Mental Body. Dimension 3 is thought (mental motion.) )

The socio-sexual circuit (4) correlates to the fourth dimension. This circuit has to do with the transmission of culture, including morals and behaviors, across generations, which deals with the passage of time, a direction in the fourth dimension. 

(The Fourth dimension is always talking about Time because it is laced in paradox. The heart is connected to the Astral body it is our driving vehicle, the station of the Merkaba. This is where energetic cords are created. The socio-sexual circuit is often associated with Oxytocin, the hormone chemical of love. You feel this chemical during childbirth, when you first fall in love or whenever you move into your heart center. Dimension 4 is spherical separation) 

The neurosomatic circuit (5) correlates to the fifth dimension. When a consciousness is at the fifth circuit, the individual is aware of endless possibilities. This can be seen as a perception of the waves of probability of the fifth dimension. 

(The 5th dimension, endless probabilities. The Neurosomatic circuit allows us to see into multi-dimensional reality instead of strictly space-time. It allows a fluid perception of our consciousness. The ability to see past-present and future as ONE, the unified self operating from Present Time of NOW. We encounter this circuit during smoking Pot or anything of similar nature.  The etheric template. This is the THROAT chakra, our communication source, the barrier into telepathy and interchanneling of frequency. How you know what another is thinking….Pure Starseed territory here ;) Dimension 5 is circular separation. ) 

The neuroelectric circuit (6) correlates to the sixth dimension. “The characteristics of this circuit are high velocity, multiple choice, relativity, and the fission-fusion of all perceptions into parallel science-fiction universes of alternate possibilities.” It is here that we can consciously choose which waves of probability we want to work with to create a reality. 

( Well we all love dimension 6 because it is home to our Third eye and pineal gland perception. The Mind’s EYE. The inner self. Where our Intuition and inner feelings are most activated. Our celestial Body. This is the circuit where the mind becomes aware of itself. Metaprogramming. This is where Telepathic communication becomes the norm and opens the door for intercommunication. People with only left brain circuitry won’t understand this level yet. Dimension 6 is linear separation.

The neurogenetic circuit (7) correlates to the seventh dimension. Describing a point in the seventh dimension as infinity recalls the perceptions of reincarnation and immortality that comprises the seventh circuit. 

(The thousand petaled lotus, Divine Enlightenment sung by the Crown. 
this circuit is connected to our past life memories, our genetic DNA structure, the akashic records, our unconscious, it is the connecting source of Christ consciousness into the God-source of IAM.  This is the Ketheric Template, Where one knows they are ONE with the divine God/Goddess within themselves. Dimension 7 is electric energy, the building block of physical matter. )

The neuro-atomic circuit (8.) correlates to the eighth dimension. It’s not neccessary for a consciousness to be housed in a physical body in order to experience this circuit. The eighth dimension encompasses different infinities, just as in the eighth circuit “space-time is obliterated; the speed of light barrier is transcended,” showing different initial conditions for the creation of a universe. “

(The 8th Chakra is the Soul Star chakra that helps communicate to your higher self. It also contains our karmic residue and karmic bonds we carry on into this life. It connects into Ascension and Ascended beings/Masters. The Serpent of Kundalini ascended past the Crown…The 8th circuit is our connection to DMT, how we operate outside of Time and Relativity.  Time Travel of intergalactic consciousness. Dimension 8 is magnetic energy, the primal field of the universe.)

OF course there are higher Dimensions as this reality is composed of over 13 but these are bases of our consciousness(the human mind/body spirit) not the universal consciousness of the multiverse.  I believe we’re opening ourselves to the higher circuitry of consciousness 5-7 eventually 8. The dimensions are endless but this is truly only the beginning of Learning to see inside of our growing Evolved Souls of Consciousness. 

Thoughts, feelings, opinions welcome <3

The Eighth Jump

This was kinda sorta somewhat inspired by @timepetalsprompts ficlet prompt of a Parent Trap AU, submitted by the lovely @allegoricalrose. It’s not an actual Parent Trap AU, but it got me thinking about what might have happened if dimension-hopping!Rose met Tentoo, so this totally counts, right? ;)

Dimension Hopping Rose, Tentoo; Tentoo x Rose; ~1500 words

While on a Cannon jump, Rose comes across what she believes to be a parallel version of the Doctor, who gives her the strength and encouragement to continue looking for him.


Rose gasped as her feet it the ground with enough force to nearly buckle her knees out from under her. Her head spun; she closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the impending nausea. When her head stopped pounding and her stomach settled, she opened her eyes.

The London landscape greeted her. Did she do it? Was she back home? Her heart fluttered with the prospect of being back in her proper universe once more.

A shadow passed over her and she looked up: a zeppelin. Dammit. She growled in frustration and raked her fingers through her hair as she tried to swallow the crushing disappointment. So not home then; just a few miles down the road. Dammit.

She sighed, allowing herself a moment of self-pity before she sucked in a breath, straightened her shoulders, and began the trek back to the Torchwood offices. As she meandered aimlessly into a nearby park, she tried to give herself a pep talk to melt away the lead weight that had settled in her stomach. This was only the eighth Cannon jump; she shouldn’t be so hard on herself. So what if she hadn’t actually managed to leave this universe yet? It would happen, one day. She had to keep looking.

Keep reading

The Dimensionality of Objects

Objects have always been three dimensional to me and  anything beyond the familiar three dimensions makes my brain hurt and I become dimensionally challenged.   For those familiar with string theory, a theory of everything that tries to unify all forces that exist in nature into one single theory, all the objects including  space is made up of these tiny particles of energy called strings and the causal narrative lends itself to eleven dimensions, parallel universes and black holes.  As humans are confined to a three dimensional membrane of the eleven dimensional space we can’t experience any of the other dimensions.

I tried elevating my brain beyond  the three dimensions by watching Nova videos and reading String Theory for Dummies (the book really exists !!) but it didn’t help me get out of my three dimensional comfort zone.  Whenever I don’t understand something I come up with my own theory and it is no different this time around. It is my defense mechanism at play to justify my inability to understand the subject matter. 

If humans and their mathematical modeling of objects, physics of nature, convergence of perception and philosophy is the crux of string theory my hypothesis is the the equivalent of  cat playing with a ball of yarn.  Most of the objects around us are geared for every day comfort - food, clothes, gadgets and furniture etc. When we add the 4th dimension of time they become trendy and temporal. Marketers add a fifth dimension - rare, limited edition, signed etc. to make them unique and special. Then comes the sixth dimension when an object needs more objects like barbie toys, video games and electronic gadgets - an universe by themselves.  

Then comes the seventh dimension - we attach emotions to objects and become sentimental about them. Eighth dimension is when you come under the gravity of the objects and you become clueless without them. Ninth dimension is when the objects start taking control of you and your life revolves around these objects. We enter into tenth dimension when we let go of human relationships for the sake of objects. Eleventh and final dimension is when all the previous dimensions collapse as we get detached with the objects and they end up in a black hole.  

Recently I had an experience in eleventh dimension with one of my favorite objects. I grew attached to my hair dryer over the years and it became an indispensable part of my life. Of late I could sense a feel of embarrassment and belittlement in my hair dryer whenever I use it on few leftover follicles on my scalp. I realized time has come for me give up on my hair dryer as I couldn’t see it suffering. The next moment it got sucked into black hole.

Humans are object-ful and in our quest  for objects,  objects and more objects we sometimes either forget the  humans that live alongside these objects or tend to mix up other humans as objects. The good part - most of us do innately understand dimensions beyond the familiar three dimensions without ever realizing the existence of them.  Personally I was little disappointed with myself for not being able to understand the language, constructs and mathematics behind the string theory but just like the cat and the ball of yarn  I am content with my own string hypothesis for now.

Will, meet Thammuz, a minor demon from the eighth dimension. Thammuz, meet Will, a minor Shadowhunter from – Wales, was it?“
I will rip out your eyes,“ hissed the creature. ”I will tear the skin from your face.
"Don’t be rude, Thammuz,” said Magnus “Will has questions. You will answer them.”
Will shook his head. “I don’t know, Magnus,” he said. “He doesn’t look like the right one to me.”
“You said he was blue. This one’s blue.”
“He is blue,” Will acknowledged, stepping closer to the circle of flame. “But the demon I saw – well, he was really a cobalt blue. This one’s more … periwinkle.”
What did you call me?” the demon roared with rage. “Come closer, little Shadowhunter, and let me feast upon your liver! I will tear it from your body while you scream.
—  Clockwork Prince