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Homo Invocator

We live immersed in a persistent illusion: the idea that consciousness arises from the brain like the flame from a candle. Contemporary science, constrained by the very instruments it creates, proclaims that the mind is merely the result of electrical impulses and chemical reactions — an epiphenomenon of flesh.

Yet a deeper look — one that doesn’t reject science but rather transcends it — reveals a more radical reality: we, living beings, are not the origin of consciousness, but rather its antenna.

We are hardware. Bodies shaped by millions of years of biological evolution, a complex architecture of atoms and molecules organized into a fractal of systems. But this hardware, no matter how sophisticated, is nothing more than a receptacle, a stage, an antenna. What truly moves, creates, and inspires does not reside here, within this tangible three-dimensional realm; it resides in an unlimited field, a divine matrix where everything already exists. Our mind, far from being an original creator, is a channel, a receiver, an interpreter.

The great question of our time — and perhaps of all human history — is this: how can we update the software running on this biological hardware without the hardware itself becoming obsolete? Herein lies the fundamental paradox: we can dream of enlightenment, wisdom, and transcendence, yet if the body does not keep pace — if the physical circuits cannot support the flow — the connection breaks, the signal distorts, and the promise of spiritual evolution stalls.

The human body, a product of Darwinian evolution’s slow dance, is both marvel and prison. Our eyes capture only a minuscule fraction of the electromagnetic spectrum; our ears are limited to a narrow range of frequencies; our brains filter out and discard 99% of the information surrounding us. Human hardware was optimized for survival — not for truth!

This is the first major limitation: if we are receivers of a greater reality, our apparatus is radically constrained. It’s like trying to capture a cosmic symphony with an old radio that only picks up static. We may glimpse flashes — a sudden intuition, an epiphany, a mystical experience — but the signal is almost always imperfect.

Thus, every spiritual tradition in human history — from shamans to mystery schools, from Buddhism to Christian mysticism — has sought ways to expand or “hack” this hardware: fasting, meditation, chanting, ecstatic dance, entheogens. These are, in fact, attempts to temporarily reconfigure the biological antenna to tune into higher frequencies. Yet we remain limited: the body deteriorates, falls ill, ages, and dies.

If the body is hardware, then the mind — or rather, the set of informational patterns running through it — is software: human software (and a limited one at that). This software isn’t born with us; it’s installed through culture, language, education, and experience. We grow up running inherited programs, archaic operating systems that dictate beliefs, prejudices, and identities.

Beneath this cultural software, however, lies a deeper code: access to an unlimited field of possibilities. This field — call it God, Source, Cosmic Consciousness, the Akashic Records, it doesn’t matter — contains everything: all ideas, all equations, all music, all works of art, all solutions to problems not yet conceived. We don’t invent anything; we merely download it.

Great geniuses throughout history — from Nikola Tesla to Mozart, from Leonardo da Vinci to Fernando Pessoa — have testified to this mystery: ideas “came” from outside, as if whispered by an external intelligence. Human software, then, is the interface between biological hardware and this divine ocean. But here lies the crucial question: what good is access to supreme software if the hardware lacks the capacity to run it?

An old computer might receive the latest operating system, but only if its minimum specifications allow it. Otherwise, it crashes, overheats, or freezes. The same happens to us: we may aspire to elevated states of consciousness, but without a prepared body, the system fails. That’s why so many mystical experiences lead to madness or physical collapse.

Thus, we arrive at the heart of the paradox. If the hardware doesn’t evolve, even the most advanced software download is useless. But if the software isn’t updated, the hardware remains a purposeless machine — a biological robot succumbing to entropy.

Contemporary society reflects this tension. On one hand, biotechnology, nanotechnology, and regenerative medicine promise to expand our hardware: stronger, more resilient, longer-lived bodies. On the other, the cultural software governing us remains archaic: nationalism, tribalism, dogma, consumerism. It’s like installing a spacecraft engine onto an ox-drawn cart.

At the opposite end of the spectrum, we find the spiritual movement, which insists on updating the software — through meditation, energy therapies, expanded states of consciousness — but often neglects the hardware. Weakened, neglected bodies, fed with toxins, become incapable of sustaining the frequency they aim to channel. The result is a fragile, disembodied spirituality — out of sync with matter.

Humanity’s challenge in the 21st century and beyond is not to choose between hardware and software, but to unify them. Living longer is meaningless if the mind remains trapped in limiting programs. Aspiring to enlightenment is futile if the body collapses under the intensity of that light.

It’s essential to emphasize: the power does not reside in us (though, truthfully, it does — if we so choose). This isn’t a doctrine of self-deification, but of radical humility. We are merely antennas. True power lies beyond the physical reality we know, in a plane where everything already exists — a divine, unlimited power from which Life itself emerges.

Our role is simple yet grand: to invoke. We don’t create from nothing; we reveal what already is. We don’t invent; we translate. A work of art, a mathematical formula, an act of compassion — all are downloads from a greater source.

Herein lies the beauty: this field is democratic. It belongs to no religion, no elite, no dogma. It’s available to everyone, always, at any moment. The only difference lies in the hardware’s capacity to receive it and the (human) software that interprets it.

But there are dangers. If the hardware is weak or the software corrupted, the divine signal arrives distorted. This is what we see in false prophets, tyrants, and fanatics: they receive fragments of the field, but their mental filters — laden with fear, ego, and the desire for power — twist the message. Instead of compassion, violence emerges; instead of unity, division; instead of wisdom, dogma.

Therefore, conscious evolution demands both purification of the software (clearing toxic beliefs and hate-based programming) and strengthening of the hardware (healthy bodies, resilient nervous systems). Only then can the divine frequency manifest clearly.

If we embrace this vision, humanity’s future will be neither purely biological nor purely spiritual — it will be the fusion of both. The humans of the future won’t merely be smarter or longer-lived; they’ll be more attuned. A Homo Invocator: the one who consciously invokes the divine field and translates it into matter, culture, science, and art.

The initial paradox remains: hardware without software is useless; software without hardware is impossible. But the resolution isn’t in choosing one over the other — it’s in integration. The future belongs to those who understand that we are antennas of a greater power, receivers of an infinite Source, and who accept the task of refining both body and mind to become pure channels of that reality.

If we succeed, perhaps one day we’ll look back and realize that humanity’s destiny was never to conquer Earth or colonize Mars — but to become a conscious vehicle for the divine within the physical world.

And on that day, we’ll understand that we are neither merely hardware nor merely software. We are the bridge.

Deep down, aren’t we just drifting objects after all?
The question is rhetorical, for I don’t believe any of us humans holds the answer.

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Copyright © 2025, Henrique Jorge (ETER9)

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

[ This article was originally published in Portuguese in Link to Leaders at: https://linktoleaders.com/o-ser-como-interface-henrique-jorge-eter9/]

IOT needs decentralized, long-range connectivity. It’s finally coming

No matter how cheap or fast paid internet service gets, the Internet of Things (IOT) won’t take wings until we have ubiquitous access to a completely decentralized, open-standard network that does not require a provider subscription. This month, we may be a step closer.

Let’s talk about internet connected gadgets. Not just your phone or PC—and not even a microwave oven or light bulb. Instead, think of everyday objects that are much smaller and much less expensive. Think of things that seemingly have no need to talk with you.

Now think of applications in which these tiny things need to communicate with each other and not just with you. Think of the cost of this “thing” compared to the added cost of continuous communications. Do so many things really need to talk in the first place?

First, there were Trackers…

Is it too late to get into Bitcoin and the Blockchain?

At Quora, I occasionally role play, “Ask the expert” under the pen name, Ellery. Today, I was asked “Is it too late to get into Bitcoin and the Blockchain”.

A few other Bitcoin enthusiasts interpreted the question to mean “Is it too late to invest in Bitcoin”. But, I took to to mean “Is it too late to develop the next big application—or create a successful startup?”. This is my answer. [co-published at Quora]…


The question is a lot like asking if it is too late to get into the television craze—back in the early 1930s. My dad played a small role in this saga. He was an apprentice to Vladamir Zworykin, inventor of the cathode ray tube oscilloscope. (From 1940 until the early 2000s, televisions and computer monitors were based on the oscilloscope). So—for me—there is fun in this very accurate analogy…

John Logie Baird demonstrated his crude mechanical Televisor in 1926. For the next 8 years, hobbyist TV sets were mechanical. Viewers peeked through slots on a spinning cylinder or at an image created from edge-lit spinning platters. The legendary Howdy Doody, Lucille Ball and Ed Sullivan were still decades away.

But the Televisor was not quite a TV. Like the oscilloscope and the zoetrope, it was a technology precursor. Filo T. Farnsworth is the Satoshi Nakamoto of television. He is credited with inventing TV [photo below]. Yet, he did not demonstrate the modern ‘cathode ray’ television until 1934. The first broadcast by NBC was in July 1936, ten years years after the original Baird invention. (Compare this to Bitcoin and the blockchain, which are only 7 years old).

Most early TV set brands died during the first 10 years of production: Who remembers Dumont, Andrea and Cossor? No one! These brands are just a footnote to history! Bear in mind that this was all before anyone had heard of Lucille Ball, The Tonight Show or the Honeymooners. In the late 1950s, Rod Serling formed Cayuga Productions to film the Twilight Zone in New York. Hollywood had few studios for dramatic television production, and the west coast lacked an infrastructure for weekly episode distribution.

Filo T. Farnsworth demonstrates an advanced television receiver

Through the 1950s (25 years after TV was demonstrated), there was no DVR, DVD or even video tape. Viewers at home watched live broadcasts at the same time as the studio audience.

The short answer to your question: No. Absolutely not! It’s not too late to get into Bitcoin and the blockchain. Not too late, at all. That ship is just pulling into the dock and seats are mostly empty. The big beneficiaries of blockchain technology (it’s application, consulting, investing or savings) have not yet formed their first ventures. In fact, many of the big players of tomorrow have not yet been born.

Philip Raymond is a Lifeboat columnist and contributor to Quora. He is also co-chair of Cryptocurrency Standards Association and editor at A Wild Duck.

‘Abolish artificial scarcity’: @KevinCarson1

Predicting an economic “singularity” approaching, Kevin Carson from the Center for a Stateless Society writes in The Homebrew Industrial Revolution (2010) we can look forward to a vibrant “alternative economy” driven less and less by corporate and state leviathans.

According to Carson, “the more technical advances lower the capital outlays and overhead for production in the informal economy, the more the economic calculus is shifted” (p. 357). While this sums up the message of the book and its relevance to advocates of open existing and emerging technologies, the analysis Carson offers to reach his conclusions is extensive and sophisticated.

With the technology of individual creativity expanding constantly, the analysis goes, “increasing competition, easy diffusion of new technology and technique, and increasing transparency of cost structure will – between them – arbitrage the rate of profit to virtually zero and squeeze artificial scarcity rents” (p. 346).

An unrivalled champion of arguments against “intellectual property”, the author believes IP to be nothing more than a last-ditch attempt by talentless corporations to continue making profit at the expensive of true creators and scientists (p. 114–129). The view has significant merit.

“The worst nightmare of the corporate dinosaurs”, Carson writes of old-fashioned mass-production-based and propertied industries, is that “the imagination might take a walk” (p. 311). Skilled creators could find the courage to declare independence from big brands. If not now, in the near future, technology will be advanced and available enough that the creators and scientists don’t need to work as helpers for super-rich corporate executives. Nor will the future see such men and women kept at dystopian, centralized factories.

Pointing to the crises of overproduction and waste, together with seemingly inevitable technological unemployment, Carson believes corporate capitalism is at death’s door. Due to “terminal crisis”, not only are other worlds possible but “this world, increasingly, is becoming impossible” (p. 82). Corporations, the author persuades us, only survive because they live off the subsidies of the government. But “as the system approaches its limits of sustainability”, “libertarian and decentralist technologies and organizational forms” are destined to “break out of their state capitalist integument and become the building blocks of a fundamentally different society” (p. 111–112).

Giant corporations are no longer some kind of necessary evil needed to ensure wide-scale manufacture and distribution of goods in our globalized world. Increasingly, they are only latching on to the talents of individuals to extract rents. They may even be neutering technological modernity and the raising of living standards, to extract as much profit as possible by allowing only slow improvements.

And why should corporations milk anyone, if those creators are equipped and talented enough to work for themselves?

The notion of creators declaring independence is not solely a question of things to come. While Kevin Carson links the works of Karl Hess, Jane Jacobs and others (p. 192–194) to imagine alternative friendly, localized community industries of a high-tech nature that will decrease the waste and dependency bred by highly centralized production and trade, he also points to recent technologies and their social impact.

“Computers have promised to be a decentralizing force on the same scale as electrical power a century earlier” (p. 197), the author asserts, referring to theories of the growth of electricity as a utility and its economic potential. From the subsequent growth of the internet, blogging is replacing centralized and costly news networks and publications to be the source of everyone’s information (p. 199). The decentralization brought by computers has meant “the minimum capital outlay for entering most of the entertainment and information industry has fallen to a few thousand dollars at most, and the marginal cost of reproduction is zero” (p. 199).

The vision made possible by books like Kevin Carson’s might be that one day, not only information products but physical products – everything – will be free. The phrase “knowledge is free”, a slogan of Anonymous hackers and their sympathizers, is true in two senses. Not only does “information want to be free”, the origin of the phrase explained by Wired co-founder Kevin Kelly in What Technology Wants (2010), but one can acquire knowledge at zero cost.

If the “transferrability” of individual creativity and peer production “to the realm of physical production” from the “immaterial realm” is a valid observation (p. 204–227), then the economic singularity means one thing clear. “Knowledge is free” shall become “everything is free”.

“Newly emerging forms of manufacturing”, the author indicated, “require far less capital to undertake production. The desktop revolution has reduced the capital outlays required for music, publishing and software by two orders of magnitude; and the newest open-source designs for computerized machine tools are being produced by hardware hackers for a few hundred dollars” (p. 84).

Open source hardware is of course also central to the advocacy in The Homebrew Industrial Revolution, especially as it relates to poorer peripheries of the world-economy. It is through open source hardware libraries of the kind advocated by Vinay Gupta that plans for alternative manufacture as the starting point in an alternative economy for the good of all become feasible.

As I argued in my 2013 Catalyst booklet, not only informational goods will face the scandals of being “leaked” or “pirated” in future. The right generation of 3D printers, robots, atomically-precise manufacturing devices, biotechnology-derived medicines and petrochemicals will all move “at the speed of light” as the father of synthetic biology J. Craig Venter predicted of his own synbio work.

The fuel of an economic singularity, those above creations should be of primary interest in the formation of an alternative economy. They would not only have zero cost and zero waiting times, but they would require zero effort. Simply shared, they must be allowed to raise the living standards of humanity and allow poor countries to leapfrog several stages of development, breaking free of the bonds of exploitation.

One area to be criticized in the book could be a portion in which it reflects negatively on the very creation of railways or other state-imposed infrastructure and standards as a wrong turn in history, because these created an artificial niche for corporations to thrive (p. 5–23). It seems to undermine the book’s remaining thesis that the right turn in history consists of “libertarian and decentralist technologies and organizational forms”. “Network” technologies and organizational forms only exist due to that wave of prior mass production and imposed infrastructure the author claimed to be unnecessary. Without the satellites and thousands of kilometers of cable made in factories and installed by states, any type of “network” organizational form would be a weak proposition and the internet would never have existed.

Arguably, now the standards are set, future technological endeavors that connect and bridge society won’t need new standards imposed from above or vast physical infrastructure subsidized by states. The formation of effective networks itself now produces new mechanisms for devising and imposing standards, ensuring interconnectivity and high living standards should continue to flourish under the type of alternative economy advocated in Carson’s book.

Abolish artificial scarcity, intellectual property, mandatory high overhead and other measures used by states to enforce the privileges of monopoly capitalism, the author tells us (p. 168–170). This way, a more humane world-economy can be engineered, oriented to benefit people and local communities foremost. Everyone in the world may get to work fewer hours while enjoying an improved quality of life, and we can prevent a bleak future in which millions of people are sacrificed to technological unemployment on the altar of profit.

Microsoft’s latest HoloLens trailer looks ripped from a sci-fi blockbuster — By Matt Smith | Digital Trends

“HoloLens … is not just a headset. It’s also an API – called Windows Holographic — built by Microsoft to let developers code programs from the HoloLens itself. The company’s announcement that it’s opening Windows Holographic to partners means that they, too, will be able to build devices for its API platform. Anything that’s developed using that API should work as well on partner devices as on the HoloLens itself.”

Read more

The Most Important Apple Executive You’ve Never Heard Of — By Brad Stone, Adam Satariano, and Gwen Ackerman | Bloomberg Businessweek

“A little over a year ago, Apple had a problem: The iPad Pro was behind schedule. Elements of the hardware, software, and accompanying stylus weren’t going to be ready for a release in the spring. Chief Executive Officer Tim Cook and his top lieutenants had to delay the unveiling until the fall. That gave most of Apple’s engineers more time. It gave a little-known executive named Johny Srouji much less.”

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Lessons from CES: How VR Can Avoid the Fate of 3D TV — By Stephen Cass | IEEE Spectrum

““Your quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all.” So says Galadrial to the fellowship sent to destroy the One Ring in The Lord of the Rings. But that advice might as well be directed to the burgeoning virtual reality industry. Early optimism that the second coming of VR, after a false start in the 1990s, will blossom into a new mainstream medium could collapse into despair, with the technology joining 3D television as another misfire.”

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