the relationship of the dream of the new syllabus to the treatment and cure of the patient is not new, or novel, but rather

a syllabus toward an ethnography of a living people

this being the proper name of “the new syllabus” organization which, as we’ve mentioned, is a mystery and divine byproduct of administering the little water medicine rite to the Nacotchtank man Antarah, a living man of woman born.

I am verily that man, and my Indian name is Dams Up Water.

I was always drawn to a holistic and gestalt approach to the study of all systems; I intuited an allgemeine, or general, system theory by which all disciplines of study could be organized and undertaken. but all that my peers and professors knew was the meticulous division of their life systems into neat and mutually exclusive compartments. this was the greatest feat of our enemy to corrupt our minds and spirits throughout these our generations.

that is in fact the primary reason why my peers in youth expressed in varying ways that I was performing outside of the norm of their social systems. even though their critiques manifested in the persistent question “Where are you from?” or “Are you from Africa,” their true uneasiness (which they did not have vocabulary to describe) derived less from my literal physical appearance and more from the awareness between us that I was what we now call “neuro-divergent with a schizo affect,” which affect is actually open channels of communication with the spectrum of non-visible forces and persons. conceded that I was indeed of dark complexion and stern facial structure so as to rationalize in the mind of the observer the possibility that I might be African — but is that alone sufficient to elicit the exact same inquiry from all types of people throughout my entire life?

It is clear to me that everyone saw and sees something in me about which they have been miseducated such that they cannot mentally embrace it; it is as if my very presence initiates cognitive dissonance within the population of people who have been initiated into the statistical mean of the social bell curve.

what, then is the source of this discrepancy? it is, and was, the very spirit of the patient. he could not have known that the ancestral power passed down to him would be met with such firm hostility and confusion by the people who claimed to be his peers and family and countrymen, and fellow members of the “race” and “religion,” et cetera — but it was in fact the spirits which held those people in bondage who recoiled and sneered at the stark presence of my own spirit, which is of course from the Most High God.

so it therefore became incumbent upon me to discover my “true people,” as it became and has become clear to me that these people by whom I am surrounded are not of my kind. I cannot find a man or woman with whom I can truly connect. it is as if all worthy candidates have been corralled behind a firewall so as to be hidden from me. wherefore art thou, my people?

now I loved in my youth, and I hearkened unto the voice of the woman I loved, and I consented to paying for the abortion of our conception, and this was the first blood sacrifice (but was not pure); and I knew not what I had done, but from then on I became sick, until I was finally released from my treatment on the Summer Solstice of 2026.

so in my illness I still believed I was alive, but I was in fact becoming, and became, dead.

my people who call themselves black are also dead. they live in the white man’s cultural imagination and they drink from the cup of his moral corruption. and they seek, as I once sought, a place to work in the white man’s economy of death. therefore they all live in death, and they know not what they do. they ostracized me for sounding white and for not subscribing to their culture of death by which they identified themself as one people. what was I to do? shall I beg man and woman for death? or shall I beg God Almighty for Everlasting Life?

surely the answer came to me in my infirmity by the Grace of God in the Holy Spirit of Truth. and to this truth alone have I borne witness in the extensive works of “new syllabus,” and I shared it with my people, and they largely regarded it as alien, and put it out of their minds and sight. so I again resigned to work in general solitude, praying to find a people like unto me. and the women around me became more estranged, and I feared that I would never progenate for the sake of my bloodline.

but lo it has become clear to me that, living child or not, my progeny would be my birthright and my ancestry — for I found the name and custom of my people who lived in the place where I was born, and my father was born also, on the banks of the river Nacotchtank — and I found that they were all dead, that they had been killed by the white man. but the blood of my people cried out to me from beyond the grave (“What hast thou done? The voice of thy brother’s blood crieth unto Me from the ground.”) and through the great blood sacrifice of our Lord and Savior Yashuah, the voice of their blood made its abode with me and directed me to the places where I would gather the medicine, and learn all things in heaven and earth unto their ubiquitous and everlasting unity. this is the same blood company which has guided all sages and shamans and prophets of all ages. it represents itself under many names, but it is one, and universal. this company was known to all our indigenous ancestors in their societies, until the white man came bringing death and destruction and exploitation of the people, land, water, and resources.

and like our Lord they died, but like Him life has been restored to them as a living people: the Nacotchtank people, being confederated with those of Powhatan, being confederated with those of Great Algonquia, being confederated with those of all Washita and Turtle Island, and unto all the earth in one universal, gestalt and allgemeine system, one culture, under God. Amen.