Вероника Радомира Крав
HARVEST. The hidden neuroscience of control. Vol. 1

Beware: you cannot unsee what you’ve read. There is no turning back. You are doomed to awaken.

Agreement

This text is the culmination of many years of work, and all rights are reserved. By purchasing a copy of this book, you acquire the right to read it for personal use only. Any reproduction, copying, online publication of excerpts, distribution, or resale — digital or printed — is prohibited. This book is distributed only through official platforms authorized by me. Purchasing from third-party resources is outright piracy, which guarantees neither the authenticity of the text nor the completeness of the publication. You hold in your hands a work about returning humanity’s most important resource. And this return begins with simple mutual respect. You value the time and effort invested in these pages, and this book will give you everything you need.

Preface

"Nothing has ever been more unbearable for man and for human society than freedom."

F. M. Dostoevsky, "The Grand Inquisitor"

There’s a feeling that comes uninvited in broad daylight. It seems like nothing out of the ordinary has happened yet. Everything is in place: you have a job, your loved ones are healthy, your basic needs are met, and in your pocket, a small, flat box connects you to the world. But somewhere deep inside, a dissent reverberates, unexplained. It’s as if a predictable behavioral pattern has malfunctioned, and with it, the entire fabric of everyday life has been shaken. You see it out of the corner of your eye, but when you focus, the picture evens out, returning to its former, completely convincing image. The dissent is usually attributed to age, the climate, fatigue, lack of a proper vacation — anything, really, just to keep sleeping. Such symptoms are suppressed with the standard fare: the news, TV series, alcohol, and for some, a marathon of self-acceptance is enough. But by morning, the protest returns with renewed vigor. Vacations don’t cure it, because fatigue has far more to do with it. This dissent is the only thing in you that still resists sleep. True work is directed exclusively toward this, contrary to the image of a successful and satisfied consumer.

To avoid false expectations, it’s worth clarifying the nature of this text. The vast majority of contemporary literature functions as ballast, consumed for short-term intellectual satisfaction: the reader closes the book with a pleasant heaviness in their head and remains within the same mental boundaries. This work operates in the opposite way. It is based on removal — eliminating the habit of turning a blind eye to the flaws of familiar reality. It’s like eye surgery: the light around you hasn’t changed, but you finally begin to see everything as it really is. Such literature is read slowly. Interacting with it in the same way is impossible, since the text of the book will be reflected in an already altered subject. As with any surgical intervention, there is a point of no return. Once enlightened, one never returns to darkness.

The book’s title was not chosen for decoration. The harvest is an ancient archetype of human consciousness, which arose long before the advent of kings, writing, and religious egregors. Its root myths are inextricably linked to the earth: the sickle, the ear of grain, the grain dying for rebirth, and the bread that unites life and death. We have reproduced these legends for millennia, mistakenly considering them the poetry of agriculture. But the discord with which awakening begins is a deep premonition that this archaic narrative was created for entirely different purposes. Because on this farm, the ear of grain walks on two legs. It faithfully pays its taxes, makes plans for the future, and is absolutely certain that it is a free master of its own land.

The reader has every right to ask: who built this conveyor belt, where to look for the mastermind, and why are millions standing in ranks without the slightest hint of rebellion? This diagnosis was made a century and a half ago, and no one has offered a more accurate answer since. Dostoevsky put it into the monologue of the Grand Inquisitor. Before us is a weary old man, in his own way, loving humanity. Having lived a long life, he came to the conclusion: freedom is the worst possible gift. It is too difficult for man, as it demands daily choice and personal responsibility. At the first opportunity, the average person transfers it to the shoulders of anyone willing to take this burden in exchange for guaranteed bread, a spectacular miracle, and power to which they can bow their heads. Dostoevsky examined the workings of this mechanism down to the smallest detail, calling the beneficiary by an older name and dressing him in religious vestments. It’s enough to remove the cassock, replace bread with the food from Chapter Four, miracles with gadget screens, and power with a digital algorithm — and this inquisitor will find himself in our century, without changing a single word of his speech. But the classic also knew the other side of the coin, the one that determines the position of the author and reader of this book. Projects of total subjugation are designed for the masses. And within the masses, there is always an invariable minority who are not satisfied with bread in exchange for refusing to choose, and who do not wish to be puppets in the hands of others. For the system, this is precisely the greatest threat. Of the total mass, approximately five percent stood out. The remaining 95 % are content with ready-made templates. This suspended animation is profound, and disturbing it is futile. This text is far from the format of a public sermon. This knowledge is for the few who stubbornly maintain dissonance within, while society proposes treating it as a mental disorder. Such an impulse is immediately detectable. But if you lack it, close the book without regret, give it to the sufferer, and go back to sleep. There’s no room for sarcasm or superiority here; the assessment is based on strict mathematical reality.

Before crossing the threshold, it’s worth considering the specifics of the environment. The searching minority is a lucrative target for business: the rapid "awakening" industry targets them cynically and on an industrial scale. The latest book or motivational speaker offers a two-week euphoria of a torn mask: the secret has finally been revealed. Then the light dims. Attention returns to its usual confines, to the smartphone and the same dissonance. This relapse brings nothing but exhaustion and a lack of trust. Let’s be honest: this experience is simply a transition to another phase of sleep, just as illusory. The simulation has learned to sell false freedom to anyone who yearns to emerge. But at least you’ll stop confusing a change of scenery with real liberation. Here lies the line between empty talk about meaning and a genuine emergence from suspended animation.

And since you’re still reading, it’s worth setting the price of entry. Taking it surreptitiously would be dishonest. It’s small, but it’s constant. Your attention is required, free from the habit of scrolling through your feed in between. Progressiveness is essential: this text precludes cursory reading for the sake of a momentary sense of completion. Finally, a complete lack of faith is a prerequisite. Blind trust is a destructive tool, blocking precisely the ability to analyze that the book seeks to restore. Every statement must be verified personally — through your own experience. In exchange, there will be no promise of salvation, recipes for happiness, or VIP access to secret knowledge. The only thing you will receive is a precise definition of the environment in which you find yourself. As is, without pretense or false conclusions. This preface marks the threshold. Through it They step over or take a step back. There’s no shame in retreating; the average person has thousands of soporific books at their disposal. But if the disagreement has been going on for a long time, the choice is obvious — it’s time to find out what it’s been warning you about all these years. Beyond the line, the road drops sharply, to the base of the building. Walk slowly, keeping your bearings. The darkness here is just a stopover. Stopping halfway will be a grave mistake. Further on, through the darkness, the light of the life that was taken from you will emerge.

From the Author

"The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few."

Gospel

Not much time has passed, dear reader, since the publication of my second book, "Transition: A Chronicle of the New Age". Now I feel deeply satisfied: just half an hour ago, I finished writing my third, no less significant work. Honestly, I didn’t intend to write a scary book. It just so happens that an honest book about the structure of our world is impossible to write otherwise, and I refuse to maintain the usual illusion. My main guideline in life is HIS: honesty, sincerity, and responsibility. I don’t know how to lie and I don’t want to learn it.

I’ll make it clear right from the start who I am and who I’m not, so that there’s no misunderstanding between us. There’s no point in me pretending to be a guru, prophet, or founder of yet another spiritual movement with membership fees. I have no affirmations or wish-making marathons for you. I won’t promise you that in twenty-one days a sack of money from the Universe will fall on your head or that the right visualization will transform your life into a utopia. I’m a person who spent many years in research, where such things are measured with devices including electroencephalograms, spectral analysis, and other equipment that can’t be explained to you that you’re a good person and have a kind heart. The machine doesn’t care; it lacks sensory organs and simply executes its programming. Year after year, the numbers on the monitor formed a picture that, many years later, you still can’t unsee. It’s like trying to forget your own face in the mirror. In this book, I have the courage to convey to you my worldview — everything I’ve ever seen and known. I won’t try to scare you or embellish reality. My goal is to convey what I’ve seen using the same images I used to explain it to myself. I’ll give you an example of one episode so you understand the kind of thing I’m talking about and to make sure I didn’t read it in other books. On the screen before me was a normal recording of the brain activity of a person immersed in the information flow, the same one in which we all find ourselves from morning until night. I observed how the unique pattern of its rhythms gradually faded and then leveled out, adjusting to the imposed frequency. It was like a discordant choir given a single note and told to hold on to it. The subject was convinced at this point that he was simply looking at the images presented to him, listening, and absorbing the information. Nothing special. But the device recorded how the person’s own self was fading away, giving way to a factory-managed, controlled signal. There was nothing mystical about it. — pure physics, numbers, and graphs. At that very second, something clicked inside me: it’s one thing to theorize, and quite another to observe personality changes in real time. From that day on, I could no longer look at our world the same way, with its eternally rushing crowds and endless social media feeds. I saw these frequencies everywhere. And my book is a way to show you how the system works through my eyes.

Why "Harvest"? Because I couldn’t find a more precise word, though I’ve run through countless titles in my head. People today are treated like crops. They are seeded with the necessary programs in early childhood, while the soil is fertile and ready to accept any seed. They are raised on carefully selected nutrition — informational, emotional, and chemical. They are kept in a strictly measured temperature of fear: a frightened person grows more obedient and doesn’t ask unnecessary questions. And in due course, they harvest everything they’ve managed to accumulate: attention, strength, faith, money, the time of their only allotted life. The most skillful thing about this harvest is that the ear of grain knows nothing of its own nature. It is convinced that it grows on its own, for itself, of its own free will, and in its own field. I watched for years as they convinced it that the field belonged to it, and one day I realized: I no longer have the right to remain silent about what I saw.

While we’re on the subject of words, I’ll also explain why the voice of this book sometimes sounds like a croak, though a lover of fine literature would likely prefer something else. I have no illusions about who I am to the sleeping. I am the one who circles above and sees from above the sower, the sickle, and what can never be discerned at the earth’s foot, among the thick ears of grain — and I say this sharply, without unnecessary sentimentality and without time constraints. No one gently warns of danger. If you need a nightingale to lull you to sleep, there’s plenty of such literature on the shelves, and they do their soporific work superbly.

Now about the tone: it will offend many, and it’s better to explain upfront than to respond to criticism later. This book is harsh and mocking in places. It speaks to you in a way that’s not typical in books about the soul and self-development, where the reader is expected to be patted on the head. You can’t say such things in a soft voice; it lulls. My goal is the exact opposite. I chose a tone that will awaken, understanding that it will cause offense or anger. Someone who wakes up irritated is immeasurably better than someone who sleeps with a blissful smile. If you start to feel uncomfortable as you read, don’t rush to slam the book shut and label the author as embittered. Leaving your comfort zone has always been beneficial. Peace only exists in sleep, but we are busy with other things here. I know what awaits me after this work is published, but fortunately, I have a strong immune system. Anyone who speaks out loud about hidden mechanisms is met with detachment by society. If what they say doesn’t deviate too much from the familiar worldview, they’re labeled an eccentric. But when a significant deviation from the norm occurs, they’re simply declared a crazed fantasist, or in extreme cases, a schizophrenic who needs some treatment. This is a new kind of inquisition: it no longer needs a fire, a diagnosis and a condescending smile are enough. I’ve been through enough of these smiles that they no longer bother me, and I’m warning you about them in advance for one reason: when you yourself begin to see what’s being said here and try to share it with someone, you’ll pass. through the same thing. You need to be prepared for this and not take criticism personally. Someone who has regained their sight doesn’t have to prove the sky is blue to someone still wandering in the dark.

I also need to warn you, because no one gave me this knowledge back then, and I learned my lesson myself. There’s a downside to insight, one that the glowing books about awakening don’t mention. When you begin to see the principles of how our simulation works, you’ll feel lonely. An invisible, yet quite noticeable, wall will rise between you and others: you’ll be paying attention to things they don’t see and speaking a language they don’t understand. Old friends will begin to seem asleep, and to them, you’ll seem either crazy or arrogant, imagining yourself superior. There will come a time when you’ll regret ever opening this book and want to return to ignorance, to the simple joys of the common corral. Well, you can’t go back. I warned you about this in advance. But on the other side of the wall, sooner or later, you’ll meet your own people — the few who are also awake. With them, one word is worth a year of idle chatter, because you’ll be on the same wavelength. The loneliness of the awakened is temporary. The sleep of the sleeping is lifelong. Make your choice consciously, knowing the value of both.

It’s worth clarifying right away what this book is not, so you don’t look for something it doesn’t contain. My work doesn’t aim to create a new religion, and I’m not suggesting you convert. This isn’t a warm-up before buying the next course in the infobusiness funnel. There will be no salvation for money, initiation for a donation, or secret knowledge for the select few who have paid for premium access. I ask nothing of you — no money, no faith, not even consent. The only price this book will take is your attention and a little courage to look at what you don’t want to look at. Nothing else. And believe me, that’s not cheap at all: attention, as you’ll soon discover, is the most valuable currency in this world.

Most people don’t need this book, and it’s even harmful: they sleep soundly, and waking someone who didn’t ask for it and who enjoys sleep is pointless. Those who feel cramped in the same crowd have always constituted a small percentage. The rest have gotten by just fine with ready-made answers, other people’s dreams, and opinions handed down from above, and have been content in their own way. I’m writing for those who have long, perhaps since childhood, lived with the feeling that something is wrong with this world, that our reality is illusory. Not in the sense that it doesn’t exist; it certainly exists and we can sense it with all our senses. Only our perception is illusory here. There’s an axiom: how we perceive the world is how we create it. The entire image of life conveyed to us is fabricated, and beneath its flawless texture runs a conveyor belt that is carefully hidden from us. If something within you resonates, you’ve found what you’ve been looking for. Consider these pages as the voice of your own self, the one you’ve been drowning out for years with imposed surrogates. But if the text seems like nonsense to you, close the book and give it to someone who seeks the truth, and live your life in peace. Those who are already feeling uneasy — that’s normal and even good: fear at the entrance is definitely better than elation. The main thing is not to confuse the two sides of the same feeling. There’s an animal fear in the face of a predator, with standard reactions: fight, flight, or freeze — it’s precisely this hormonal cocktail that your system has been pumping into your subconscious for years. But there’s a different kind of fear — the kind that takes your breath away on the threshold of something real, before the door behind which everything will definitely be different. Many fear death, but a person truly fears growth, because you’ll have to give up everything you’ve relied on before. If this is what you’re experiencing, — Go. Behind this door, you won’t fall into the abyss; the real you is there. The one who was taken from you in childhood and whom you may have long since ceased to feel within yourself. Fearing a meeting with yourself is the last thing you should do, although for some reason it is precisely this that people avoid more than anything else. But remember that all true knowledge has its price. This book will also take something from you — the convenient illusions that make it so comfortable to fall asleep. The right to say "I didn’t know" will disappear from your lips. From now on, you are informed, and great knowledge requires equal responsibility. The former ease with which you previously perceived other people’s opinions and everyday broadcasts will also disappear from your life. Now the very seamy side of what is happening will appear before your eyes, and you will no longer be able to close your eyes to it. In the first months, this experience will seem difficult. In years to come — priceless. But I am obliged to warn you about it at the entrance, not retroactively. In no way did I write this book out of hatred for the system.

It was written for the same reason that a person who escaped a burning house returns and bangs on the neighbors’ windows, even though it would have been easier and safer to walk out into the night without looking back. I managed to escape and saw enough, depriving myself of the moral right.

Keep silent, so as not to become complicit in collective movements. Banging on other people’s windows is a thankless task: the sleeper may become frightened and embittered, and you shouldn’t expect their gratitude. But if at least one of you, after reading this, wakes up and reclaims control over their own lives, all this work will have been well worth it.

A few words about why there are three books, not one, as I was advised for the reader’s convenience. Waking someone up and abandoning them to the naked truth, with no way forward, would be cruel. The first volume reveals the very essence of the farm you live on, laying bare the mechanisms of enslavement. Six levels of systemic failure, from the herd instinct to the false self: a specific algorithm for how externally imposed programs drown out the voice of one’s true nature. This knowledge alone is enough to plunge one into despair if one doesn’t move on in time. Therefore, the second volume of the book, "Sacrifice," follows. It’s about those who built this system, their goals, and the true scale of the game. Here, the focus shifts from individual fates to a level where the ritual is visible in its entirety. And the final volume, "Return," explores what is being "prepared" for us, who is capable of crossing the threshold, and how to escape this corral. Each volume is valuable on its own, but only together do they form a complete picture. I can’t leave you alone with just this introduction, any more than a surgeon has the right to cut someone open on the operating table and then walk away. So, as you turn the last page of this book, remember: the darkest night is just before dawn, the sun always shines behind the clouds, and the worst thing you can do is give up halfway. Light will inevitably emerge. At this point, I cease being the author and become the guide. This text will lead you layer by layer, down to the foundation upon which the entire structure rests. Don’t take my word for it — faith is superfluous here. Test each statement personally: on yourself, your life, and those around you. All I ask is a little of your attention. Welcome to the farm. Try not to fall asleep.

Veronika Krav

Introduction

"The awake have one common world, but the sleeping turn away each into his own".

Heraclitus

Right now, I’m driven by an irresistible urge to begin this introduction with something I can test personally. I propose a simple experiment that’s available right now, without any investment or preparation. Take any belief, habit, or stock phrase, "I always do this," or "I’m absolutely certain of this," and then ask yourself one single question: where did this come from? Don’t look for excuses like "why do I believe this?" Replace the question "why" with "where from". Try to pinpoint a time period, recall the specific day, who said this statement, and under what circumstances, that first made you accept a false self-image. Immerse yourself in this memory. It’s possible that your body will shudder at the obvious fact, and you’ll have another insight: that almost everything that shaped you today is the result of externally downloaded programs. Those around you imbued you with information baggage as a child, long before you learned to say "no". And what an individual has accepted without personal choice can hardly be called their own decision. This tremor marks the beginning of epiphany, and this book as a whole. Its main thesis, carried through six chapters, is, on the one hand, brutally simple, on the other, fundamentally unpleasant: humans have ceased to be the authors of their own destiny. They have become, ultimately, an executable program, written, then launched, and regularly updated. But the illusion of agency — the naive "I decided so myself" — is built into the program as its basic, supporting function. The controlled biological object firmly believes in its independence, and this fact causes the manager absolutely no trouble. Higher power today dispenses with chains and overseers; therein lies the art of modern management. Shackles inspire rage, and people rebel against them. A well-written program, like a chameleon, camouflages itself among pop-up windows. The paradox is that people are even grateful for this invisible captivity. The harvest is the use of the finished product, closing the production cycle. The very existence of a harvest requires arable land, seeds, the hands of a sower, and the farmer, for whose enrichment this grueling labor is undertaken. Look at human life through this prism, and you will see an accurate description of the world in which you live, in all its stages.

It all begins with sowing. In early childhood, while the mental soil is soft and readily accepts any seed, basic programs are implanted in a person: what is good and what is bad, who is one of us and who is not, what to desire and what to be ashamed of. Then comes the time for germination and selection. The younger generation is forced through the filters of school and the system, mercilessly rejecting anything that doesn’t fit the system’s framework — anything original and vibrant. The entire selection process is subordinated to one goal: to form a safe mass incapable of free thinking and, consequently, the expression of personal opinion. Then comes the feeding: the adult is fed a strictly prescribed diet of news, advertising, entertainment, and chemicals. The goal is to guide growth in a given direction and ensure that no one exceeds the established limit. After this, the subject’s long milking begins: day after day, resources are squeezed out of them: attention, energy, and money — in exchange for the illusion that they are spending them on themselves. In due course, everything accumulated over life goes upward, into someone else’s bins, then the dried straw is disposed of from the field, making way for a new crop. Throughout these stages, the ear of corn is convinced that its growth is the result of free will. This unwavering, blind faith is the essence and perfection of the Harvest. A slave who understands his situation is dangerous, and sooner or later will rebel. One who believes he is a free farmer on his own land is safe, grateful, and productive for the rest of his days.

Here you have the right to interrupt me. What is this, you ask, a conspiracy theory? Are dark figures in robes sitting somewhere in a bunker, pulling your strings personally, one by one? No. Unfortunately, it’s much worse. A conspiracy can be uncovered, the guilty punished, and then we can breathe a sigh of relief. There’s essentially nothing to expose here: the mechanism works perfectly well without secret agreements or a handful of obvious villains. Everything described has long been obvious, demonstrated through films, books, open patents, and publications. But all this material is often presented as phantasmagoria or conspiracy theories. Shown, swallowed, means agreed. The system constitutes an autonomous, self-reproducing mechanism in which almost no one sees the whole picture. Most of those who turn its gears are themselves doomed to rotate on strictly defined axes, sincerely believing that they bring good and light to people. A teacher who instills a program of obedience in a child is not a villain — he himself was trained in exactly the same way as a child. A journalist churning out morning content to fuel mass psychosis is also not a member of a secret lodge; he himself is deeply intoxicated by this anxiety and simmers within it around the clock. Maintaining this structure doesn’t require a single malicious intent. It’s enough that each resident blindly plays their small role, oblivious to the larger picture, and the sum of their efforts gives birth to something that none of them individually intended. There’s no one to blame here, by and large. But understanding is essential. This book wasn’t written to gather a torch-wielding crowd to find the guilty. This text is a step-by-step analysis of an algorithm with a vast historical background, shaped by trial and error, like any craft. You know its previous versions from textbooks: classic slavery, serfdom, the convoy, and the whip. All of them proved ineffective — when a prisoner sees his shackles, he’s sooner or later able to break them. Rebellion always leads to losses and troubles.

Each subsequent system update became more sophisticated than the previous one, until those very shackles had migrated from the wrists and ankles to the very head, where they were no longer visible and there was essentially nothing to tear. The current farm is far from the first, or even the second, attempt. It is a centuries-old, nearly flawless version, in which an overseer with a whip is simply unnecessary. Each person voluntarily accepted the role of a guard, becoming a vigilant guardian of their own cage. Who and how perfected this machine, and why this architect can wait for centuries without fussing, is detailed in the second volume. Accept it as a fact: this is a structure honed over millennia. To treat it as a random glitch is to lose without even entering the game. This structure has depth, layers, and functions on several levels simultaneously. That is why it is so difficult to notice and so easy to dismiss. Discover one detail — it’ll be called a coincidence. Two — it’ll be written off as hallucination. The average person can’t grasp six levels in their head, and therein lies their vulnerability: the mechanism’s strength lies in its synchronicity, when the layers simultaneously support each other. Therefore, I will lead you through the floors from top to bottom, from the most visible to the hidden. Follow this path to the end, without hasty belief or denial. You will judge on the last page.

The first floor is the herd. How millions of unique people, each with their own destiny and personal pain, are shaped into a single, obedient mass, wandering the streets like a flock on a mountainside. And why this crowd wholeheartedly accepts the imposed route as their own free choice. The second floor is attention. How your most precious and irreplaceable resource, more valuable than oil and gold, is brazenly taken from you and distilled into energy that powers someone else’s structure, while you firmly believe you’re simply relaxing, scrolling through Instagram or TikTok before bed. The third floor is fear. How, through wave action, frequencies, sound, and light, a person is pumped with background anxiety, keeping them in constant defense mode and leaving them with no strength to raise their head and look around. The fourth floor is biochemistry. An analysis of how what you eat, drink, and inhale every day introduces substances into your bloodstream that directly affect your state, mood, and willpower, turning you into a lifelong client of pharmaceutical giants selling remedies for the ailments they themselves create. The fifth floor is language, where linguistic coding occurs. How, with a single substituted word, the boundaries of what is permissible are written within you in such a way that entire areas of knowledge are erased, making them physically inaccessible, while you are unaware of their existence and that you are not authorized to access them. And the sixth floor, the foundation of the entire structure, is the false self. That very model, formed from other people’s programs, which you have been accustomed to calling yourself since birth, and which the system pulls like convenient levers, precisely because it has nothing to cling to in you that is real and alive.

To make sure this doesn’t remain empty demagoguery, live a weekday with me and see how all six floors work simultaneously, giving you not a moment’s peace. The alarm clock abruptly jolts you awake, and your body’s first reaction, even before your eyes open, is to reach for your phone. The feed is already milking your attention while you lie motionless in bed. Along the way, you merge with the general flow of people hurrying step by step, automatically taking on the form of a herd. Disturbing news is broadcast nonstop from headphones and smartphones: disasters, wars, terrorist attacks, and market declines. "Be on guard" is repeated from everywhere, and your body goes into a state of permanent biological stress. At lunch, you load yourself with fuel that is guaranteed to correct your state by evening, finally severing cause and effect. And more than that, you operate with other people’s words, whose meaning has long been replaced, and therefore cannot properly name what you yourself feel. And underneath it all, from morning until night, that same "I" spins reliably — a set of alien programs, pulled by strings all day by advertising, the boss, social media, and family. And obediently delivers the ordered reactions, sincerely believing them to be its own. Here are six rails along which you are enthusiastically rolled from reveille to lights out. And not once during the entire day have you doubted that you are in control of the train and heading where you want. Welcome to the farm! No reptilians or mysticism. And not a single overseer around.

All six floors, as you’ll see by the end of the book, have one thing in common: substitution. A fake is systematically planted everywhere in the place of the real thing. It completely replicates the original image, and through this substitution, all resources are drained from the host. This is the conclusion of the last chapter, and I won’t get ahead of myself, so as not to deprive you of the pleasure of reaching it yourself. I’ll just say that the substitution, once uncovered in one layer, automatically becomes recognizable in all the others. This recognition is your main hope and your only weapon. But first, you need to avoid two mental traps that most newcomers fall into. The first is paranoia and conspiracy theories: all is lost, the world is ruled by reptiles, Masons, bunker stories, there is no escape, all that’s left is to hide in corners and wait for the end. Fear is an excellent systemic fuse. Paralyzed by it, the individual automatically huddles with the herd, trying to find the illusion of safety — doing exactly what was expected of him. The second dead end is the opposite and no less marketable — toxic positivism: don’t think about the bad, vibrate high, the universe is love, and whoever sees a problem either attracts it or is simply paranoid. This dead end is more dangerous than the first: it tells you to close your eyes to the fire and smile falsely. And while the corners of your lips are taut, you are being calmly reaped. The truth, as it should be, lies precisely in the middle, on the narrow path. The point is to see the mechanism clearly, without panic or rosy intoxication, and calmly do your job. The awakening we’re talking about here can’t be called a flash of blissful light or a soaring above the bustle. It is a sober, unclouded view of what is, and a willingness to work with it. Less poetry, more clarity. To wake up is simply to stop sleeping. But this "mere" turns your entire life upside down.

Why is this book being published now? We live at a turning point in time, the juncture of great historical cycles, when the old world is collapsing with a crash, and the new reality has not yet arrived. During such rare intervals, the false no longer has anything to cling to and collapses on its own, revealing what has been hidden for centuries. Previously, such shifts occurred once a millennium, and entire generations lived out their lives without experiencing anything. We were born at the completion of both major and minor programs — a topic I explored in detail in my book, "Transition: A Chronicle of a New Time". This phase brings colossal stress, but also a rare opportunity; it is during such periods that all that is hidden becomes clear to those willing not just to look, but to see. This book is an attempt to take advantage of the gap while it remains ajar. After all, the floodgates will soon close.

Since we’re talking about stakes, without them, it’s unclear why this game was even created. Of all the living things on this Earth, only our species is capable of something beyond desire; it’s capable of dreaming, believing in its own vision of the future, and setting goals beyond mere survival. Only we possess that divine spark of intelligence, for which, in essence, everything was conceived. Humans were conceived as co-workers — those capable of consciously participating in the structure of the world, not as spineless ears of corn in someone else’s field. The entire mechanics of the harvest are essentially designed to intercept this power: to steal our greatest gift and turn the co-creator into obedient raw material. The system reset is so critical because, at the moment of reset, you will be asked in all seriousness: has the consciousness of the species awakened or has it slept through its allotted time? Has humanity truly emerged as a sentient being or has it been decimated like a failed crop? This is the real scale of what we’ll be discussing next, and each of us, whether we want to or not, is obligated to take the exam in person. The book you’ve opened is your cheat sheet, helping you get to the heart of the matter instead of blindly copying prepared answers.

Before we descend, let’s agree on the rules of perception. This will determine whether the book will remain a forgotten piece of information by morning, or whether it will do for you what it was written for. Read every sentence thoughtfully. You can’t just "swallow" it in an evening, just ticking off a box and moving on to the next one. Stop after each statement and test your hypotheses on yourself: is this true in your life? The only tool that transforms what you read into insight is that very attention for which the world is waging a massive war. And right now, as you read this, you are deciding who to give it to: social media, which milks you, or the lines that are trying to awaken you.

Our journey begins. I suggest we go down to the first floor, where living people are turned into cattle.

Chapter I. Philosophy of the Crowd

"You ask what should be avoided most of all? Crowds".

Seneca (Letter VII)

Imagine rush hour in any major city in the world. Millions of people dressed in nearly identical clothes, all within a narrow range of colors. The current season’s crowd emerges from the metro and follows one another in unison. The topics of their conversation are born from the agenda that has been broadcast on the news feeds since the morning. Their emotional reactions are also strikingly synchronized, with identical waves of indignation, anxiety, and, occasionally, brief bursts of inspiration. They respond to common stimuli like thousands of tuning forks tuned to the same frequency. At such moments, people, each with their own biography, fate, and character, sound like a well-coordinated instrument. At the same time, each of them sincerely believes that they are acting of their own free will. This is the victory of the system: those controlled sincerely believe that they are free. This phenomenon is called synchronization, and it is ubiquitous in nature. From the standpoint of energy conservation, everything is quite logical, because synchronized systems consume fewer resources. Physics also has a downside. If a number of precisely tuned oscillatory systems are placed in the same environment, then when an external signal appears, they, without even noticing, begin to adapt to it.

Let me give you an example from nature to make the synchronization device clear. Have you ever observed a flock of sheep in real life? I’m not talking about a documentary where the camera chose the right angle for you. I’m asking about "live" observation, when a hundred animals move as if they were a single organism? If you have, you’ve probably noticed one thing.

A remarkable feature. Not a single animal in the flock makes independent decisions… It’s enough for one sheep to change direction, and immediately a wave of the others begins moving in a similar direction. And not a single one of them stops to ask itself, "Should I go the other way?" Their nervous system reacts to the movements of their neighbors faster than individual perception can even kick in. This is a survival program formed and honed over millions of years of evolution. Sheep have poor eyesight, but they are highly sensitive to the movements of their neighbors. If the one standing next to me moves, it means they’ve noticed something I haven’t, and I must follow without asking unnecessary questions. There’s no time to think; the predator doesn’t wait. This, undoubtedly, is a profound natural blessing. And when you watch a flock moving along a mountainside in a single, flowing mass, it’s truly beautiful. Only humans, unlike animals, have a prefrontal cortex. Thanks to her, we can ask ourselves: "Do I really want to go where everyone else is going now?" This is the fine line separating humans from the rest of the living world, and it is to preserve it that this entire work was written.

Before moving on, it’s worth dwelling on one detail. First, we need to learn to distinguish between two different phenomena that may appear similar on the surface, but are fundamentally opposed. The first type of collective is made up of people united by a need to belong. Their synchronization is driven by an external stimulus — fear. This includes what’s widely broadcast in the media and dictated by fashion, and the presence of authority. A person within such a group reflexively responds to the movement of a neighbor. Should he run, everyone else will rush after him. This is a collective in which consciousness is dormant, and decisions are made for a person by a wave passing through their nervous system. I call this controlled mass a crowd. The second type of group is structured completely differently. Here, a team is formed. Imagine a medical team in an intensive care unit, each member knowing their role. Or a sports team, where interaction is dictated by a common goal that brings people together. Within this circle, everyone sees a common task, but no one loses their identity. In this case, synchronization is born from a collective vision, a common cause, the presence of meanings and ideas. The difference between the two systems depends on the processes occurring within each participant. The driving force of a crowd is shared fear. Within a team, a golden mean is formed, and everyone adds their contribution to the whole. The idea of the book you are holding in your hands is unification. That natural part of our existence, without which humans as a biological species would have long since ceased to exist. This work is, among other things, about inversion, that very substitution in which the image of "we" is used by the "farm" to achieve "dirty goals". We must understand how true conciliarity, cooperative work, and the family field — essentially everything that enables a person to grow and develop — have been replaced by a synthetic belonging within which a living being gives itself completely, receiving nothing in return except illusion. The ability to distinguish between these two forms is the task of everyone who reads this work.

Before we move on to the mechanics and the structure of crowd philosophy, let’s turn to a classic. On September 28, 1659, a man named Robinson Crusoe was washed ashore on an island, where he spent 28 years, 2 months, and 90 days of his life. He lived exactly 25 years in complete solitude, until he met Friday, with whom he remained on the island for another three years. Before this fateful encounter, he managed to build a goat pen out of poles. Defoe described this mechanics in just three pages of his novel.

On February 28, 1815, sailor Edmond Dantès was falsely accused and imprisoned in solitary confinement at the Château d’If, on an island in the Mediterranean. He was 19 years old at the time, and had spent 14 years in captivity. In his seventh year of confinement, he met an abbot, who spent nearly eight more years tutoring him. The abbot knew nine languages, mathematics, history, chemistry, and military affairs, and was well-versed in the politics of European courts. An illiterate cabin boy entered the cell, and 14 years later, a man emerged for whom the entire European social scene was a complete chess game. It was these years that turned the cabin boy into a Monte Cristo.

A young man of 23, a former student named Rodion Romanovich, in June 1865, in the sweltering St. Petersburg air, influenced by magazines he’d read and his own vanity, developed a certain theory. It divided people into two camps: the trembling creature and the entitled. And to test which category he belonged to, he took an axe and went to an old woman. He was an intelligent, well-read man, even kind in small ways. He wept over the drunkards on the street and gave his last money to Marmeladov’s widow. After which, seven years of hard labor in Siberia awaited him. In the long silence of hard labor, he realized for the first time that his entire theory, "having the right," for which he had hacked two women to death, was built on what he had been told by magazines, conversations in a tavern, and the very atmosphere of the capital, where certain thoughts floated in the air and settled in the heads of young people. They had no idea that these thoughts weren’t theirs at all. Dostoevsky spent three months on this epilogue and rewrote it four times. Raskolnikov explains nothing in it. He simply sits on the bank of a Siberian river and looks at the water. By chapter 28, the reader suddenly realizes that the previous 500 pages of the book, with two murdered women, a "schizophrenic" theory, and excruciating suffering, was a story about how a person is capable of committing murder, sincerely believing that it was his own thought…

Now imagine a scene from our time. You’re strolling through the park or dining in a restaurant. Notice the couples at the adjacent tables. They’re sitting next to each other, but each is looking at their own hands, at that same smartphone from which an endless feed of strangers and their stories pours. Between these seemingly loving couples lies a thousand light years. Now try to connect these four stories into a single whole. Robinson, Dantes, and Raskolnikov were cut off from their familiar surroundings, and this led to each of them coming to an epiphany. And then there’s our contemporary. He’s immersed in the environment to the very top of his head. He’s simply unable to see what the other three saw. He doesn’t even see the one sitting across from him…

This is the main theme, to which we will return more than once.

The ability to see clearly is potentially available to everyone. But its development is only possible if a person allows themselves to step outside their usual environment. Sometimes this happens through a catastrophe or a long journey. Sometimes, a single day in the woods without a phone is enough to bring profound insights. Other times, a serious illness can strike, leading to a complete reassessment of values. And only rarely does this conscious departure occur, through a week of silence and complete isolation from society. Whatever path you choose, sooner or later it opens "vision". Before we turn to neurobiology, experiments, and physics, answer honestly, which of these four categories do you fall into?

Let’s examine two key concepts — evolution and instinct — that will be frequently encountered here. It’s important to agree right away on the meaning I’ll be using them. These two concepts are worn beyond recognition. They’re used carelessly in everyday life and popular literature. Therefore, they must first be restored to their original meaning, otherwise everything else discussed in this book will be left hanging in the air. The word "evolution" is firmly attached to Darwinian theory. It creates the impression that humans descended from apes through random mutations and natural selection, and thus, over millions of years, gradually evolved into the creatures we are today. This hypothesis is presented as fact, yet Darwin himself, at the end of his life, admitted in letters that the vertebrate eye has a structure of such complexity that it cannot explain its origin by natural selection alone. The often-rumored "intermediate links" discovered were either hoaxes, as with Piltdown Man, or were interpreted based on the principle of "I see what I want to see". The prefrontal cortex appeared in humans immediately. In chimpanzees, supposedly our closest relatives, the frontal lobe is structured differently and does not perform the functions characteristic of humans. So where is the intermediate frontal lobe? It does not exist and never has, neither in fossil material nor among existing species. Humans received their appearance, speech, and conscience as a natural program. Who exactly programmed this program is another question. The Creator, the Supreme Intelligence, call it what you will. What is important is that the Darwinian hypothesis is not the only one. It has not been proven, and by no means the most plausible. At the same time, "evolution" itself means development, the transition from one form to another, more complex one. A child evolves in the womb over nine months. Intelligence, language, and an entire civilization develop. Wherever there is a timeline, there is evolution. And this word existed long before Darwin. When I talk about evolution, I mean its broad meaning, namely, the gradual maturation and formation. When I say that the prefrontal cortex is the latest part of the brain to develop, I mean that in a newborn child, it develops longer than other structures, and is fully formed only by age 25. Therefore, this area is the most vulnerable; it is the first to shut down under stress. This is a medical fact that does not depend on how sophisticated we try to explain human origins. In the biological sense, instinct is an innate program, initially hardwired into the subconscious. A hedgehog has an instinct to curl up, a spider to spin a web. Humans are also endowed with innate programs, and it would be a mistake to deny them. The most well-known of these is the "fight, flight, freeze" response, which is triggered by a real physical threat. If a loud sound suddenly sounds outside your window, your body will automatically shrink before your consciousness kicks in, and before you can even process what just happened. This is the expression of the basic instinct of self-preservation, and in humans, it works exactly the same way as in any other animal. There are other innate reactions, too, including the sucking reflex in newborns, the pulling of a hand away from a fire, the gag reflex, and so on. But a significant portion of the phenomena referred to in everyday life and popular literature as "instincts" are not actually related to them. The herd instinct, the instinct of belonging. The instinct for procreation in the area that concerns partner selection. The maternal instinct, and even what is called the instinct for self-preservation, when a person avoids social condemnation, loss of status, an unfamiliar country, or a new experience — these are simply programs. A person can overcome a true biological instinct only through a conscious effort of will in a situation of real danger. This is how a firefighter overcomes fear and enters a burning house, or a mother throws herself under the wheels of a speeding car for her child. But those programs that skillfully disguise themselves as instincts are structured differently; they can be turned off or completely rewritten. For example, a person can change the program "live like everyone else". And this is precisely the main goal of the entire book. You learn to discern where you are guided by instinct, which is capable of keeping you alive, and where a program operates that, on the contrary, prevents you from living. All manipulation of people is built precisely on these programs, on those very same imaginary "instincts," which are in fact learned behavior patterns. The whole trick of the system’s influence is to convince a person that their program is their instinct, and therefore cannot be changed. A person has a built-in program, thanks to which they became human, which distinguishes them from simply intelligent animals. This consists of the ability to see the structure behind events and distinguish truth from falsehood. Therefore, I want to turn to something that each of you possesses, and which, as paradoxical as it may sound, almost no one uses for its intended purpose. As you have probably already guessed, we will talk about the brain. It is a very specific, measurable organ weighing 1300–1400 grams, located inside your skull. And absolutely everything that makes control possible begins and ends right here, in a biological device that consumes 20 % of the body’s total energy while accounting for 2 % of its mass. So voracious, capricious, ingenious, and at the same time astonishingly easy to deceive — the brain. Its genius is more often directed toward survival than toward the search for truth. The human "receiver" contains about 100 billion neurons, and each of them is connected to millions of others through synaptic connections. The total number of such connections reaches about 100 trillion, which is more than the number of stars in our galaxy, the Milky Way. Such a colossal computing system, which any supercomputer would envy, is controlled by a handful of chemicals — neurotransmitters. These molecules are so simple that the formula for each of them can be written on an ordinary napkin. These include dopamine, serotonin, cortisol, oxytocin, adrenaline, and endorphins. Each of you possesses these six keys that unlock the door to understanding your own behavior. And whoever knows how to steer your brain in the right direction gains absolute power over you. It doesn’t matter whether you know them personally: your puppeteer might not even be a person, but a banal, dispassionate algorithm on a digital platform. The ratio of these molecules at any given moment determines everything you do, including the decisions you tend to consider "free."

Therefore, it makes sense to consider each of them separately. But we’re not so much interested in classical biology as in the principle itself: how knowledge of how neurotransmitters work can be used to control human behavior. Let’s start with the first substance, which in the literature is called the "happiness hormone," which is somewhat inaccurate. Dopamine is not directly associated with happiness. It is more accurately described as an anticipation molecule. It’s released when you anticipate a reward. Your attention lingers in this gap between expecting and receiving something specific, stretched like rubber between "want" and "have" — and this is where the entire management industry, from social media to advertising agencies, exploits. Robert Sapolsky once argued that dopamine is released exclusively during anticipation, and its level drops by the time the reward is received. The brain experiences excitement from the very desire. If the outcome is predictable, its response weakens. The brain becomes bored when it knows what will happen next. The maximum release occurs under conditions of uncertainty. For example, when you pick up something.

When you check your phone and notice a notification from a loved one, your brain experiences a surge of dopamine. A similar mechanism is triggered when you scroll through your social media feed, not yet knowing what the algorithm will show you next. The unpredictability of the potential reward arises, causing your brain to engage in a waiting game. Similarly, when you wait for a reply to a message from someone important to you. Until there’s a response, your brain remains in a state of anticipation, accompanied by further surges of dopamine. Each time it anticipates a potential reward, another dose of this neurotransmitter is released, and you experience a brief, yet tangible pleasure from the anticipation itself. Now think of a slot machine. You pull the lever and don’t know whether you’ll pull out the coveted prize. The very uncertainty and unpredictability of the outcome are what trigger the maximum dopamine response. In neuroscience, this mechanism is called "variable reinforcement," and it forms one of the most powerful addictions, often stronger than addiction to some drugs. With drugs, everything is quite predictable: the substance hits dopamine receptors and produces the expected effect. But when the reward is unpredictable, as with an endless social media feed, a neurochemical cycle of anticipation and reward is formed, which is extremely difficult for the brain to break without conscious effort. Now try applying this knowledge and looking at the world around you. Almost every social network, news portal, or streaming service is built on exploiting the dopamine system. Sean Parker, one of the founders of Facebook, put it bluntly in an interview.

Frankly: "We’ve been deliberately exploiting the vulnerability of human psychology. How can we maximize your time and attention? We need to give you a little dopamine — a like, a comment, a photo". Gradually, your brain becomes hooked on this digital drug. It’s completely free and available 24/7. Its dealers are the largest tech corporations on the planet, whose market capitalization exceeds the GDP of many countries.

If dopamine is the carrot, then cortisol is the stick in this concept. We know it as the stress hormone, released by the adrenal glands in situations the brain identifies as threatening. This system once served to preserve life… Imagine a person facing a predator, and cortisol is automatically released into the bloodstream. The body instantly mobilizes, muscles tense, attention sharpens, and the person runs. Today, there are no predators around us, and no one is chasing us, but the program itself continues to function flawlessly. Only now, cortisol is released in response to news headlines, political scandals, economic crises, comments from strangers online, and dozens of other stimuli, none of which pose an immediate physical threat to you. But the amygdala, an ancient brain structure responsible for recognizing danger, interprets such signals as a potential threat to survival. This is where a serious problem arises. Chronically elevated cortisol levels suppress the prefrontal cortex, the area of the brain responsible for critical thinking, planning, and decision-making. If a person is constantly in a state of permanent stress, and this debilitates the ability to think clearly. Their behavior becomes reflexive, and their entire life is structured according to the primitive formula: stimulus-response. Besides that, chronically elevated cortisol levels weaken the immune system. As a result, the body becomes more vulnerable to various diseases and viruses. That’s not the only cost. Prolonged stress has a destructive effect on the hippocampus, the brain structure responsible for memory and learning, and, as a result, neuroplasticity. A person living in a state of prolonged stress begins to degenerate over time. Now a question: If you had to rule billions of people, and you wanted them to remain obedient, not ask unnecessary questions, and, most importantly, to maintain the principle of divide and conquer, what would you do? You’d likely create a constant, low-level stress response 24/7 through an endless stream of negative news, political scandals, economic instability, information overload, and a litany of perceived and real threats. Current reality fits this pattern perfectly. While it’s certainly possible to chalk it all up to conspiracy theories, alas, a more prosaic mechanism is at work here: neurobiology combined with media strategies.

There’s another neurotransmitter that matters just as much, in my opinion, to the control system: oxytocin. It’s called the "love hormone" or the "bondage hormone". It’s released during physical contact, when a mother feeds her child, during orgasm, and when a person feels a sense of belonging to a specific group. Oxytocin is like glue that cements social bonds. At the same time, it is one of the most powerful tools of manipulation, as it provides a sense of "us" and "us". When a person feels a sense of belonging to a certain group, be it a political party, a religious community, a fan club, or an ethnic group, their brain activates the production of oxytocin. The experience of "us" is so pleasant and rewarding that a person is willing to go to great lengths to maintain it. The danger lies in the fact that at this moment, it is difficult to see the obvious. Critical thinking is suppressed, and the individual begins to hate "outsiders," especially since this hostility toward "them" strengthens the sense of "us". An effect similar to anosognosia immediately kicks in: the person loses the ability to analyze their own distortions, and any attempt to point them out from the outside is perceived as hostile interference. Dividing people by nationality, religion, race, political camp, and gender effectively exploits the oxytocin system, making the division biochemically attractive. A new dose of oxytocin is released every time you identify with "us" and contrast yourself with "them". It’s like a drug. This is why it’s so difficult to overcome prejudices, leave a cult, or get out of a toxic relationship. It’s not a lack of willpower or intelligence. At a deep level, the brain doesn’t want to lose its source of oxytocin reinforcement.

Now let’s put the whole puzzle together. Dopamine works like a leash. It keeps you glued to your phone screen, TV, and endless stream of content. Cortisol limits your ability to think freely. Oxytocin, in turn, strengthens attachment to the group. This elegant "molecular" algorithm operates automatically, without conscious participation. You don’t even need to agree with the system, much less obey it. Simply being in the information field it creates is enough, and your brain will take over the rest of the work. This is the genius of the algorithm. There’s no need for camps. You don’t even need to lie, although that, of course, is enough. It’s enough to simulate an environment that systematically exploits the basic neurochemical levers shaped by millions of years of evolution. And then a person, with an ever-present smile on their face, voluntarily transforms into a controlled unit, fiercely defending the illusion of their own freedom. Does a lamb realize it’s being led to the slaughter before it happens? No. Its cognitive system is programmed to trust the shepherd. In its worldview, he is the only guarantor of satiety and a source of security. He feeds, protects from wolves, and shows the way. A sheep can’t even entertain the idea that the shepherd is the main threat, because its brain is simply not designed for it. But your brain is designed for it, provided you know where to look.

In 1963, psychologist Stanley Milgram of Yale University conducted a legendary experiment that shocked the scientific world. He was motivated by the desire to prove how easy it is to turn ordinary people — teachers, engineers, postmen — into obedient instruments of violence when an authority figure stands nearby. To do this, he placed participants in a situation where a figure in a white coat commanded them to administer electric shocks to another person. The voltage increased with each incorrect answer, from a harmless 15 volts to a deadly 450. A fake actor played the "victim"; they screamed, begged for it to stop, and eventually fell silent, feigning unconsciousness or even death. The researcher was preoccupied with one single question: how many people would complete the experiment? Milgram expected a maximum of one to two percent. Scientists, psychiatrists, and students were confident that most would drop out long before reaching a critical level. As a result, 65 % of the participants reached their maximum, while two-thirds of ordinary, normal, "good" people delivered a potentially fatal blow to another person simply because a man in a white coat ordered it. This test has been repeated dozens of times in different countries, and the results have always been roughly the same. Submission to authority is difficult to reduce to a cultural trait — it’s a neurobiological program hardwired into the unconscious. Overcoming it is only possible through conscious, informed, and energy-consuming effort — an action that most people are simply incapable of. The reason is that the prefrontal cortex is the only brain structure capable of such effort, and chronically elevated cortisol levels, as we’ve discovered, lead to its suppression. Do you see how elegantly this system works? Stress deprives you of the ability to think clearly, which is why it’s so difficult to recognize that you’re stressed. You’re too exhausted to recognize the cause of your exhaustion. Without this awareness, you’re unable to address the source. As a result, the cycle closes and you become an eternal runner within a self-sustaining system.

That decade, Solomon Asch conducted an equally revealing experiment, vividly demonstrating how easily groups destroy individuality. A group of people were shown three lines of varying lengths and asked to identify which one matched the reference line. The task was essentially trivial, as the difference was obvious to the naked eye. All participants except one were fake and intentionally gave the wrong answer. The main question was: what would the real participant do? Tell the truth or follow the group’s lead? In the end, 75 % of the participants at least once agreed with the obviously false majority opinion, and three-quarters of the people called the long line short because others said so. The oxytocin mechanism was at work, and the desire for "us" proved stronger than what they had observed firsthand. If a person denies sensory experience, the very length of a line they see with their own eyes, just to maintain their group affiliation and avoid being an outcast, then what lengths will they go to when it comes to less obvious matters? How easy is it to manipulate consciousness in matters of politics, religion, or "science and…"? Where it is determined what can and cannot be said, what is considered normal and what is insane? They will do anything. That’s how software works. Thousands of generations of ancestors survived thanks to their group affiliation, reinforcing the ancient program "be consistent, otherwise you will perish". This archaic programming controls us to this day, despite the fact that the conditions themselves have long since changed.

In 1971, Philip Zimbardo conducted the famous Stanford Prison Experiment. The subjects were 24 mentally healthy, well-adjusted students. They were randomly divided into "prisoners" and "guards" in a simulated prison set up in the university basement. The experiment was designed to last two weeks, but it had to be stopped after only six days. During this time, the "guards" became sophisticated sadists, humiliating the prisoners, depriving them of sleep, and forcing them to follow senseless orders. The "prisoners" quickly broke down, accepted the role of victims, and some began to denounce each other. Six days proved more than enough time for the civilized person to "disappear," giving way to a slave and a tyrant. And crucially, no one systematically brainwashed them or administered any chemicals. It was enough to create the environment, and the brain did the rest of the "dirty" work. Remember that word — "environment". This is the foundation on which absolutely everything rests. The information environment, biochemical, social, or, if you prefer, frequency. You live within it, and every element of it is designed so that your brain operates bypassing consciousness and serves the interests of those who created this environment.

Milgram, Asch, and Zimbardo laid bare the mechanics of our behavioral responses. Yet, there’s still no clear answer to the question of why all this is possible at a deep level, where vulnerability itself comes from. And yet, to find it, we must descend into the "holy of holies" of biology — genetics. Our DNA contains 64 codons. Each represents a trio of nucleotides encoding a specific amino acid. But if we go beyond dry academicism, trust our research intuition, and take a broader look at these 64 units of information, we’ll see something hidden beneath the iceberg. A constant permeating space and time unfolds before us. The number 64 manifests itself in a wide variety of systems: the number of hexagrams in the I Ching, the number of squares on a chessboard, and the number of arcana in a full Tarot deck. This includes the list of 64 arts in the Vedic tradition, which an educated woman was expected to master. To this can be added the 64 forms of Shiva-Bhairava in Tantric cosmology and the 64 cells in the Rho matrix, which the priests of Ancient Egypt used to describe the structure of creation. This universal numerical matrix is repeated in various cultural and symbolic systems from China to Egypt, directly indicating the existence of a single fundamental principle.

According to a number of alternative theories, of the 64 codons in the average person, only eighteen to twenty are active, barely a third of the entire genetic repertoire. Accordingly, we operate at a limited fraction of our genetic potential. Meanwhile, the remaining codons, ascribed so-called "superpowers," which was the norm for our ancestors, are in a state of "suspended animation". For them, this manifested itself in advanced field functions — directly reading information from the energy-information fields of Midgard-Earth, the very same "Salt of Knowledge" library. They also had access to regeneration and expanded perception. And what, by the standards of the Universe, was active relatively recently, is today blocked. Before you ask, by whom blocked? Surely, the image of "evolution" will come to mind. But judge for yourself: if evolution truly eliminated everything unnecessary, such sequences would not have been preserved in the genome. But they are there. So, the cause isn’t the disappearance, but rather the inactive potential. This logic is reminiscent of a program installed on a computer, only it’s locked with a password the user doesn’t have.

Pyotr Petrovich Gariaev, the founder of wave genetics, has empirically confirmed over the years that DNA responds to frequency influences. This isn’t just about chemistry. It responds to frequency, sound, and electromagnetic fields. DNA is an antenna that operates within a range of frequencies. And if this is true, who and what receives the signal on it, and who jams it? I understand how outlandish all this sounds to someone with a classical academic education. "Blocked codons". "DNA is an antenna". "Frequency control". To the general public, these phrases are empty words. They’ll immediately call you a pseudoscientist and drop the subject. I know this, and I’m prepared for it. But then answer me a counter-question: if science objectively described reality, why did the Nobel laureates of the 20th century — those who stood at the very origins of quantum mechanics — come to conclusions that completely contradict what is currently taught in schools? Niels Bohr said, "Everything we call real consists of things that are not real". Werner Heisenberg: "The first sip from the glass of natural science makes an atheist, but at the bottom of the glass God awaits". Max Planck: "Matter as such does not exist. Everything comes into being and exists thanks to a force that sets the particles of an atom into vibration". These people were not mystics; they were physicists. And they came to the same conclusion that those we call the "ancients" came to thousands of years ago. Reality is an information field. Matter is frozen energy, or, if you prefer, light, vibrating at a specific frequency. When you understand this with every cell of your body, your entire picture of the world is turned upside down. Managing billions of people has long gone beyond armies, police, or money — today, everything is decided by the frequency range of consciousness. Whoever controls the frequency of fear controls behavior. And fear is the system’s primary tool.

Let’s return to the brain, because it is in this roughly one-and-a-half-kilogram "processor" that the main battle of modern times is unfolding. The real battle doesn’t take place on battlefields, parliaments, or stock exchanges. It begins in your head. The brain is roughly divided into three evolutionary components. The first is the reptilian brain, the most ancient and responsible for basic survival functions: breathing, heartbeat, and the "fight, flight, or freeze" response. It operates automatically and is almost completely unresponsive to consciousness. It is virtually deaf to the voice of reason. The second is the limbic system, the "mammalian brain". This is where emotions, memory, attachment, and social behavior reside. This area also plays host to dopamine, cortisol, and oxytocin pathways, including the mechanisms of herd behavior. The third is the neocortex, and its crowning glory is the prefrontal cortex. This is what makes us human: abstract thinking, planning, moral judgment, and the ability to ask "why?" without settling for ready-made answers. But the key point is that there is a strict hierarchy between these three levels, and it doesn’t favor intelligence. The neocortex is the youngest, the last to appear evolutionarily, and it requires the greatest amount of energy; it’s the most expensive "department". When these resources are limited, and under chronic stress they are always in short supply, the brain shuts it down. From a survival perspective, the neocortex is a true luxury. The reptilian brain and limbic system are prioritized because they provide security and social belonging. But what about the ability to think critically? This function is simply not designed for survival. It’s needed for development, and that’s the last thing the system needs. That’s why every element of the current information environment hits the two lower levels of the psyche. News attacks the reptilian brain, broadcasting threats, dangers, and disasters. Social media exploits the limbic system, manipulating emotions, the desire for approval, and connection. And the neocortex? It’s simply fed entertainment. Instead of development, a far more utilitarian goal is being achieved: to occupy a person with anything, just to prevent them from reaching their primary purpose — conscious thinking. A person with a suppressed prefrontal cortex doesn’t ask questions. They respond to stimuli like Pavlov’s dog to the sound of a bell: the ringing triggers profuse salivation. News headlines generate fear, a like offers a substitute for happiness and pleasure, and a scandal invariably ignites indignation and anger. The algorithm runs automatically, bypassing consciousness. This is how a herd is formed. This neurobiological reality transforms humanity into something other than just a society. It is a collection of organisms whose nervous systems are synchronized by a shared information environment and driven by the same neurochemical triggers. In this concept, a sheep is not at all more stupid than a human, its only advantage is honesty; at least it does not pretend to be free.

It’s not even the fact that people are so easy to control that worries me; I’ve long since come to terms with that. What torments me is something else: why do they defend their lack of freedom with such rage? Why does a person shown the mechanics of their subjugation attack in response? Why does information that promises liberation evoke aggression instead of curiosity? The root of the problem is "cognitive dissonance". When information contradicts a familiar worldview, the brain interprets it as a physical threat. The amygdala activates, followed by a surge of cortisol, after which the body goes into either fight-or-flight mode. A person literally begins to fight information as if it were a predator. This is why scientists whose discoveries conflict with the dominant paradigm are often persecuted and effectively eliminated. Why are people who talk about the mechanisms of the system so easily labeled "conspiracy theorists" and "crazy?" Even a best friend might view you as an enemy if you attempt to encroach on their comfortable illusion. Their brain is protective of its worldview, and they’re willing to sacrifice friendship to preserve it. It’s not that they’re bad; that’s just how their nervous system is programmed…

And now for the most difficult question of the chapter. If the brain is so rigidly programmed for submission, herd behavior, and the protection of illusions, where do those who are actually capable of seeing the truth come from? Where do you come from? Over ten years of working with people in transformational programs and personal mentoring, I have identified a pattern. People who begin to "see" have overwhelmingly experienced a powerful existential shock: clinical death, loss of loved ones, serious illness, or the complete collapse of their "former" life. It feels as if something must crumble for a ray of light to emerge. My life is no exception. I spent 12 hours in a coma, not to mention the numerous moments when I found myself on the very brink of life and death. And each time, another illusion was destroyed, revealing what had previously remained inaccessible. It’s like a blow to the shell. You’ll only reach the core when you break it; you have no other option. From a neurobiological perspective, everything is explainable. Extreme stress (not chronic), specifically acute stress, brings the system to peak performance and "breaks through" neural barriers — normally dormant brain areas are activated, and new neural connections are formed that didn’t exist before. It’s like a security system malfunction, as if it were temporarily disabled, and a flood of information, which normally passes through a filter system, pours through the breach. But this is a path through pain. It’s unpredictable and dangerous; some break down on it, others lose their inner support and descend into madness. That’s why I’m writing this book, to show another path — through knowledge and understanding of the mechanism. Through conscious, consistent "reprogramming" of the nervous system with information. It’s impossible to manipulate someone who understands the mechanism itself. Just as a magician is powerless to deceive someone who knows the secret of his trick. Knowledge is the only asset that can’t be blocked, confiscated, or frozen in a bank account. It’s within you. And when it becomes part of your being, no system can lead you astray with falsehood and lies. However, knowledge alone doesn’t solve anything. It can lie in your head for years, like an unopened book on a shelf. Knowledge becomes power when, and only when, it meets what we spend day after day, our entire life allotted to us on Midgard-Earth — our attention. What we look at inevitably changes us. Attention is what shapes your entire life. We’ve forgotten how to see its value because it’s given to us as a gift from birth, and it seems infinitely abundant. As if it could be given away to anyone, left and right. But that’s not true. Attention is a currency, just like any other, and its supply is finite. Every morning, you’re given a loan that will be exhausted by evening, no matter what. How you invest this resource determines your next day. What you spend your attention on for years becomes your destiny. It’s this currency that’s at war in our world. A second of your waking life is worth more than oil, gas, and gold. How to survive this war and reclaim your self-control — in the next chapter.

Chapter II. Attention Farm

"My experience is what I agreed to pay attention to".

William James

Attempts to understand current realities repeatedly come up against one strange fact, stubbornly ignored by a significant portion of cultural criticism. Despite its obviousness, it has become a phenomenon "too banal" to be subjected to serious analysis. The most sophisticated wonders of civilization that we use on a daily basis — mail, search engines, digital maps, instant messengers, video hosting services, translators, cloud storage, and navigation systems — come into our hands for free. Behind each of these services lie billions of man-hours, legions of engineers, and tens of billions of dollars. This is presented in the same way that a clerk in a run-down provincial town would heap a pound of salt and casually toss a box of matches onto the counter: "A present, sir, for your trouble". That insignificant gesture, by default part of the transaction. The very essence of this situation is striking in its unnaturalness. Have mercy, because capital, by its very nature, lacks organs responsible for compassion. Its icy core has no room for selflessness — this creature has no such program. Its charter, legal nature, obligations to shareholders, and, finally, its incentive structure are designed so that any activity must be predictable and convertible into growing profits. The system’s DNA excludes altruism. When such a structure contains a product that is given away "for nothing," don’t delude yourself. You don’t think the company has suddenly shown charity or found a way to subsidize one area at the expense of another. This indicates that it receives compensation in some other way, hidden from the consumer’s view. The beneficiary covers the colossal costs associated with development and provides shareholders with a capitalization of trillions of dollars. You are carefully "watered" with streams of information and fertilized with comfort, patiently waiting for your life and mind to fill with juice. After all, the main dish at this feast is you.

And here the chapter’s central question arises: how does one pay when one technically pays nothing? In Silicon Valley, they love to regale us with the old adage: "If you don’t pay for the product, then you are the product". This formulation sounds sobering, which is probably why it’s so beloved by experts in digital ethics. But if we "tighten the focus screw," we’ll see nothing more than a half-truth… And it’s more dangerous than a lie. A lie breeds resistance, falsehood lulls vigilance, and absolute truth leads to a deep analysis of its content and the emergence of true clarity.

Something more radical than simple human trafficking is happening. A user of so-called "free services" is not a product in the literal sense of the word. A product is something finished, packaged, and ready for sale. Humans in this food chain are relegated to the role of raw material. You are the primary biomaterial from which algorithmic factories distill the final concentrate, then put your behavioral profile up for sale. A statistical model predicts which notification will make your finger tremble, and at what hour your fatigue will peak, when your will will crack and become susceptible to any suggestible nonsense — from unnecessary goods to political poison. This prediction is what is being traded. It is the price for the opportunity to seize your will before you have a chance to use it. This raw material is far from our usual notions of resources — it is not timber, oil, coal, or rare earth metals. We’re talking about attention, that invisible, ethereal force that humans possess from birth and have historically managed as private property. The current economic system has transformed it into a previously unimaginable resource. And to objectively assess the scale of this sabotage, it’s worth examining the properties of this asset in detail.

Every raw material known to previous generations possessed at least one of two opposing properties: either it was visible to its owner or protected by law. Land is a visible resource. Those who live on it are generally aware that it can be taken from them. Oil, in contrast, is hidden from view, yet protected by concession rights purchased from the state for exorbitant prices. Labor power is another type of resource. It possesses several protective properties: it is visible to its bearer and is regulated by labor laws. When excessive pressure is exerted on it, it leads to collective resistance, resulting in strikes and demonstrations. Attention, on the other hand, is a potential, completely devoid of any defense mechanisms. Unlike a wallet or house keys, a person does not perceive it as something separate from themselves. Nor is it protected by any law; no legislation in the world provides us with a proprietary right to attention. This makes it an especially valuable asset for the extractive side. This resource is replenished at source completely free of charge, requiring no costs from the extractor. The industry does not need to spend money on geological exploration or sue trade unions. It can extract only as much as its algorithms can process, without incurring any costs for the reproduction of the raw material base. We are faced with an economic structure without parallel in the annals of history. This is the first machine whose fuel is unaware of its existence, and therefore offers no resistance. The trillion-dollar leviathans that so captivate our imagination love to throw smoke and mirrors, talking about "magic and innovation" or "brand power". But their monstrous capitalization expresses a concrete financial measure of the complete lack of resistance from the raw material. No other explanation is essentially required here. In such a system, humans are reduced to the status of an oil reservoir, with only one crucial difference: a reservoir is incapable of thinking, speaking, and choosing. We are. Therefore, our situation, despite all the structural similarities, remains reversible. The only question is, will we have the fortitude to acknowledge our role in this spectacle? Each person has the chance to see where they truly stand and decide whether to remain a silent resource or reclaim the right to control their own lives.

Before we uncover the extraction mechanism, it’s crucial to make one critical digression. Otherwise, we’re guaranteed to be sucked into the insipid swamp of "digital hygiene," with podcasts on "mindful content consumption" and advice not to touch your phone for the first half hour after waking. Such informational materials, however well-intentioned, operate at the level of consequences. It’s like trying to treat gangrene with poultices without understanding its etiology. Essentially, users are being asked to change their habits without any clear explanation of what exactly defines them and why any attempt to restructure them encounters resistance that can’t be reduced to a simple lack of "willpower". To break this pattern and escape the stereotypical thinking, we need to make one assertion. Everything we’re being fed today is a set of distortions borrowed from pedagogy and fitness manuals. We’ve been systematically taught that attention is concentration, discipline, and a muscle that needs to be exercised. This view is fundamentally flawed. From our school days, we remember the scene where the teacher bangs a pointer on the board and demands that we "pay attention". Such a call is delivered in a helpless tone, conveying dogma unconsidered by the speaker. This entire army of coaches selling online concentration courses, psychologists with their "exercises," and meditation app developers are simply scratching the surface of this phenomenon. They sell you a cheap veneer instead of real work on attention. Or they suggest training this skill like brushing your teeth or tying your shoelaces. For them, it’s nothing more than a cultural superstructure. And they ignore the physical nature of attention, in which it reveals itself as a force of an entirely different order.

Attention is a measurable physical quantity capable of altering the behavior of matter at the level of elementary particles. Consequently, it can transform the reality in which its owner exists. To some, this statement may sound like an esoteric exaggeration. But if we break it down into its component parts, we obtain a description of the experimentally established facts that quantum physics has accumulated over the past 120 years. Until now, these facts have largely remained outside the public eye due to their excessive ideological burden. Taking the scientists’ conclusions seriously would require a complete overhaul of the worldview that Western civilization has carefully constructed over the past three hundred years. For these reasons, mainstream academics prefer to discuss the obtained results within the technical details of quantum mechanics. They reach the limit beyond which lies true meaning, capable of changing the life of a specific individual. The scientific community has erected a barrier of formulas where physics crosses into metaphysics, fearing that open data will turn into someone’s personal power.

In 1801, the English naturalist Thomas Young conducted an experiment that was intended to settle the centuries-old debate about the nature of light between the followers of Huygens and Newton. The experiment involved passing a beam of light through two narrow slits in an opaque screen to record the pattern of transmitted radiation on the back surface. If light, as Newton claimed, consisted of material particles, only two bands would form on the wall, corresponding to the two slits. Instead, Young saw alternating light and dark lines. This pattern is characteristic of interference — a phenomenon in which two wave systems superimpose, strengthening at some points and canceling out at others. It seemed that this experiment finally settled the controversy in favor of the wave nature of light, and throughout the 19th century, this explanation remained the accepted dogma. The true revolutionary nature of Young’s experiment was established much later. A century later, it was repeated at a new technological level, under conditions that allowed photons to be passed individually. Pauses were made between their flights, completely eliminating collisions and mutual influence of the quanta. By all classical concepts, a single particle should have passed through only one of the two slits and left a point-like trace on the screen. Thousands of such impacts should have obediently formed two stripes. But the unthinkable happened. As the marks accumulated, the pattern on the screen formed an interference pattern that only occurs when waves overlap. The conclusion was astonishing: each individual photon, sent on a solo journey, somehow passed through both slits simultaneously. It split, interfered with itself, and reassembled behind the screen. But as soon as the experimenters installed detectors recording which hole the particle was traveling through, the "quantum magic" instantly disappeared, leaving two banal stripes on the wall. The photon seemed to "remember" that it was a particle and began to behave like an obedient corpuscle, choosing only one slit and leaving a clear trace on the screen. But as soon as the sensors were switched off, everything returned to normal: matter once again exhibited wave properties. The very act of observing and registering a subatomic event radically changed the nature of what was happening. In the following decades, the experiment was repeated many times and became more complex in hundreds of laboratories around the world. It was conducted with photons, electrons, atoms, and complex organic molecules composed of hundreds and thousands of elements and comparable in mass to small viruses. The result was always the same. In the absence of observation, matter behaved like a cloud of probabilities, identical to a wave distribution of possible states. But as soon as a measurement began, it instantly collapsed into a single, strictly localized object. All of quantum mechanics is built around this paradox. But, like any fundamental theory, it hits a wall, forcing scientists to search in vain for an answer: why does observation have such a radical effect? There is no answer and, apparently, there cannot be one, because this mystery lies far beyond its sovereign borders.

The worldview we inherited from the classical European tradition has long since become the backdrop to the self-evident. It is based on the dogma that the world exists in itself, and the observer records reality with indifference. According to the logic of this model, the world is objective and completely cut off from the observer. The observer merely takes readings, like a thermometer that records the air temperature without influencing it. This model is too convenient to abandon. It erected a barrier between subject and object, knower and known, and, ultimately, between humanity and nature. This division firmly underpins the foundation of academic science for the last four centuries. But quantum mechanics, for all the delicacy of its formulations, radically overturns this familiar picture. Observation is creation. The subject’s attention directed at matter collapses its wave function and transforms a multitude of possible states into a single realized one. From an infinite number of vectors, you choose the one that will become your reality. The remaining options do not disappear, they remain unmanifested, maintaining a patient wait in the field of pure potential.

An even more radical version of this experiment was proposed in 1978 by John Archibald Wheeler, a student of Bohr and teacher of Feynman. He belonged to that constellation of 20th-century physicists whose boldness of thought cannot be appreciated without the meticulous caution of their formulations. Wheeler posed the question of what would happen if the decision to observe was made not before the photon passed through the slits, but after. When, from a common-sense perspective, should the particle’s trajectory be definitively determined? An experiment conducted within the framework of this hypothesis yielded a result that transcended any conventional scientific paradigm. The photon behaved as if its past behavior had been determined retrospectively, depending on the observer’s decision after the particle’s passage through the experimental apparatus. If the researcher decided to record the path after the fact, the quantum’s past was instantly restructured to accommodate this choice: the interference pattern disappeared, and the photon retroactively manifested itself as a corpuscle. From this, Wheeler derived a formula that anyone who claims any sober understanding of the world’s structure deserves to keep in mind: "No phenomenon is a phenomenon until it has been observed". Reality, that is, does not exist autonomously from the observer. It does not exist in the objective sense in which we have been taught to think. It crystallizes where the beam of your attention is directed at that moment. Everything that remains unnoticed exists in a state of superposition — that open potentiality that has not yet chosen its path. If this statement is physically correct, and, as we have found, it has been confirmed by independent experiments, then the conclusion follows: whoever directs your attention determines which of the possible realities will become the actual one for you. This is not a matter of banal "opinion formation" or someone "determining your picture of the world". This is an analogous physical process in which the detectors in Young’s experiment predetermine the behavior of a photon. There’s no philosophical exaggeration here, let alone an esoteric interpretation superimposed on scientific data. On the contrary, we’re looking at an attempt to formulate as precisely as possible what these data actually mean. And if such a scale seems excessive to you, it’s only because the civilization in which we live has systematically relegated this meaning to the periphery of consciousness for centuries. We’ve been left with fragments of dry calculations and formulas, preferring not to ask the question: what, exactly, does this science tell us about our everyday existence?

To translate Wheeler’s equation from academic language to a visual level, it’s worth using an analogy. Imagine a television screen. Scenes flash on it at a certain frequency: people arguing, having conversations, someone crying, someone advertising toothpaste. It creates the illusion that this set lives inside a plastic box. But where did all this come from? Of course, the device itself doesn’t generate anything. The image on the screen is created by decoding the electromagnetic waves incoming to the device. They cannot be seen, heard, smelled, touched, or tasted. But it is precisely within them that the faces, stories, and meanings are encoded, which later appear on the screen. The device’s job is to receive the induced signal, decode the information encoded at a specific frequency, and then display it as a visible image. If for some reason the television breaks down, the film or program will not disappear. The signal will continue to exist in the airwaves. As soon as you turn on another working receiver and tune it to an identical wavelength, the image will reappear. Now apply this principle to our perceptual apparatus. In the metaphysical coordinate system, attention occupies a causal place. It encodes, directs, and selects the very wave that will ultimately unfold into your subjective reality. The brain serves as a biological receiver that deciphers incoming signals and translates them into what we perceive as the visible, audible, and dense material world. Between attention and matter exists a medium — an information field. It contains everything that has ever been thought, spoken, or done. It continues to transmit signals, even if an individual receiver fails. Before us is the all-encompassing wave function of the Universe. Every thought, word, action, and event is forever imprinted in this gigantic archive. The ancients described this phenomenon through the sacred image of the "all-seeing eye". This metaphor reveals the properties of a wave field encompassing all observable reality as a single whole. An equally important conclusion follows from this assumption. If your attention is focused on fear, pain, wars, illnesses, broken relationships, lack of money, hatred, that’s where you invest a portion of your creative power. These contents subsequently materialize into the life you live and then, through collective resonance, permeate the environment around you. Each person carries real weight here, for they directly co-create the overall picture of the world, even if their participation in this process is unconscious. The main trap of our perception is the belief that attention registers a ready-made reality. In reality, it selects it from a boundless ocean of possibilities. It’s like a game with an infinite number of alternative endings. All the levels, obstacles, and plotlines are already written, but the ending you see on your screen depends entirely on your choice of vector. Everything is determined by the trajectory along which the beam of your attention moves in the next second. This is the great mystery: from the infinite "nothing" of potentiality, the tangible "something" of your life is born.

I’d like to add one more detail, otherwise our entire discussion will devolve into a form of neurobiological reductionism. Official science interprets consciousness as a product of the brain — the result of electrochemical processes occurring in its cortex. A kind of side effect of neural activity that arises when the nervous system reaches a certain level of complexity. This explanation appears "respectable" and fits perfectly with the public image of a "scientist" who recognizes only what can be weighed and placed in a Petri dish. However, anyone who has ever observed their own thinking with sufficient attention has noticed that a thought "comes" from somewhere. It arises as an impulse from outside, and its content cannot be reduced to the simple sum of signals between neurons. In this regard, the brain is more of an intermediary. It translates the incoming signal into a form accessible to our perception. This image is entirely consistent with the findings of quantum physics, including the latest discoveries by researchers whose work straddles the boundaries of physics and biology. If the wave function of the Universe is a real physical structure that contains all that exists, then "thinking" as such is not generated by the brain; it manifests through it. In this context, the brain acts as a kind of source of communication through which consciousness enters and is then expressed through the physical body.

Among the brain’s key functions are managing biological processes and maintaining the connection between body and consciousness. Reflexes, blood pressure regulation, heart rate, and the functioning of the endocrine glands — all of these are automatic processes in which consciousness is not involved. Meanwhile, the intellectual and emotional processes we experience as "thinking" originate in the field space of meanings. The brain then processes and implements the received impulse. This explains why directed attention possesses genuine physical power. What happens isn’t limited by the biology of an individual neuron; the mechanics unfold at the level of the wave function, for which the brain is simply one of the receiving antennas. And the farm built around attention extraction, which will be discussed below, operates with a completely different object than its technical descriptions suggest. Consciousness is chosen as the primary target. In this algorithm, the brain plays the role of a conductor, being an organ of interaction with the higher mental nature, which, unlike the gray matter, is not contained within the cranium and is not limited by its size.

The knowledge discovered by European science in the early 19th century existed in ancient cultures thousands of years before Jung. Western thought still grasps it with the characteristic sluggishness with which it encounters anything that goes beyond its materialistic dogma. For representatives of ancient traditions, attention was a practical skill, passed down from teacher to student and serving as the supporting pillar of the universe. Searching for these intersections in the sacred texts of the past can provoke a genuine epistemological shock. The researcher discovers not just one or two accidental parallels; on the contrary, a stable structural unity is formed: a single pattern is independently described in seven different languages, centuries apart. For example, in the Indian Vedic tradition, the term "dharana" refers to focused attention. This is a fundamental step for transforming oneself and the world around one. Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras, compiled 2,000 years before Jung’s experiments, describe this mechanics in detail: from the conditions of practice to typical mistakes and results at each level. In Chinese Taoism, an identical principle was formulated even more succinctly in short aphoristic texts, and reads: "Where there is Yi, there is Qi" — energy follows attention. This formula formed the foundation of all Eastern medicine, acupuncture, martial arts, and qigong practices. Tibetan philosophy went even further, developing specific methods for working with psychosomatic regulation. It describes the practice of tummo, in which focused concentration on specific areas of the body increases skin temperature by seven to eight degrees in just a few minutes. This effect was officially recorded in the 1970s in Harvard laboratories under the direction of Herbert Benson.

Sufi masters have spent centuries honing the art of tawaijukh. This unique form of focused attention, in their tradition, affects the heart of the student, transcending any distance. Their treatises document specific techniques, conditions of application, limitations, and ethical frameworks, laid out with the rigorous methodology inherent in a well-developed scientific discipline. The Slavic "Pathway" system preserved the practice of swastya — the simultaneous focusing of attention on all nine energy centers of the body as a single field. Despite a partial break in continuity, this legacy has gradually been restored in recent decades. Nikola Tesla repeatedly returned to this central idea in his letters and patents of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, urging thinking in terms of energy, vibration, and frequency. His biographers are forced to include these statements in their biographies, while academic scholarship prefers to ignore them, focusing exclusively on the practical applications of his inventions. When seven completely alien traditions converge on a common denominator, the probability of a random coincidence approaches zero. This is a stable empirical observation, which a mature civilization will sooner or later arrive at, driven by the very structure of the universe.

The technocratic civilization of the last four centuries dismissed this body of knowledge as superstition, not because of the falsity of its observations. In fact, no one refuted them. Rather, it was because they, by definition, did not fit within the rigid research frameworks that modernity had established for itself, excluding from the field of accepted knowledge everything that did not fit within them. The reason is that taking such knowledge seriously would require a wholesale restructuring of the power system. A system in which human attention is recognized as inalienable property and a source of personal power is structurally incompatible with a model in which this attention serves as free raw material, extracted without the knowledge of its owner. Of these two concepts, the latter, naturally, has an interest in keeping the former permanently dismissed as marginalia, occultism, and amateur mysticism, deprived of institutional support. Only in recent decades — through quantum mechanics on one hand and neuroscience on the other — has this ancient knowledge gradually returned to academic audiences. And it does so with the characteristic embarrassment with which a long-banned library finally appears on the shelves, pretending that there was never any ban.

An ancient Slavic proverb says, "Where attention draws, energy flows; where energy flows, blood follows". This is the most accurate description of the physical process permeating all levels of a living organism. The word "flows" conveys the dynamic, fluid nature of the final stage. The only flow that materializes the hidden dynamics in the physical body is the movement of blood. This picture appears perfectly logical through the prism of the areas of physics that developed primarily in the Soviet scientific school in the 20th century (we will return to them in more detail). The medium filling the space between visible atoms obeys laws similar to gas mechanics. When a vortex of such a medium condenses to the state of matter, it successively passes through the phases of gas, liquid, and solid. Blood belongs to that level of condensation that still retains fluidity and the ability to quickly redistribute. But at the same time, it already possesses substance, the ability to transport molecules, hormones, and oxygen. Blood is located exactly midway between the world of waves and the world of forms. It is precisely this borderline nature that makes it the first physical conductor of those changes that are initiated by our attention.

In the Slavic energy system, human development is described through three kingdoms. Silver is associated with the physical body and the lower centers. Copper pertains to the spiritual realm, its core being the middle centers, where the heart plays the role of the core. Gold corresponds to the spirit and is associated with the upper centers. Blood occupies a special position in this system. It is the only tissue in the body that continuously circulates through all three kingdoms simultaneously. It bathes the lower centers, flows through the middle centers, and ascends to the upper centers. Its main driving force remains the center of the Copper Kingdom, the very "table" of the Manifest World where the vertical of the subtle and dense converges. No other tissue possesses the property of pervasive presence. Therefore, blood is essentially the physical integrator of the entire system, the body’s mobile memory, storing the imprint of each center it has passed through. Within this algorithm, each iron-containing vortex structure (as the hemoglobin molecule is constructed) represents a microscopic antenna. In addition to transporting oxygen, it is capable of perceiving subtle signals from the environment in which directed attention unfolds. When the gaze focuses on a specific area of the body, organ, or image, a local restructuring of the vortex fields is triggered at that point. This change is detected by the "iron" vortices of the blood and, in a matter of seconds, is distributed throughout the entire vascular system. Reaching each cell, this impulse determines which biochemical processes will be initiated next. Blood is manifested thought — information condensed into fluid matter. This statement best explains why directed attention has such specific and measurable physiological effects, which have been discussed in various traditions for millennia. In particular, this explains why yogic concentration on certain channels — nadis — can instantly alter local blood flow. By managing attention, a person controls the movement of the environment. When it shifts, they directly influence the blood. Subsequently, the processes in the life of each cell are restructured. The entire chain unfolds in seconds, without conscious analysis or the mediation of a thinking self. For this reason, attention should be viewed as a direct physical effect on blood flow. Anyone who can intercept its direction from the outside isn’t controlling a person’s "opinion" or "mood" — it’s a direct intervention at the level of cellular biochemistry. In any other situation, such manipulation would be classified as invasive medicine, requiring patient consent, a license, and strict oversight. But in this case, no one asks for your consent.

Attention is structured on multiple levels and exhibits different properties depending on the register in which it operates. It can be aptly likened to a telescope, which, when changing its focal length, produces polar images of the same object. Without a diagram of these levels, it’s impossible to understand the structure I’ve agreed to call "the farm". Its entire engineering is built on managing which level of consciousness a person is currently stuck on. I propose we "tour" these levels. First, we’ll descend, since the farm’s influence is directed from top to bottom, "pressing consciousness to the ground". And then we’ll ascend, because liberation occurs in the opposite direction — from the lower to the upper levels, gradually returning consciousness to the higher ones, from which the entire panorama opens.

The first, lowest level, includes immediate physical sensations. All sensory stimuli arrive here, and here the body’s immediate response occurs, preempting any mental interpretation. A heard word can cause muscles to tense or relax. A seen image can cause the heart to accelerate or decelerate. A sudden change in the environment causes a subtle shift in the depth and rhythm of breathing, peristalsis, body temperature, and pupillary function. The brain, confronted with any semantic trigger, activates physiological processes that would occur during a real-life encounter with the object within tens or hundreds of milliseconds — that is, on a scale before the mind has even begun to engage. These programs unfold before a person can even comprehend what has happened. It is on this level that the crudest and most effective tools of influence operate: from an advertising banner to a sharp sound behind you or a sudden change in lighting in a shopping mall. A split second before the conscious mind can even recognize what exactly has appeared on the screen, the observer’s diaphragm instantly contracts, the adrenal glands release the first dose of adrenaline into the bloodstream, and the amygdala issues the "danger" command. At this point, the conscious mind, having arrived late to the biological event that has already occurred, only has to find a verbal description. This must be done quickly and convincingly enough to create the illusion that this explanation was the cause. Then, in fact, the reaction arose before any agenda and is completely independent of it.

The basement is home not so much to humans as conscious subjects, but to evolutionarily ancient structures that predate self-awareness: mirror neurons, the amygdala, and the brainstem. This system, hundreds of millions of years old, formed long before the advent of speech. Here, a basic response is automatically triggered, a response that connects humans to any mammal. Attention instantly shifts to a sharp, unexpected signal. In the environment in which our ancestors lived, such an impulse meant one of three things: prey, a threat, or the appearance of a fellow human being, and therefore justified any ongoing activity. Everything that reacts faster than thought is concentrated on this level. And a person accustomed to perceiving themselves as autonomous subjects usually finds themselves here after the fact, when an action initiated without their conscious participation has occurred.

One level above that is the background state — the general affective climate in which a person lives day after day. Unlike the first-floor outburst, it isn’t perceived as a signal, as it lacks a distinct figure from which to distance oneself. It’s the environment, and its invisibility is precisely its main strength. Awakeness, fatigue, anxiety, calm, depression, elation, alertness, relaxation, openness, withdrawal — each of these states sets a filter through which a person evaluates everything else. And it does so consistently and imperceptibly that this prism seems a natural property of the world, like the air they breathe, as something identical to themselves. The effect of this internal state is easier to demonstrate in simple life situations. If you’re depressed, your partner’s unintentional tardiness is perceived as "he’s fallen out of love," "I’m not important," a harbinger of loss and the beginning of the end. A similar delay, against a backdrop of peace of mind, will evoke entirely different thoughts: perhaps the person was simply stuck in traffic. A stranger’s gaze on the subway, met with caution, is interpreted as a threat or a challenge. But when you’re open to the world, it will seem like ordinary human curiosity. A single stimulus, depending on the receiver’s settings, shapes different realities for us. And whoever controls it influences all subsequent perception — before consciousness has a chance to engage and make a decision. The second floor is the most difficult to identify precisely because it doesn’t manifest as a separate entity. While the first floor manifests a sharp impulse and can be consciously distanced, the second floor creates a stable state in which a person lives for weeks, months, years — sometimes decades — without perceiving it as something separate from themselves. Only occasionally, for example, in a village, in the mountains, by the sea, or after a long walk in the forest — a person is astonished to discover that all this time there has been a continuous noise inside them, reminiscent of the hum of a poorly tuned transformer. And when it briefly subsides, the traveler begins to hear himself for the first time in years. This is that rare moment when the background noise suddenly becomes visible. But it’s short-lived; returning to a familiar environment immediately restores the previous state. It’s precisely this stealth that makes the second floor the farm’s main strategic resource. Attacks on the first floor are episodic and can be recognized in retrospect. The farm’s presence on the second floor, by contrast, is almost imperceptible. News feeds, the frantic rhythm of social media, the lighting of shopping malls, the vibrations of a smartphone in your pocket, the color schemes of the interiors, and the interface design — the entire infrastructure is meticulously tuned to maintain a trance-like state in which all other instruments operate many times more effectively. Disrupt the background noise, and the entire megastructure will fail. But as long as the broadcast continues uninterrupted, the farm can remain unfazed by isolated attacks from residents for as long as it likes. If a 15th-century ruler had been given access to the background states of his subjects, he would have been considered a sorcerer and likely burned at the stake as an enemy of humanity. At the beginning of the 21st century, such access is sold as an advertising contract — and the buyer wears a tie.

One level higher are specific emotions — affective modalities with a distinct expression, recognizable phenomenology, and neurochemical signature. Fear is associated with the release of cortisol and norepinephrine, joy with dopamine and endorphins, anger with testosterone and adrenaline, interest with dopamine and acetylcholine, disgust with activation of the insular cortex, and surprise with the simultaneous release of several neurotransmitter systems. Each emotion, in addition to its neurochemistry, has its own intensity — a control lever. It’s easily accessible, knowing the precise coordinates and the required force. A modern recommendation algorithm operates these levers with a precision that surpasses the user’s introspective abilities. The system analyzes millions of local actions: every swipe, scroll, pause on a specific image, rejection, like, or comment, and builds a behavioral profile based on this massive dataset. It catalogs a person’s emotional responses by their degree of reactivity: content evokes fear (say, 70 % out of 100 %), interest (60 %), or indignation (95 %). Based on this data, an optimal cocktail is created to keep the user on the platform for as long as possible. This flow is neither so monotonous as to cause fatigue nor so varied as to disrupt the emotional flow. A precisely calibrated mixture is created, calculated by a neural network, to optimize a single parameter: retention time.

In his book, "The Puppeteer’s Bible," Tom Walker coined the term "the influence stack". It’s a system of seven parallel columns with a single, unifying effect. An individual is completely powerless against it, even if they’re a genius. This is due to the overload of the nervous system, which the stack influences through all channels simultaneously. The desire decoder calculates which of the eight basic needs drive a specific user’s behavior. These include survival, security, status, belonging, love, autopilot, self-actualization, and validation. The algorithm analyzes the hierarchy of all deficits in the personality structure and selects content that directly appeals to its dominant component. The next element is the "connection forger". It creates an emotional attachment to the source of information, turning leaving the platform into a subjective experience of loss, and operates on the same neurochemistry as attachment to a living being. The release of oxytocin with each notification from a "loved one" is indistinguishable in molecular composition from the hormonal surge of a real hug. The nervous system doesn’t distinguish who exactly is being "hugged". Finally, the "narrative neuralizer" immerses the user in an epic story. There, they are assigned a special role, meaning, and destiny, becoming something far bigger than a content consumer. A fighter for justice awakens within them, a guardian of tradition, a herald of a new ethic, a defender of the oppressed, a hero of the mystical battle between good and evil. And this grandiose spectacle unfolds right now, in your personal feed, before your eyes. Once occupied, the role becomes ingrained in the wearer with the same organic density with which, in Dostoevsky’s "Demons," the mask of an ideological hero adheres to an underdeveloped personality, condemning them to the reproduction of a theatrical movement for the rest of their days. Leaving his role would inevitably return him to everyday life, where he is an absolute zero. Such an invisible status is subjectively far more unbearable than any risks that come with the chosen status.

The next column, the "linguistic master key," operates with keywords as triggers for pre-existing neural networks and implies a separate layer for analysis, which we’ll explore later. The "cognitive exploit" draws on over two hundred mental traps, organized by Kahneman and his followers: anchoring, social proof, framing, illusion of control, and confirmation bias. Each bias is a door left by evolution, open to anyone with the access code. The "ethical roadmap," paradoxically strengthening the puppeteer’s power, disguises the algorithm as a moral stance. The platform’s demonstrative restraint in certain matters is far more effective than outright exploitation, as its declared ethics completely allays any suspicions in the user. "Neural rewiring" lies at the foundation of the entire stack. Until a person masters their own "mental patterns," they are unable to distinguish between those of others, and any combination of the six previous columns passes through them, bypassing resistance. When a user sincerely believes they are participating in a meaningful discussion, they are, in fact, navigating a pre-set stage, where every remark they make was predicted months before they utter it, as the script is built on a mathematical model trained on the digital traces of billions of users like themselves — the puppets.

Above this is the cognitive level, where the integration of the first three occurs. Sensory sensations, states, and specific emotions come together here. On this basis, the brain constructs interpretations, searches for patterns, builds logical chains, compares incoming information with previous experience, and formulates and tests hypotheses. This floor is dominated by the prefrontal cortex, evolutionarily the youngest and most resource-intensive part of our brain. Its proper functioning requires significant amounts of glucose, oxygen, time, and relative rest. It’s no coincidence that "The Farm" systematically suppresses it with chronic cortisol: a person who has ascended to the fourth floor sees how the algorithm works — the last thing the digital industry is willing to tolerate. Cattle who see a fence cease to be cattle. Chronic cortisol pressure suppresses the prefrontal cortex and redirects resources to the limbic system, responsible for the "fight, flight, or freeze" response. This design is justified by evolution: when faced with a real threat, there’s no time to think; action is necessary. Under conditions of constant stress caused by the endless consumption of clickbait and disturbing content, the body switches to a reflexive response. People simply lose the ability to rise above the third floor. They no longer have the ability to do so, nor even the notion that there are other floors above them.

Most discussions presented in the media as political, ideological, or substantive take place not on the fourth floor, but on the third floor, skillfully disguised as the fourth. These are pure emotional reactions dressed up in the guise of arguments, clashes of intra-group identities framed as clashes of positions, collective battles disguised as philosophical dialogues — all the things Dostoevsky wrote about in "Demons". And he said more than enough on this subject. Late-night talk show hosts don’t argue with each other; they work together, like two hands playing the same instrument, to pull the lever of the third floor for millions of viewers. The visible conflict onstage is a structural cooperation behind the scenes. Each side desperately needs an adversary, because without an enemy there is no performance, without spectacle there is no excitement, and therefore without affect there are no ratings. The fourth floor is practically silent. It requires days to ponder a single question, which doesn’t fit within the confines of a social media post; it doesn’t garner likes or generate viral reactions. Its economy is incompatible with the attention economy, and that’s precisely why it’s absent from the public sphere. When a general audience encounters a third-floor thinker, their thoughtful, cautious speech seems dull and unconvincing. The listener’s nervous system is tuned to a completely different dynamic, and the slow rhythm of genuine, profound thought is perceived as a failure and an absence of something that should be there. Chekhov offers a wonderful example: a provincial teacher, pondering the same thought for years, seems ridiculous to a metropolitan columnist, but twenty years later it turns out that the poor fellow has been mulling over other people’s thoughts one at a time, and none of them were his own.

Above the fourth floor is the system floor. Anyone who has managed to ascend here sees much more than disparate elements: their consciousness is revealed to the deep connections between them. They no longer see the world as a conglomerate of random events; they discover programs, cause-and-effect relationships, and structural isomorphisms. The explanation for their state no longer fits into primitive linear schemas. It unfolds into a complex sequence: "I’m anxious because I watched the news this morning — cortisol suppressed my prefrontal cortex, and I automatically attributed internal tension to external circumstances, whereas the source of the panic lies within the neurochemical cycle triggered by the content". On the fifth floor, the figure of the personal enemy disappears completely. A person stops seeing a specific politician, boss, or relative as the root cause of their troubles. He perceives the structure as a whole and realizes that the content matrix churns out precisely these phantoms in millions of others, and the "enemies" themselves are simply masks replacing one another on an endless stage. Before him stands a similar set, its architect faceless and always behind the scenes. Recognizing this architecture, a person stops attacking masks. This is one of the most powerful liberations available to him in the current environment, which is why access to it is carefully blocked. Climbing to the systemic level is impossible while in a frenzy. It requires time, silence, the ability to simultaneously hold contradictory facts in mind and slowly reduce them to a simple essence. For this reason, it is consistently driven out of our lives.

The highest level is the planetary one. Here, the center of perception shifts from the egocentric "I" to the entire system as a whole, and the key question is not "how does this affect me" but "how does this affect everything". When thinking in the first person, throwing a cigarette butt out a car window seems like a minor infraction: "Just one cigarette in a big city, nothing bad will happen". But when perception shifts to the planetary level, it becomes clear: an action either helps or harms, and there is no middle ground. As a result, one cigarette butt, multiplied by billions of others, changes water systems, soils, and biocenoses. From such a height, there are no "trifles"; here, expanding consciousness means changing the focal length of the telescope of attention. When you learn to freely shift your focus across the entire spectrum — from the level of the body to the scale of the planet — you stop dividing the world into black and white. You gain a deeper understanding, a more comprehensive assessment, and a systemic perspective, making you immune to primitive manipulations that only work on the lower floors. Climbing to the sixth floor, you see the "farm" from a bird’s eye view: its location, hidden fences, and conveyor belts. From this vantage point, there’s no need to fear shadows on the pen wall. Therefore, the entire system is optimized to prevent a person from climbing above the second floor. There’s no need to prohibit anything or outlaw climbing. It’s enough to make it physiologically expensive — requiring metabolic resources the user simply doesn’t have, since the farm has already extracted them. It’s enough to make the silence unbearable, so that a person runs from it like fire, and to fill every hour with surrogate stimuli, leaving the prefrontal cortex no chance for analytical work. That’s how the farm works.

In our discussion of the levels of attention, we examined the vertical axis — the levels at which consciousness can exist at any given moment and move between them. However, beyond the vertical, there’s also a horizontal plane within a person, figuratively speaking, a moral landscape. Decades of accumulated experience is distributed unevenly within it, creating bright zones and dark spots that consciousness doesn’t explore for decades. Laziness has absolutely nothing to do with it; the whole point lies in the body’s energy conservation. To understand why the "farm" wields such devastating power over people formally aware of its existence, we need to describe the horizontal plane. It remains outside the scope of public discussions about the psyche, yet it determines a good half of the behavior of everyone living on Midgard-Earth.

Imagine an old house inhabited by a person with everything they’ve accumulated over the years. On the ground floor are the things they use every day: the kitchen, bedroom, workspace, and everyday objects that are on display. One floor above are rooms they visit less often but still keep tidy: a wardrobe with winter clothes, a library, a living room whose doors are opened only on special occasions. Even higher up is the attic, filled with childhood things, letters, and memorable trinkets they can’t bring themselves to part with. And finally, the basement. Over the years, things have accumulated there that they couldn’t bear to throw out: a deceased parent’s shoes, a box of children’s drawings, and odors that linger even after renovations. The basement is always filled with something. In the dim, cool conditions, something happens that never occurs in bright, upstairs rooms: objects stored below send subtle, intangible impulses upward, impulses that people usually don’t even notice. But as a result, they manifest as unreasonable sadness, nightmares, and irrational reactions to certain people and their tone of voice. The owner of the house doesn’t connect these phenomena to the basement. He attributes everything to "fatigue," "age," "autumn melancholy," or any other plausible reason beyond his personal history. An attempt to find the true source would require descending into the darkness. But this is undesirable for reasons as unconscious as the signals themselves. The basement is an image of an inner world, where all the unprocessed episodes of life that left a strong impression are preserved. For some reason, the person didn’t have the time or was unable to live them to the end. He didn’t bring this process to its natural conclusion through action, tears, words, or reflection. Instead, obeying the demands of circumstances, social norms, fear, haste, and the density of everyday life, he chose to close the lid and leave everything as it was. But the repressed episode didn’t disappear; it moved to the basement and continued to live its life there.

What is an unfinished episode, and why can’t it disappear on its own? To answer this question, let’s turn to a biological fact familiar to anyone who has observed an animal narrowly escape death. A deer, having escaped a wolf chase and found itself in the safety of a thicket on the other side of a river, stops, lies on its side, and trembles for several minutes. This is a release of excess energy, unspent after the threat has passed. Bodily mobilization doesn’t automatically reset, even if you mentally say, "Now it’s all over". Release occurs through physical movement, trembling, shaking, deep and long exhalations, and any other somatic manifestation that signals the brain that the situation can be released. The deer trembles for a while, then rises, shakes itself, and calmly returns to graze, as if nothing had happened. There’s no trace in his body of the fact that an hour ago he was a step away from death. Stressful activity was completely reset by the protocol, and his nervous system returned to a state of absolute rest, as the biological cycle had already completed. A person in a similar situation behaves differently. To rise, shake, shake himself, or release pent-up primal terror for him means "losing self-control," "sinking," "showing weakness," or "failing to cope". From early childhood, a child is systematically weaned from such behavior through commands: "Don’t cry," "pull yourself together," "calm down," "pull yourself together!" The body internalizes this as a program. The next time, without the participation of conscious will, it stops the trembling at its very inception, swallows the scream, locks in the sob, and pushes all the accumulated, mobilized energy back inside. Unable to express itself, the impulse settles in the form of muscle tension, which will accompany a person for years and decades. All the emotions not fully processed leave a trace in the body in the form of a compression bundle, a displaced vertebra, tension in the shoulders and jaw. The bearer no longer perceives this as discomfort or anomaly, as it has become natural. Such somatic markers tend to accumulate. By the age of forty, the average city dweller has hundreds of them; by fifty, thousands. The body in which the reader of these lines now resides stores a dense, tangible archive of everything that was once only half-experienced and has yet to find the opportunity to resolve. This preservation has a specific physiological cost. Each clamp and center of tension requires a considerable energy supply to maintain itself. In the case of a single clamp, the expenditure is minimal, but if there are thousands, the figures become colossal. Much of the chronic fatigue now considered a natural companion of adulthood is the overhead of maintaining a "library of unlived memories". It’s difficult for people to comprehend this because they have nothing to compare it to: their memory is devoid of a state free of blocks. And so, current vitality is accepted as the norm, while true health lies buried somewhere within, several stories below, and hasn’t manifested itself in a long time.

Beyond energy depletion, this trauma repository leads to another destructive consequence: it completely distorts the perception of the present. Every past trauma locked away in the memory basement remains sensitive to stimuli similar to the circumstances in which it was formed. A person who experienced a sharp shout from their father as a child will cringe for the rest of their life at any male voice resembling their father’s. And even if a colleague makes a completely neutral remark in the context of work, they instantly activate a defensive reaction. Consciousness can only find a plausible excuse: "I don’t like him," "he’s arrogant," "he’s being aggressive". Such connections, entangling thousands of everyday events, mean that a person never lives in the present. Their existence unfolds as a layering of the past on the present, with the past always setting the affective tone, and the present providing a convenient pretext for its activation. The presence of a hidden archive gives birth to the powerful machine we deal with. All news content and advertising are compiled to guarantee control through the system’s vulnerabilities: fear, anger, envy, the thirst for recognition, longing for the lost, or anxiety about the future. In a person free from such a repository, such impulses would trigger a short-lived reaction and immediately fade, like waves crashing against a rocky shore and rolling back. But for a person burdened with the rubble of the past, content clings to pre-existing hooks formed over the years. The external signal activates entire clusters of unlived fragments, stirring up such filth from the subconscious that it clogs all channels of perception for a long time. And until the storm subsides, the carrier will remain in a deep dormancy, and sober thoughts simply won’t reach it. The farm exploits this weakness of the mind. She doesn’t have to create reactions from scratch, she just pulls on old hooks, which is why her efforts are so economical and effective.