Machine elves are the hyperdimesional sentient beings that love to play with whomever they can play with. If you as a human being decide to enter their realm, they will most likely want to play with you. If you carry with your lots of identity and egoic attachments, they will strip you naked and unveil something which you may or may not be ready to witness.
These supra dimensional elves are sentient beings just like you, me, the dog barking, the cat meowing. They also have a sense of I. They also have the primordial I-thought that all physical sentient beings have in this world.
Because they are “other-wordly” doesn’t mean that their experience is not subjective based.
All phenomenal perceiving needs a subject to be there.
But it is only the supreme being that is weightless and formless that permeates all that is beyond all manifestation. This supreme being is God. And these elves if they are spiritually advanced enough may also have recognized this unfading light of the multiverses that all the mystics and Buddhas of the world have done.
Silence is the foundation of all experience, and I suspect that these machine-elves also have learnt this, and that is why they wish to play with us in hyper-dimensional playgrounds.
Excerpt from a talk by Terence McKenna in 1993
I remember the very, very first time that I smoked DMT. It was sort of a benchmark, you might say, and I remember that this friend of mine that always got there first visited me with this little glass pipe and this stuff which looked like orange mothballs. And since I was a graduate of Dr. Hofmann’s, I figured there were no surprises. So the only question I asked is, ‘How long does it last?’ and he said, ‘About five minutes.’ So I did it and… [long pause, audience cheers] there was a something, like a flower, like a chrysanthemum in orange and yellow that was sort of spinning, spinning, and then it was like I was pushed from behind and I fell through the chrysanthemum into another place that didn’t seem like a state of mind, it seemed like another place. And what was going on in this place aside from the tastefully soffited indirect lighting, and the crawling geometric hallucinations along the domed walls, what was happening was that there were a lot of ahh.. beings in there, what I call self-transforming machine elves. Sort of like jewelled basketballs all dribbling their way toward me. And if they’d had faces they would have been grinning, but they didn’t have faces. And they assured me that they loved me and they told me not to be amazed; not to give way to astonishment. And so I watched them, even though I wondered if maybe I hadn’t really done it this time, and what they were doing was they were making objects come into existence by singing them into existence. Objects which looked like Fabergé eggs from Mars morphing themselves with Mandaean alphabetical structures. They looked like the concrescence of linguistic intentionality put through a kind of hyper-dimensional transform into three-dimensional space. And these little machines offered themselves to me. And I realized when I looked at them that if I could bring just one of these little trinkets back, nothing would ever be quite the same again. And I wondered, Where Am I? And What Is Going On? It occurred to me that these must be holographic viral projections from an autonomous continuum that was somehow intersecting my own, and then I thought a more elegant explanation would be to take it at face value and realize that I had broken into an ecology of souls. And that somehow I was getting a peek over the other side. Somehow I was finding out that thing that you cheerfully assume you can’t find out. But it felt like I was finding out. And it felt.. and then I can’t remember what it felt like because the little self-transforming tykes interrupted me and said, “Don’t think about it. Don’t think about who we are… Think about doing what we’re doing. Do it! Do it! DO IT NOW!!!”
And what they meant was use your voice to make an object. And as I understood, I felt a bubble kind of grow inside of me. And I watched these little elf tykes jumping in and out of my chest; they like to do that to reassure you. And they said, “Do it.” And I felt language rise up in me that was unhooked from english, and I began to speak…
A first hand account of Machine Elves
Here above is a fascinating first hand account of what happened to this young man in a DMT trip. According to him he made direct contact with these entities, which he calls machine elves or more correctly his ancestors. Moreover they revealed how they permeate reality and the whole universe.
One interesting thing the machine elves told him that our lives are but memories of these highly-intelligent transcended beings.
My name is just a name, I am not my name, I am the nameless because the Dao that can be named is not the eternal Dao.