.. to the Masters, without whom we would not even exist ..
.. at least, not in any meaningful sense ..
The log is buddhadharma, the mind smoke, the body ash, the ego is flame biting itself out.
Back in the bedrock, we spit up a fit.
Ferociously rustle our shackles at the regime to no avail.
The wheel blows out again. And the smoke of the all-consuming runs out of tail.
Surf’s up. Guns out.
Never give up the shout.
Ambition melting off the bone.
When you strike, strike at me.
I’m always damaged people.
Peeking through the keyhole of somebody else’s game.
The only damage is the baggage of neuroplasticity.
Why am I at these crossroads again?
Why must being deeply human have the condition of acting the same?
Why can’t you breathe through me?
Why can’t you try to see with me now?
Ghosts are the only sentience without …..pretend.
Your only step is to dream with me now.
And carve our seams into stone.
".. don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot.. "
- Joni Mitchell
.. you see, one day I met a voice in my own head, & it said,
".. the victim is a villain only from the perspective of the villain .."
.. the idea of an economy of energy is as old as the most ancient shamanic traditions, although Georges Bataille was a major proponent in western academic theory ..
.. & saving energy's the only real means of/ path to attaining success .. everything else is just a variation on that .. indeed, the whole of ethics & morality is simply a means to that end, in fact .. saving energy, that is ..
.. but beyond this we shouldn't say too much, because this is a Work in progress, & we should give it space; let it breathe, as it manifests ..
.. we've already heard that the Way that can be spoken of is not the real Way, so what could it possibly mean to be the voice of the people, these daze ..?
.. shades (thus named because shades had given everything away to be/come the very voice of the people such that shades was afraid to ask what if anything was even left at the end) said, "speak subtly, as if you're whispering .. but carry a big ..
.. outline & sketch, but don't over-con nect ; trust the people to find what they need in what you're offering ..
.. to truly be the voice of the people, the magician must let the voice of the people speak thru them .. "
".. rewriting history .. maybe that's how we can deal with the horror .. "
- from The Offer
.. what a foolish vanity is this humanity ..
.. it doesn't pay to be a good person; that's the truth of it..
.. & the truth is no one gnows if anything they do will ever change that fact ..
.. but there's only so much deceit you can get away with before reality itself turns against you . .
TICK TOCK goes the clock - remember that sound? Some of you may never have heard it, what with all these new-fangled phones and digital alarm clocks. The inescapable sound of a mechanism that still haunts our dreams, - tick tock, tick tock: counting away, counting down until an obnoxious sound and our days are out.
Clock-time, that external man-imposed rhythm upon himself - a burden that is only lifted in dreams, when psychological time holds full sway, and lives can pass away in minutes, or less than the blink of an eye.
Tick Tock, what scenes may, ones that change and quickly fade away, or last for (at least) one full hour's glass turn of the wheel. drip drop, sounds the rain washing away the days - a bit more calming, that.
We may have whatever crystal there throbbing away with an electric hum to give us some shared reference to the flux of time, but the density of each of those min[yo]utes differs according to our experiential context.
Minute, as in small - miniscule. Those tiny clicks of a watch - "I'm going to be late, late...", etc. said the White Rabbit.
Down what rabbit-hole are you headed, and where does it lead? We all have tunnel vision as the immediate now washes through us, coursing in lived experience. The ripples and wave, the rhythms - now tied to something removed from us: a dark crystal pulses in the mist, and leaden machines rise to do (some) man's bidding, and maybe just distract the others.
The thirst for stimulation and its ever-receding satiety fulfilled by social media, or has it always required acceleration? Who's behind the helm, and do we know where we're driving? What is behind the animosity toward the quiet and slow. What rises out of the depths of silence, when sound itself keeps time?
*A deathless sleep compels the immensity of time*
TIK TOK[E], a rhythm speeding up seconds into minutes into hours into day etc. And the down cycle too, dividing years into months into weeks into days all the way down to the we were never there - too fast you see.
Have we forgotten the long rhythms, which had been the focus of our forebears? And to what consequence? Maybe some still have the long memory...
Distiguishability / Difference / 0|1
I will begin by considering a fundamental distinction between two numeric entities and identify them by 1 and 0. This division is called binary, and other numbers may be represented by further sequences thereof. These are the fundamental bits in digital computing.
Posit, or position, a (data) point in (memory) space. Assign some value represented numerically and this is the foundation of a computing system, apart from peripherals and the semantic values attributed to such a data-point. This minimal point may be denoted by 1. This point is assumed to have a location, and in some sense *is* a location.
Position an additional point somewhere in memory, without assigning it a (numeric) value. Geometrically, with two separated points apparent in our visual-space, we can draw a line segment between them and introduce a third, joining element that links the two together. This segment has two aspects: one each from the perspective of either point. Taken apart from one-another, these may be considered arrows that convey direction of motion, sometimes called the sign of the motion.
Similarly, in the data-space, in order to get any interaction between the points we should introduce a third entity, or pointer, attached to each and which indicates the location (in memory) of the other data-point, thus producing both aspects of the linkage and making it bidirectional. Of course, we could keep it unidirectional if we so pleased and this would be a point in execution, or data flow, with no return.
The minimal such linked data items are 01 and 10, where the second mark in each element refers to the first mark in the other element, which is its location (in memory). These two elements are composed of two bits and I will assume that there is a mechanism for reading, or traversing, them.
... -> 10 -> 01 -> 10 -> ...
... -> [1 -> 0] -> [0 -> 1] -> [1 -> 0] -> ....
[Curiously, adding, 01 + 10 = 11 comes out in decimal notation to the value 3, which is the minimum number of entities, the two points and their join, in connecting two points. With the two themselves making five we include the join as split into the two directions...]
Digging in the Time Before Telephone
Back before there were smartphones, computers, fax machines, telephones, and telegrams, before there was wide newsletter and newspaper reading, before there were cheap paperbacks or any mass-produced books, each book had to be individually typeset and books were confined to the wealthy, amongst who were the few who could read, who themselves often commissioned those books. The cost of sharing ideas demanded a greater weight to the thoughts to be shared in expression and all libraries were private.
.. they call it recession but that isn't what it is ..
.. this is the changing of the energetic guard ..
.. & that which don't make it thru was never meant to, is what I fear..
.. the flavour of enlightenment depends on what the sage has been eating ..