Thursday, March 31, 2011

Imaging The Invisible

"As Peret asserts, the value of such stories resides in the fact that they respond to direct social necessity but in a way that is not obvious in a society dominated by what is utilitarian and functional. Rather they represent a natural surplus of imaginative abundance that may confound or reinforce the way we perceive the world, but which never does so in a simple way. Even though they may have no direct social use, they nonetheless embody the actual state of real relations between people."
— Michael Richardson (Dedalus Book of Surrealism 2: The Myth of the World)


The Analogical Symbolism of A Experiential Hole in My Clothing

Although this opening quotation addresses surrealism, if we change the context to the paranormal, that is to say the verb in information being experiential tales, we have the metamorphosing "vehicles" in the atmosphere, telling us tales of the observer's relationship to the observed. We have the memories of the dead who convey the sense of the ritualistic paths found beneath the living where emotions and the mind meet the entrapment of mistaking words for objects, our reactions to sentience, our imaging to realities.

Carl Jung perhaps aptly characterized the importance of the observer in co-creating realities in terms of our proclivity to  measure reality by divisions, as " It all depends on how we look at things, and not how they are in themselves." Since the entire subject of the paranormal as well as the UFO phenomenon are oddly taboo in public scientific circles, for the most part, over the past several decades, the investigations into these areas of interest have been relegated to a relatively small but persistent portion of the public, which has largely grown inward in it's unofficial divorce from scientific investigation and has become more of a sociological phenomenon than in the past.

When I began writing on these subjects three years ago, I suggested the direct linkage between the UFO phenomenon and other paranormal phenomenon. At the time, this was largely ignored or brushed aside, yet there could be no greater observable phenomenon than these events, it seems to physicists than to apply their theoretical measuring sticks to. Unfortunately this phenomenon is joined at the hip to the idea that these are manned extraterrestrial craft, which I have gone out of my way to suggest it is more likely that they are not. The answer to the UFO phenomenon lies outside of Ufology and yet, the proliferation of new mythologies growing in the hothouse of isolation, grow ever more domesticated into very toxic product that grow out of memes and rumors and inferences that are for the most part, third or fourth hand or worse, anonymous sources. Is there a way out of this?

 I think a first step is to take a pause. The second is to admit that we know no more than we did sixty years ago. The third is to look at the relationship to the observable effects of this phenomenon and ask the scientific community, not the political community, some tough but open minded questions as contrary to the clamor of a small vocal cult of skeptics, they are not the adversarial community, if they are conducting science. The level of maturity in this field seems to be lowered daily by polemics rather than asking ourselves some tough questions. Perhaps if we act like adults we can be treated as adults.

A universe of implicate ordering that transcribes the laws of thought based on the editorial prowess of language, as a closed system, as a proverbial software of descriptors we use as referents to imagine reality, may be also producing indirect effects we are unaware of that we call paranormal, as opposed to normal which has yet to be defined as a stable model, an M theory can encompass the aggregate sum of phenomenon without knowing all of it's constituent dynamics. Largely, reality is a set of theoretical models that are in effect, mythologies in their incompleteness, whether it is the UFO phenomenon or the Big Bang theory.

My questions are on the surface simple enough but the answers contrary to most assumptions are not simple.
1. Is there an observer effect when the phenomenon shifts fro a wave to a construct of energetic particles?
2. Is # 1 perhaps based on the similarity of REG results seen in the global consciousness experiment that is a tipping point in the appearance of the phenomenon?
3. Based on #2, is there a linkage to consciousness? Specifically the entanglement of minds to produce effects such as #1?
4. If this is a natural phenomenon that links the coherence of a large group of individuals to create a visible resonance effect, can this then be triggered? Are atmosphere conditions a linkage, or other extra-planetary influences in the form of wave energy?
5, If there is a linkage between mind and matter, does this represent a affirmation of biocentrism?



Can the transpersonal ( as evidenced in the paranormal ) be, in effect personalized to where  this transcription at best can be only ruminated upon as a metaphor for which, at present we have no comparisons? As animals, we see ourselves as both Gods and Monsters and so, is it any wonder that we project these cross purposes prone to uncertainty into our projected fears which then become realities? We have an illusion that good animal \ bad animal applies to nature, wolf versus dove, spider versus butterfly..which then goes deeper into psychological iconography.
Yet we divorce ourselves under denial, and bury contradictions deeply as they directly apply to a mountain of evidence, as Gurdjieff would say, we not burying the bone alone but the dog as well.
What we pretend to be versus what we are.

Yet what I have found researching in the paranormal, no matter how deeply the observer as a functionary of society tries to bury the bone, it pops right up in the paranormal, and yet we refuse to own it...it is a god or a monster invisible to us!.

No, it's not..take a look around you.

We lie through our teeth culturally and then when a nasty metaphor pops up, it's "them" not me.

A relationship where the experiential listener is so provincial as to be illiterate? Yet we have explanations of euclidean right angles that mash the ill fitting into a ludicrous pose that only reflects the human condition as a tragicomedy. Demons and Angels. the binary of mythologies. Yet these same behavioral models dominate our projections superimposed onto the unknown whether we are Dr Hawking or theologists. Is it any wonder that when this cultural containment system programs an implicate ordering, we get monsters, gods, and deformed impulses..or worse to domesticate them by giving them a term we ourselves do not fully understand the implications of?

Is any answer better than no answer?

"Half the people in the world think that the metaphors of their religious traditions, for example, are facts. And the other half contends that they are not facts at all. As a result we have people who consider themselves believers because they accept metaphors as facts, and we have others who classify themselves as atheists because they think religious metaphors are lies."
— Joseph Campbell (Thou Art That: Transforming Religious Metaphor)

Every one of these other rooms of consciousness are non-human, of other kingdoms or species and yet we are so profoundly connected to them as a living system of differentiation that is so obvious, however, at the boundary layer of a fractal blooming in a holographic dream scape, we appear to be unique, and this psychology of "uniqueness" has led us into a stark dead end, fearful and paranoiac.

This state of disassociation is profound, locked by a behavioral-ism of software prone to uploading and downloading errors, viruses and trojan horses that have been incorporated for centuries into our operating platform as tool makers and mimics who have divorced themselves from reality. When will nature reboot this situation? It has in the past within this living system we inhabit.

I have been thinking about my friend a lot lately, one I have never met personally who dwells between the possible and the delimited, between those things we can see and directly experience and those we can yet visualize concretely in the provinces of the mind we call imaging or worse, imagination. From Borge's Library of Babel she weaves illustrations of our relationships with that which is yet to be materialized and yet, simultaneously, the fictional portrays the truisms we cannot see in what we say is our variant of consensus reality. 1,001 Arabian Nights and the study of the paranormal seems to be largely of imaging the invisible with our own stilted models of predictability. What returns as feedback are largely parodies of our own imaging, that not surprisingly perhaps are unpredictable with an instability that matches note for note our own buried uncertainty and lack of understanding and instability, which we hide from public view either as institutionalized or indirectly worshiped.

Giving divine perfection seemingly frozen in eternity, the contradictory cross purposes of human attributes seems to have an anthropomorphic wish list attached to it. Is the invisible a phenomenon something to be feared or containerized, or if we are unconsciously manipulating it are we programming contradiction in and getting contradiction out?


The sentence "how things work" is simply outdated as is our language. Science has shown there are no "things" that are not living embodiments of the invisible, and yet we characterize them as stable objectification when nothing is so stable, lest it collapses under it's own inability to change. To say that Ufology has to rid itself of old language, old monarchical conceptual models of behavior, otherwise it will continue to de-evolve into self parody, a crank's paradise is understated. The phenomenon is so complex that the continued applications of rhetoric only obscures the subject further, to the point where the interactive dynamics of it become secondary to a politic of sociology.

What may disappoint many is that neither gods or monsters are responsible for  the relationships between string theory, the multidimensional geometry of music and the manifestation of quantum effects that are akin to an unknown resonance tied to consciousness.

"And these little things may not seem like much but after a while they take you off on a direction where you may be a long way off from what other people have been thinking about." - Rodger Penrose




Last night, at 2:45 am, I was awakened by a very loud female voice calling my name. "Bruce !! "Being half awakened, without thinking, I responded aloud with "what!?" Indeed what, or more importantly, Why? As a result, this morning I wondered as I wandered in my routines, ruminating on the impracticality of the paranormal. Perhaps as a tool maker, perhaps as a character in someone else's fictions that illustrate my own plight of ignorance in these matters. She woke me up as a analogical symbolism?

I don't pretend to know.

"Surrealism will usher you into death, which is a secret society. It will glove your hand, burying therein the profound M with which the word Memory begins."
-Andre Breton

Why do some events have no correspondence to the lithography of consensus memory? "They" as such, seemingly play with memory, like an artist rather than a scientist. Making lamps out of ice cubes. The twist of metaphors in the admixture of contexts, neither here nor there, as a pointillism of an unknown fabric being woven as a type this.

The opening cannot be seen that exists between the heart and the mind, is incommensurable by my own experiential testimony, a tale that reads between the words, between the lines of any causal theory I could muster on my best day. A world proclamation of ignorance...wrought by the apparent holes in our psychic clothing.

As the physicist F David Peat observed synchronicity may be a flaw in the fabric of our conceptual models, as much as our holographic capacity to create three dimensional objects out of the resonance of synapses, may all lead back to spacial relations that have no linearity, no human narrative plot.

We insert ourselves as protagonists but then what is the self referential definition of a human that does not rely on the constraints of language, a cybernetic air show where our semiotics do loop to loops, as a superior intelligence may look on with astonished awe.

I have no doubts that it is reasonable to suspect, at the heart of the material as plotted by our animal senses is a infinitude of invisible realities that fashion what we take the credit for. It all may come down to a simple question. How do we imagine the invisible? Even the most ardent proponents of rationalism and empirical reality do this ceaselessly, lest we forget this very human superimposition of the unformed..
This is not a function of government and yet behind the scenes, it plays an overwhelming role in social politics through the scrim of warring rhetoric and propaganda that transfers into empirical corpses.

Are we all living in a world based on the denial of uncertainty, of a present whose roots are in the memory of language as applied to thought, and yet what lies behind this operating platform that is invisible and yet whose effects can be seen? Is the search of the paranormal a search for an analogy for ourselves that is transpersonal?

I think, to a large extent, this is so.

Monday, March 21, 2011

The Impracticable and The Paranormal and Nice Clothes.


Of Washing Machines and The Internet Age

As a tool creating species and a  user of tools, practicality is a biological constraint of circumstance in one respect and in another, when either emerging or being immersed in the paranormal, the biological urge that is one of the trick bags of the mind, the superimposition of projecting our purposes onto the strange is such a strong imprint, that has me and perhaps yourself entangled up to our knees.

The imaginary puppetry of the personality cannot resist grabbing onto the tree to pull down a harvest of bananas as a sort of food for the game of engaging one realm onto another. Making shirts out of belief or even seeking belief as a biological imperative. Nice shirt, nice clothes while dodging uncertainty. Oh, you got that nice clean blouse dirty or getting a tear in your pants while dodging slings and arrows. The paranormal as a testing facility for the impractical, versus the scripts we prefer. I like chocolate and hate asparagus.  The boss calls you in. "Who made that decision?" Er, no one, it's just  there or here or a preference, not really a conscious choice as it were.. the trickster masked as choice in a garden of delights that also frames the unpalatable perhaps at times as impractical, non-usable, a waste of time...non productive in the lens of utility, purposeful behaviors and the like..toward "what nice clothes we have on"..you have good taste, or the binary of it's shabby sheen, or to think to oneself, that man or woman has no taste. 


Behind all this is a mystery as they say wrapped in a enigma, and our poses before it's mirror that seemingly wash away, and scrub clean those nasty grass stains.  The binary of believer and the skeptic as a motor, a dynamo that produces a heat engine of the uncertain. We hang onto our hats it's a bumpy ride. Others fall off, some become evangelicals of the practical imposed on the impractical, domesticating uncertainty.

Call this a fashion statement.

Monday, March 14, 2011

The False Mirror and The Fear of Exposure

In the last post which revolved around the issues of a possible long term experimentation to monitor and investigate the nature of human sentience by creating effects and then measuring them to analyze the general behaviors of our species in several aspects, one important marker of this possibility is that our species fate and nature is largely dependent on the nature of the living systems we are entangled within. Can we say that nature does not grant amnesty to those political prisoners of the mind, who have securely locked themselves into the right angles of a geometry to avoid uncertainty?  


Obviously, the faster we process information, the more rich and complex our models or glosses — our reality-tunnels — will become. Resistance to new information, however, has a strong neurological foundation in all animals, as indicated by studies of imprinting and conditioning. Most animals, including most domesticated primates (humans) show a truly staggering ability to "ignore" certain kinds of information — that which does not "fit" their imprinted/conditioned reality-tunnel. We generally call this "conservatism" or "stupidity", but it appears in all parts of the political spectrum, and in learned societies as well as in the Ku Klux Klan.      - Robert Anton Wilson ,Quantum Psychology

 The shock of birth as a disorienting recognition, the amnesia of transiting within this shock, the loss or recovery of a memory entangled within that of a larger nature, the hypnosis of orientation by the substitutions of language, the loss of potentiality to explore this new found land when all of those around us are in the throes of experiencing this transient state upside down, much like an addiction of certainties substituted for chaos, the fear of unpredictability, of being here without our consent.Of quasi human Gods and conditioning, the binaries of predetermined choices.The navigation of lunacies posed as propagandist ploys toward an abstracted productivity predicated on clinging to a illusion of control when there is none.


Nature itself being above all else a innovator and an experiment in of itself whose strategies include differentiation by mutation, the relationships in the codependency of all being reciprocally eaten as it eats, Then there is the subtext behind evolution and the nature of our living systems. If we include sentience as a living system, is it then not prone to mutation as well? This is the deeper strata of the many facets of what we term the paranormal, whether it is PSI, the abduction phenomenon or yes, the UFO phenomenon.

"The vice named surrealism is the immoderate and impassioned use of the stupefacient image or rather of the uncontrolled provocation of the image for its own sake and for the element of unpredictable perturbation and of metamorphosis which it introduces into the domain of representation; for each image on each occasion forces you to revise the entire Universe."
LOUIS ARAGON, Paris Peasant

When I began writing on this topic, I was in a minority regarding the linkage between various caricaturisations of paranormal phenomenon as having shared roots, which is the nature of sentience itself which the larger paranormal community always manages to largely ignore as if the observer were not equally entangled with what is observed.  The division between inner and outer experience as I wrote in the last post "The Subject of Objects" leads one to look for substitutions and stand in's for the nature of not only ourselves, but the nature of living systems.

We would perhaps prefer Ognar from Planet X than to peer into the structural framework of egotism, which if all phenomenon eats as it is eaten, well, perhaps it is time the ego itself becomes food to be, in an evolutionary sense, digested. No agency can accomplish this for us except through nature which may be the truism of the old axiom either pay now or pay later. In one scenario perhaps there is a career and by sidestepping the issue, there is none but through the mutation of the smaller by the larger if you will, the larger living systems of the earth. I am not referring to growing new limbs or becoming miniaturized but being rendered as a equally psychic organism, that may either be placed in a state of non lethal disassociation, or be prompted to revisit the rules of existence, as we are food as well as being carnivorous in a psychic sense.

"Among those who do not comprehend surrealism are people who look upon the real as verifiable, as something to be checked against past experience or observation. These individuals fail to see that for the surrealist the dimensions of the real cannot be gauged by reference to the familiar. So far as the real appears to have limits, they are foisted upon it by the mental, emotional, and imaginative limitations of spectators accustomed to measure the possible by the already known. For this reason, surrealism and many of its contemporary opponents remained inevitably at loggerheads. The one group insisted on estimating the scope of reality by its possibilities. The other condemned the real to be repetitive of what the past had shown them."
JOHN HERBERT MATTHEWS, The Surrealist Mind

The health of a living planetary system over rides the hierarchy of  any given species within it as to it's importance as an existential manifestation of differentiation in regard to the needs of the system's health which is becoming dire, and in need if you will of a coping strategy which may entail the mutation of our sentience. We have seen recently, the dangers of underestimating the nature of our living systems when using the artifice of utility versus coherence, the existential ego versus the inter-dependent nature of existence. Ghosts depend on us, and we, in a deep sense, are ourselves ghosts who question the existence of ghosts.  The false mirror.


How odd.  As I have grown older and have become less vulnerable to our species propaganda concerning it's avoidance of exposing itself as to it's own nature and seeking stand in's to do the heavy lifting which avoids eating the I, I see the consequences of self referential exploration of the non human world which absolutely surrounds us 24/7...and so I ask myself, are we mature enough to live with uncertainty and will we destroy ourselves rather than face ourselves..the issues of addiction rise to the fore, utility of the rationalizations seem to be in the process of what is akin to pulling the rug out from under us intentionally, but we seem to be in the throes of building deeper moats simultaneously. In my last vision, if you will, I saw that we would be horrified to see ourselves as we actually are. Perhaps nature is providing the cues in addition to pulling us toward the extraordinary to see the paranormality of our alleged truisms. Mutation of the observer.  We do not know what we do not know despite our best efforts at dancing around  our own unknown nature..

Saturday, March 12, 2011

The Subject of Objects

 Preface
Imagine that want to learn about the dynamics of an unknown series of manifestations that also have a material basis without any prior exposure to their existence in any form. Would it require a long term study of probabilities rather than developing a hypothesis beforehand? Let us also imagine a fluid dynamic that is codependent on several levels of parallel processing. Do you stand around and wait for the correct circumstance to arrange itself to examine the specific attributes of an aggregate sum? You might have a very long wait. Do you attempt varying levels of active rather than passive experimentation to determine the potentialities and probabilities of this locus of manifestations by indirectly or directly probing the attributes of this unknown dynamic as a fluid process?  Would it entail more than one level of this probing of behavioral characteristics?
Would it require a stimulus that compares the internal organization of this manifestation in reaction to a variety of markers, designed to test the parameters of this dynamic?

This post is about the possibility that not all interest in the object of a subject from a non human perspective requires any investment whatsoever in an outcome, which is difficult for us to imagine. If we look at various phenomenon we seem to view certain subjects with a vested outcome in mind. At the more extreme level this becomes a belief without any moderating self skepticism. Of course what we require and what we need are often at cross purposes when evaluating the unknown. What is choice upon a predetermined modality? Can that modality be probed behaviorally? What if the experimenter requires nothing of a utility from the subject other than to learn of it's nature? Again we have technological science but a more advanced species may not require vested resources but rather simply knowledge. If you will, knowledge for knowledge's sake. Remember we are linked immersed and operate in a global living system where one fractal influences the other. However, what of other worlds where we have absolutely nothing to gain from a more primitive or highly strange manifestation other than to learn of it's nature, precisely because it is strange to us?

Perhaps in the end, this is not surprisingly, a story of the scrim of egoism, of possession, ownership and tampering, mine to alter as it were.  Yet from another perspective can this experimentation or any be conducted without an end game in mind? Since the arrival of technological science applied to the philosophy of exploration the vast majority of folks (I suspect ) find science and technology in the philosophy of utility as an aim, and cannot imagine a science of philosophy these days. Of course, as in the past, a lot of verbiage could be invested as to the scrim of "I" but for now imagine a creature without this misdirection of being..what would they find, and how would they find "it"?

 The Stimulus and The Effect.
How do we probe the physiological and psychological states that a human subject creates as a reactive posture, in terms of experimenting with non verbal communication directed at them ,to provoke these states so we may study, measure and analyze them in a sociological and individual context? We are all familiar with the old saying, "monkey see, monkey do" but this may be a case of what the monkey does not do, and why. Personalizing the strange has a long history. Most of us who have studied the paranormal know the case of cargo cults appearing in the South Pacific during WW 2. Building images of control towers and faux microphones to induce the Gods of Plenty. At the same time, those exposed to the strange in a generic sense have the same propensity to develop cult like behaviors of beliefs due to the "vested interest" factor.
Waiting for a shock or a banana tablet, when perhaps none of these binary orientations arising from 2, 000 year old ideas of a monarchical universe may apply. The other side of this behaviorism arising from disassociation is to graft control, participation by agenda, seeking attention, creating self comforting conceptual models by projecting a empathy from non human nature, is certainly here among us in spades.

In some sense, we may be living through a covert variation of this regimen in a very long term study, not to measure a state in time, but a progression of orientations through the lens of both critical junctures in our history but also the development of skills. Without comparative relationships between various states, is one never had exposure to our own species, how would this be accomplished?  Verbal dialog to determine the state of a subject or subjects is prone to complex psychological defense mechanisms, however when a non verbal cue is delivered the reaction is..well, more immediate. Can a stimulus be imaginary and yet have a profound effect on the subjects? Of course it can. In the last post I was ruminating on the software that nature has programmed into various human operating systems, one of which is the gimmicks used to reproduce our species. What role does the visual play in this? Our language is based on the empirical scrim of I as a means to digest experience through the personality yet this is a clockwork that can not only program if you think about these sort of things, but also be pre-programmed.

Is that technique applicable to the study of the potential techniques used by the UFO phenomenon? Is the UFO phenomenon a variant of the imaginary monolith in the book by Stanley Clarke as utilized in the film "2001" but with a slight twist. Rather than simply acting as a quasi mechanical trigger to release a beacon by signal communications, what if our imagined monolith was interactive... designed as a sophisticated measuring device as well as monitor that provided a variety of stimulus to provoke a spectrum of reactions that could be studied and analyzed? After, all, then could we turn the tables?

Tampering: Contaminating The Contaminated
To categorize this phenomenon as an experimentation of psychological effects on human subjects when exposed and immersed in a alternate environment is perhaps a broad stroke that infers many possible scenarios, that in of themselves, create suppositions in the face of an agnostic approach, by placing the postulates of various scenarios, as the framework for investigation, that, in effect, work these issues backwards from a conclusion, which pose a dangerous contaminating superimposition of not only creating mythologies, but of creating victims by the objectification of the subject as well as the dynamic of this phenomenon, in anthropomorphic terms.   Contamination and propagandist self referential terminology ensues. When I wrote "Manchurian Abductions" some time ago last year, the various issues that arose much later from this causation, I felt were inevitable by the abdication of the scientific community toward a clear cut case of mass contamination by psychological experimentation, by parties or forces unknown, versus the contamination of human propagandists, which were so reductionist and crude in plying a " extraterrestrial agenda" in human terms to the representation of symbolic, it was as if  we gave lightning a personality.  Interestingly, the play and manipulation of fear,  arose later in other more pervasive institutional platforms , most notably echoed by Stephen Hawking in a more global context, in a act of similar albeit "vested" propaganda, which again is not a exemplification of science but ironically, a fear of the unknown, which hearkens back to our cultural origins, where opinions override the nature of reality and  nature itself.

The Shared Visual Language of Two Vehicles
One is internal and one is external. The vehicle of the atmosphere and the internal vehicle of the mind, both of which address respectively, both cultural and individuated psychology as a two pronged approach to probe by experimentation, the nature and states of our species on a ongoing basis, which requires a non contaminating obscuring, non direct approach. I have come to think with an equal amount of self skepticism, that one cannot be separated from the other.
The visual language that is a perhaps operational platform utilized as a monitoring medium, is borrowed from our non verbal semiotic matrix, that provokes, stimulates and monitors cultural and individuated reactions to a variety of stimulus. There is no direct contact in this interactive monitoring program, if it exists. Potential reasons for this active probing and determining and measuring effects of superimposing a variety of visual metaphors as probes that acts as a feedback process, may be, among several:
1. Problem Solving Skills
2. Intercommunication Skills
3. Psychological Orientation ( Denial, Mythological Conceptual Models, Stereotyping,  Rationalization processes etc

The Subtext of Ethical Treatment.
Perhaps we can call this the empathy factor, a factor that is currently being debated in our own studies of inter-species communication.

Consider that if we are the subject of a interactive probing, the unknown actors in this speculative scenario are not human and may not have a emotional perceptual basis to the valuation of the monitoring program as efficacy may be a priority. Just the facts, or in this case, the effects toward studying the potential of direct communication at some more feasible juncture. As it stands perhaps, it may be that the results as they are and have gathered are a case of the relationship between two potentials in terms of a posed uncertainty from their perspective. Would direct contact pose a greater danger than simply, put, than the danger we pose to ourselves at a critical juncture of several evolutionary trends?
Of course all of this is speculative in the face of weighing probability with a measure of self skepticism but until a more sober observation of the phenomenon in of itself both internal and external in terms of a potential linkage between the two, on a scientific basis is considered, we may be lodged in a cross purposed distinction based on locality. Of mice and men, perhaps is where the twain meet regardless of which neighborhood the experiment passes through.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Purpose and Nature

It is always fascinating to find a sociological context founded on a culture's knowledge that superimposes purpose, as we understand purpose as the manipulation of natural processes, ( tool making) onto various phenomenon using ourselves as templates that become a bi-folded mirror of the drives that drive us and the perplexity that surrounds us buried under hubris. Someone once said man's natural condition is astonishment. Of course, I have been writing about uncertainty versus outcomes, predictability versus differentiation and this morning I came across this video about Fred Hoyle's conceptual creations. A metaphor of humanity's desires, or a metaphor of a deeper condition sans technology? I thought this might be enjoyed by others.After watching this video the effects of a species too long in planetary isolation from creatures that are similar and yet not, seems an irony as we are surrounded by them that 75% of which are on the brink of a mass extinction, yet we are concerned with being the subject of a theoretical object that may manipulate us. What of nature and our superimposition upon it? Another reaction is the thought of Stephen Hawking's extraordinary warnings on direct contact..yet our own history shows that innovation of a natural dynamic, or tampering has unpredictable outcomes, yet we go down this course without a beep about self skepticism. The paranormality of the prosaic that taunts the rebellion of nature as a living system, in regard to the sustainability of our being within it's fractal differentiation. Time is perhaps counted in this.The alien may be the nature of which we are but a very small apportionment, over-layed by a mythology or a series of them that unspools through the centuries in various manifestations based on a cultural context much like the nature of the UFO tied at the kneecaps or jugular vein of our projected theories and to consciousness in consideration of it's unknown context. The questions are posed to the non local; What am I like? What do I resemble? The answers that appear remain in a transmutation of quintessence..

Postscript In Real Time
My daughter just drew my attention to CNN and their coverage of a   catastrophic wave action resulting from a earthquake, which will reach the shores of the U.S soon. The synchronicity of this in relation to what I wrote is a misfortune I wish did not occur to those in it's path. The centripetal wave of all that lives on earth and of the earth itself as a living organism quaking in it's rearrangement is perhaps the connection to other states, a strange tie that binds all things. If so, it is a portent. If not, we remain clueless and..tragically astonished.  Is this like the UFO, a compounded quanta of invisible linkages or a random speculation on my own brand of  anthropomorphism? It may be both or none of the above, yet my suspicions grow in a intuitive sense that rationality discards. Einstein versus the beach facing the sea as in the sidebar video...compounded interest and fixation, unpredictability and choice is being pressed against the glass of consensus.


Thursday, March 10, 2011

Transfixed


 In the spaces between the linearity of language, our codex of expression that has overwritten the content of sentience, the connections between the conceptual models of Gregory Bateson and Robert Anton Wilson as pathways to untangle, deconstruct and open internal, spacial holes in the fabric of our orientation toward the paranormal remain viable, as much as the work of Dr John Lilly. Call them the physicists of experiential reality as opposed to the mediums and mediumship of  our conceptual models which confuse the term with the verbs and nouns of objectification toward what are simply referents. There are no ghosts, there are no UFOs, there is no PSI phenomenon, and the relationship between the observer and the observed is always transmuted into a non verbal language of images bracketed by the programming of our software. Fixated while in a quicksand of immersion by inference and suggestion.


Deprogramming by abduction from a cult of the transfixed human species, is remarkably absent in abduction phenomenon itself, which attempts to  inject the virus of deconstruction in order to behaviorally to an end run around randomness, as the reinforcement of a script versus chaos as a comparative relationship, the patterning of  setting controls on the non local.

Suggesting is the inference of language reinforced by non verbal imagery, and the manipulation of the genetic code of semiotics, the relationship between language and it's metaphorical basis and inferences seems to have been lost in making square pegs from round holes. The bifolded mirror of comparisons as to what we might be as a test of our sentience may find it locked into self referential reflections on the nature of objectifying the insensate, the immaterial made  of a strange form of parallel processing, molded as a metaphor by the senses and how we sense the external as internal whereas the observer seeks himself or herself in the observed and ends up with a visual metaphor.


 Call it lost in translation.  Similarly, this misdirection of attention completely ignores how easily we are convinced that the objectification of experience that is driven by internal software based on language that forms the materiality of this theatrical production, can be steered, geared and designed to drive our little vehicles right off the road, thinking we are at an entrance ramp.


Reductionism is the bane of sentience, and domesticating the complexity of our personal situation into a script that influences outcomes remains, as much as the work of Lilly, Bateson and Wilson remains. What I am addressing is the self referential nature of the paranormal field that is tranfixed by outcomes while ignoring the multiplicity of source codes that we process continually by associations, hormones, enzymes, pre-synaptic gaps, signal processing and the illusions of dimensionality, the non existence of "solid objects", desire, clinging, fear..all of which in the aggregate sum have a locus of manifestation that derives from us, and without, as the root of our vehicle at a certain juncture obeys the requirements of the living system we inhabit molded by the sustainability of the planetary environment. However, things change in an evolutionary sense and we may be grounded by a certain predictability that is in our hands, or is it?


Call it transfixed by the sleight of hand that we are completely divorced from drivers, more passengers than conductors, more a creation of what we have no control over whatsoever. The wresting of control toward a faux certainty is both personal and global in a universe that is inter-dependant and co-creative rather than predictable.,it does not sit still for a portrait, yet look at the predictability of the scripts used in the paranormal field. A mismatch. Anyone who has experienced the drives from hormonal peaks or LSD, realizes in retrospect perhaps, that context is the medium from which we digest experience through the personality which is programming from without, reinforced from within, is the determinate for triangulating reality by self referential coding aided and abetted by biology which wants the production line to keep moving along. We appears as a effect not a originator, and yet we go along to get along with absolute fabrications that nature would prefer remain..up to a point and perhaps in our time we have knowledge superseding awareness, where the program that was useful to the system as a whole is now unresponsive to mutations, which the paranormal at it's locus attempts to correct errors as nature is the great experimenter, far from being perfect, the universe is as fallible as ourselves.  We have a learners permit, not a drivers license, yet we rely on 2,000 year old conceptual models in the whole, that program us to think we live in a from the top down monarchical order of set perfection that is predictable and the more we attempt to apply this as a behavioral arbiter as a programming code to translate perception as misguided mimics of a faulty conceptual language, the more we see de-coherence, cross purposing,  and compounded errors in our orientation. So....we are transfixed. When the transfixed claim objectivity, the Angels rue their errors.



As a fairy tale for adults, in order to bypass the recognition of our own position fraught with an end, we were tampered by nature to see the world upside down for the sake of reproduction rather than being terrorized by existence as a contingency, as a means rather than a purpose onto itself. However, this in of itself was an error that has proved formidable to bypass as a source code, as the playing field never remains the same for an instant, and there were unpredictable effects and outcomes. The debate in neither here nor there continues. Is it a biological solution made by genetic reconfiguration? Is it a environmental or a failure of parenting? What we experience in the paranormal is perhaps a reality that eludes us, taunts us, provokes us when the gaps between the linearity of  the semiotic programming that is our driver, when this immersion of being upside down, fails to cover that up, we go back to mistranslations, errors in perceptual configuration and become emotionally attached to our own misconceived and improvised conceptual models that create fractals of a spectrum of predictable  outcomes. The door is sealed by a default setting that we have the illusion that we control, which we do and do not at the same time between and betwixt fatalism and delimited potentiality. No matter how hard the door is knocking to tell us our house is on fire at 3am, we serve to be served in a comfort zone of being upside down versus the arduous task of righting ourselves from the patterning of consensus programming that is both biological and non materially driven where we are but passengers. All of this sounds remarkably like the issues of addiction. The lights glide over the night horizon haplessly, no amount of intervention will suffice if the addict does not come to his or her own conclusions that their behavior is beyond self destructive, it destroys the life that coincides with their own.
The transfixed speak a special language, that to a superior intelligence is fraught with incoherence, and yet if one pin is pulled out, their bridge collapses under it's own weight. What would you do should you come upon them?

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

The Royal Scam

Preface:
This is the tale of a strange locational beacon that is neither here nor there on a map. It is a place at the center of a black hole that crushes egotism without a pause, dead preferences swirl around it's circumference, vain dreams of choices in a matter that states very clearly without any provisos that either you eat the I, or it will eat you. The Vampire is a metaphysical reality of the dead. The living are elsewhere, or planning their own escapes in secret away from the addicted crying out for relief. This is a strange palace full of gilded surfaces and foul odors of decaying flesh, secret passages and dead ends. One that is hidden in plain sight. 


Drawn Toward The Locus of Manifestations.
The triangulation of a personal form of gravitational field draws one toward one dish on the menu of diversification of a common theme, or source, as we are transceivers in this personal gravitation field attracting or repelling, drawing in or being drawn toward one taste versus another as largely a matter of software, following the script or seeking confirmation of ourselves through electors, being elected, being noticed, being heard..expressing our art through various artifices, all of this to be a matter of very human psychology skating on the surface of perhaps largely pretentious choices, though the mainline of addictions, when this biological organ or that induces behavior which are in turn driven and drive the differentiation of space, or relationships that either expand or contract, wind or unwind, which may protect and be a self perpetuating odd sort of clock spring that utilizes space to create more to prevent it's own diminished apportionment. The manifestation of forms as pawns in a game of fueling an eternity vouchsafed from prying eyes.

The Stagecraft of A High Art.
The Royal Scam, and of the Humpty Dumpties of history..high performance vehicles fueled by addictions, randomness and default settings on the menu that attempt to take over the casino...parasitic mimics of evolution, bad imitations..half baked impersonations...that come and go in as many forms as biology provides...."look at that Humpty Dumpty, Man, he sure can wobble..look! out..look out!..damn. Next...bring in those swamp creatures,..give them a shot..."  All of this is played out in the context of a theater where there is no discernment between the characters on stage and those in the audience. In the cycles of civilizations much like the geological cycles, or generational cycles, or the cyclic nature of energy itself, the play is the thing, perhaps of a stagecraft that is the essence of an artistic expression, itself.


The Eating of The Eaten
To eat space itself through various digestive organs to create more.  What sort of intelligences may lie behind this royal scam? asks the devils themselves... serving on earth as a sentence pronounced by their own lack of self knowledge, gumming up the works, safely ensconced in small cellular matter, like ants on a misbegotten quest to unravel the mysteries of choice, induced by nature to dream of being elsewhere, the sheep who fence themselves to be sheared by a dynamo of a strange black sun that eats recycled forms, dead skins and illusions to create variations of itself seeking it's own nature, is this the That of a unseen reality, as a term, uncreated by form, that creates form as a mirror of exploration?



The velocity of space when traversing one state from another depending on the amount of relationships or complexities presented to the inner triangulation of perception, appears to speed up or slow down, while in the biological or planetary rotational speed as it's breath, or respiration of expansion and contraction  is driven by a more global differentiation, or wound spring..one watch feeds the other watch, minding the gap between them is called the possibility of sentience, perhaps.

A future evolutionary state where these various space keeping devices of form become entrained to human perception. What time it is depends on who you ask in this neighborhood as we hang on the edge of a mainspring while space eats as it is eaten to maintain some place either called Disneyland or the abode of the Immortalists.  On this rung of the spacial genome, we hang our hats on the binaries of choice while we are eaten as we consume in the stomach of the universe as no more than perhaps enzymes. Shhh..not in front of the children. They may lose interest in their indoctrination or worse, abdicate their roles in the royal scam. A game of rewards and punishments locked into a binary codex to feed a furnace of forms.



In this.. I dissent, in that choice is so rare a element in our metallurgy, it becomes more a hypothetical than a given. We prefer the scrim of choice on our menu as a bifolded sort of buffer, a mirror or a pamphlet or timetable of arrivals and departures in our gravitational field against the clashing and thrashing that accompanies space, the orbital rotation of clocks, the demarcations of or if you will, of time falling in a randomness of preselected potential outcomes that are limited by the vehicles at hand.  Take your pick.



It seems in terms of complexities in the human information field there is an unrecognized dynamic in that the more choices, we are presented, the less decisive we become, as if the capacity to maintain our own illusionary objectivity is stripped away and we become immersed in a more sincere state of not being able to organize ourselves out of a paper bag, as we spend more energy concerned with controlling outcomes, than recognizing we may have no choice in certain matters as a community of who clings fast to choice, certainty and control of a destiny whose end has already occurred yet in the lead\lag of space, we are on a sort of conveyor belt that feeds on itself in the throes of language in whose memory we briefly borrow this or that as a faux orientation of ourselves among relationships between objects that provide the relativity of inner space or time, when there is none to be spared but for the workings of the biological software we have been grafted onto, the mainspring of an infinitude of watches.



Call this post perhaps a rebellion against a more global nature that has in of itself rebelled against chaos in a game of cross purposes, poised as a menu. The cartoon of programmed behaviors masked as choice that require tampering is an existential wound that announces....

The Self Destruct Button of Spacial Relations.

http://www.parapolitical.com/post/3630920779

Expansion and contraction of the breath of the universe as measured by spacial keeping devices, material mainsprings that consume energy in a unimaginable bandwidth in order to differentiate the production of various watches, all entrained to as many dimensions as you care to count, eating as they are eaten..and so are we contracting or expanding eating more and enjoying it less? Or eating less and enjoying it more? Or is this all illusionary,? Has a self protecting circuit been tripped in spacial relations and are we the planetary switch that pulls the plug on itself? The transfer of this complex arrangement is perhaps beginning to accelerate elsewhere in our solar system to maintain the secondary windings of a primary solar transformer. Life begins elsewhere anew. The lesser and greater resurrection of space as measured by life. Play along to get along, serve to be served, a royal scam or a loophole in this contract with biology. The trees are silent. The other creatures are gone. The smoke from the missions and embassies of the casino lazily wafts overhead unseen. Empty bottles are strewn everywhere from the last binge. The madman in search of a fix rushes through the forest hither and yon asking a vital question he shout; "Have I been scammed?"


Monday, March 7, 2011

A Codex of Folds and Spirals Through Many Lives Lived As One.

  

"...a stone, a leaf, an unfound door; of a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces. Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb we did not know our mother's face; from the prison of her flesh we come into the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth. Which of us has known his brother? Which of us has looked into his father's heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone? O waste of loss, in the hot mazes, lost, among bright stars on this most weary unbright cinder, lost! Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When? O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again." _ Thomas Wolfe

"All are lunatics, but he who can analyze his delusion is called a philosopher."  
~Ambrose Bierce, Epigrams



The Spacial Variegation of One

 One of the more interesting concepts that I have explored is the personal aspects of memory, spacial relations termed time and parallel existences, or if you will simultaneous  realities of a singular life with an unlimited variety of outcomes, which first occurred to me in 1987, which my wife and I briefly discussed at that time and then off and on again over the course of our time together. The subliminal context of Descartes ghost, which is the ghost is a matter of orientation in relation to the fold of a mirror, or as that primer on the anarchy of chaos suggested, that cat is both alive and dead regardless of what your lithography of the senses in your memory portrays.The madman wanders haphazardly in the forest shouting "Rationality is the scrim of navigation!"

This concept of multiple orientations to the fractal of memory which we inhabit rather than possess, actually arose much earlier and certainly as one who does not allow credence to the personal possession of memory, other than a sleight of hand, the origination of this seed with many branches originated with the reading of the stories of Ambrose Bierce, who certainly had a very profound effect on another writer, which is Rod Serling, who went so far as to end his "Twilight Zone" series with a wonderful rendition of Bierce's "The Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge." Parallel computational relations as spacial characteristics in a singular image. A strange fabric of pointillism, a trick of the light, the crystalus of memory as a genome that differentiates as a growing organism to be absorbed by a parallelism of many lives as one lived simultaneously. Immersed in light parasitically tied by totems, we wander in the dark sea in search of land and find effects, outcomes tied at the feet to become variations of another's narrative who follows the same script without fully digesting that the mind is a stomach for the behaviors. No amount of colonic therapy eases the production of waste products, or so it seems on a day when your pet corn is stepped on.


"It's like a boulder rolling down a hill - you can watch it and talk about it and scream and say Shit! but you can't stop it. It's just a question of where it's going to go."
— Tom Wolfe (The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test)

Whether it was the theme of a burned out individual seeking a revisionist view of his past in order to influence the present or the parallelism of stepping off a moving train to debark at a alternate station in many universes that was free of conflict, or the desperate pioneer seeking water in the desert, who seeking a future in the present, who literally walks into a equivalence of a water hole though the artifice of a gas station, these are several examples of Serling expanding Beirce's themes just as Mac Tonnies expanded those of Ray Bradbury using the parallelism of ourselves having a shadow civilization wrested from The Martian Chronicles in a feat of astonishing differentiation. The camera obscura of ourselves viewed through the alien familiarity of our own imprints as a parallelism of history, the fallen refugees haunting the surface of our planet between the lines of linearity.


 All of which are the genetic strands of a imaginarium consequent to quantum physics and spacial orientations posed as non linear narratives as a counterpoint to the profound illusion that linearity rules us, which then, Kurt Vonnegut made an enormous effort to disprove our inner world conforms to this script or narrative, by the use of Bierce's pedigree.   Of course in a quantum sense, we ask, as Beckett perhaps did, what is the rubric behind the veil of tears as a spacial plot device?



I read this interesting article from Wired as I paused in writing this post which fits as a fractal in my positioning of memories of a strange sort that I have termed lithography in a previous post as it is related to the codex of an enfolded nature that we cannot directly sense that leads into a spiraling ascent toward complexity while this differentiation remains singular as a spacial locus with complex geometries..  Or not.


 I do think it is entirely reasonable we traverse parallel variants of this plot device but can only occupy one of countless outcomes as a matter of geometry which would take a book to detail. None the less I have the sense that Mac Tonnies has an alternate variant where he did not suffer that heart attack and is still writing and blogging.

http://www.wired.com/underwire/2011/02/source-code-science/

This is one of the very difficult strands in metaphysics, which is the reformulation of the past through intent which changes yet in a differentiation, creating a proverbial mutation or differentiation of one strand in the interlocking genetics of variants of many lives lived in a single moment, as it were, creating a new branch, which then brings a secretive twist to the end of time where "the dead" return to bump into us, which at the cost of a schizophrenic literary allusion,  they may already have, and they are us.

The skins of these lithographic of memory  live on and perhaps we occupy more than one. The deeper esoteric variant is that the dead rule the living, as Ouspensky observed, "losing their bones along the way."...a spacial cellular differentiation without an occupant..doing exactly what Nietzsche was wont to predict, an digital recording rather than a ongoing process, becoming a metaphysical still birth glued to an image of oneself, so firmly attached that the Gods themselves can only pass by, as this monkey rides his bicycle up and down a frozen landscape. Escape in of itself may be a destination to yet another variation, that is one petal on a lotus blossom pulled by the torrent of misplaced yet entirely rational affirmations. Given the binary of creatively embracing the self affirmative attributes of self skepticism or living one's obituary may be a false choice on the menu of lunatics. It may be neither one or the other but both. Tom Wolfe once observer that the writer's impetus in creating work is to forget while the readers impetus is to remember, and so the transfer of our genome is transfixed between the many lives, many selves lived as one each seeking the other toward a strange coherence that is well..nothing personal. Ouch, the possession of memory would have the universe in the palm of our hand.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

The Anarchy Of An Empathy Toward Life


 The last post like all of them are the notes of a diarist neither here nor there, and my recollection on the monstrous visibility on the outer surface of the dead in a strange realm that exposed the living clockwork of drives, fears,obsessions, guilt, shame and desire..all mutations that created horrific disfigurements of the body on the creatures akin to cast off skins, no longer human, yet were so human that I witnessed in that station of states, without the advantage of a mirror to see my own miasma exposed like those worn by those spirits, their abiding anguish, and the one who approached me, who provided his name...his humanity, is more than grist for the mill. It so profoundly effected me that to say I was disturbed, and words do not cover the payment for that experience. A terrible beauty, an awful lesson. Who is not such a creature? You could call this other worldly experiential shock, a pitiless exposure, and yet........ I walked away on a path underneath the archway of trees as though they were strange angels listening to me and that this reality was perhaps, however oddly, an anarchy of order, an immersion in a codex of hidden images from without, akin to a baptismal fount of spiritual blood, displaying a profound empathy, a reminder, that there is a cost to ignorance, personally and otherwise when pointing the finger at monstrosities, to cover one's own.  I sigh in this mill, and must keep walking until I reengage what was lost...what the trees know, in this metamorphosis of skin. A muttering savant with a strange vocabulary in a cathedral of light drops rocks from afar into waves, the particles of a living breath...as a banished fugitive rebelling against an encapsulation, a purgatorial strategic retreat...and in the final analysis, looking for clues in this trial of clues, buried whispers and runes. Intuitively I know that none will suffice against this world's memory of itself. All I can do is wave my little black flag as a conscientious anarchist having no allegiance except to life.  What error was wrought that I was given a choice to compound or dissect or is it none of the above, beyond the binary with no demarcations of the praises or blame we use to tattoo the other, or ourselves? "Ghosts here or there, it matters not!" he mutters to the trees. The  immortality of leaves, he thinks, appear to vanish, only to reappear as a patterned doorway going and coming without this luggage of tokens, referents and trinkets. The metaphysical skin is shed, left in the dead letter office while the imaginary , the zoology of the quantum attempts to storm the gates of certainty as an anarchy, a whisper of leaves. Creative destruction is a music unheard in the reinvention of patterning...the dinosaur to a whippoorwill.. a human to a....tree. The Green Knight in an act of spiritual chivalry emerges to engage tears, an empathy toward imagined monstrosities to remind the outcasts, there is no superiority in nature, neither in this world or others.
This too, as they say, will pass.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Movement and The Gates of Death: Of Moths and Men and Silver Bridges

"Theater of cruelty means a theater difficult and cruel for myself first of all. And, on the level of performance, it is not the cruelty we can exercise upon each other by hacking at each other's bodies, carving up our personal anatomies, or, like Assyrian emperors, sending parcels of human ears, noses, or neatly detached nostrils through the mail, but the much more terrible and necessary cruelty which things can exercise against us. We are not free. And the sky can still fall on our heads. And the theater has been created to teach us that first of all."
-Antonin Artaud


The Gates Toward Monstrosities and the Theatricality of Death
Every bridge that spans a gulf in transit requires interdependent torsional connections wherein all connections are critical to the whole. Of a bridge is well conceived as a metaphor or has a more familiar  materiality it is said to have good motion, and in all things beneath a sun have motion... whether we can perceive or conceive of this or not as a truism. Every connection is a gate to this torsional, load bearing capability in the language that is the torsional motion of energy. More metaphors arise, capacitance, resistance, the strata of language of correspondences, what the metallurgists known as alchemists utilize to go grocery shopping when building energetic bridges or gates to span psychic fabrics that a purgatory has washed clean. I stood at a gate borrowed from a medieval vault and turned to that which looked much akin to Julian Beck and we both laughed at one another's  appearance in relation to our "bumping into one another" in a arranged dream at this location and we made a pact in a microsecond not to ask one another what we were doing there ...which was no coincidence. I began, "How many gates are there in this place?" Without missing a beat he said flatly; "How many do you want?" We had a good laugh at the poignancy of this absurdity of a cipher in a third party codex...... of which we spoke of what was to most, nonsense. 
The theatrical nature of this membrane I sensed Julian had arranged as a set piece which was discouraging, and so he held out his palm and there was a small pinpoint of light that became a inflationary and organic bubble that glowed like a light stick full of swirling dust, fire fly's that swirled in a snow globe which we entered to awake in our local bistros, me in my bed to await dreams which then became monstrosities later that evening.



The Torsion of Movement By Mythologies: Jacob's Ladder and The Anarchy of Order 


Like a poorly conceived character,earlier that day I sat in the waiting room of a chiropractor's office awaiting my daughter and Neil Young's "After The Goldrush"  was the background music to which I searched for reading material and the only selection was a stack of magazines devoted to high performance automobiles, which was a superimposition arranged by the memory of "An American Implosion" where I had written of a future class warfare based on access to mobility. Solipism as a theatrical device with a third party codex. I painfully smirked. Electric cars at $40,000.00. The mirror winked. 2,000 year old mythologies, the rationale of magical thinking with a foot on the gas pedal seeking a lesser resurrection. The glory of mankind with heavy editing as this goes to press. It made me ruminate on the bickering of idealists in Ufology as chosen manna for an alien nature. The deep irony is that perhaps they already are in a way that defy's the limits of their deep seated anxieties and desires, hoisted by a variety of petards seeking some existential recognition that flap and wiggle in a vacuum. Or not. Of Porsche's, mobility, movements and vague distinctions. A silver bridge waiting to happen.



Or not. The torsion of states. personalized linkages to the rationality of human purpose. The old man waves us off again as a warning at the cutting edge of these frailties. You may bleed as everything has it's cost.

The Approach of A Descent Into The Atmospheric
My dream regarding Beck, my writing of "An American Implosion" as well as "The Possesion of Dreams" was signaled by the damping  of my two dogs various birds and cat in the interior of my house. This was a gravitational pull from the solidity of my position toward the instinctual sense of the dense center of an Earth that is a material referent, whose dense core rotates thousands and thousands of time faster in velocity than the surface upon which we live. The center of this vortex burns without heat through the strata where salts leech to form crystals fused from stone, from dirt and then to the sea, to the magnetosphere, all of which are all perhaps attributes of a  catch basin in an eddy of living connective tissues, nerve ends that writhe and turn with a movement that acquired faces. A strange motion we do not perceive. The dogs who are playful, curious and territorial would not come out of their beds, the birds were silent and the cat could not be found. All day. I looked at the ceiling as any self respecting third dimensional membrane would tied to what is preposterously "above"me which as I made this gesture, as if to myself, a metaphor, toward an atmosphere most strange in descent like a damp fog arising from a shaded valley, where sounds were muffled, locational beacons masked, sounds come from nowhere in an unusual silence I had duly noticed, from the forest of alleged objects. Something from elsewhere was somewhere, it felt thick, it felt absorbent, and oddly, somewhat sad that made the creatures in my vicinity still....beyond remarkable to as if space were being filled like pouring water into a container, and I was a fish in this bowl, neither expecting pennies from heaven or a low pressure zone. The psychic terrain of a noted physicality. Was it the spirit of Julian Beck? Or not. You decide as this is all beside the point is it not as if it were a probe into a cloud or mist, only to be determined by it's withdrawal like returning from a foreign climate.


The Catacomb Hive Of Dead Skins
I was about to begin last night, a movement toward which was signaled by three discernible movements into an unknown realm where the inner monstrosities of psychic disfigurement were worn on the surface of various membranes, like spirits of a certain gravitational weight had condensed on the surface of a admixture like a glue but not, they had glued themselves into a contingent  strata where they functioned as suffering drones driven, poised and locked in a living amber barely able to keep from dissolving into a living honeycomb of individuated stations within a state. This is no metaphor, it is a living organism like the belly of some beast I had entered into as a extra-dimensional dream. Trapped into a movement by their own volition where imagination had failed them against a incommensurable reality, frozen them into a living habitation as external masks forced to do the bidding of what they critically assumed was their nature, like a pet corn, a loved fault, a guilt, a burden of duty. I had entered a rubbish heap of discarded skins that remain behind in a half life, like radiation of a form that jelled into a many dimensioned catacomb, where I attempted to assist, perform some altruistic destination that was a product of my own pet corns, to do what? I did not know what to do but play along which buried me deeper in a amber, and one of these monstrosities approached me while dragging dead bodies from a stainless steel like floor, as if one were moving rubbish bags from a disposal unit, while others vomited, some frozen like trapped animals, some focused on their work, this motion of seeming absurdities, that smelled like various foodstuffs, sensual rewards, crowded , damp, and he turned to me and I immediately felt a poignant sensation as he walked toward me, stopping his task, and said "My name is John Newsome" as if to pin me to a board, these are human beings, although disfigured by being inside out, trapped in a thickness, a catacomb of dead skins. I am a person. I know I am here. I deserve your respect if anything. I felt  brought down several pegs. I fell off the page I was reading, circumspect and restive toward my own inside being outward or was in? it mattered not when you are exposed as a fraud.


My curiosity and discomfort made me follow throngs from there where all the routes were perambulation through this hive of habit- habitation...and in one final act I was terrified of, to be molded in a clear mask configured by wiring seen through the mold to become a product that was utilitarianism,  a form I resisted..scared to death, to the extent I awoke in another dream.


The Relativity of Death
I turned on the television on that early morning, and everyone was speaking in a foreign language, a code, a script. They were dead, or was I? Julian Beck knows, even if he borrowed this from Artaud, this living theater...and the theatricality of death, which patterns the other.. rationality at a reduced cost that always has a price tag imprinted in a genome that fills the many colors of a container with clear water.
Do what thou wilt.

"the breasts of all the women crumpled like gas bags when

neruda wrote his hymn celebrating the explosion of a hydrogen bomb by soviet authorities

children died of the blisters of ignorance for a century more when

siqueiros tried to assassinate trotsky himself a killer with gun and ice

pound shimmering his incantations to adams benito and kung prolonging the state with great translation cut in crystal

claudel slaying tupĂ­ guaranĂ­ as he flourished cultured documents and pearls in rio de janeiro when he served france as ambassador to brazil

melville served by looking for contraband as he worked in the customs house how many taxes did he requite how many pillars of the state did he cement in place tell me tell me tell me stone

spenser serving the faerie queene as a colonial secretary in ireland sinking the irish back for ten times forty years no less under the beau monde’s brack

seneca served by advising nero on how to strengthen the state with philosophy’s accomplishments

aeschylus served slaying persians at marathon and salamis

aristotle served as tutor putting visions of trigonometrics in alexander’s head

dali and eliot served crowning monarchs with their gold

wallace stevens served as insurance company executive making poems out of profits

euclides da cunha served as army captain baritoning troops

and even d h lawrence served praising the unique potential of a king

these are the epics of western culture
these are the flutes of china and the east

everything must be rewritten then

goethe served as a member of the weimar council of state and condemned even to death even to death

this is the saga of the state which is served

even to death"

-Julian Beck

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

The Possession of Memory


The Recapitulation of The Quantum
The triangulation of our spacial orientation as divided from the whole is a marvelous invention of compounded referents that the admirers of chaos would remark to us as a local rube as to passer-bys in a provincial setting, "Look here buddy just because you see a pattern here, does not mean you are not lost." The familiarity of ourselves in relation to the nature of the recollection of referents does not mean we possess a map as to what it may be we are composed by and from, let alone, where we are.

Perhaps human sentience requires an exorcist.

The local madman proclaims as we walk away in disgust "You did not invent yourself and yet you imagine you did.. so you have no idea where you are, do you?" Smart ass.   Where we come from, it's impolitic to call a bluff. The disambiguation of a knot calls forth a snort from the gentleman holding a winning hand in the midst of a dream with stake holders.

To the Non Human, Welcome to Earth and keep your opinions to yourself and you will find no problems here to speak of. To get along, we go along, if you catch my drift..there are no options to the historical record unless you are Ambrose Bierce or Weldon Kees.


In the last post, I ruminated on reality being possibly composed more as an artists canvas, a subjectivity of memory applied to the mediums at hand, that utilizes relations as brush strokes, creating a portrait of potentiality itself, metamorphosing them as as a transformative, living diorama, a canvas of expression and this capability plays with the genome of material memory that the paranormal holds sway upon this, rearranging recombinant relations through ourselves as sleeping mediums.  Whom or What owns this memory? Then again, define ownership. Is use ownership, or is the attachment of language as a mimic of memory taken possession of memory itself, yet this sleight of hand bears no relation whatsoever to the reality of realities. Follow the language into the genome of possession from one localized habitat to another. In one sense of the true relativity of language as a barometer of sentience, the dogs and dolphins know more than i do in the constraints of this linearity encapsulated by symbols as referents. Round pegs in the habitation of seeking square holes for expression. Walk on to the strange using foundational techniques to do pushups while wrestling with the non human with a borrowed face. Another town, another story altogether in this here universe. The drifter amongst binaries in search of a triangulation knowing there is no free lunch.

In this perhaps we truly own absolutely nothing from the personal confabulations to the historical record. In this post we examine the illusion that we own reality rather than being a borrower, a collector, a curator of what could best be called the artifacts of a high art that is simply put, that has migrated from elsewhere to somewhere, depending on where the king hangs his new clothes. Recollection is an apt word, perhaps a key word in regard to sentience, and how our working definitions of such may require redefining.

The Fractals of Memory
 There are perhaps no ghosts, no UFO's, no strange creatures upon the Earth that we do not ourselves call forth which is stranger than most considerations put forth as postulates.
The observer as a medium of memory, a quality of memory that is the constituent fractal creating more and more space in it's differentiation, where the inside meets the outside, is neither here nor there, which is why we trip over our shoes when performing this ballet.  In the parallel strata of relations, spacial orientation is posited by sleights of hand. We may be ourselves neither here nor there.

Memory is perhaps a genome that the Universes utilizes as fractal strands that enfold upon themselves between the pulses of it's life and death and reconstitution when we consider we carry the inheritance of the dead in our blood which is why the meta-physicians place such a high valuation upon it that the unwise sacrificed it long ago. The memory of the essence of life which we pass through on our way elsewhere. None of which is by our own volition or origin as the somatic is borrowed perhaps so is the capability to recollect, to borrow, to refashion memory as the paranormal does in a astonishing act of mediumship that we ourselves act out every moment within a moment. We ourselves own nothing of which we fashion ourselves as projections of a certain predetermined orientation set by language. Or not.
  
The Reconstitution of The Body of The Universe
It is not so strange to consider that the universe reconstitutes itself through our memory as a fractal of it's own and this relation of a universe that is not linear lends itself to what I think it may be akin to a pulsation, if you will rather than a crude explosion leading to nothing, and we being a cell in the sentience of matter as in all things co-joined to one another, whether we are dead or alive might be a matter of relativity as the universe itself is never the same twice as are relations in of themselves never the same twice, perhaps similar but not exact replications of memory. The origin of the universe, as someone said must account for sentience. If so then the recollection of memory as well as a spiraling genome that folds in on itself by the transformation of it's memory.

Language As a Mimic of Memory
You are human but you are not the same human as I or for that matter, who you were ten minutes ago. There is no fixation of positioning in this fluidity of memory which we are passing through although we believe with a deep conviction that we possess it as an objectification, no memory is truly our own perhaps. "This is mine because I said so" The Universe may think otherwise.


The agencies of ownership are foundational to the mimic of memory which is language, the ownership of words to the objectification of fixed assets which we personalise. We are perhaps mediums of a memory created for us through us that we have no possession of although as the genome of the somatic tells us we can relive death and life itself by this strand in the craftsmanship of the non human. This is the subconscious root that we are distinct and yet related, strange to one another as diatoms to popcorn, but yet what lies beneath our stave's, notes, the treble clefs of this music of the spheres is the capability to relive the dead, the past, reinvent it if we may chose or do so as a sleight of hand in the common denominator of memory  that language mimics as a poor relation.

Ghost Memories
Does any of this bear on the relationship of where the genome lies for the habitation of ghosts as a nature of memory? This I think I will leave for the next post, and the simulation of the persona as the software that is at the heart of space itself, the signifier and the signified are referents of relations that asks the question of the chicken or the egg leading to a certain infamous cat as an exercise in physics that falls on the sword of rationality. We bump and crash against the barriers to ourselves we have set by default. The old man sighs.  Are we ghosts as mediums of referents? And if we are ghosts, borrowers and collectors with no possessions, living in a sort of poverty, then what are "they"? What is the difference in sentience between a classic ghost and the one in the biologic machine as a living system? Perhaps we should tinker with this file cabinet, throw it off the roof..as if we had a choice in these matters..non local data drives the illusion of movement as the observer rewinds the post editorial software of memory,attempting to correct an error in over riding the programming language... while we chase the monkeys on bicycles through the jungle .. roll the credits..