Sketches of Other Worlds

Dreams, Visions and Experiential Anomalies;
Escher, Carroll and Yours Truly

Imaging and imagination entangled in the loom of dreams where rigid architectures are the loose puzzle pieces of other possibilities...or as one wag put it…”to think in other categories” is an alternatively open window to other worlds that exist in coinciding parallels.

Recombinant by a deconstructive point of view, this state of flux seemingly re-engineers our mental drive trains and transmissions, differential gears of spacetime by repositioning the markers we have set down between A and B.

To synthesize while everything ...................we are involved with is a simulation of yet something else.

“If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?”

― Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass


What of those creatures in other worlds, whether it is the dead dreaming of life, the extraterrestrial who navigates realities knowing they are dreams, or a dolphin who communicates with images based on sound alone?

Alan Watts toward the end of his own tether though that the physicality of reality was based on a multitude of simulation programs entangled in one another, much like Gurdjieff’s concept of self awareness which is counted by the number of programs running.

Instinct, intellect, somatic functioning, emotions, imaging etc all simulations continually attenuating feedback in relation to ( if Watts was correct) the simulations of parallel programming...... as a multi-phased operating system, and yet we suspect there’s more to this than simply computation, or simply zombie like reactive knee jerks,........... and it may be that sleep and the isthmus of dreaming is a counterpunctual counterweight and what is in the middle is something that has no name that is in the process of becoming more self aware in the sense of orientation...... that goes beyond tagging a name on a child or defining ourselves by how we process this or that.

“I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

The simulating programming of a worm, coinciding motion with instinct, or a canine with an emotional program added toward a development of intellect..all very convenient and observable shells of a larger processing, wherein the goal is everything that has physicality becomes self aware, as the whole that encompasses all forms grows in it’s aggregate sum in this entanglement of cross talking simulations probing one another’s programming simulations….to become what is unimaginable as the proverbial bees gather the nectar of information back to a hive that has no specific outcome in mind and is the furthest imaginable destination beyond the parochial frames of a monarchy within the multiverses we can summon in our minds eye.

“Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle.” 

― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

I suppose that Lewis Carroll as a mathematician created his Grimm's fairy tale in meta-language as part of a computational simulation of questions that questioned any answer as to open a window of these other worlds as a subterfuge buried in a chocolate box much like the sweets of knowledge as conceived in a revelation as imagined by John who likened the experience of knowledge as a sweet confection leaving a bitter aftertaste.

Yet, to disdain by a reactive knee jerk what cannot be bought in the marketplace by accruing a debt that must be paid in full before exiting..seems premature in an ironic twist that we lack enough information to create a sort of baggage we have to lug around. Yet some buy this or that. Some are collectors, some are hoarders, some are building castles in the air, some are busy building moats, some are creating arks

We duck into an alley and have walked off of the known edges of our world onto others...to redefine ourselves by comparison by the examples set for us. Indeed we create sketches of other worlds..to what end? Is the point to connect all the dots? Is the pretense of knowledge more valuable than an open window by which we sketch other possibilities, or do we learn to walk and chew gum at the same time, all the time knowing none of this is an end onto itself?

It might be that the anti-structural may prove to be our saving grace in the end, or as the Sufi would say....to believe in unseen worlds. Or to be in the world and not be of it.

Jonah just won't learn that the known world does not operate by his rules and in his evangelical fever to make things predictable for himself within a world that is stubbornly refusing to conform to his control, he sets out with an impetus that he despises everything about his fellow creatures..really dislikes them.

He manages to go off from land among those who fish for the unknowable with the aim in mind to convert them into his way of thinking and they are the perfect captive audience. He begins to harangue them constantly whilst they are diligently working to catch what can be consumed from the natural world, and catching fish is unpredictable and so Jonah continually rubs them the wrong way.

In the midst of a particularly difficult day Jonah's hectoring reaches a zenith and the crew has had enough and throws him into this proverbial sea, where he becomes a fish that is swallowed by the largest imaginable fish and he is given what could be called an enforced meditation....by an unanticipated outcome created by his own rigidly held crusade that is also a pathology...as we view the historical world in this context of cyclic determinism as a form of fads that vanish only to reappear as mirages.

“If everybody minded their own business, the world would go around a great deal faster than it does.”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

And so the tape reaches a blunt edge and whirls around the spindle and we walk away none the wiser but for our knowing less by knowing more has a silence surrounding it that lets in the sound of the aviary the songs of praise sung by a choir, from up in the branches of a tree..as the light from a distant star folds colors into a painting without the benefit of hands...which perhaps is a sketch in of itself.