Category Archives: Photonic Physics .. the post-Quantum World

Clee Fanger, galactic reporter, intrepid

Posted on by
4

<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office” /> Clee Fanger,  galactic reporter, intrepid

   

   Clee Fanger was the most renowned intergalactic reporter in the InterInfinitys. A rabid and unabashable antitheist, she reported with a pietydar of unrhomboided keenness. Her perspicacity was sweatless, elegant, earnest, and ineluctable. She had a tantalizing gossip column with frequent breaking tids on string theory and dark matter, the 90% of stuff that has got to be there but about which they know the Big Nada. 

   Clee Fanger grokked down realityade and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “On Vuravura,” she grinned with wild obsidian surmise, “they limit how much realityade you are allowed to grok.

image

Jeegoo grokkers are flayed, dismayed, betrayed. Because people have amnesia between the dream of the day and the dream of the night, the gate of pearl and the gate of onyx, they are heavy with unnecessary secrets.
   “Puisque les gens ont l'amnésie entre le rêve du jour et le rêve de la nuit, la porte de l'onyx et la porte de la perle, ils sont lourds avec des secrets inutiles.
   “Porque la gente tiene olvidarse entre el sueño <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />del día y el sueño de la noche, la puerta del onyx y la puerta de la perla, son pesados con secretos innecesarios.

    “Everything that wakes on the brilliant Jeegoo is the sun star's extravagant dream, its panpotent light, legerdesun, so tricksy — dirt, water, un poco cunning pattern, the sun the sun, and presto appears the daffodil, the panther, and marmalade.

    “So they could and should honor the sun which is the beat of their heart, but they went and got all weird and wan and went inside where their fierceness died. 

    “Wizards watch the sky and keep the stones, immense, erect. They count the days and measure the shadows. The meager madness of the obedient will ebb, and the abundance of the sun's profligate gifts will be restored in story and in constant celebration.

image

 You'll remember that you are immersed in a glory, a sea of fire.  The sun will be sung.”

 

..for digrif 12.24.06


…………<^>…………
notes:
Vuravura & Jeegoo are names for Earth;
…………<^>…………
images
pink cliffs, MarkL, gallery 1050;
changing sun, under the sun acts up, istp nasa hot pics;
dancing flares, riti, 9:The Sun;
……..……<^>………..…..
If you know or are an agent, editor, publisher person who would handle this kind of pogblogian material, please let me know at .. pogblog@yahoo.com. Please put ‘agent’ in the subject line.
………….<^>……………..
It’s an honor to have you visit pogblog. Do comment.
…………….<^>……………..
Check pogblog’s Glossary for brave & nefarious words.
copyright pogblog 2005..2006 all rights reserved
Please send pogblog’s link to your friends:http://pogblog.blogharbor.com   
13 The Road . Eb . Grass . Rattlesnake Tooth . South . tzol 52  12.25.06 mon
758 days/2y27d left of the pipsqueak despotism/1537  
ffwofw1201§26d2h33m11s33.84g3.25g;
mozart..9.77g 
..
the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..
.. let’s spend the $820,000 per minute Military Budget on education instead
………….<^>…………….

The Lapidary View

Posted on by
4

The Lapidary View

<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office” /> 

    My dear Colin Wilson, a brilliant surveyor of human possibility, often speaks of the exhilarating ‘hawk’s eye view’ which liberates us to our purposeful strengths. For myself, I have settled upon the Lapidary View. I like to treat everything as if it were a jewel. Or rather more shockedly, sudden, surprised – everything as geode.

   The first time I saw a geode, I fainted. The idea that in that apparently dreary rock gleamed this staggering dazzle of crystals like a cave a wizard must live in goaded my heart and brain to permanent agog. I knew at once that the geode was one of these ravishing runes the multiverse loves to spring on you. “Dja get it? Did you get it?” Well, it’d be tough to miss the delectable pagan message of the burning geode. “Everything is jeweled inside, dumbbell, if you crack it open and notice.”

    The second factor for sustainable surprise is the necessary separation of the dependable, the trustworthy, the adorable world from the traitorous tho (sometimes often occasionally) interesting realm of people. The world, grokked, cannot be boring – only people and their hideous and petty betrayals, the dread thereof or the breath-taken recovery from.

    I am happy to shapeshiftilly fling my perception into the dangerous brute beauty of a hawk, as <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />Hopkins might have it, but the littler attention is essential for daily and constant surprise.

image
                flowerphotographer roth

The druid secret is to read all those darn oak leaves, a true unlieable text with their audio book of whispered gossip, zephyr-flung. We are immersed in the 3-D, 10-D runes of the great immersion language of the universe.

   I prefer to call the uni-verse, the multi-verse, the many-poem place.  This poetical existence, this living devotedly, deftly alert, tigerfirefierce within the daring, darling poem is untarnishable delight. Very merry. One herein lives on dappled glory – you have the companionship of the whole world.

    This deep sustenance allows forays into the treacherous Land of People as subjects. (People as objets are a whirl & blur, a fine ballet.) What protects you in this plutonium-fraught people environment is the animist strength of the very dust and the languor of the willow, ever faithful, thy sword obsidian humor, your armor the affection of all your utter pals, like Air who never entertains despair.

   The difference between people and the Radiant Daily is that the Radiant is always pure of intent. If it is a sabertooth tiger from the night forest, it may eat you, but it doesn’t deceive you. It is what it is and you can discern it, learn it. People, on the other hand, may pretend to be a lamb when they are really a sabertooth. You pat the soft fleece, sweet and trusting of heart, humming a lullaby, and, crunch, you are become lunch in the sabertooth jaws. You writhe in psychic agony from the slavered pain of unspeakable betrayal.

   You say a preserving detachment is unnatural, blasphemous to the normanrockwellian creed of sentimentality, that fraudulent charade we ought in hallmarkian duty parade. Nay, chivalry itself suggested a preserving distance which allowed an amusing artifice to overlay with pearl of poetry the gruesome cruelty that deceit, if  they even bother to bother, that the beloveds will otherwise wield. Homo &/or homa deceptiens.

     I must hasten to insist that I am the last to allow least of all laud the cynical view. I am daffily baffled at the torrential antics of the human. I am fond but wary.

    Being a poeticist takes some heat off the relationship melon. Like a scientist, a poeticist discovers, studies, researches.

    So we have the untarnishable searing little joys of the lapidary view and the courteous separation of persons and naïve trust. This existential combination makes for a wildly happy and hilarious life.

    The deft attention I refer to in the sustainable surprise part of your perception life is magical in the sense of how many fascinations can be writ on the head of a pin. When you pay deft attention, you are magnemagically drawn to what you see/touch etc.  Consider dear Blake’s ‘universe in a grain of sand.’ Consider Borges’ Funes’ stark and ennui-shattering dog named Spot, named Speck, named Spark. Consider the 25 different words for snow that the Eskimos discern. Consider Keats’ wild surmise.

    Let’s start with attention itself, this precious elixir that makes you an artist in your life. Attention is a substance. You can send it out to touch apparently external objects in the way that an amoeba sends out a pseudopod or false foot. Next time you are deftly intent in noticing something, observe how your attention caresses the tree trunk or flower petals or kitten or whatever. This zephyr attention or deft attention can be sustained all of your life lucidly waking or lucidly musing or lucidly dreaming. This attention is not quite effortless – it requires just the amount of energy that keeps a butterfly from crashing into the flower it’s landing on. When you know that you can be limitlessly devout to this artistry of appreciation of the non-people world, you can, using Beauty, the 8th sense, grokkedly gaze upon your life’s scene with “wild surmise” as Keats has Cortez and his men seeing the Pacific Ocean for the first time – your heart becomes indigo, glistening, and oceanic.

    The aleph immensity and intensity of each ‘grain of geode sand’ ignites a tenderness and wonder that cannot be tarnished unless your inner hohum imbecile sets out perversely and deliberately to poison your experience with petty and putrid cynicism. Cry “Piffle” unto that lowlife thief and have the discipline to remind it that you have not yet begun to see the sea or whatever you’re perusing.

    It is very important to me to remind us that, with the slightest practice, this deft attention can be as constant as breathing and as given as breathing. Every darn thing which dwells in the many-poem place wants to preen for you. Masterpiece things like trash and topazes and all else are so used to being ignored by the semi-comatose herd that when someone notices in a lively way, it all wakes up and chatters at you like bright green parrots in the rain forest. Anyone who isn’t an animist just isn’t paying attention. It’s all chortling, clucking, caterwauling, whispering. Oh the sly gossip of the wall and of your dirty dishes.

   Certainly the great perception story of all time is Borges’ Funes the Memorious. Funes is shocked that the dog sleeping in the road at 2:15 in the sun-hot afternoon has only one name. It should have a new name at 2:14 pm and at 2:16 pm. It is this Spot Speck Spark dog that makes you sheepish that you thought you’d seen anything and could file it way as ‘seen.’

    Deft attention is the Celtic druid secret. Attention is the treasure. You always carry it with you. You are always rich beyond measure.

    We can name a few kinds of snow if  bestirred, but the Eskimos have twenty-five words for snow because they have seen it more intently and reverently.

    You learn to levitate by being besotted with the masterpiece of reality engineering in which you are immersed. You get so pleased and startled that you simply find yourself rising.

…………<^>…………

……..……<^>………..…..

If you know or are an agent, editor, publisher person who would handle this kind of pogblogian material, please let me know at .. pogblog@yahoo.com. Please put ‘agent’ in the subject line.

………….<^>……………..

It’s an honor to have you visit pogblog. Do comment.

…………….<^>……………..

Check pogblog’s Glossary for brave & nefarious words.

copyright pogblog 2005..2006 all rights reserved

Please send pogblog’s link to your friends:
http://pogblog.blogharbor.com   

12 Serpent . Chicchan . East . tzol 25  11.28.06 tues

784 days/2y1m23d left of the pipsqueak despotism/1511  

ffwofw1201§26d2h33m11s33.84g3.25g;

mozart..9.77g 

..

the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..

.. let’s spend the $820,000 per minute Military Budget on education instead

………….<^>……………. 

Dlareme Grade Planets

Posted on by
3

Notes:

Dlareme is the galactic name for the Sol planet Earth, Tierra, Vuravura, Pamint, Aarde, Zeme, Toka, Ddaear, Daidig, Zemlja, Jeegoo.

<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office” /> 

K = Kinesthetic. A = Auditory. V = Visual. G = Gustatory in context or a unit of gravity. O = Olfactory. K1 = the powerful & reliable persistence of the kinesthetic, the feeling of ‘solidity’ in a moving rather linear present moment. The K component of our dlareme experience. The persistence of the kinesthetic is the signature, the leitmotif of this dlareme realm. 

 

Dlareme Grade Planets

   Dlareme, Earth, is a masterpiece of reality engineering. Sadly, most of its religious legions, aka its religious scams, exalt the non-K so-called spiritual realms. What makes Dlareme fascinating and profound and almost unique is a quite accumulating quasi-linear experience writ in a strong persistent K – K1.

   The K Zone – think of yourself as a magic piano being played by the subtle pressures of air & its temperature as well as the internal slosh of your own blood and the dear radiant temperature of your own clever hemoglobin furnace. Keats speaks of “a fine isolated verisimilitude caught from the Penetralium of mystery.” This is all of the exquisite details of your experience which should startle you like the sudden sight of a butterfly with its preposterous stained glass wings. It’s all sudden if you’re deftly intent.

   The ‘Penetralium’ of mystery is that secret innermost part of a palace, the palace of mystery, our life. In this particular Dlareme masterpiece, all these fine isolated verisimilitudes are notes played on your enchanted piano of material awareness with a holdable treasureness that no other degree of K can invoke so sweetly or terribly or completely.

    The sin of the earth-disdaining religions is that instead of the rapt study of each darling fine isolated verisimilitude any and all of which one might adore achingly, we are exhorted to distant Heavens less ‘gross and dross.’ Piffle. K1 is the gold standard. K1 Dlareme is an achievement of reality engineering so astonishing that why your eyes don’t explode after holding one dandelion puff or dirty sock or glass of milk is beyond me. Notice your own hand, clench and unclench your hand, and stop breathing with the impossible shock of it. You could and would if you were a happy pagan undimmed by the damned pieties which rob you of the raw verve, nerve, and delicious and dainty vigor of your days.

   I have been fortunate to travel to the edges of the galaxy and back &4th. Riveting indeed. But Dlareme, our earth, our vuravura, our jeegoo is so splendid and special that I am felled with awe everysingletime I get home.

   It is true that with religion, war, greed, and patriotism, we bipeds have seriously fucked up. But there is a paradise here to honor and build and admire and tend soon enough when we quit the bizarre crap that no other place I’ve been would tolerate for three minutes. Bam into the stocks would go Darth Dick et donald, et conda, et karl, et al where they would be pelted by marshmallows until they cried, “Uncle.”

 

continued anon …

 

…………<^>…………

……..……<^>………..…..

If you know an agent, editor, publisher person who would handle this kind of pogblogian material, please let me know at .. pogblog@yahoo.com

………….<^>……………..

It’s an honor to have you visit pogblog. Do comment.

…………….<^>……………..

Check pogblog’s Glossary for brave & nefarious words.

copyright pogblog 2006 all rights reserved

Please send pogblog’s link to your friends:

http://pogblog.blogharbor.com

12 <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />Flint . Edznab . Knife . North . tzol 37  03.26.06 sun

ffwofw715§26d2h33m11s33.84g3.25g; 

..

the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..

.. let’s spend the $820,000 per minute Military Budget on education instead

………….<^>…………….

Readin', Writin', 'Rithmetic, and Dreaming

Posted on by
6

Readin', Writin', 'Rithmetic,

and Dreaming

<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office” /> 

I'm definitely an optimist in the longish term. I am convinced that the integration of DayLand & DreamLand, the cosmiNet, will re-orient our energies in a sustainable way. We'll have a 'place' where violence and aggrandizement don't kill & impoverish.

 

We'll be able to afford to be our brothers' keepers Earthside — or more elegantly in these wiser times, the keepers of our kin — bipeds, in other words.

 

Please, as you would ask your spouse, How was your day?– in the morning, set your alarm 1/2 an hour early for a mutual muse and ask her/him How were your dreams last night? We are ineluctably involved in a larger, very multi-faceted consciousness & it's time for us learn all our capacities.

 

Similarly you can ask your child at breakfast, How was your night at school? They are learning every night from a fabulous reservoir of cosmic experience, and if you attend to their TV & Books & Music, why aren't you attending to their Dreaming? (Tho, of course, they are unlikely to be 'kids' in their dreams!!)

 

There is no skill and distilled joy and fascination that will serve your child or spouse or friend better than to encourage them in active or lucid dreaming to go along with their lucid waking.

 

I recommend giving folks of any age, Dreaming True by Robert Moss, a wonderfully readable master of multiple worlds — grounded, sane, funny. (I was particularly interested to find that Harriet Tubman used lucid dreaming as you might a folded paper map to guide her Underground Railroad folks safely past the hounds and ravening overseers. Not taught to us in our history books.)

 

I know some people think Oh my life is so busy and hectic, I can’t take on any more information. Piffle. We use a trifling 10% of our brains if we’re Einstein. We have storage and comprehension to burn. Think brandy. Distilled. You’ll find dream travel vivifying as much as any possible trip to the sea side or mountain peaks. And good for the fossil fuel crisis, by the way.

 

The 90% of our brains, fallow for most, is hanging out waiting for you to wake up to your multiD, superfab, holovideo game. Sony, XBox – what jokes they are compared to the gig in your head – or full body really.

 

It is true that we will have to be prepared for an emotional calculus that we aren’t in the slightest trained to be aware of least of all grok. We must figure these 5D chess games out tho or the undertones and undertows of our DayLife will be distorted by our self-imposed blindspots. We will be compelled to develop an obsidian sense of humor as vivid as seeing, hearing, touching, tasting, smelling – obsidianing – the 11th sense, astwere. Our shuttered normanrockwell worlds will be shattered – but they are false anyway and the hum below our hearing tells us that. At some point we have to unclench our minds, get out of the cocoon, & find what we find.

 

It is the complex configurations of friendship and ‘love’ that are baffling & bone-aching to our sentimental day minds/hearts. Let’s say that things are more beautiful, but not so pretty?

 

We’re already in the adventure. A question is whether we’ll open our eyes like on the roller coaster or keep them clenched shut?

 

You have to imagine that you’re on at least three interlacing roller coasters at the same time. That’s what all those extra synapses are there to grok. It’s not harder than breathing; you just have to accept that you can breath out of the homewaters. There is a certain vertigo or discombobulation or vortexiness sometimes, but like sealegs, you get dreamlegs, and you can shift from hither to yon and back from yon to hither. Be fascinated and have fun, and you’ll be fine of fettle and mettle too.  

…………<^>…………

……..……<^>………..…..

If you know an agent, editor, publisher person who would handle this kind of pogblogian material, please let me know at .. pogblog@yahoo.com

………….<^>……………..

It’s an honor to have you visit pogblog. Do comment.

…………….<^>……………..

Check pogblog’s Glossary for brave & nefarious words.

copyright pogblog 2006 all rights reserved

Please send pogblog’s link to your friends:

http://pogblog.blogharbor.com

3 Earth . Caban . Earthquake. Heron . East . tzolkin 236 01.24.06 wed

ffwofw587§26d2h33m11s33.84g3.25g; 

..

the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..

.. let’s spend the $820,000 per minute Military Budget on education instead

………….<^>…………….

Gigaphysics: Dark Matter, Ed Witten, & Being More Rotten to Prez Bush

Posted on by
3

<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office” /> 

Gigaphysics:

Dark Matter, Ed Witten, & Being More Rotten to Prez Bush

 

It all fits in the spinning holo-jigsaw puzzle.

 

Chancelucky asked if there was an alternate reality where instead of being kinder & gentler to BushCo Ilk like I was in two recent ‘dreams’ reported on pogblog, I was actually meaner than I am in our solid-ish DayLand k1?

 

I reply:

 

There is now!

 

The advantage (?) of eternity/infinity is that there's room for whole complex alternate realities and blizzards of fragmentary ones & etc.

 

Now that you mention this ghoulishly sensible idea, presto! vrai est vrai, real is true.

 

…….<^>……..

So, let’s jonglez about some of the elements here.  

 

Here’s my letter to physicist Ed Witten re dark matter which will add to our shared vocabulary on the spherical spectrum of realities we inhabit. Holo-mauve. Holo-chartreuse. Holo-scarlet. Astwere. 

 

Dear Mr. Witten,

 

   We’ve been traveling parallel on the opposite sides of the same brane I think. Probably time to say hello. Hello.

    My magikmystery observations have been rigorous if not under the Repeatable Umbrella – which leaves out a lot of the e=mc∞ expanded truth.

   Anyhow, I made a vow when I was 7 years old studying Jung and Freud and Plato et ilk with my Princeton-graduate stepfather, John Porter. When I was 7, I was an epistemologist first, then a metaphysician. I vowed to stay alert – deftly intent – and not to discount any experience per se.

   I’ve measured and intently considered between lucid waking and lucid dreaming for the next 54 years – like a hawk above, like a mole below – watching, digging. My recent obsession has been to find the missing 90%.

   Well, of course it isn’t missing – only Science’s wrong-end of the telescope view isn’t designed to grok it. In the most simplistic way, let’s say that all of the alternate-density experiences we all have add up.

    I call this standard-shared day stuff : k1 or the primary kinesthetic, the sturdy persistent kinesthetic of Kick-the-Boulder-&-Ouch. The persistent kinesthetic, k1, is where you can repeat stuff. Because it’s persistent – ipso facto. But most of our undeniable but unrepeatable experience isn’t persistent. The physics are different which is why you all run into all this weirdness when you correctly and diligently try to account for every thing.

    Many ‘dreams’ that I’m in are as real as this one. That ‘dream stuff’ has mass. (Forgive me upfront if I mis-use your inside terms – you can fix me later.) I would say ‘dream stuff’ is an existant. If you add up all the more diaphanous but not less real, existant stuff, there’s so much of it, that you get your missing 90%. Awkwardly — because its rules are more quixotic, exotic, even erotic. I write until my fingers bleed about all this exotic physics and ethics under the rubric of photonic theory or gigaphysics — which I see as what follows quantum theory.

   My perception of beauty, say, exists. It doesn’t ‘weigh’ much but it has an impact, and in photonics it does have weight. My cat can perceive my attention and lack thereof as some kind of ‘thing.’ When I scratch the back of the couch trying to get her to attack my hand which I will pull away and I will win the game, she waits and waits, eyes wide, until my attention wavers and then boom she hits my hand and she wins – my hand is lunch. Perceiving attention as a thing and then perceiving its wavering would clearly be fabulously useful to a predator. Now that I’ve learned the trick, I can send my amoebic attention out like a pseudopod and touch things with it – it’s not unlike holo-braille.

    I think string theory or tube theory is very interesting. I think for you all to get where you want to go, you’re going to have to bite some heretical bullets. Repeatability is a crock anyhow. Things Science is permitted to putter with are pretty darned similar – good enough for practical purposes, but not truly identical.(Borges’ character Funes was offended or, better, baffled when people called the dog sleeping in the road at 2:14 in the afternoon the same name as that dog at 2:15 in the afternoon. One can only stand in the eye of that hurricane of perception; luckily the universe seldom blinks.) 

    I grew up in a very intellectually rigorous household. I never planned on having the universe, the multi-verse which I call the many-poem-place take me on such disconcerting adventures in realities. But the 7-yr-old made the promise that I have to keep about staying alert and un-prejudiced.

    Anyhow, I’d love to chat sometime about the Identified Missing 90%.

   I’m sure a lot of your colleagues are too staid. A lot of people on my side of the brane are simply wacko. For us to do trade, you & me, to have emissary visits and have you eat the native food, I’ll try to keep the worst and daffiest loonlands outside the compound as it were. I am more or less capable of rationality on demand. I’ve gone native because it’s where the wild animals are, so to speak. Who would have actually believed in crocodiles and tigers until they were actually seen by ‘reliable Europeans’?

 

Anon,

pogblog

….<^>……..

 

So, our thoughts, fantasies, & all other perceptions including memories and memories of memories & so4th careen around the multiverse invisible to most folks in this k1 dimension. These exotic existants ‘weigh’ lots less than any feather, but there are so many of them, they add up. Cf that 'one grain of sand' ain’t much (except to me 'n Blake), but a lot of these nano-boulders is a beach – stuff adds up.

 

I had never thought of being yet meaner to BushCo Ilk. I have been an Irony Extremist, but not simply meaner. As we can grok above, there’s plenty of Room if I want to add that reality. Maybe I can do a High Noon showdown with our Executive Pipsqueak? Or put him through the <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />Fargo leaf chopper & feed the mince of him to the poor dying frogs – amphibian instant kyoto karma?

…………<^>…………

…………<^>…………

jonglez = juggle;

……..……<^>………..…..

If you know an agent, editor, publisher person who would handle this kind of pogblogian material, please let me know at .. pogblog@yahoo.com

………….<^>……………..

It’s an honor to have you visit pogblog. Do comment.

…………….<^>……………..

Check pogblog’s Glossary for brave & nefarious words.

copyright pogblog 2006 all rights reserved

Please send pogblog’s link to your friends:

http://pogblog.blogharbor.com

6 Deer . Manik . West . tzol 227  01.14.06 sat 

ffwofw1009§26d2h33m11s33.84g3.25g; 

..

the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..

.. let’s spend the $820,000 per minute Military Budget on education instead

………….<^>……………

Odious George Bush et Ilk & Nicer Nancy

Posted on by
2

Odious George Bush et Ilk & Nicer Nancy

 

Why am I so nice, sensible, strategic? It’s driving me nuts.

<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office” /> 

I had the dream with George Bush I told you about where OtherLand-I was so much more civil and diplomatic and, yes, wiser, than DayLand-I am about the loathsome Present Menaces. DayLand-I  hate that odious-they are rapaciously aforethought stealing from pleasant dear ordinary people — crippling & delaying the constructive future. (The mantra: $820,000 per minute/Military Budget; additional $200,000 per minute.)  

 

To add insult to insult, I had a dream yesterday in which I was telling Nancy Reagan about the $820,000 per minute/Military Budget & etc. I was being so charming and affable. In my dream notes I said, “I was very respectful and friendly. I told her I knew people who ‘simply adored her.’” Ye gods. This is the woman who chewed each bite of food 35 chomps. Yowsa. Yet I have to say that in terms of our getting our butterier world, it’s a much better tactic than my blissed-out but self-indulgent rampaging in venom.  (She did have the guts to stand up to the Right Wing Bleats about stem-cell research.)

 

This dual consciousness of me & my dreamself is fascinating. Me & my brightness, I guess? Or me & my glistening shadow?

 

It is an odd sensation to ‘wake up’ or return to K1 – our DayLand, the Land of the persistent kinesthetic, and be still of two brains or two beings in terms of immediate action for world cooperation v. world domination. Neither of me feels like a role. I feel of a piece, yet I act in these different ways? Is there a hub of the jewel of which these intimate identities are facets?

 

…………<^>…………

……..……<^>………..…..

If you know an agent, editor, publisher person who would handle this kind of pogblogian material, please let me know at .. pogblog@yahoo.com

………….<^>……………..

It’s an honor to have you visit pogblog. Do comment.

…………….<^>……………..

Check pogblog’s Glossary for brave & nefarious words.

copyright pogblog 2006 all rights reserved

Please send pogblog’s link to your friends:

http://pogblog.blogharbor.com

5 Death . Cimi . Twins . North . tzol 226  01.13.05 fri

ffwofw577§26d2h33m11s33.84g3.25g; 

..

the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..

.. let’s spend the $820,000 per minute Military Budget on education instead

………….<^>……………

The Perception Beast

Posted on by
2

The Perception Beast

<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office” /> 

I’m interested in following my shapeshifting Perception Beast forth & back across the border from DayLand to OtherLand. I am a perception addict. The kaleidoscopic infinitude depends on being deftly intent all the time.

 

Because we only honor and teach DayLand perception in the West for the most part, our OtherLand awarenesses tend to be less willed and more sporadic when we have them at all. (Please start asking your kids, “How was <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />Dream School last night?”)

 

You can either consider my Perception Beast to be a shapeshifter or a menagerie. Vivid perception is the key that unlocks empathy, the grokking of  the pulse of the so-called Other – it is only Other so we can love it without being hopelessly narcissistic, perhaps?

 

Anyhow, in a Dream which is to me just an OtherLand experience as real or maybe realer than a trip to Safeway (except when I’m buying Butter Pecan ice cream which is as real as it gets.) In a dream, I found myself sitting in a seat in the back of a theatre and then in a seamless re-location I am sitting more over on the side nearer you. So we have seamless re-location.

 

Also in this episode, “I” have a variable perspective – sometimes eye-centric & sometimes out-of-body. Or a variable view. (EC, OOB, VV). My perception beast roams around the dimensions. I need to be a better cartographer and zoologist. I need to map and catalog the qualities of perception in the whole HoloLand which includes the whole shebang, all the precious pulses, repulsive and charming alike.

 

With the delicacy of a butterfly, the quickness of a hummingbird, and the ferocity of a jaguar, my perception beast hunts the wild perception, knowing Blakily that it is all and any always new and shocking. Anything less is my tarnish – it is always polished.

 

Probably it would be wise to intracede (cf pre-cede) every contemplation with a startled ‘oh my gods!’ Ohmygods, shadows & shine; spleen & tenderness; leathery bat wings and Frolic’s downiest belly-fur which is as near to warm, soft, cloud-like nothingness as something can be. It’s recklessly ravishing. I am besotted.

…………<^>…………

……..……<^>………..…..

If you know an agent, editor, publisher person who would handle this kind of pogblogian material, please let me know at .. pogblog@yahoo.com

………….<^>……………..

It’s an honor to have you visit pogblog. Do comment.

…………….<^>……………..

Check pogblog’s Glossary for brave & nefarious words.

copyright pogblog 2005 all rights reserved

Please send pogblog’s link to your friends:

http://pogblog.blogharbor.com

10 Flint . Edznab . Knife . North . tzol 218  01.05.06 thur

ffwofw355§26d2h33m11s33.84g3.25g; 

..

the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..

.. let’s spend the $820,000 per minute Military Budget on education instead

………….<^>…………….

Behind The Christian Iron Veil

Posted on by
5

Behind The Christian Iron Veil

<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office” /> 

We are on the cusp of a 'breakthrough' in multi-D consciousness. It's already well-under way in the Next Age communities around the world — it just hasn't broken through the Christian Iron Veil yet. (Not to suggest that you, dear reader, are or aren't Christian — it's just that Fanged Christianity is in the ascendancy in <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />America now rather than Tender Christianity.)

We all barely tap our synapse capacity. You won't find it harder to keep track of the multi-D experience — indeed at some level you already are! You'll actually have a chance to be more coherent about your energy management when you aren't having to slyly and stealthily judge what energies you can allow to cross your face or which you gotta hide from the Acceptable Telescreen of Normal Suburban Judgment.

It's the subterfuge that's draining.

Generally the big rules will be If you can't fix it, don't break it. Be kind to your kind. Physically. Killing people of different shades or creeds strings out vengeance. You think 'After I get back at them, then I'll stop.'

 

Tender Christianity or other forms of empathy are what take real courage. Fanged Christianity substitutes a paranoid power for the horrors of empathy. Empathy requires a mutual ceding of control & how damned dangerous is that? Empathy is the portal to the fairer future, but only some consciousnesses will dare it at first – like space flight – not everyone has the right stuff to take the weightlessness, the unsafeness.

 

It’s easier far to set armies of other people’s children amarch in distant lands where the screams and ruined dreams are set supposedly outside one’s ken. You do have to pay eventually because the universe cannot, is unable to forget. It’s not, however, into vengeance, just into grokking, or the deep understanding that’s like drinking in understanding deeply like cool water in the desert.

 

What’s been done to you is like morning mist; what you did unto others is adamant.

 

Anyhow, soon enough you’ll begin to notice that you remember your dreams more. That they have a substance and otro-physics  laws and otro-chronos laws and otro-social rules and customs, and you will begin to become educated into your own wider experience. Most of us are infants in recalling and acting in this wider-worlds experience, but just like when you were a child in DayLand, you learn and become nifty.

…………<^>…………

……..……<^>………..…..

If you know an agent, editor, publisher person who would handle this kind of pogblogian material, please let me know at .. pogblog@yahoo.com

………….<^>……………..

It’s an honor to have you visit pogblog. Do comment.

…………….<^>……………..

Check pogblog’s Glossary for brave & nefarious words.

copyright pogblog 2005 all rights reserved

Please send pogblog’s link to your friends:

http://pogblog.blogharbor.com

11 Death . Cimi . Twins . North . tzol 206  12.24.05 sat

ffwofw§26d2h33m11s33.84g3.25g; 1171;

..

the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..

..let’s spend the $820,000 per minute Military Budget on education instead

…………….<^>……………..

Crow-Fly by Synchronicity

Posted on by
3

obsidian is shinier & blacker than coal .. & never capitulates to diamond.

<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office” /> 

Crow-Fly by Synchronicity

 

    A crow’s wing must read the ebullient air, that grail, like braille? Feeling a bosomy intimate terrain we cannot even see. That crow, my obsidian bird, can see where I’m going, tho I, more landbound, take the, if lucky, meandering route; if not, the jagged route.

    I am well into my third Great Experiment. Certainly the most damned dangerous in daylight terms – I mean, I could get run over by a train I can see.

  The first Great Experiment is chronicled in 800 words in a fable called Justice.  I find out through 20 years as a window washer that the fortunate super-educated could do their share of the grotty jobs so we would not have to have an invisible undereducated class of which we never speak in order to get the latrines cleaned.

   The second Great Experiment is mostly unchronicled except in the blognoire, the akashic record, a few sketches here on agogblog, and the posthumous papers. An intense and immense decade of my tender battle with Digrif, a demon with whom I’m addicted. (Well, you like breathing too, don’t you?)  Across the timescapes, it is fascinating, elating. Here in this cul-de-sac of time, it is sometimes so painful, my bones bleed. Monde tordu. Wry world. Twisted world. If I only get to keep the memory of one thing, I trade off the possibility of Justice for the whole world for our implausible story, him & me. 

   This Third Experiment is in the dark arts. Not wicked, though wicked people have plied them. Dark like night is dark. It’s a calculated madness. I am navigating the last third of my life by poetry, by synchronicity. Reading the runes. Like the crow’s wing upon the courtesan air, I am allowing myself to be blind to the modern exhortations of necessity. Listening so carefully, watching like the fox the rabbit, or the rabbit the fox, breathing in the hieroglyphs of scents,  I am sensible to the signs – not in some, I like to think,  cult madness, but in a keenness of attention to the poem into which Fate is writing me. The metaphor from the inside.

    It is a certain enchanted view, as we shaman are taught to recognize and endure, and, even, procure. But this is different. More abyss. More quicksand. More much more vertigo.

    To say that synchronicity is a slippery slope is a bad time-rider’s joke. Am I really going to trust quixotic, clearly psychotic-able Fate to laying out clues like crumbs for the little bird? And am I supposed not to end up as rot-swollen body floating face down on the flood-sewage of <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />New Orleans?         

    Writers are used to being in the hand of Fate. When you get your own voice for sure at last, it’s like being knighted. You never need doubt the holy voice again. Soon tho, you realize that you are really an amanuensis for Something Which Speaks. The Ego does not write. It receives, like a pagan communion, the elixir. You are alive in the runes, the 3D of your sentences as they unfurl, the sentiments into images, around you. It is the alchemy.

   But to trust this impulse in your own living story with its bank accounts and rain and culverts as well as the parrots’ feathers is nothing if not risky. It’s being risqué may well not make up for how risky it really is.

     People who deny synchronicity are the wooden people who clodpatedly pay little attention. Synchronicity can be sly. Or Shy. Or bloody undeniable. As an example, a few years back, because of the crush of time, I had decided to stop taping my tv show of twn years, the Rhapsodic Life, where I performed 22nd century philosophic fables. I was very sad. I was parked in the Wells Fargo parking lot, crossed the street to the bakery for a consoling banana nut muffin, and as I passed the windows at the back of the store, this woman came running out of the store and grasped my hand with both hers, and said, “Your show saved my life.” Well, I guess I’m not quitting my show,” I laughed to myself. Manypoem (the multi-verse) can give you answers or nudges or kicks in the trousers, but 30 seconds later? It was compelling.

    Earlier this evening as I was fending off a bout of (financial) panic, actually behind this same bakery I swear – a vortex I guess & I haven’t been there in six months – the car which had pulled up next to mine had the license plate QUNTUM. Those of you who follow pogblog know that this Quantum motif is all over the blog. Quantum Schools etc. The thing that is hard to describe objectively is the precision and intimacy these bigger synchron moments can have.

    As you hang on a vine over the edge of a cliff, you say ok ok, I won’t panic yet.

    (I’d appreciate it if you don’t pipe in with rational advice because it only spooks me from the wild path I’m going to explore. I am convinced that as we clamber along in this next decade more & more sychron will appear and the parallel worlds will interinfluence each other more consciously. I’m a scout. Always have been a scout.)

 

Clearly there is gonna be a lot more about DUIS – driving [a life] under the influence of synchronicity, but I gotta go write some bilious romantic nonsense to Digrif.    

 

…………….<^>……………..

………….<^>……………..

If you know an agent, editor, publisher person who would handle this kind of pogblogian material, please let me know at .. pogblog@yahoo.com

………….<^>……………..

It’s an honor to have you visit pogblog. Do comment.

…………….<^>……………..

Check pogblog’s Glossary for brave & nefarious words.

copyright pogblog 2005 all rights reserved

Please send pogblog’s link to your friends:

http://pogblog.myblogsite.com

9 The Road . Eb . Grass . Rattlesnake Tooth . South . tzol 152  10.31.05 mon

ffwofw 913§8941/24d17h28m25s31.98g5.1g/1118

..

the pro-peace world begins today with you

………….<^>…………….  

Make a Poetry .. MAP .. elan waking x elan dreaming #1

Posted on by
6

Make a Poetry .. MAP ..

elan waking x elan dreaming #1

<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office” /> 

     “Attention is a substance. Attention can travel amongst the intersecting spheres of densities. Monsieur Einstein fussed about his e=mc2 which holds up pretty well in K1, the semi-standard shared steady or fairly predictable and persistent solidity. But attention — the attention point can travel jaguar-like thru the forests of the night and of de-light. A=ec8″.

      Purrs Nickety, the feline assassin specializing in felling hypocrites, had a planet-side putative pal called Spiteful Puffadder. He was cute, sexy, and asked good questions once in a maroon moon, but he knew exactly how to needle her. She knew that when she wrote up the Make a Poetry MAP chapter for the Elan Waking x Elan Dreaming Manual, there would be a flurry of knives that would all impale the bullseye of her tender heart. But, press on regardless was the assassin’s creed even if ridicule and sweet talk were your only weapons in a mean world.

    Purrs said, “Lucid or elan or lively waking (& lucid or elan or lively dreaming, sooth said) is all a matter of deft attention. I put together a whole nice package of pogbloggian angles on deft, deft attention, and deftly intent for you to consult.

       “It’s the awww-kitten theory. When you see a kitten being held by someone, you feel safe. You go , “Aww, how adorrraabble. (Well, I do and many people do. Spiteful Puffyadder would probably like to, but it would de-cool his imagined tuff-guy image (pronounced im-ahhshuh). I use this aww-kitten example because once you get onto the recognition of attention as a thing, as a substance, you can experiment with it, or at the very least observe.

    “Compare also,” said Purrs, “That NLP I think said in some seminar, ‘Notice where you somatisize anger.’  Get over the horrible word somatisize (about which EB White said something like, ‘I’d as soon Simonize my grandmother'). I assumed I knew where I somaticised anger – in other words where in my body did anger concentrate? I assumed my chest, my shoulders, my jaw. But the next time I actually got angry, I realized that I somaticized anger in my forearms. Who knew? So we need a PestPatrol utility scanning our attentions to check out if they’re genuine or have gotten lifeless, juiceless, or just mis-taken.

   “You can send your attention anywhere in time. Or anytime in where.  Now, we like to allow our attention to be manipulated by stories and dance and song and stock tickers I suppose for some. That’s fun and I like it too. It would add to the repertoire of your consciousness though if you began to pay attention to your attention. Not with a furrowed brow tho, nor gritted teeth, but deftly – with no more effort than it takes a butterfly not to crash into the flower upon which it’s landing.

     “Attention that is euphonically and harmoniously deftly formed is often called the zone. Now, a baseball pitcher can be in the zone with his slider but almost slice his thumb off cutting a grapefruit in half. Pitching he can handle his attention brilliantly — tres zone. Halving grapefruits – not-so-zone. I swear that one summer there was a rash of baseball players hacking themselves up trying to halve grapefruits. Anyhow, attention is an undersung substance until you begin to grok it. Have you ever had the phenomenon of learning a new word and then for a week you suddenly hear it being used all over? As you add attentions, it’s like that.

   “Ye owls, now I’m in for it from Spiteful Puffy. But we gotta remind you about the Eskimos and their 25 words for snow. The Eskimos have a refined attention for many more qualities of snow than you and I do because snow is a life or death issue for them. All learning is refining and distilling attentions. And the astonishing thing is that you can have a zillion of them and it’s only more fun.

     “Properly funesed and grokked, attentions are nada but cool. We get tripped up when we lose deft. Deft is the lodestone. There’s a certain effervescence to deft. If we, as we are wont to do but don’t want to do, fall into a leadenness of attention, we are bored or angry or irritated.

   “Obsidian humor may be required to keep the quantum skipping up – when the self-evident stubbornness or stupidity of others seems to be ripping the wings off one’s butterfly of attention on some subject. or other. Obsidian humor is the Advanced Class – harrowing hell is nifty work and if you can’t asbestos up your heart, y’gonna char.

      “But happily and luckily, there’s a lot of attentions honing that all of us can do before we have to throw the lamb chop of our heart to Cerberus. Deft and droll attentions.”

…………….<^>……………..

………….<^>……………..

If you know an agent, editor, publisher person who would handle this kind of pogblogian material, please let me know at .. pogblog@yahoo.com

………….<^>……………..

It’s an honor to have you visit pogblog. Do comment.

…………….<^>……………..

Check pogblog’s Glossary for brave & nefarious words.

copyright pogblog 2005 all rights reserved

Please send pogblog’s link to your friends:

http://pogblog.myblogsite.com

2 Serpent . Chicchan . East . tzol 145  10.24.05 mon 

ffwofw 806§8941/24d17h28m25s31.98g5.1g/1111

..

the pro-peace world begins today with you

………….<^>…………….