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

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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.

 

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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

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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?

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jonglez = juggle;

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6 Deer . Manik . West . tzol 227  01.14.06 sat 

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the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..

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

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Odious George Bush et Ilk & Nicer Nancy

Odious George Bush et Ilk & Nicer Nancy

 

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

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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?

 

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

ffwofw577§26d2h33m11s33.84g3.25g; 

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the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..

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

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Bush’s Lethal Zeal: Religious Insanity Runs in the American Family.

Bush’s Lethal Zeal:

Religious Insanity Runs in the American Family.

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Images of God – ioG — or no-images of God – nioG – are what fuel all this righteous killing & fabulously, excessively expensive purchase of ordinance – FEE-POO aka the Military Budget, $820,000 per minute. Plus an additional $200,000 per minute for <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />Iraq.

    A few strips of striped cloth plus ioG or nioG and out come the scimitars or humvees or ieds of wrath & Bob’s your dead uncle. And not one mealy-mouthed politician will call it crap: CxxxSxxxxxg Ridiculous Adolescent Pablum. (Pablum is the pre-chewed, bland, paste without taste faux cereal gluck we feed to infants on the pretext that it is digestible.)

   not one mealy-mouthed politician will rise up & say, “I do not take Jesus ExxAxx Christ to be my savior – I do not join the brotherhood of blood which has slaughtered and belittled through the centuries.” By my cloven hooves, I declare to you that not one will stand up & say, “Brethern & sisthern, this religious flapdoodle is killing folks & we gotta kick the habit. Yep, cold turkey on comforting, grandiose hallucinations with murderous side effects.

    From now & henceforth, inculcating this claptrap crap upon the unsullied young will be considered child abuse – leave their beauty-able, wonder-able minds alone. Sniff, snort, or exhort that JC drug & you get a scarlet J tattooed on your intoxinicated, lethal forehead so we can know to shun your non-happy-heathen rump.

   Instead, lie down on the ground and lay your cheek against the precious dirt of Earth & utter not a sound. True awe is unspeakable & leaves you speechless.

   all our leaders are drugged & mugged by one theopatriotic drug or other. They are killing people in the name of ioG, Jesus, Allah, God. Folks, in all good conscience, we gotta Just say no to thetheo-thug drug.  

   Now, worshiping saguaro cactus or humming birds or pogblog’s silver Burmese perfect cat, Frolic – that could be fun and a tug of the forelock to eternal hilarious delight. Pick an idiosyncratic worshipee per day and bow & scrape as you will. Our universe, hallowed be thy infinite names.

  “Hey Jane, hey Joe, who’s your worshipee today?”

   “Today I’m worshiping French toast with lotso melted butter and organic, grade B, pure maple syrup. Muy yum!”

   “Oh well-done, Jane! Today I’m worshiping my dear beloved pillow who supports me tenderly in my darling sloth and my bliss-sodden naps.” Thus & so4th.

  Get your life, really.    

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Notes:

One immutable principle re doctrines: if it allows for killing anybody, it sucks.

Monotheism kills.

Friends don’t let friends take the God-drug.

‘Spirituality’ is the methadone of religion-lite. It still murks up your conscience. It is still enslaving & enslavering.

Clearly, any intelligent God would have designed an avocado with a seed the size of a peach pit. Ergo, clearly & inescapably, God is dumb. Or God simply isn’t.  Take your pick.

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[Pog, you asked for my memo on the Bush et Ilk’s Lethal Zeal & How Religious Insanity Runs in the American Family. I am happy to share this with you under the seal of the confessional astwere. America is still willing ‘in flaming fire to take vengeance’on the hapless unbeliever, so let it not be known, friend, that you wander from the strait paths lest you be ‘punished with everlasting destruction’ and other not daffodilesque nor lilyesque mercies. This document could fry you in Hell where you would dwell in an ‘eternity of conscious torment.’ Herein lies the UnderBelly of the Beast. Believe me my dear pogblog — Your affectionate & anxious friend, Dr. Common Sense.]

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

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1 Wind . Ik . Whirlwind . North . tzol 222  01.09. 06 mon

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

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The Perception Beast

The Perception Beast

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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.

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

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

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

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..

the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..

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

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Ode to Intestines

Pls note that in the following Ode to Intestines, ‘intestines’ is always pronounced ‘in-tes-tie-ns.’ The second 'i' is long. Droller.

 

Ode to Intestines

  

   We’re all intestine-casings, nada mas, nada menos – ICs, that’s we. Fancyish perhaps, but intestine-casings nonetheless. So there’s not so much to get huffed up + puffed up about. Intestine cases, crawling, winging, galloping, strolling, hopping, slinking, finning, tangoing – it’s all a fancy dress ball for the kissable, &, for most, the not-so-kissable ends of the churning, peristalsizing digestive tract.

   None of your strutting and eyelash fluttering, lust-thrusting, bombast-delivering-forth would be vouchsafed thee, pilgrim, without the ceaseless and diligent squishing and dissolving, sucking and glucking of your brilliant intestines. You couldn't figure out how to get your Mona Lisa or Mano Louis smile out of a chomped turnip end and a licked strawberry ice cream cone. You dumb, intestines smart.

   If you waltzed into the finest Chemistry Lab on Earth – some MIT equiv – with a bucket full of carelessly ground smorgasbord slop  – steak, peas, caramelized onions, 4-crème brie, argula, chocolate pecan pie, brandy mimosa – and gave a pint of it to the previously puffed-up, white-coated, erudite Lord of the Universe chemist and demanded s/he extract the constituent nutrients in an hour &1/2 to pearl forth Einstein’s Theory of Relativity or a design for a better skateboard or my uselessly clever heartbreaking poems to you – piffle, s/he is baffled. Compared to intestines, s/he is a lousy chemist and a lousier alchemist. Intestines rule. Do your intestines proud.

   I know it is less romantic, less picturesque to imagine yourself a Mobile Intestine Unit, but evolved or intelligently designed, even in a scarlet sequined ballgown or a denim workshirt and beat up <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />Levis, you’re still a Mobile Intestine Unit. You may be a fine Intestine Casing, but preening is perhaps a tad unseemly?

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

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6 Jaguar . Ix . Ocelot . Panther . North . tzolkin 214  o1.o1.o6 sun

rabbit rabbit rabbit

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the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..

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

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President George Bush Gives His Foot to the War Effort

President George Bush Gives His Foot to the War Effort

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George I (as in <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />Washington) actually led his troops into harms’ ways. George III, tho more indispensable than George I apparently – forfend we risk his hide, did decide, finally, on Christmas Day (CHRISTmas Day, by the way, you stupid heathen) to demonstrate the necessity and nobility of the Iraqian Cause & Course by chopping off one toe for each 500 dead & 500 mutilated. (A cumulative thousand per toe – not a toe for each 500. Of course, there are abundant mutilated to add to the sum.) (Americans, duh. Counting Iraqis is for yellow-bellied bleeding heart defeatists like Howard Dean. If it weren’t for Howard Dean, we would have had victory in Iraq already.)

 

George III doesn’t want people to think he is just shipping off mainly poor young men to the slaughter streets & yellow-brick IED roads.

 

No, no – tho he evaded Vietnam, he feels his noble responsibility as President is to walk – well, limp now – the talk. As of Dec 31, 2005, George III has gallantly contributed four & .356 toes to the noble Cause & Course.

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

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

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5 Cane . Ben . Reed . East . tzol 213 . 12.31.05 sat

ffwofw§26d2h33m11s33.84g3.25g; 1179;

..

the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..

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

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Behind The Christian Iron Veil

Behind The Christian Iron Veil

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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.

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

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

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

ffwofw§26d2h33m11s33.84g3.25g; 1171;

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the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..

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

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Complete Consciousness Education & Evil

Complete Consciousness Education & Evil

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Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock Tick tock = that little exercise just cost your children $820,000 per minute for the Military Budget + an extra $200,000 per minute for Iraq.

 

We are able to deny or bizarrely overlook this abzurd and obscene waste of our national resources for destruction and against construction because we are not serious in our grokking or deep comprehension of  our consciousnesses. We are namby-pampy, prissy, tut-tutty, norman-rockwelly about the violence and lusts we all covertly encompass so these forces get projected into the dear solid day world where they do physical harm, not just mental titillation or mental harm. We need CCE in this country – Complete Consciousness Education. The following fable is one step toward The Unveiling of our wider consciousness.    

 

Evil Ain’t Always Bad    

 

    “This is a subject so difficult to talk about that my throat constricts as the words rise into the air. I who have lived with this knowledge for 23 years can hardly breathe to speak. Yes, I have come to tell you that what is evil ain’t always bad.” Belle Z. Babe spoke at the Tribunal as the lidless eyes of the Judges bore their fear, distaste, and fury like crossbows into her heart.

    At once, in the dappled inner glade which was her refuge, Belle Z. turned ruefully to Oak, her friend with the bright dark amber eyes. Like herself, Oak was of the ancient druid line of star-seed who loved the home planet Earth with concentration and glee, diligence, devotion, and somersault joy. The druids knew there was more than one time line, a fact they playfully and reverently portrayed in their intricate and passionate Celtic knots. Lightning is a druid sign because druids zigzag between times.

     While one thread of her experience had Belle Z. in a leg chain before a galactic Tribunal, in another co-chronos thread, in her glade, Oak put the back of his fingers to her cheek and suspended time with her.  It was this ability to dwell in parallel and mobius time lines that gave those of druid blood their air of mystery to the single-sighted. Oak’s eyes were that dark amber struck by a shaft of sun. Not too far hidden under the surface of those lion’s eyes was merriment, mischief, and a daunting ability to concentrate. Oak shrugged, “We knew they weren’t going to like the wider truth being brought into the day light. Stay brave, Belle Z.”

     Back in the Tribunal, with no more apparent time dislocation than a heartbeat, Belle Z.Babe continued. “You didn’t like what Galileo told you either. The transition to an openly multi-dimensional consciousness is going to be rocky, but the costs of living a lie are too tremendous.

    In the most simplistic terms, 'what is good' in our Earth density of experience is not the same as 'what is good' in our less-dense ethereal realms of experience.

   “Thus 'evil' ain’t always bad. Most true evil comes from confusing the layers of consequence between dimensions of experience.

     Monger, the grim judge, sneered at Belle Z., “If you let this evil knowledge out of the bottle, Mz. Z.Babe, you cannot contain it. We have kept the multi-dimensional truth from people because they are not ready for it. The danger is too great.”

    Belle Z.Babe shrugged one shoulder, “Monger, I have thought most of my lifetime about that —. It is a staggering concern. But I am convinced now that we must dare the whole truth.

    “If what is evil earthside in DayLand is not necessarily evil in the ethereal realms, we must learn and teach 'how to act fittingly.' How to act in a way that 'fits' the realm of experience we presently dwell in.

     “Imagine for a moment that you and I meet in a dream and you murder me. In the land of dreams, in Otherland, murder could be a 'gotcha' game you and I play. Or it could be symbolic between us of some rotten feelings. But because in the less-dense or ethereal realms where we inhabit dreams and other differently-consequential experiences, we pop right back up, the consequential meaning of murder is different. Therefore the ethics is different.

      “In our beloved earth/solid, relatively sequential-time realm, the consequences of war and pillage, rape, death, gigagreed, and promiscuity are all awful to our sturdy hearts. Yet simultaneously we dwell in levels of experience where such things have little more consequence than our actually being a character in a book we’re reading.”

     Belle Z.Babe looked at Monger’s pale ice-grey eyes directly with her green Celtic eyes and continued, “The kinesthetic intensity and time-duration intensity of Earth experience, as well as the depth and durance of emotions make consequence and responsibility different than in the diaphanous, more plastic realms where experience manifests at the speed of thought.

      “Here in this material masterpiece we have to collaborate with the nature of a stuff which has its own integrity and sturdiness.

     “Our behavior must be appropriate, must fit the space, the place wherein we immediately dwell. We cannot bring dream behavior into the solid day. This mis-taking of realms, this leeching of lusts and power struggles and emotional chaos into the consequential Earth is the source of most crime, legal and emotional. By staying primly and sentimentally blind to our multi-level experience, we avoid the complicated responsibility for our whole behavior.”

      In the glade, Oak grinned at Belle Z and said, “The constant aesthetic and ethical many-layered decisions that we hope are increasingly elegant and compelling finally make use of the 90% of that ultimate holographic and multi-D organic Celtic knot, the human brain, which has lain mostly fallow for all these centuries.

     “Of course it’s complicated and terrifying to juggle several time lines and densities in a clear, sound consciousness at once , but it’s complicated and terrifying nowand based on a wrong premise, a false foundation.

     “We must dare to trust the whole truth, to dream well and live fittingly at once.”

      “Deft and apt,” Belle Z.Babe agreed.

 

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7 Wind . Ik . Whirlwind . North . tzolkin 202  12.20.05 tues

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Fanged Christians v. Tender Christians

Fanged Christians v. Tender Christians

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As a life-long observer of the spectrum of folks who declare that they cleave to Jesus, I have a few thoughts, some more charitable than others. At one end of the spectrum are what today my dear friend The Blue suggested I call the Fanged Christians – zealots who have co-opted the name of Jesus but do few of the radical acts he required. At the other end are the tirelessly kind and humble, quiet folk who tend to ‘the least of these’ as their devotion of acts in Jesus’ name and service, the Tender Christians.

 

Alas, our nation is in the grip of the Fanged Christians who have little to do with Jesus’ breathtakingly radical exhortations to Love your Enemy, Turn Your Other Cheek, Turn Your Other Towers. It is a deep shame that the Fanged get to blurt and bleat his name to cover horrible and even brutal acts of violence and intolerance.

 

Fanged Christians are people who are willing to call children mutilated by our preemptive acts of war, collateral damage. They are willing to cut Medicaid and to allow an absurd, an obscene minimum wage while lining the bulging pockets of the have-mosts with more filthy lucre. Can you really imagine that Jesus would countenance that the have-mosts should have yet more? It’s preposterous on the face of it.

 

The beauty of Jesus was that he dared to be tender. His job was to tend to the fragile, the poor, the outcast – because these people were not outcast by God, but by the false powers and contumely of men.

 

If there were a Satan and he set out to mock the simple, fiercely mild truths of Jesus, he’d devise twisting exactly our sweet hope of the poor, hope of the tempest-tossed, beloved <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />America into the wretched greedy, belligerent travesty it has become today. Satan smirks. Jesus weeps.

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5 Light . Ahau . Flower . South . tzol 200  12.18.05 sun

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Boomerang Death – the End Of War

Boomerang Death – the End Of War

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When we grok our ultra-infra existence as well as our earth-G density, with our enhanced sensibilities, we will recoil from war-killing (our new & rationalized version of human sacrifice — we just do it better these days) as if our own weapon boomeranged and shot, exploded, napalmed, phosphoroused, slashed, stabbed, slaughtered, mutilated our very own flesh and splintering bones. We will recoil and we will refrain. We will shrink back from bloodthirst.

 

Our ultra-infra existence is that part of the spectrum of our experience usually and casually referred to as dreams, imagination, fantasy – all of which powerfully move us under the radar of our consciousness for the most part. Some of us can grok or semi-grok these inner weather systems, but most people’s  inner meteorology sweeps them with weather tides of emotion, and is not amenable to shamanic cajoling. How many are just along for the ride really while proclaiming Utter Certainty that God whispers sweet nothings exclusively into their shell-like?

 

This blindness to our wholer selves allows us to perpetrate these earth-G atrocities under one mad lemming banner or another – religion, patriotism, morality, family, tribe, nation. The simple test is whether you kill or by proxy allow to be killed another human being.

 

If you are a killer, you are a moron or a monster depending on the degree of consciousness you wield.

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3 <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />Flint . Edznab . Knife . North . tzol 198  12.16.05  fri

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