Kubrick is Real Only Then, When "I Am"

 

The cunning counterfeit of reality, revealed as such when authentic reality breaks through - like the “tip-tip” of the branch blowing against the window in Finnegans Wake during Earwicker’s dream.  This “tip-tip” is the clue, and the only clue.  In Ubik it is the commercials and messages intruding “from the other side”.  Do we experience that?  I did in 3-74.  So I am forced to conclude that our reality is a cunning counterfeit, mutually shared - and that the wise mind is trying to signal us - to do what?  To kick over into anamnesis, discharge of DNA long-term memories.  To remember and to wake up are absolutely interchangeable. 

Philip K. Dick 

Film is normally a temporal process, but Kubrick, uniquely, uses it to enclose space, the most vast volume of space possible. Thus Kubrick literally expanded the hologram for anyone understanding his films, and he was part of a historic movement involving the abrupt evolution of the human being in terms of so-to-speak, relative size, vis-à-vis his reality.  This is the inner firmament of Bruno (or Paracelsus—whichever).

Ah! The microcosm is transformed briefly into the macrocosm; and a slight but permanent expansion of the person, the microcosm, occurs: perhaps an altered relationship to the macrocosm, in terms of identity. 

Kubrick’s films as a means by which the alchemical Verklärung can take place: thus it is directly related to the Hermetics.  Expansion out of the prison: escape from the prison by extension, like an insect expanding out of his exoskeleton during/via his metamorphosis. “The body is the tomb of the soul”—half-life.  The BIP as a sort of exoskeleton, hence a kind of rigid (iron) body. This is the “second birth by the spirit.”

This is a radically different way of experiencing the self (microcosm) and reality (macrocosm). Memory and inner space. There is some relationship. Memory involves vastly augmented time which is then converted into space.

“A long time ago” becomes a very large spatial volume, with the result that the past still exists—e.g., my seeing the world of “Acts” in 2-74 and finding it latent in Tears.

So my seeing the distant past (in 2-74 and experiencing it overtly in 3-74) was due to the conversion of time into space—which I saw as the vastly augmented spaces. But I see now that the two phenomena are actually one.

Therefore the hologram (reality) is in truth one huge volume of space with no time involved, in which all “time periods” are spatial “onion” layers as (again) in Ubik, where the past lies inside objects (i.e., along a spatial axis) and can be retrieved.  Time, then, is actually spatial expansion, layer upon layer. So the hologram is quite large—it is ubique; yes; here is the ur-significance of the word “ubique”: it occupies all space.

By using his films to enclose huge volumes of space for the viewer Kubrick committed the ultimate political act of liberating—expanding—the individual. 

Likewise, my space phobia is connected with my own rebelliousness! Unable to deal with external space—i.e., unable to rebel—I have turned to inner space, to exploring it, which, too, is a political act; so my writing, involving inner space, is covertly subversive: it teaches secret ways to rebel (mostly by evasion: escape). This is why the whole psychedelic movement of the 60s was a threat to the authorities; this was the area of the subversive threat I posed—my studies of inner space—in fact—my conceptions of inner space differing from person to person is very radical and politically subversive, I now see, even when it didn’t involve drugs.

Viewed this way, then, 2-3-74 represents a total political victory by me, in that I broke through into absolute space such as is not even known about following the disappearance of the Hermetics. 

2-3-74 can be understood politically as significant, for the nature of the individual, in terms of his enclosing space, is recognized as basic (e.g., Kubrick’s films). This absolute space involves absolute (i.e., a priori) knowledge and power over time, in that time, can no longer extinguish the person. This relates to authentic Christianity.  Hence there really is something very subversive about Ubik, as well as Eye and Stigmata and Martian Time-Slip.

I personally achieved the catalytic metamorphosis that my writing promotes. And my writing may aid others in expanding their inner space—pointing toward what I did: breaking through into absolute (hermetic) space where the self is Adam Kadmon, unfallen and unoccluded!

It’s a world inside a world. This is why Kubrick’s space-enclosing films free us.  There is a direct relation between more space and the real world (also between restricted space and the irreal world).

Valis was an “uncanny one-way intrusion” perturbing the basis of the small high-speed world from outside. Valis proves there is an outside.

Valis proves there is an outside. This is the most important sentence I’ve written, since it shows our world resembles that of Ubik, Maze, et al.

Philip K. Dick

Calendar Magic: Confirmation is the Seventh Sacrament

The following is a conversation I had with Alex Fulton last year.  In it we discuss our thoughts on the reasons why, except for a chosen few*, nobody ever wants to talk about Crytpo-Kubrology, or any other personally designed system of brain change/meta-programming.

I say personally designed because if you really want to transcend the meta-programming system you were given, or the last one you have chosen, you have to carefully inspect and use what should be the the finished product of that system - your new brain.

What happens when we kick the tires on that thing?  How can we examine the potentiality of the new model?

Hopefully, the meta-programmed has made a successful leap to 

meta-programmer, and the owner of that shining new ride passes on passenger, and moves over to the drivers seat.

It is my opinion that Crypto-Kubrology is the ever expanding falsework for a Cathedral of Consciousness that can help take you wherever it is you choose to go.  If you don't know where you're going yet, you probably shouldn't talk about Crypto-Kubrology.  

* count yourself lucky if you ever have more than one person included in this chosen few

^ thanks to J.J. for helping to make this happen.

Aporkalypse Now

Saigon....shit.  
I knew I shoulda taken that left turn at Albuquerque.

Well, you see, Wabbit, in dis waw, things get 
vewy, vewy confused out dair. 

Ah say, ah say, I sure do love 
the smell of napalm in the morning.

I didn't come here for this. I don't need it.  I don't want it!
I didn't get out of the goddamn Eighth Dimension 
for this kinda shit!!!






Oh, but of course.  You are fighting ze 
biggest nothing in ze history!

"Lance! Hey Lance!  What do you think?"

Zap em with your sirensth man!  Zap em with your sirensth!!!

You have a right to kill me. You have a right to do that, 

but you have no right to j-ju-judcriticize me.

Eh............what's up, Doc?!

Is This Water Part 2: The Last Temptation of Water

"Christianity is secretly a religion of ecstasy, and that was my turning point"

Philip K. Dick

I feel confident now that my 2-3-74 experience is not reactionary but is carrying me into the future—a vast quantum leap from political action to one colossal meta-view of reality that embraces the political and the spiritual, the scientific and the religious: what for me personally may be the quintessential summation of my entire life of inquiry and worldview; for me and for mankind a new age is opening in which the holy, expected from the top, so to speak, returns at the bottom, at the trash stratum of the alley, humble and noble, beautiful and suffering and alive and conscious, personified in and by my Tagore vision.

If indeed it is the triumph of Christianity to dignify the lowly, here now is a whole new leap along that axis: the lowly snail darter becomes identified with suffering ubiquitous Christ and by being assimilated to him is glorified as if nature itself—and the electronic environment of info and signals and message traffic—is able to perish and be resurrected as and with the cosmic Christ (Jesus Patibilis) of Pierre Teilhard. Thus Christ extends even beyond the reality of the organic to bits of newspaper and song lyrics and random pages of popular print: one vast entity that evolves and thinks and has both personality and consciousness. It perfects itself and includes us all, subsuming and incorporating progressively more and more of its environment into arrangements of information—which is to say negative entropy: this is, in fact, a runaway positive feedback loop of greater and greater complexity and organization.

I have plumbed the true secret core of authentic Christianity—i.e., in 2-3-74. Hidden within the passion, the crucifixion, is its mirror opposite: ecstasis: joy, i.e., Dionysus, and this is what broke over me in 2-3-74: not just theoretical knowledge (Gnosis) but the Christian ecstatic experience.  Hence when I read Luke I recognize Jesus as a miracle worker, a guru, a magician. He is the God of change.

Agape is a road along which one travels in imitation of Christ, to penetrate to the core—deepest ontological layer—of suffering (his passion and crucifixion), and there, if you follow that road—and that road only—you arrive at the secret: the Resurrection—which is the miraculous conversion of suffering into ecstasy, which is uniquely the Christian miracle; this is how Christianity and Christianity alone solves the problem of suffering. This solution is not a philosophical, intellectual understanding (e.g., why there is suffering) but an event: the dramatic conversion of suffering, not into mere stoic apathy, the mere lack of suffering, but into its affective and ontological bipolar opposite: ecstasy—and here, precisely, Dionysus-Zagreus enters; Jesus “is” Dionysus-Zagreus as a solution to suffering; this is not just ecstasy but, more, ecstasy as the conversion of suffering. (This conversion is not found in the Dionysian-Orphic system; ecstasy is sought for its own sake.)
There is, then, no exultation in suffering per se, here; suffering, as in Buddhism, is to be solved; thus Jesus addresses the same problem that Buddhism and Stoicism address, but solves it quite differently. If Buddhas can be called victors, certainly, then, the Christian (who goes all the way to the end of the road of agape) is even more a victor, for he is not merely liberated from suffering—he experiences ecstasy.

The LSD-like perception of reality in 2-3-74 has to do with the greater Eleusian mysteries; the AI voice now precisely defined itself and what it has revealed to me: the greater mysteries. They pertain to Christ (authentic Christianity as a mystery religion offering immortality); that is, the vertical ascent by the “pulley,” in which we are extricated from our endless horizontal tracking (lifted along an orthogonal axis whose existence we do not suspect).

The maze can never be solved in terms of “horizontal” space, only “vertical” space (involving conversion of time into space).  This is ostensibly Celtic, but below that, as it were, lies pan-Indian thought about karma and maya and most of all compassion—expressed in Parsifal as “pity’s [i.e., compassion’s] highest power”; the significance of Mitleid in the statement in Parsifal is now explained to me: compassion’s highest power is the only power capable of solving the maze, and the recognition of “compassion’s highest power” is the essence of Buddhism, i.e., the bodhisattva or Buddha-to-be. VALIS, then, is Celtic (Parsifal, the maze) and Indian (Buddhism), by way of Crete (the dream of the plate of spaghetti and the trident and the elevator)—this last representing vertical ascent or descent: the fourth spatial axis is spiritual space: to rise vertically is to ascend to heaven which also signifies spiritual ascent or enlightenment.

The “here, my son, time turns into space” in Parsifal refers to (1) the maze; and (2) is a solution to the maze. It all comes together in Parsifal, which secretly deals with bodhisattva: Mitleid, hence the Buddha. And karma and Maya. What was precisely not solved in VALIS (“pity’s highest power”) is at last solved at the end—as the end—of BTA: compassion as the bodhisattva or Buddha to be: viz: one attains Nirvana—release from the maze via the pulley—due to compassion—i.e., Mitleid, which solves the horizontal maze. Pity is the fourth spatial axis. This can be expressed best by: the way back into the maze—what the bodhisattva chooses (to do)—is, paradoxically, the way—the only way—out of the maze.

And my point is: this was to be the theme of Owl in which he is trapped in the maze and only escapes, actually, rather than seemingly, when he decides voluntarily to return (to resubject himself to the power of the maze) for the sake of these others, still in it. That is, you can never leave alone; to leave you must elect to take the others out; thus Christ said, “Greater love hath no man than that he give up his life for his friend”; this is the cryptic utterance of the soul’s solution to the maze, and is the essence of Christianity.  Christianity, then, is a system of solution to the maze. Had I written Owl I would have expressed this solution which I had already formulated on a supra-conscious level.

It is almost all there in VALIS but the specific, crucial solution itself (VALIS states the problem) is at the end of BTA, so the problem is in VALIS and the solution to the problem (as I recently realized) is held back till BTA and then only at the end.

Philip K. Dick, Exegesis 1981-82

Is This Water Part 1: Impurities

The Mpemba effect is a process in which hot water can freeze faster than cold water.  The phenomenon is temperature-dependent.  There is disagreement about the parameters required to produce the effect and about its theoretical basis.

 

The Mpemba effect is named after Erasto Batholomeo Mpemba (b.1950) who discovered it in 1963. There were preceding ancient accounts of similar phenomena, but lacking sufficient detail to attempt verification. 

 wikipedia

Scientists have known for generations that hot water can sometimes freeze faster than cold, an effect known as the Mpemba effect, but until now have not understood why.  Several theories have been proposed, but one scientist believes he has the answer.

Theories for the Mpemba effect have included: 


    •    faster evaporation of hot water, which reduces the volume left to freeze
    •   
    •    formation of a frost layer on cold water, insulating it
    •   
    •    different concentrations of solutes such as carbon dioxide, which is driven off when the water is heated

The problem is that the effect does not always appear, and cold water often freezes faster than hot water.

Radiation safety officer with the State University of New York, James Brownridge, has been studying the effect in his spare time for the last decade, carrying out hundreds of experiments, and now says he has evidence that supercooling is involved.  Brownridge said he found water usually supercools at 0°C and only begins freezing below this temperature.  The freezing point is governed by impurities in the water that seed ice crystal formation.  Impurities such as dust, bacteria, and dissolved salts all have a characteristic nucleation temperature, and when several are present the freezing point is determined by the one with the highest nucleation temperature.

In his experiments, Brownridge took two water samples at the same temperature and placed them in a freezer.  He found that one would usually freeze before the other, presumably because of a slightly different mix of impurities.  He then removed the samples from the freezer, warmed one to room temperature and the other to 80°C and then froze them again.  The results were that if the difference in freezing point was at least 5°C, the one with the highest freezing point always froze before the other if it was heated to 80°C and then re-frozen.

Brownridge said the hot water cools faster because of the bigger difference in temperature between the water and the freezer, and this helps it reach its freezing point before the cold water reaches its natural freezing point, which is at least 5°C lower.  He also said all the conditions must be controlled, such as the location of the samples in the freezer, and the type of container, which he said other researchers had not done.

phys.org

science.  

What is it good for?  

Absolutely nothing.

Science has laws.  But there is no scientific law to explain how hot water sometimes freezes before cold water.

We got ourselves a loophole.  

Give us one free miracle?  This certainly stands out as a candidate.

Science does not like loopholes.  Math also dislikes loopholes.

This Mpemba effect is a gigantic loophole.  And magic loves loopholes.

Scientists have known for generations that hot water can sometimes freeze faster than cold, an effect known as the Mpemba effect, but until now have not understood why. Several theories have been proposed, but one scientist believes he has the answer.

Theories for the Mpemba effect have included:

• faster evaporation of hot water, which reduces the volume left to freeze


• formation of a frost layer on cold water, insulating it


• different concentrations of solutes such as carbon dioxide, which is driven off when the water is heated

The problem is that the effect does not always appear, and cold water often freezes faster than hot water. Radiation safety officer with the State University of New York, James Brownridge, has been studying the effect in his spare time for the last decade, carrying out hundreds of experiments, and now says he has evidence that supercooling is involved. Brownridge said he found water usually supercools at 0°C and only begins freezing below this temperature. The freezing point is governed by impurities in the water that seed ice crystal formation. Impurities such as dust, bacteria, and dissolved salts all have a characteristic nucleation temperature, and when several are present the freezing point is determined by the one with the highest nucleation temperature.
In his experiments, Brownridge took two water samples at the same temperature and placed them in a freezer. He found that one would usually freeze before the other, presumably because of a slightly different mix of impurities. He then removed the samples from the freezer, warmed one to room temperature and the other to 80°C and then froze them again. The results were that if the difference in freezing point was at least 5°C, the one with the highest freezing point always froze before the other if it was heated to 80°C and then re-frozen.
Brownridge said the hot water cools faster because of the bigger difference in temperature between the water and the freezer, and this helps it reach its freezing point before the cold water reaches its natural freezing point, which is at least 5°C lower. He also said all the conditions must be controlled, such as the location of the samples in the freezer, and the type of container, which he said other researchers had not done.


Read more at: https://phys.org/news/2010-03-mpemba-effect-hot-faster-cold.html#jCp

The Kundabuffer Always Rings Thrice: Everything is Fast Food For The Moon

Samuel : this is the name of god, god has heard, a judge of some sort
Diane/Diana :  this is a moon goddess
Bar:  meaning ‘son of’

chrs:  means destruction

mayday :  distress signal
May Day:  Beltane, May Queen

Malone: alone, lost, nobody knows his name
Chambers:  imprisoned, isolated, ignored

Television: always on, always in the background.

CUSTOMER - ISN'T THERE A SIGN OUTSIDE THAT SAYS, "ESTABLISHED IN 1895"?

SAM - NO, UH, DON'T PAY ANY ATTENTION TO THAT.  I MADE THAT NUMBER UP.

CUSTOMER - YOU DID WHAT?

SAM - I DID THAT WHEN CARLA WAS INTO THAT NUMBERS STUFF. 

CLIFF - YOU MEAN THE SCIENCE OF NUMEROLOGY, SAM.

CARLA - YOU SEE, BOSS, IF YOU TAKE 1-8-9-5 AND YOU ADD IT YOU COME OUT TO 23.
WHEREAS 1-8-8-9 COMES OUT TO A 17, 
AND 23 FOR ME IS OBVIOUSLY A MUCH LUCKIER NUMBER THAN 17.

CLIFF - WAIT, WAIT, WAIT, NOW, YOU HAVE 8 CHILDREN.

CARLA - EXACTLY, AND I SHOULD'VE STOPPED AT 5.

SAM - WELL, ANYWAY, I GOTTA TELL YOU, I'M GOING TO MAKE THE MOST OF THIS CENTENNIAL THING.  I ALREADY HAVE WOODY AT THE LIBRARY DOING RESEARCH, AND I THINK WE'LL ALL DRESS IN GAY '90s COSTUMES.

This is no coincidence¹?  


From Chapter 137: A Little Ditty from Colin’s Joust by S.Francis Wonot_______________________________________________________

1.  An exponential graph is a natural curve?
There are no straight lines in nature, lines are curved.  Exponents are the true reality.  The Euclidean Matrix (Gutenberg) is a dimensional prison relative to Non-Euclidean SpaceTime (Cyber).
The exponential domain is home to the astral range.
The Euclidean Empire never ended.  It is the nightmare of history.  I used to have dreams where I couldn’t move.  I’ve had that feeling in waking life, panic attacks.  Cognitive gridlock.   

Judgement day is the flesh made word.  Sit back, relax, and watch your life get hacked to pieces 

As above, so below.  ten above, ten below, 10/10 = one

Above, 10 is a unity.  Below 10 is the illusion of unity.  It is in fact binary.  A set of twins, 7 and 3 conjoined as 10.

Above = (10)(10) = 100
Below = seven + seven + seven + seven + seven + sevem + seven plus (3)(3) = 58. 

Above = 10²
Below = 7² + 3².  
2,3,7
Above = 100
Below = 49 + 9 = 58.

100 - 58 = 42.
42.

42 = 2X3X7

Euclidean space convinces us that the formula of as above, so below designates congruency, but all it does is signify similarity.  There is a vast difference between the reality of the above and the below.  This space, this difference between the two, between the 49 + 9 and the 100 is Room 237.  The Unconscious.  Every replication, every bifurcation into Euclidean space includes this infinite void between above and below. 


“I Pledge Allegiance to this Body, the United States of Sensorium.
Two bursts into public, then into glands
One station, enters god,
Sin divisible
With Liber OZ, and Bruno for All

This is a Coyote Gospel:  born of the hyper-localized need to re-connect with the non-local. 
You can see this kind of cycle in the work of Jackson Pollock.  At first, clunky, disjointed and forced.  A failure at creating avant-garde art pieces that commanded recognition on the level of the French and Ukranian masters.  Objective works are not achieved until the process is exhausted.  One says, my five year old could do that.  YES.  But the child doesn't struggle; the forty year old man, that requires a fierce struggle to return to what was once natural. Call it a resurrection.  Consider the art of haiku: clunky and forced at first, words bouncing off of and into coded restrictions of form until one day they glide effortlessly into pre-established shells (ignorant of limitation or rule); pure poetry, regardless of scaffold or source...

Does infinity repeat?  It replicates.  It rhymes.

Pi is infinite and non-repeating.
But is Pi in that circle and in that circle? 

Nothing is more marginalized than the Country Music Awards.
Not buying it?
Did you hear that Clint’s new album is called The Suede Orpheus?  It’s about a CMA that lasts 1,000 years.  It takes him seven hundred years to figure out that he has been trapped in a bizarre time loop.
How does he figure it?
As he goes out to perform his new song, he gets a small shock from the stage and understands that he has been singing the same song over and over and over, and the audience keeps applauding as if it is the first time they have ever heard it.  It’s beyond deja vu, it’s something more real then deja vu, if that’s possible.  Enantiodromia.  This word enters his brain and he carries it out to his seat in the crowd.  Enantiodromia.  He just keeps repeating it over and over and over again, as if he stops this mantra it will be lost forever.  As he is obsessing over this word, the best new artist is announced.  He's seen it before, thousands of times.  It's the blond, she always.  But this winner is bald.  This is impossible.  As she approaches the stage, he sees the video projection of her name and hit single and for about ten seconds, everything around him seems to stop.  And just when everything should start moving again, it doesn’t.  Twenty, thirty seconds, a full minute.  Nothing is changing.  He leaves his seat, and, do you know that moment in The Truman Show when he has figured everything out?  He walks to the door and he says his goodbyes?  Well, this guy goes to the side door to leave and it’s locked.  And just as the horror of the whole thing starts to overwhelm him, he hears his name being called from the stage.

Outdated Words : Internet Gaga
All we here is

Radio reached it’s full potential the minute it was born.
No other medium can claim that. 
TV needed decades to reach it’s potential.
Television is an Auto-Tuned reality; The OA fails because it pretends that it does not rely on this Auto-Tuning.  They gave Kanye shit but he understood that Auto-Tune distorts the human instrument in the way that media distorts the human instrument (sense ratios).

Math:  That’s what they call it here.  The word is stabilizing, but it also imprisons.
Magic:  This is the application of “math”.

Glengarry Glenross:  The Ox House Humpers

ABC’s, always be closing.  Time was money, now, money is information.  So time is information.  and Information is Time.  The Internet is a Time Machine. 

This is all that life in the BIP is.  A series of sales pitches, exchanges of meaning, a desperate attempt to own your own private Chapelizod.  A High-Definition of reality; this is what the Man in the High Castle has figured out. 

“Culture” is for closers.  Some people just like to talk.  Talk is not cheap, they do not close.  They do not open.  They loop an endless loop. They do no deserve Culture.

This is what is being debated right now.  Every hack is an Idol, every loser gets coffee.

No respect for relativity at all.  That’s the worst kind of asshole.  
“Those pussies in the south, they get one inch of snow and they think the world is ending”
This is what is being debated right now. 

The rigidity of language, the inability to flex with relativity. 

One Garfield of pleasure.
A soliton.
A never ending, always present soliton of pleasure.  A second.  Seconds.  Some more please.
But that’s all you get.  Firsts. Your first taste is all you taste.
Once a day, every day, for the rest of your days. 

This is one slice from the bottomless pan of lasagna
An absurd contract with serotonin.

As the tower is built, the pressure of the top creates the Diamond at the bottom.
“Real Life” is born;   The Blues, Art, Pollock
Old vs Young
Rich vs Poor
1% vs 99%

A shaman:  cures “disease” through a similar action

“However good our best film composers may be, they are not a Beethoven, a Mozart or a Brahms. Why use music which is less good when there is such a multitude of great orchestral music available from the past and from our own time?

When you are editing a film, it's very helpful to be able to try out different pieces of music to see how they work with the scene...Well, with a little more care and thought, these temporary tracks can become the final score.”  

Stanley Kubrick

The thing it is most “NOT”
Meditation:  Hyperdimensional Kegel Exercises
Enantiodromia:  it becomes the thing that it isn’t
Anamnesis:  The remembrance that this is what it is.

Concrescence:  two teeth fuse together at the roots
painful                          PINK                       LIGHT

Birth of a New Child

Family; you got one?
What you call family I call diseases
TV:  late night horror schlock
Daytime:  soap opera

Video game:  spotlight, pellet Pac Man gets another 15 minutes of fame

The Magic of haughty laughing;  a restrictive structure, like a haiku, but then a miracle of grace, it is cinderella’s slipper.
No true christian, nope
No true greek would eat gyros with a fork and "sauce on the side"

Vince Taylor was The Naz
Combination of Gene Vincent + Robert Taylor
Ziggy Stardust
Iggy Warhol Reed + LSD Casualty
Alien Agenda/Messiah

Born in the Milky Way:  What happens when you see the system?
Full hyperdimensional perspective
Removed from the Local completely
To observe from afar with the knowledge of within
The Matrix is recognized from a cosmic scale
A library within a library

Are you in IT?  Those technically superior wizards of history and politics may scan the chessboard to determine the finite directions the pieces must go, but they only have one foot in the muck, the shit, the tactile field of blood and emotion embedded in the hyper-localized dimension known as humanity.  What makes this humanity so fascinating is that they forget that there are no rules!  The overlords may scowl at the unforeseen improvisations but the scowl quickly loses its power.

It is happening, it is really happening. 

Pollock is Pollock
What rough beast is Pollock?
For he is exalted and known, and reflects back things which may never have been shone
Finnegans Wake is a miracle for even existing, its place on the pedestal has rightfully been owned.

I wish servers had tasers.
You mean like whalers and waitresses? 
Yeah. 
Why would you say that?

There are two jobs every human being should have at some point in their life in this place.   Server and police officer.  Nothing else provides the correct insight into the body politic of Cthulu. 

The Irrational gives rise to the Rational

The Nomad Hater Body gives way to the Domestic Water Body

Palm Tree Garden:  Won the War
Black Iron Prison: Lost the War
Post War empathy: 

Senior Moment or Mandela Effect:  both are the result of too much info.  PKD’s light switch.

LeClair’s Tensor was the Baptist, the Transformer wants to be the Christ, but falls short:   One is Everything, One is the Path to Everything.

First Amendment:  Free Speech
The power to involve oneself in the narrative, the Existential Qualifier as the Path to Everything 

America is an omelet that needs to be flipped. Trump is the decision to make scrambled eggs. 

Unconscious Escape Hatch:  Get me off this Island!
Every one is unconsciously attracted to people who represent a fast ticket out of the prison.

Original Sin is simply the bad luck of being born into slavery.  Thoughtful, actually.

How do you think a seven year old would draw this scene?

Mudra:  meta programming the human body:  eight hand positions for eight states of being.  Practiced and meditated upon over twenty years will signal the body meta-physically that it is aware of an unbalance and it should try to slow down.

The Box:  looks inside, looks like Twin Peaks, everything, including the Cat is alive.  But it is sterile.  Because it is not dead.  The observer paints the organism in absolutes.   It might as well be dead.  Consider the coffin; the body does not look real.  It is dead, but it is not alive.

8 bit Zelda worked so well because of the emergent graphics and game design, there simply was nothing as complex to fall into when it came out.  There was a deep desire to uncover everything it had to offer, the final levels contained the most complex, the most graphically intense data the game had to offer.  There was almost a feeling that your world would change if you were able to unlock its secrets.  I am not sure that video games deliver this anymore. 
One would have to design constraints.  One would have to control the flow of data to insure that the sublime emotions and emotional payoff would still exist for the young gamer. 
Now, the games are so complex, so graphically real that the goal of the gamer is to bring the control of complexity into simplicity.  Zelda led gamers away from chess, could Gears of War lead to chess?

Online Poker:  How did I screw that up?  Alcohol, intense desire for impossible levels of success.  Guilt.  Inability to believe that it was really real.

...I submit to you that such alterations, the creation or selection of such so-called 'alternate presents' is continually taking place. The very fact that we can conceptually deal with this notion - that is, entertain it as an idea - is a first step in discerning such processes themselves. But I doubt if we will ever be able in any real fashion to demonstrate, to scientifically prove, that such lateral change processes do occur. Probably all we would have to go on would be vestiges of memory, fleeting impressions, dreams, nebulous intuitions that somehow things had been different in some way - and not long ago, but NOW. We might reflexively reach for a light switch in the bathroom only to discover that it was - always had been - in another place entirely. We might reach for the air vent in our car where there was no air vent - a reflex left over from a previous present, still active at a subcortical level. We might dream of people and places we had never seen as vividly as if we had seen them, actually known them. But we would not know what to make of this, assuming we took time to ponder it at all. One very pronounced impression would probably occur to us, to many of us, again and again, and always without explanation: the acute absolute sensation that we had done once before what we were just about to do now, that we so to speak, lived a particular moment or situation previously - but in what sense could it be called 'previously,' since only the present, not the past, was evidently involved? Such an impression is a clue that at some past time point a variable was changed - reprogrammed, as it were - and that, because of this, an alternate world branched off, became actualized instead of the prior one, and that in fact, in literal fact, we are once more living this particular segment of linear time. A breaching, a tinkering, a change had been made, but not in our present - had been made in our past. ...Conceivably this could happen any number of times, affecting any number of people, as alternative variables were reprogrammed. We would have to go live out each reprogramming along the subsequent linear time axis. ...Thus, too, this might account for the sensation people get of having lived past lives. They may well have, but not in the past; previous lives, rather, in the present. In perhaps an unending repeated and repeated present, like a great clock dial in which grand clock hands sweep out the same circumference forever, with all of us carried along unknowingly, yet dimly suspecting.

 Scanner is an account of what it’s like to have a self in each brain hemisphere ideologically on opposing sides of the barricades”

Creation is mind—i.e., Brahman. But beyond that mind (noös) is brain: her.

It’s a loop. (1) I wrote TMITHC, in it I create Mr. Tagomi. He sits in a park and stares into a silver pin. Then he finds himself in our world, so our world as described within the product of a work of fiction within our world.”

The bigger (macro) can replicate itself in micro, and so any given bigger can be smaller than anything else. So the hierarchy of levels of truth and meaning themselves enter a paradox, where the higher becomes the lower.

Wisdom as a verbal riddle: its most microform, most condensed so in a sense most esse (onto). Then the smallest form (level) of it is the most real. Size is inversely proportional to hierarchical reality. We assume cosmic = most important = largest. (Cosmos = cosmic.) Wrong. Look for the seed. “Break a stick and there is Christ.” Nearest at hand. The cosmic is no more ultimate. “The part is contained in the whole”—no; the whole is contained in the part. There is no hierarchy of meaning; there are alternate models only, each as true as the others. It’s not A or null-A.

(1) Your sister is the anima in your mind. She is physically dead.

(2) You are physically dead and live in your living sister’s mind as a thought (for mind read brain read macro body and blood), and she is in plural microform in your world. So she is in her own thought!”

The part contains the whole.” (The micro contains the macro.)

“The whole contains the part.” (The macro contains the micro.)

Such a 2-proposition flip-flop dialectic is put forth as the riddle in Ubik: (1) are they dead/Runciter is alive? Or (2) are they alive and Runciter is dead? And it pulses (oscillates) back and forth endlessly. Ubik is the most important book ever written. Ubik the entity is the Tao. And the Logos or Christ or Sophia. Ubik is true; it deals with the (1) dialectic basis of all process; and (2) with the Tao.

My two propositions pulse (oscillate) back and forth. I am alive/I am dead/I am alive/I am dead.

She is alive/she is dead/she is alive/she is, etc.

As soon as something exists it turns into its opposite which then turns into its opposite, etc.”

Once you have the idea that “the whole is contained in the part” you’re onto it.*

(1) Our universe (world) is a scene in TMITHC. A place where Mr. Tagomi goes.

(2) Mr. Tagomi is a fictional person contained in a work of fiction produced in our universe.

Our world contains TMITHC which contains our world which contains TMITHC which contains our world which contains TMITHC which contains. . . . I set up another paradox flip-flop and another “the whole is contained in the part” and “the part is contained in the whole.”

How about: “Acts” contains (is) our world (i.e., our world is really “Acts”). But in our world is a book, a novel, which contains a fictional world which is (contains) “Acts.”

“Acts” can be retrieved in microform from a novel within our world; i.e., “Acts” can be derived from our world in microform. (“Acts” in microform. But “Acts” is the macroform which contains our world.)

Put another way, “Acts” is a book (part) within our world (whole). But our world (part) is contained within “Acts” (whole).

I have finally made a quantum leap breakthrough into pluriform model theory: oscillation truth. Oscillating between self-canceling models. As soon as you think it up it cancels (negates) itself and leads to the next self-canceling (but temporarily correct) model. And then back. Discarded model reinstates itself, and so eternal oscillation is generated. We’re trapped in a vast loop—which is good; otherwise reality would run down and end. The key is: reoccurrence. Reality can be regarded as an infinitely long number which repeats itself.*

So I may be dead, as of 3-74. My cosmological concepts are so terrific, so advanced as to be off the scale. I create whole religions and philosophical systems. The very fact that I honestly ponder if I may be dead and in heaven is prima facie evidence of how happy and fulfilled I am.

Philip K Dick

The Gospel:  the good news, advertising is Gospel.  We have what you need, big box of UBIK.  Revive your dying form.  The Blues?  What kind of gospel is that?  Where is the good news? 

Multi-Beast/Crayon Face removed from the box?  Isolate?  Did not used to happen.   

What is relative is threatened by the absolute.  Like cutting off someones nose and calling it Jane.

Some of those langurs could care less about the dead monkey because they knew it was not a monkey

One day they will have their revenge....

Too many toppings ruined the pie
Does anyone  look beautiful with too much makeup? 

The cube at the back of my neck is being watched over, and there is a sense that we are on a ship, floating safely in time.  Something told me that the calm waters represented good behavior

It’s there in the first sip. a shadow in the second, after the third it’s all the same.
But that first sip everything is good:  mowed the lawn, washed the car, raked the leaves, cleaned the kitchen, put the dishes away; cold beer.  reward.  A moustache approves.

Mario Odyssey:  Has Become dirigible 
Video Game:  The Dark Night of Batman’s on mushrooms, again.  

Rumors of people making money on the Luigi Gospel.

 

 If Luigi asked for anything,

 the town would provide.  

“The goal is to become the author of the novel. Then, you can write any damn ending you want for your character or any other. And this 'becoming the author' is this non-local detachment, and suddenly you go from being a chess piece on the board to the player inspecting  the matrix. It's empowering, it's self-control.

Concrescence is a word that I cribbed from the metaphysics of Alfred North Whitehead, and in fact much of what I say Whitehead provides the foundation for. He, like myself, had the idea that history grows toward what he called a nexus of completion. And these nexii of completion themselves grow together into what he called the concrescence, so, a concrescence is a domain of extremely high novelty in comparison to whatever its embedded in. So, for instance, you walking in the wilderness, you are a concrescence because you are more complex than the medium you're moving through. A raisin embedded in a cornmeal muffin is a concrescence. It is more complex than the muffin-matrix in which it finds itself. So, a concrescence is a local state of unusually high complexity. And a concrescence exerts a kind of attraction, let's call it the detemporal equivalent of gravity, so that all objects in the universe are drawn through time, not space- gravity draws you through space, time draws you toward the concrescence. This is why the universe is seem to be becoming more and more complex faster and faster. The idea being, you see, that each epoch, being shorter than the one that preceded it, this generates an asymptotic curve of approach, and it's become a cliche of our culture that time is speeding up. It actually is speeding up. It's not that it seems like it's speeding up, it looks like it's speeding up, it *is* speeding up. We in our entire world are being drawn into confrontation with something that at this level is lost below the event horizon of rational apprehension. That's a fancy way of saying you can't know jack shit about it at this point in time. There will come a moment when it will rise above the horizon of rational apprehension. And I think that history is a set of nested resonances. This is what I mean when I say 'nothing is unannounced'. Nothing can take you by surprise if you've really been paying attention, because everything is preceded by its harbingers and heralds. And we are living in an era now where there is a great deal of apocalyptic expectation, anticipation and hysteria for several reasons.

What I have concluded after 25 years of fiddling with this is that both of those ideas have a certain something to recommend them, but that they don't go far enough and that we get more to the meat of this if we leave off psychological, the first explanation, or sociological, the second explanation, and actually go for something a little more formal. To wit- a mathematical model of what shamanism is, and what I mean by that is let's think about what shamans do. They cure disease, and another way of putting that is they have a remarkable facility for choosing patients who will recover, they predict weather, very important, they tell where game has gone, the movement of game, and they seem to have a paranormal ability to look into questions as I mentioned, who's sleeping with who, who stole the chicken, you know, social transgressions are an open book to them. Well, thinking about this from a mathematician's point of view, an all-encompassing explanation that would explain how all these magical feats are done is simply to suppose that the shaman is somehow able to project his consciousness, his or her consciousness, into a higher dimension, not metaphorically, as in Sylvester Stallone has many dimensions, not metaphorically, but literally, as in 1 dimension, 2 dimensions, 3 dimensions, and four because if you could move into the 4th dimension, the dimension orthogonal to Newtonian spacetime, seeing what the weather is going to be next week is easy as seeing what the weather is now. Seeing where the game went is as easy as seeing where the game are. Knowing who stole the chicken is simply defined by looking to see who stole the chicken. And I have noticed that all of biology, not simply shamanism within the context of human society, but all of biology is in a sense a conquest of dimensionality. That as we ascend the phylogeny of organic life, what animals are are a strategy for conquering spacetime, and complex animals do it better than simpler animals, and we do it better than any complex animal, and we 20th century people do it better than any people in any previous century because we combined data in so many ways that they couldn't electronically on film, on tape, so forth and so on. So, the progress of organic life is deeper and deeper into dimensional conquest. Well, from that point of view then, the shaman begin to look like the advance guard of a new kind of human being, a human being that is as advanced over where we are as we are advanced over people a million years ago because we have, you know, very elaborate strategies for coding the past. It's a dimensional conquest.”   

Terence McKenna

Well, if something is rare, you can be sure whoever thought of it got paid 

America is outgrowing this Calendar

 

Borges: invented History
Dick: rewrote history

The fascination and the haptic tactility of the Transformer is not in its existence, but in its manifestation.  The nuclear fusion of the soldier and the hunchback, Doubt and Certainty.

It no longer has any value for me, or for many others.  It must hibernate for now.  For how long?  Decades?  Centuries?   I consider it a modern man-cave painting.  The excretion of boredom etched into walls of imprisonment.  Cave drawings are magical in their creation, yes.  But they were not Magical for thousands of years. 

The Transformer in its natural state is on the verge of extinction.  The DVD’s are useless, the correct dimensions of TV and lap top are gone.  The elements are all around us continuously but the specific organic arrangement exists only as an idea.  An eclipse possible only on a dead planet that has since turned into dust.   

A genetic memory of home:  a lion at the zoo is unsettled, becomes restless.  Begins to reject the comforts of his environment.  Sees on a television screen the African savannah, in fact, his father and mother and family in the wild.  This triggers an overwhelming total body experience of anamnesis; conscious recovery of genetic memory; it is a special arrangement of coincidence that triggers a waking REM which in turn leads to the superimposition of two separated but equal time frames.  The lion is in a false reality, buffered by time and space.  Taken for a fool, restricted, and imprisoned.  It would be the same experience of a human being realizing after many years that he lived not on Earth, but on the Moon; a climate controlled simulacrum of the genetic origins of the species.  Told that there was no difference, but for the genetic awakening.

The Lion has it good, the Moon child has it good, both agree life lived in relation to those of the caste below them is more secured.  Food, shelter, employment, health.  

But purpose?  Desire?  Gravity? 

Once this is awakened and experienced, it cannot be ignored.   It is elusive like the sixth and final number. 

Prison Lottery:  Odds are 1 in 7 trillion.
Your hope is false, the possibility grows into something akin to Faith.
Or
Garden Party:  You win the Lotto, you come to find out that the other winner had purchased 100 tickets of the same number.  You win one million dollars of a 100 million dollar prize.
You cash 675,000.  This does not change your life. 

Your breakthrough experience is tainted.   You are left depressed and isolated.  You have been robbed of hope.  

You are ungrateful.  

The thing you hoped for was a lie. 

Old boundaries dissolve.  The ascension to balance is full of ecstasy and joy. Maintaining that balance is a grind in this windowless cube on the dark side of the moon.  The imbalance of the individual, not the imbalance of the cosmos, eradicates tribe. 

Good       clean        fun
You know what your role is; the same as everyone else
Make sure to keep the Old Style, you may never have one ever again

This is the magic;  one sip, for the time travelling moment.
You didn't actually drink, but you touched the ghost.

The Disappearing Right Hand Path: Hallowed Be Thy Name

"Isn't this where we came in?"

An excerpt from an early, unpublished draft of The Hallows of Death by JK Rowling, 1995(?)

Late in the day, when school ended, Harry Potter decided to try the Hermetic transform once again, so that he would know the world around him.

     First he speeded up his internal biological clock so that his thoughts raced faster and faster.  He felt himself rushing down the tunnel of linear time until his rate of movement along the axis was enormous.  First, therefore, he saw vague floating colors and then he suddenly encountered the Watcher, which is to say the Boggart, who barred the way between the Lower and the Upper Realms.  The Boggart presented itself to him as a nude female torso that he could reach out and touch, so close was it.  Beyond this point he began to travel at the rate of the Upper Realm so that the Lower Realm ceased to be something but became, instead, a process;  it evolved in accretional layers at a rate of 31.5 million to one in terms of the Upper Realm's time scale.

     Thereupon he saw the Lower Realm-not as a place-but as transparent pictures permutating at immense velocity.  These pictures were the Forms outside of space being fed into the Lower Realm to become reality.  He was one step away, now, from the Hermetic transform.

     The final picture froze and time ceased for him.  With his eyes shut he could still see the room around him; the flight had ended; he had eluded that which pursued him.  That meant that his neural firing was perfect, and his pineal body registered the presence of light carried up its branch of the optic conduit.

     He sat for a little while, although "little while" no longer signified anything.  Then, by degrees, the transform took place.  He saw outside him the pattern, the print, of his own brain; he was within a world made up of his brain, with living information carried here and there like little rivers of shining red that were alive.  He could reach out, therefore, and touch his own thoughts.  The room was filled with their fire, and immense spaces stretched out, the volume of his own brain external to him.

     Meanwhile he introjected the outer world so that he contained it within him.  He now had the universe inside him and his own brain outside everywhere.  His brain extended into the vast spaces, far larger than the universe had been.  Therefore he knew the extent of all things that were himself, and, because he had incorporated the world, he knew it and controlled it.

     He soothed himself and relaxed, and then could see the outlines of the room, the coffee table, a chair, walls, pictures on the walls:  the ghost of the external universe lingering outside him.  Presently he picked up a book from the table and opened it.  Inside the book he found, written there, his own thoughts, now in a printed form.  The printed thoughts lay arranged along then time axis which had become spacial and the only axis along which motion was possible.  He could see, as in a hologram, the different ages of his thoughts, the most recent ones being closest to the surface, the older ones lower and deeper in many successive layers.

     He regarded the world outside him which now had become reduced to spare geometric shapes, squares mostly, and the Golden Rectangle as a doorway.  Nothing moved except the scene beyond the doorway, where his mother rushed happily among tangled old rosebushes and a farmland she had known as a child; she was smiling and her eyes were bright with joy.

     Now, Harry thought, I will change the universe that I have taken inside of me.  He regarded the geometric shapes and allowed them to fill up a little with matter.  Across from him the ratty blue couch that Ron Weasley prized began to warp away from plumb; its lines changed.  He had taken away the causality that guided it and it stopped being a ratty blue couch with Butter Beer stains on it and became instead a Hepplewhite cabinet, with fine bone china plates and cups and saucers behind its doors.

     He restored a certain measure of time--and saw Ron come and go about the room, enter and leave; he saw accretional layers laminated together in sequence along the linear time axis.  The Hepplewhite cupboard remained for a short series of layers; it held its passive or off or rest mode, and then it was whisked over into its active or on or motion mode and joined the permanent world of the phylogons, participating now in all those of its class that had come before.  In his projected world brain the Hepplewhite cabinet, and its bone china pieces, became incorporated into true reality forever.  It would now undergo no more changes, and no one would see it but he.   It was, to everyone else, in the past.

     He completed the transform with the formulary of Hermes Trismegistus:

     Verum est . . . quod superius est sicut quod inferius et quod inferius est sicut quod superius, ad

      perpetrando miracula rei unius.

     That is:

     The truth is that what is above is like what is below and what is below is like what is above, to

     accomplish the miracles of the one thing.

     This was the Emerald Tablet, presented to Maria Prophetissa, the sister of Moses, by Tehuti himself, who gave names to all created things in the beginning, before he was expelled from the Palm Tree Garden.

     That which was below, his own brain, the microcosm, had become the macrocosm, and inside him as microcosm now, he contained the macrocosm, which is to say, what is above.

     I now occupy the entire universe, Harry realized;  I am now everywhere equally.  Therefore I have become Adam Kadmon, the First Man.  Motion along the three spacial axes was impossible for him because he was already wherever he wished to go.  The only motion possible for him or for changing reality lay along the temporal axis; he sat contemplating the world of the phylogons, billions of them in the process, continually growing and completing themselves, driven by the dialectic that underlay all transformation.  It pleased him;  the sight of the interconnected network of phylogons was beautiful to behold.  This was the kosmos of Pythagoras, the harmonious fitting together of all things, each in its right way and each imperishable.

     I see now what Voldemort saw, he realized.  But more than that, I have rejoined the sundered realms within me;  I have restored the Shekhina to En Sof.  But only for a little while and only locally.  Only in microform.  It would return to what it had been as soon as he released it.

     "Just thinking," he said aloud.

     Hermione came into the room, saying as she came, "What are you doing, Harry?"

     Causality had been reversed;  he had done what Voldemort could do: make time run backward.  He laughed in delight.  And heard the sound of bells.

     "I saw Chinvat," Harry said. "The narrow bridge.  I could have crossed it."

     'You must not do that," Hermione said.

     Harry said,"What do the bells mean?  Bells ringing far off."

     "When you hear the distant bells it means that the Saoshyant is present."

     "The Chosen One," Harry said.  "Who is the Chosen One, Hermione?"

     "It must be yourself," Hermione said.

     "Sometimes I despair of remembering."

     He could still hear the bells, very far off, ringing slowly, blown, he knew, by the desert wind.  It was the desert itself speaking to him.  The desert, by means of the bells, was trying to remind him.  To Hermione he said, "Who am I?"

     "I can't say," Hermione said.

     "But you know."

      Hermione nodded.

     "You could make everything very simple," Harry said, "by saying."

     "You must say it yourself," Hermione said.  "When the time comes you will know and you will say it."

     "I am--" the Wizard said hesitantly.

     Hermione smiled.


I never fully understood Harry's relationship to Voldemort, or why Voldemort was threatened by a child until I read this.  It wasn't Harry's ability to resist the Dark Arts that threatened Voldemort; he would have been perfectly fine if Harry had ignored the Dark Arts altogether.  What most threatened Voldemort was Harry's ability to control the Dark Arts.

This Is Your Drugs on Brain

The above story is obviously? fake.  The "early, unpublished draft of The Hallows of Death" is actually Philip K. Dick's The Divine Invasion with Harry Potter characters.  Other than some of the names, J.K. Rowling had nothing to do with it.

Finished in 2008, the Large Hadron Collider is a high-energy particle collider designed to test out and prove different theories about particle physics.  It mashes and smashes like a beast.  The most famous function of this nine-billion dollar machine was to find observable proof of that elusive particle known as the Higgs-Boson, which for decades existed only as a mathematical theory.  Amazingly, only five years after the completion of the LHC, those incredibly smart people working at CERN provided observable proof of it's existence, which means apparently one of two things.  Either millions now living will never die OR everyone living right now is already dead.  That's some pretty deep shit.

I wonder what Marshall McLuhan would think about all of this?  I think he would laugh at first and then calmly explain to the perplexed that the Large Hadron Collider is also a fake, a ridiculous, expensive fake.  The real technology, the largest high-energy particle collider ever made, is that great gray lump in your head, and every second of everyday it is busy mashing and smashing every conceivable component of reality.  And this is just when we are awake!   When we go to sleep, or when we ingest certain plants, we really let the fucker rip.

So why build the LHC?  Why the fake?  And what does this have to do with Roger Waters?

"So ya, thought ya, might like to go the show….."  

R.W.