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.