A Clarion Amid The Din

It's not outer space that's important.  And it's not just inner space that is important.   It's both our neurobiologistical microscapes as well as the deep core of our own planet, and it's not panspermia alone that brought life necessarily to earth nor is it our molten iron womb itself either as much as the distinct possibility that the combination of asteroid (sperm) and planet (ovum) may have resulted in the origin of life and hence ourselves as a bonafide sentient species.  And how could we forget the deep oceanic trenches and the inherent mystery they conceal?  We are allegedly only familiar with 5% of the ocean depths.   That is the real future of science fiction because the exterior outward trip is doomed lost to a telescoped oblivion if that were even imaginable much less possible but yes leave it up to mankind to fervently achieve impossible absurdities something so beautiful and harrowing as to make damnation mundane, go for it rocket boys and may the spirit beyond the deepest waters move you toward the ultimate adventure of discovery and may your destinies meet with unspeakable success.  What a mess.  Enough science fiction about space ships already I call a boycott.  The real space ship is earth and I want to read and write about that so reel your spaced out dream back in quick everyone knows the cryptoterrestrials are here already and we're their latest offspring.  Listen to the leaves inside your mind and realize the wind passing through the seashell of your skull is not imaginary because you've mistaken it for something else it is actually real because you imagined it.  Try to get it right and did you know there's no such thing as out there at all?  It's all in the mind every spanking piece of it including those glittery dead sequins twinkling every color of the alphabet whose interwound songs harmonize into a celestial choir belting out the one hymn we've heard all our lives and it's not whispering myths or describing any dreams that's just the sound of it all breathing.  So wake up and grow mouths so you can stop screaming see what I mean by reading not only in between the lines but repeat the lines themselves because it is not just the words on the page that carry significance it is the distinct combination between them and the empty spaces crowding out the remainder of existence a polarized balance which pings a microtone spark across the dark of space to light up this place for us to see the secrets buried deep enough to make it worth the challenge of our lives to find so please stop searching for extraterrestrials if you don't mind besides they are the ones more likely advanced and are already ahead of the curve searching for us, rest assured they will find us on the television screens of their collective minds and read our lips from the static laden silent film of our history projected in an explosion of gravitational microlensing for their leisurely perusal so meanwhile what else are we going to do here all alone together besides feeling as if we're lost on our own home, for the sake of all that is common and good, alienated and terrified of being invaded because that is all we inherently know from having been born from scratch of the lightning bolt sparkstruck nickel-iron wombcore of our parent planet, don't you get it we're the species that invaded this place if it isn't obvious already then try and think of it this way, every solar system is like a factory in the shape of a vast tapestry okay, which manufactures us at the third station see, and here we are on the conveyor belt of revolving bodies harmonizing cosmic frequencies for the mass production of sentient fruit and the mirror trick to remembering who we are is to not care what the reflection looking back at us from dark matter resembles, because phantom distortions of ourselves are terrifying when taken out of context.  This has been a public service announcement coming at you live online all the time archived on the world wide vine from Thornswrath Guardian of Ambush Soldier for the Army of Trees & Sworn Protector of the Rose Still Blooming From the Heart of the Earth.  

A mended paper

We are part of the universal quill 

The ink that matters from the dark

Packed in a barrel invisible to this world

The nib forged of an element

Discovered winking in the Sun.

And the lightest agent of combustion 

To produce water will be crowned 

By a long buried sigil for unearthing.

So let flow the mimicry of your creeds

Letting angels bleed stardust and demons  

Sow seeds so the trail of lies you've left behind 

Staining the very fabric of our lives might

Be worth revising now if you don't mind.

A questioning

What is behavior if not a symptom of what is happening?

Since it seems to be modified for different audiences,
what modifications, if any, take place for one's self?

If one must ask what's happening, may one ever know?
Go ahead and ask yourself, why behave like that?

Dream Harder

When we dream, we access reservoirs of impossible memories. How so? Easily. Realize: "magic" (embedded within "imagination") appears to literally be the force behind creation itself. (Look no further than the Uncertainty Principle for proof of this.) Most of us forget there are four possible known states of matter (not just the three typical states of solid, liquid, and gas). The fourth known state is plasma (lightning itself is a form of it). My point? To remind you to realize that the entire universe--every galaxy, fusioning star, planetary system, ecological niche, asteroid, mineral, protein, bacteria, molecule, and atom--is inherently connected to each other in a single tapestry. The complete "Big Picture" of our existence should be understood as a "singularity", that is, something which may best be described as having the quality of "Oneness." Anyone reading this should already know by now that there appears to be more "empty space" in between the molecules which make up everything in existence than the amount of matter itself.

So how does all this relate to dreaming? Let's stop the busy pace of our routines for a moment and take a look around us. Everything we see, hear, smell, taste, touch, and feel exists in a universe which somehow dreamed us up out of oblivion and in return we ourselves dream of absolutely anything imagineable while we've lapsed back into unconsciousness during sleep. This "little sleep" we experience nightly appears to be a fractal of the "bigger sleep" we all must face, death itself. And so it goes. Death being the gateway (the "omega" to our birth's "alpha") through which this cyclical process continues endlessly as we are each individually restored to "Ground Zero" (the interminable period directly after the "Big Bang" and prior to the formation of stars). Thus matter itself appears to be eternally recycled through this universal process, and here we are today, with only one thing left to do. Dream harder.

Lucidus Terminus

The problem with our understanding of light begins with our insistence to treat outer space like water or any other elemental cocktail for that matter.  

Scientists have been asking about the medium that this electromagnetic wavelength would travel through  for ages yet have they considered their vacuum to be that condition without medium and therefore concluded indefatigably that the light crosses the void?  

It appears they have not for they are yet seeking to understand cosmic truths on their own terms.  

That is all well and good but we must ask ourselves have they sought to understand themselves as of yet?  

I'm afraid not,  otherwise they would know we are of the stars.  

Of this one thing I can remain certain due to an inescapable chain of perfect logical association.  

For what are the stars we see magnified when we peer through our most powerful telescopes but the images reaching us projected from before their long ago demise?  

But what does that even mean?  

The answer is simple and has been staring us in the face all of our lives. 

It means we are still alive.   

We are right now that one Sun out there blazing bright throughout the eternal night that are yet alive to experience the incredible rush of our headlong flight.  

As to another world and another time, "So what!" I exclaim.  

Our world here now still burns in its familiar glow.  

As humans our sight is granted in part by the presence of light itself which is picked up on (through our eyes) as the visible portion of the electromagnetic spectrum.  

Light is thought to be emitted and absorbed in tiny "packets" referred to as photons.  

Many photons are referred to as quanta. 

Photons are sort of imaginary particles we've devised in order to help us comprehend the nature of light and radiation itself.   

Non-ionizing radiation includes radio waves, heat and the visible light that reaches us from our Sun  (as opposed to ionizing radiation which is ultraviolet light, X-rays and gamma-rays reaching us from way beyond our lone isolated star).

Nestled in between the invisible shorter ultraviolet and the longer invisible infrared wavelengths we are comfortably placed in a cradle of visible light.   

Light exhibits wave-particle duality like any form of electromagnetic radiation.   

The spectrum goes something like this:  

|radio, microwave, infrared...
visible light 
...ultraviolet, X-rays, gamma-rays|

This spectrum should offer us a clue as to the property of our existence out here circling this lone star gracing a spiral arm of our slowly rotating galaxy.   

We emerged from an old radio broadcast that overheated and squeezed us out of the infrared zone until after another period of cooling off which we are all enjoying very much we will ultimately overheat once again going supernova and beyond into the ultraviolet as gamma-rays ourselves.  

We are not yet stardust. 

page in a note book

When using language it is pre-eminent that we first understand our definitions are only relative to the unique conditions inherent to the specific situation involved in our discussion; however, rarely are we conscious of this golden rule.  

The limitations imposed by our definitions cage us, rather than liberate us, when we fail to acknowledge the transmutability of language.  

It is a matter of perspective.  Perhaps humanity as a collective prefers to believe in an absolute truth—we gain a subconscious feeling of comfort from this—knowing the knowledgeable ground we maneuver through remains solid and consistent.  

Words themselves are a simplification of much more complex concepts.  A boulder is a chunk of a mountain; a rock a chunk from a boulder; a stone has an implication all its own; a pebble is generally seen as a smaller version of the preceding.  

However, the line is drawn arbitrarily by us, and is usually sufficient for the purposes we intend to convey.  These examples belong in a rudimentary subcategory of tangible concepts, and hence provide very minor, if any, stumbling blocks toward our successful communication of the ideas we are trying to get across.  

These words might be relegated to a category labelled "safe".  There exists another category which might be labelled "unsafe": those words are either describing much larger physical concepts (such as "world" or "universe") or may address more abstract concepts (such as "reality" or "truth"). 

After all, is not the word "mountain" but a subsection of the word "world"-?  In this gradation of physical concepts one can easily see the lines of meaning be erased by the discerning Escapist who wishes to take any of these available avenues into the shelter of anonymity in which to hide.