A notebook bulletin board
tacked on when randomly bored
applied thoughts in a scribblebook
open for the world to look who passes by
so fast to see like a needle in a haystack we
safely stash those innermost secrets thought to be
at least you see languishing up and into pristine
blossoms for you to pick and sniff and hope
they don't make you sick.


Spellbound Current

Start the river of time wide open flowing in immemorial grandeur 
Turn to the rivulets of blood compressed within mankind's veins 
Fueling its central transformers into galvanic turbines set to receive
Arterial emanations streaming in sequence from quasars to hearts

A complicated recycling undergoes a perpetual Möbius circuit 
Tracing exchanged laws of thermodynamics from nascent dissolution
Toward delivery of oblivion spun from infinitesimality to dominance
Through the spectrum of the most extreme to the imperceptible    

Challenges of the vital material connecting the nexus of the whole
To the consummate webbing of the labyrinth of entanglement 
Coursing between wavering oscillation and the staggering flux
Of the alternating polarities inherent to the voltaic firmament 

Simultaneously completing the integrated culmination and division
Of the proliferating fractional multitude of creation constituting
The establishment of a regenerative foundation of fatal breath
Siring vitality's annihilation laid down to rest above and below 

The stationary orbit of constant motion that surrounds the external
Manifestation of petrified incandescence in a transubstantiation 
Of cardinal plasma siphoned from zero into the singular totality
Sustaining the deliverance of our manifestation of ordered chaos



photo by the author Seaside OR November 2017

The principle of inversion strung through its correlative conclusion argues both for and against the truth because what's real for one may not apply to another despite all views to the contrary. Another way of stating all things may be seen should the lens through which they must be observed necessarily be corrected or cleaned. I'm haunted by the idea. I'm persecuted by the thought, while I'm still alive, that our ordinary viewpoint of how we actually rest, in motion, upon a planet spinning about our Sun—a solitary star in our own galaxy already teeming with untold stars beyond counting—may fall short of the reality by a significant margin, denoting our chances of survival. But I won't let it stop me from dreaming. 

That we are here, now remains all that we possess together during this turbulent time on Earth. Zoomed in and focused upon, our material universe knit together at the cellular level and stretched out into membranes which form the skin of the masks we wear on our journeys through the cold interstellar darkness remains outspread before us even as we hurl, tumbling in our waking and sleep, head over shoulders in sync racing along the same old spinning road as before.

There's no escaping this carousel, it's the only ride in town. It will lead you directly to Heaven or Hell, you best believe it, princess or clown. This I heard whispered in the left ear. An imp, apparently, leaving discreet suggestions. Either that or a manifestation of a base desire, dealt with externally. Only, looking about, it's not there. Just the insistent whispering in the ear, when passing by a window halfway open to the wind. An acoustic pareidolia of whispering sands. The cadence of a voice trying to make itself heard.

The merger with clairsentience appears on a scale of musical notes which either ascend or descend by orders of octaves describing this sonic passage known as the music of the spheres. A continuum referencing the form our manifestations must react upon here on this plane of physical existence we all find ourselves on. (This repetition. The first echo describing the ghost.)

The undying syllable repeated on the lips of those who live to pass on the story. The articulate heartbeat which keeps it alive: a ululation whose strident echoes eventually decay into the general electromagnetic signature. The reason both good and evil are only words made up by humans remains that all life appears harmonized on a scale of vibrating frequencies whose slope goes further up or farther down the spectrum, rendering those ideas as being merely of a higher or lower frequency to corresponding staves, and therefore of an entirely relative nature.

The Song of Light that is ourselves will continue its aria cascading against the alternating cacophany of the universe. The writing on the wall remains as a photoacoustic impression to dazzle and taunt us with its bioluminescense. When we reverse our expectation of our true places in the cosmos, we realize that the farthest distance from here becomes defined by the very parameters against our faces. When we begin to see ourselves as individual organisms expressed along a particular spacetime vector of this universe, each and every one of us ascribed to our own actual pin-point in time, then we may truly see each other as the only so-called "extraterrestrials" within reach worth giving a good god damn about, lost out here among the stars.

When preceding to explore the unfathomable with inquiries, remember to first examine the questions themselves to likely find them wanting. What may we agree upon to be the definition of alien, for instance?  That which operates on a different level and whose nature we may know nothing about? Analogous to this lies the question, how may we agree upon the all-encompassing definition of here?

We must recall what the process of alienation itself consists of, when examining our own nature. Once again this brings us to the moment of ourselves, and of looking in. But that's the very question. What does it mean to look in and what does it mean to look out? Looking without seeing. Knowing without reading. Seeing without knowing. Believing what we're seeing. Seeing what we believe.

One could just as easily point out that staring at the stars themselves describes the act of looking in and that examining cellular activity beneath our own skin through a microscope more accurately shows us the farthest ends of our universe in the very act of continuing to develop, in line with looking out from our perspective, in other words. Where we dwell upon an Outer Membrane, so to speak. Or rather, where we resonate throughout a section of the unfolding astral harmonies triggered by the age old lifelong interpenetrating cascade of spiraling galaxies.

To consider ourselves as infinitesimal parts of such a staggering scope may truly overwhelm us, which helps explain the merciful act of failing to comprehend it all. Meanwhile the manifestation of this unfettered, radiant symphonic creature continues to unwind amid the stars its long distance harmonic cry, a doppler song that should we take caution to hear on a dark and lonely night, we might hope to have our memory of what we heeded there erased, lest its howling haunt our occasional dreams, knowing we stand upon the fore decks of this creational ship.

By definition, anything we imagine cannot be classified as unreal, rendering the impossible to be a fleeting and prefatory condition. Only by interpersonal contact with each other may we reach the available population of the stars. All of the alien remains here together with us on this compacted planet from outer space.  One reason for this:  the unknown Other remains the only place which could render the alien moot. Another reason: so-called "outer space" happens to not be how it appears to us.

We all feel its supercharged microvibration at the sub planck level. Copies of ourselves could be shredding into the past through black holes bleeding neutrinos fired back in time, re-undergoing the exact process once again, always the first time in a complete circuit loop of concordant stasis rendered as a reflection of a perfect capture of our distinctiveness: the living, holographic universe thrums with intricacy. And then again each and every one of those individual duplicates could still easily be every one of us continuing on our spiraling construct in this endless hallway of mirrors, every carbon clone thinking they're the only ones facing existence alone. Every carbon copy clone being the only ones in existence to be known.



BORNE AGAIN [Notes Toward Being]

Around what new bends of the human experience could we plot a new story? 

What's the difference between an old story and a new one?

What if 5 different versions were told, of 5 different ways the same (old/new) story turned out?

What if 1 story were told--that of the 1 way all stories end up?

(This hints at the question of perspective. From what or whose perspective is the story being told? And for whom or what?)

If the fantastical story has reflected our present (or slipping away into historic) reality (as classic science fiction, for example, has functioned) would it be possible (or even desirable) to tell a story that does not? My answer is yes, because of our inherent fascination with (not to mention fear of) the unknown.

In order to write a story which effectively reveals the truly unknown it would take rendering one's imagination in a form previously unthought of. 

In order to even begin venturing beyond our established borderlines of the known, it would have to be determined what the elements of the known primarily consist of.

We're familiar with these tropes thanks to the enduring work and studies of the likes of Carl Jung, Joseph Campbell, and the great philosophers, poets, scientists, and writers of our time. 

To begin with, time itself must be subjected to the scrutiny which reveals its nature in relation to space and their intersection with ourselves. 

The computational power of the human brain may be seen as an ultimate reflection of the cosmos itself, just as the sophisticated complexity of a single leaf may remain comparable to that of humankind's most advanced technology. 

Are dreams and death the only things which may unlock our bond to this current paradigm of ours? Imagination appears to be another possibility. It not only invites us to, but dares us to think up something new. Something which lies just around the bend. In a direction that was never foreseen.

Because that's exactly how impending reality arrives and manifests. 

Perhaps strange new stories that should never happen need to be written in order to try to see to it that they don't ever come to fruition. 

Stories help us navigate our way together into the unknown. By reiterating the familiar old stories, we help triangulate our location and position during this voyage. By invoking uncanny new tales, we help decide which way to point and steer our exploratory ship forward, and which ways to avoid. 

Story telling appears to remain a necessary key by which we may unlock and attain our destiny. Come with me and I'll take you to a place where the most wonderful science fiction thriller tales are available online to read for free, simply follow the hyperlinked image below to the Freezine of Fantasy and Science Fiction and nevermind the suspended artwork: that will eventually make a slow comeback. Read away. They're only words after all. 


The Re-Ionization of Methuselah

The recent article about Methuselah, the oldest star in our galaxy, over forty billion years old, shows how it's dated as being roughly 650 million years older than the universe itself. 

Whether this be the skewed results of the differential between an age ascribed to a collective based on averaging the sum of its stars, or if its one of those inexplicable quantum paradoxes, who knows?

But I can't help but note the similarity in age difference between Methuselah and the known universe.

The first galaxies appeared after roughly six and a half million years or so, towards the end of the re-Ionization epoch. 

Could one of those first early galaxies possibly have been our own?

Unless Methuselah were found to be a wandering star, left over from the end of the re-Ionization epoch. Perhaps only certain stars, extremely rare across the universe, manage to survive long enough to evolve past a nomadic stage in their development. There could be a case built for extragalactic stars within our own Milky Way, having rolled on over here from their former courses.

What does our oldest star tell us about ourselves that we don't already know?

Now I think it was four years ago that it was revealed new calculations show Methuselah is not older than the universe, after all.  Unless this more recent article's intent remains to censure the quantum contradictions whose original calculations prove correct yet whose ministration into mass consensus must perforce be strained through a proper medium, if you will.  And even if we won't. You get the picture. This line of reasoning isn't malevolent nor with a microgram of bitter intent. It's just the way my thinking went. Note to self. Look up more information about the star Methuselah and contrast and compare patterns with anything else that may be triggered to mind.  



Image credit: ESA/Hubble & NASA

Humans have been dwelling around a Population One star for longer than memory can hold. Population Zero stars (by extension and in my fanciful imagination) include all the yet-to-be-born or much younger stars, either still forming or in the galactic process of preparing to give birth to their respective spinning systems; in other words, all the extraterrestrial civilizations potentially out there will naturally come to follow in the wake of our own existence. In a world where travel to other populated stars and their planetary colonies remains a challenging consideration to say the least (or perhaps merely an unreachable dream) there may linger a contiguous possibility of contact with beings yet to manifest in spacetime. It involves the crucial matter of continuing to survive. Talk about getting ahead of ourselves. Never mind. The way forward involves lucid dreaming. Consider the irony that our dream to reach the stars, while potentially not practical in the physical sense, might be transcended by our focus on actually dreaming in order to initiate contact.

A Population Zero Star would be the type, super rich in metals of course, that will soon spawn a good brood of exoplanets that will one day potentially host their own civilization or life-forms. (Remember that here and now, on Earth, we circle about a Population One Star.) Do the math. The best we could do toward establishing some form of contact with a possible extraterrestrial civilization or pristine alien ecology, at least in my view, would be to send a remote sensor device to that system that will monitor its ongoing situation. Of course the main problem with that would be the human race may not survive long enough to begin receiving the feedback. If we did manage to survive that long, by the time that life form's monitored feedback appeared on our radar, they'd be mere hatchlings in contrast to our far more ancient species. They would be newly emergent beings from 'nonexistence' into becoming their very own Population One star life forms. In a super accelerated dream time-sense, communication with this sentience may be possible, and certainly worthwhile attempting. Something of our essence may be imprinted upon them if we were to succeed in contacting them somehow through dreams, for instance. Who knows? They might end up becoming somewhat familiar with us by that method. We could devote ourselves to trying this long distance dream communication. By shouting forward down the right track, we just might put a "whisper into their caboose", so to speak. Again, who knows? We might haunt them yet. Think about what it means to be haunted.

The point which remains actively constructing itself as we move along these mysteriously configured celestial pathways together (our potential distant solar neighbors and ourselves) shows how we're separated by aspects of space and time as we somehow manage to each exist independently disassociated from one another. Our very electromagnetic nature may keep us discrete from one another, rather than a perceived failing in our nurtured capacities. Being surrounded every moment by the living void may incur both terror and wonder if pondered over enough, until one makes the connection that by the same token, there may also not be that much to this tangible something of our bodies, minds, and lives. Existence: what, exactly, does it appear to be? There's the rub: appearance must be relegated to that which we perceive. It may just as easily appear to us that we aren't merely scaled-down sentient bipeds in a colossal "cosmarium" (cosmic aquarium) so much as it may turn out that we're actually the entire cosmos itself--experiencing a case of confused identity.

We may not necessarily be able to engage in a practical discussion about things such as interstellar travel and the search for extraterrestrial life for the fundamental reason that life itself, insofar as how we've chosen to define it, may more realistically equate to the entirety of the cosmos plus the surrounding void itself, rather than the limited viewpoint of any one of its microscopic, individual bipedal components. As we unpack the quantum information still streaming in at our disposal (which Einstein greatly facilitated our comprehension of), the strange dynamic of our position within the spacetime continuum in relation to the remainder of our sprawling cosmos should crystallize in our minds and gain more focus over time.

Toward this end I have enjoyed ruminating over various ideas I've had, such as the Law of Inversion (which generally states that truth is usually closer to the opposite of what we assume it to be) with its ties in counter-intuition, and now my POPULATION ZERO idea posits to both resolve the Fermi Paradox as well as provide an ideal designation for the actual location of potential extraterrestrial civilizations or ecologies. Taking relativity into account, if alien wildlife were to appear not with but before and after us in time, then by definition all the old Population II stars and even older Population III stars and their respective life-forms would've gone extinct long before our own inception here, now leaving only stars forming in the wake directly after us which could conceivably become hosts to extraterrestrial civilizations or life-forms, thus neatly rendering their designated area as "Population Zero" stars; solar systems that are yet to be born and mature. Current population: zero.


The real me: Lacing Back Up

The real me: Lacing Back Up: The Singularity continues.  As of the writing of this sentence, the Kurzweilian Singularity, known as the " Technological Singula...


Trending Toward The Tesseracentric

Beauty as an ideal in the ancient philosophical thought of our forefathers reflects the necessary distinction of having to grant context to our perspective.

Wouldn't it be ironic if the Heliocentric model of our solar system implemented in modern times in fact were to reflect mankind's more egocentric perspective yet again--that of fixating, this time our Sun, into our typically limited notion of centrality, consequently committing another mistake analogous to the first time when we placed Earth at the center--and that we still haven't bothered to factor in the actual nature of our spacetime continuum (as noted by Einstein and the theory of relativity) into our 'model'?

Indeed it remains deliciously ironic.

And that is because the new Heliocentric model remains false. Just look at the two .gifs side by side depicted below, and note the more elegant Spirograph patterns signifying the old Geocentric model. (Click here to go to the original article) We'll get back to those in a bit.

Breaking concurrently and adding to the subtle complexity of this post-modern irony, the cultural meme of 'alternative facts' arrives just in time to further blur the case--which is fine by me--because it adds such a beautiful tang of resonance to the whole 'argument'.

There is no argument. It should be kept in mind these are models, after all. They both fall short of the splendor of the reality they each try to represent.

And that reality remains, to the best of my ability to indicate it, a sort of fourth-dimensional centrist focal point perspective suggested by the idea that in so-called 'space' all points remain the center--which is precisely the context of perspective we need to glimpse the implication of the bigger picture.

Must humankind wait another several generations before discovering this? That in fact--although both models depicted here fall short of the reality--the Geocentric model appears curiously closer to the truth than the rendered flat 2-dimensional Heliocentric model, which as far as I can tell should really be described more accurately as 'Solarcentric.'

What might come closer to nailing it would be a sort of "Tesseracentric" or cosmocentric model incorporating both the Solar and Geo aspects of our system, in addition to our juxtaposition amidst our galaxy, and furthermore its relation to the rest of the universe. Every particle of which remains in constant motion...in direct successive relation to one another.

Photo: Heliocentrism vs Geocentrism

The geocentric model is an outdated description of the solar system where the Earth is at the center of all the celestial bodies. The stars were thought to be fixed points on a celestial sphere that rotated around the Earth once a day while the planets followed complex orbits. This concept served as the predominant cosmological system in many civilizations for centuries until being replaced by the heliocentric model in the late 16th century. In contrast to geocentrism, heliocentrism claimed the Earth and other planets rotated around the Sun.

While the heliocentric model was proposed as early as 300 BC, it was not until the 16th century when a geometric mathematical model presented by Nicolaus Copernicus ushered in the Copernican Revolution. Over the course of the next century, observations by Johannes Kepler and Galileo Galilei helped solidify the heliocentric model as scientific fact. Further observations revealed that the Sun, although the center of the Solar System, was not the center of the galaxy or the Universe.

Source: http://goo.gl/6yw5jO

#ScienceGIF #Science #GIF #Heliocentric #Geocentric #Solar #SolarSystem #Orbit #Earth #Planets #Centric #Galileo #Copernicus
(.gif source:  Malin Christersson 2015)