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.

11/12/21

The Penumbra of Time





After plundering pockets of circumstance we pack our baggage 

for every hundred thousand orrerys that wobble off balance 
one sits stabilized at the center of a region so disproportionately vast
it should go without saying even the notion of exploring it is crass
in a scenario such as this it would warrant a long crumpled drag 
on a cigarette burning cooler than the embers scattered across Hell 
then flicked off into dead mist crumbling a trail of sparks behind it.

Standing on the fire escape at night with a bucket of animal bones 
time is the puzzle completed and we are the echoes still catching up
reflected in the mirror of the stars as if frozen under stadium lights 
a coliseum where the prisoners are all hidden and the warden's lost
gone off in his head in the state of Catatonia on vacation in Key West
floating in a sea of bath salts flown in under the radar over the border
landing in a corn field under moonlight in the frozen dead of night.

Memories rolled up into tubes and filed away for a never arriving day
impressions of a transcript of simulated replicas impersonating a model
casting the shadow of a reflection reproducing an archetypal effigy 
outlining the representation of a remote desolate unidentified likeness 
all the usual suspects lined up glittering near the Tannhäuser Gate
leave a long forgotten trail behind them sunken into dreams halfway erased
adrift across the gulf of the Obliterate Dust unbound into a photograph.






5/19/21

Paragraphic Holodox



                                                                art by Prince Satyrn




   The nano-missive I've received continues to indicate an endless transmission reflecting a focus of intent on behalf of what appears to be one of the last surviving teams of humanity (stranded on Ceres) sometime in the future. Apparently by encoding everything onto nano-circuits embedded on neutrinos beamed into the heart of Sagittarius A*, they managed to send this fleet of programming back in time to a range of specified years including 2009, where it was absorbed ostensibly by a radiology patient transporter on duty in the process of bringing an aging war veteran in for a nuclear medicine stress test.  The C-arm parked out in the hallway was on  and acting funny as they passed by, and a blue arc of laser light flared in the peripheral vision of the patient transporter after turning his head forward from having glanced over at it. The flash left a photo-impression after image behind his eye lids. 

   The transporter lived in a mid-western city somewhere in continental North America. That's when he first had the idea to start up a fanzine  in the form of a blog on the world wide web.  Little did he realize then that he was operating on an imperative sent back in time to possess his consciousness into doing something just for the benefit of the endeavor rather than to sell it. As the nanohorde encoded his neural network with sub-programmed commands (from what turns out to later become a shed alternate ghost world) apparently sent in a final desperate attempt to anchor the stabilization of our own ongoing timeline to develop into a more cohesive and sustainable post-cybernetic environment, the carrier of this electromagnetic wave of information was beginning to fathom more of the shape these events had spurred on for him. 

   I've come to realize from a sharper tuned intuition that he wasn't the only human subject acting as a conducive rod channeling various commands sent tacitly from the last few stranded bases of surviving colonists in the solar system. Here today there are hundreds or more of us, an undue amount really, potentially the entire human race today as we know it. I've been thinking lately about how neutrinos leave streaks of light when they pass through the purest water. As they penetrate our planet's oceans, they must barely leave a discernible ambient flash, then; too brief and faint to be registered in a normal human's eyes. Cephalopods and various insects have been known for their ability to detect polarized light. But I digress. It has led to a strange thought.

   The neutrino itself therefore has been revealed to me as having remained the entirety of the universe compressed into a singularity which manages to be mirrored by a duplication process not unlike cloning from a branched off membrane which is assimilated into the growing milieu of the evolving morphological universe, itself the opposed counterbalance in a singularity altogether familiar with our own domain yet somehow incomprehensibly different. One way of thinking of what I mean is to realize all the rain drops in this mind exercise represent every neutrino as actual reflections of the one singular neutrino in existence and that very solid object appears to be our universe with this planet and current species of humanity yet surviving upon it as we apparently continue to plunge in motion through a process involving the spacetime continuum. Of course it's the only thing faster than light, and it projects through a million different facets stitching us into existence. 

   There's evidence to suggest this singularity keeps repeating its programming in a never ending loop of such gradually decaying simulation that the differentials spawned grow not into yet more shed ghosts of future developments, but rather, constantly shape and mold the singular possible existence here frozen in eternity and possessed by the illusion of constant movement to the point that even in our resting state of deep sleep every night occurring with metronomic persistence we are unable to really wake up from our conditioning to realize this motion has been conducting us into dreaming all along. 

   We're machines powered by electromagnetic forces beyond our comprehension which nonetheless animate our existence with absolute authority even down to the intricately worked out details of a predetermined future destined to remain eternal despite our inability to understand the whole of it, much less any single part of which it's comprised. The fractal holography paradox appears to never blink because we operate on differentiating frequencies while staring into the same universal mirror together.   


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4/7/21

Focusing on Context

 




    If the future represents death (and there's no doubt that it does) then a re-examination of the present becomes necessary for us to gain a better understanding of the actual context of our position among the stars.  

   Now that we've outlined time as having necessarily produced a myriad pockets of equilibrium by virtue of the revolutionary actions of solar systems either functioning independently or in tandem (depending on whether or not they belong to a larger cluster of stars), we've identified the galactic region in which we dwell as being located within a barycentric zone where time achieves an equipoised stability or composure that effectively produces the era in which we are sustainably permitted to live out our lifespans. 

   It's this epoch of counterpoised stabilization generated by the massive gravitational flux from either our own individual Sun or quite possibly including the cluster of related stars which should be seen as being tantamount to a sort of pool or reservoir, if you will, which is to say, a temporal body or zone of the spacetime continuum in which we are nestled. An area of sufficient harmony to have produced the serenity of life as we know it.  

   As a collective species, and despite all of our significant advancements in science and technology, I am left with the distinct impression that we are still psychologically trapped within the limited subjective scope of our view into having mistakenly projected our inherent (and indigenous) sense of three dimensions onto the canvas of what we consider to be "outer space." I suspect this may be the point at which we lose focus of our actual condition in the Milky Way galaxy. (It can be duly noted that we've even gone so far as to implement the word "space" as the primary noun we've modified with the word "outer".)  

   If we are to facilitate our progress moving forward in terms of continuing to discover the true context of our existence here on this planet on a scientific basis, it will become necessary for this newfound insight into the actual nature of our condition to become more commonly understood.  The reason for this is because the very point of our divergence from what's actually happening begins with our false presumption that the whole of space follows the same guiding proportions and measurement as does the vacuole of our atmosphere on Earth provide.  

   These are entirely distinct phenomena from each other while remaining parts and parcel of the whole. This pocket of air we breathe on Earth generated from our planet's spin and rotation about our central star resulting from the complex interaction of the fungal and vegetable kingdoms with elements such as light and water producing photosynthesis and generating life as we know it all happens within the more or less sealed or semi-impermeable bubble shielded from radiation by the interactive magnetic fields from both our Sun and home planet.   

   A better comprehension of these life-sustaining dynamics would perforce allow us as a species to discard whole reams of spurious thought which have been leading us on toward impossible pipe dreams and excess wastes of time, energy and money chasing our dreams in the wrong direction.  For example, we don't waste our precious reserves of time and energy trying to "seek alien life" or "expand space exploration" through the portals of hot springs, do we?  Perhaps we should...

   ...But of course not, because not only is the very notion absurd, but that's because we have an inherent understanding about hot springs and their limited function for us. We may immerse our bodies into them to relax in the heat and enjoy the benefits of soaking in their minerals, and that's about the extent of it.  I've come to the inevitable deduction that similarly, the deep fields--or ocean, if you will--of time represented by the vast distances between stars remains more along the lines of something we can certainly on occasion "go for a brief dip into the surface of" (as has been proven repeatedly by our stalwart astronauts) but by all means may end up quite likely being the case that going too much further (for example heading into interstellar space as the Voyager crafts have been remotely sent into) may remain the very antithesis of what we should aspire to do. (Speculations such as these serve as bookmarks. We should really remain open to changing our minds.)  

   I am not saying that this is certain. If anything, the expanse delineated by that zone in our region of space defined by our "temporal barycenter" has its own limits which may serve as the boundaries which we would no sooner think of crossing than we would (for example) surgically implant a foot on the side of our head. What would be the point of that? Certainly there's a possibility that our entire solar system should be open to our expansion:  just think of all the dwarf planets orbiting the gas giants, including Ceres which NASA recently discovered has more water on it than all of Earth's oceans combined.  We just need to keep the underlying context of our exploratory missions tempered with a foundation of solid reasoning, if you ask me.  

   In my opinion, we really need to get a better mental grip and gain a renewed objectivity by focusing our perspective on the context of our position in the galaxy before we waste too much more money, time and energy pursuing endeavors that may end up fruitless but for a shot at profiteering. It's a matter of getting our priorities in the right order. Why should we focus an extraordinary and unprecedented amount of money, time and energy trying to terraform Mars to make it hospitable for human habitation when that same money, time and energy could be shifted toward cleaning up and making our own planet once again hospitable to continue sustaining us with a renewable biodiversity

   But then again, we can't really advance that far as a species without trial and error. There's absolutely something to admire in our audacious exploits to the Moon and Mars, make no mistake about it. After all, they say you can't cook an omelet without cracking a few eggs. I really do believe nothing's impossible. Mainly because the prefix "im-" may be interpreted as meaning "before," which reveals a significant understanding of the word as simply indicating something that is "not yet possible." Perhaps our excursions into the surrounding neighborhood of our solar system will only serve to strengthen the conviction of the boundless nature of our own worldly parameters right here on this mysterious living organism we call home. 

   If our imaginations may conjure such apparent miracles as the dawn of aviation and space flight to the Moon and make them tangible realities, then let this serve as a reminder that it can work both ways, which is to say that we may also conceive of the true significance and context of such mysteries as the cosmos yet holds in store for us, so that we may be more optimally prepared to both confront what's necessary and to avoid what isn't expedient at too much cost. It's time to hedge our bets and gain new focus and objectivity. What are we here for in the first place if not to make things better for all mankind, instead of worse? 


   

    

   

Time To Get Going

 




   Until we better define the parameters of our experience together we'll continue devaluing the richness of our currency here. The problem has to do with a mistaken assumption and consequently unrealistic expectation of what the nature of our true setting happens to be. Our place's aspect to it remains largely inconsequential, when you consider our position from another angle. It's only time that we're actually located within. Our misunderstanding of our place in time results in the margin of error of an entire world. Think about it. 

   The definition of our world should not be limited to just the planetary mass known as Earth. That just happens to be a province of the forest we are born and buried in. Our world should more be defined as an electrifying continuum in which we are still processing the activity of our existence, more of the environmental aspect of a living colony yet undergoing evolutionary transmutations. 

   See, the idea of 'place' itself got cemented into place once upon a time, as it were, when the conceits of stories began getting taken too seriously by the glitterati modus operandi, which is to say,  you and I and everyone else who's been taken along for that ride. In a major sense the human condition is defined by the gilded stage. We are a creature so fascinated by mystery that we begin to believe in our own stories handed down through the generations. We're beings that look into the mirror of history and more often than not see fabrication and lies, being distracted from  Pardon the digression, back to my narrative. 

   An understanding of our proper setting being exclusively on the stage of time could improve matters wholescale. Since time equals distance, any travel away from our stellar region amounts to actual time travel (where in direct opposition to this phenomena, for example, the position of Earth serves as the lack of time travel). The capacity for this time travel remains relative to the point defining it. In other words, there should exist a vicinity which amounts to an amorphous aggregate comprised of not necessarily just our own solar system, but potentially that of a clutch of star systems, which together comprise a gravitational barycenter. That zone where time slows to a virtual stop or reaches a state of equilibrium.  

   Travel away from this barycenter necessarily heads into the future, or at least, that much closer towards it would be the least one could say. Make no mistake about it, the future is not next year when our stocks might go up, and the future's not in a hundred years when massive social evolution may or may not improve civilization by a remarkable degree; no. The real future is nothing but death