Friday, October 09, 2009


Nursing - Alex Grey


This dude was dead serious. Usually, when confronted with the latest outlandish denials of the way I have come to theorize nature operates, I sit back and watch with the amusement only a heretic can enjoy. This guy caught me with no snarky defenses up. He’d taken my favorite theme of Gaia, the being that is planet Earth, and made her the infinite source of what he claimed was the most nourishing of her bountiful gifts. Whereas rivers were her blood system cleansing and regenerating itself through the trees’ bronchial function and the respiration of the evaporation/condensation cycle, he proposed yet another metaphor to go along with that.

With a very calm face framing clear unblinking brown eyes that turned to look directly at each of the people on either side of him and the line of people within earshot of his earnest voice across the long table and announced, “Oil is the milk of earth, produced in response to starving humans.”

Boy those oil companies are good.


No matter how well I have learned to live in the spontaneity of here now, no matter how undistracted I might be by the machinations of the civilization that assumes authority and ownership over wherever I am, no matter how far meditating on the sunrise may take me from the concerns of this body, when I return to walkin’ and talkin’ consciousness there is this momentum of expectation, this anticipation that seems to arise whenever curiosity is active.

It is puzzling to me.

My curiosity is completely informed wherever it wanders or is led so long as it doesn’t seem to stumble and stop to formulate questions requiring verbal versions of where I am. Then — all of a sudden time rushes in as the duration of gathering the precise wherewithal from language’s bountiful garden of verbiage to describe the least iota of the profundity of the implications beheld in that instant of inspiration in the most articulate grouping of words or sounds to ears that may yet need years to hear, if they care at all, is weighed against the worth of its effect on the thinking and behavior of those who may possibly get it as my western civilization trained mind struggles to measure the worth of my time in offering to the world samples of my free thinking as if it were a commodity more valuable than my merely living according to such insights for myself. Sheesh.

Considering the trickle of feedback this blog evokes, I suppose the patience I exert in my desire to pierce the walls of the invisible prison of closed minds could imply a masochist in a hurry.

Icarus - Nicolas Ainley


I was just watching an episode of David Attenborough’s Life in the Undergrowth and was struck by the similarity of some of the flying insects’ instinctual hiving and semi-dormant pupating within a protective chrysalis for the major part of their existence to some human’s urbanizing and semi-conscious procrastination of a full life within the protective confines of a pay-as-you-go civilization for a major part, if not all, of their cubically enclosed life only dreaming of having the wings effete authority assures us come at the end of employment in the form of a carrot or at the end of life as some sort of angelic Icarus’.


Pisces Iscariot said...

"Considering the trickle of feedback this blog evokes, I suppose the patience I exert in my desire to pierce the walls of the invisible prison of closed minds could imply a masochist in a hurry."
It's only masochistic if it is enjoyable and painful. If it's not enjoyable we're pissing in the wind; if it's painful then it is only the ego that is hurting. I've come to this point on numerous occasion during the few years since I entered the blogofear and have come to the conclusion that we should be happy merely to see our words on the screen - everything else is icing :)

Having said that, I, for one, would find this a darker place without your thoughts and ideas.

Keep on trucking.

Yodood said...

You, Sir, are empirical evidence of and inspiration for my evolving idea of community of mind being a natural allegiance no matter where on the war torn planet the bodies happen to be.

Instead of owned, therefore defensible, national borders there are evolving nodes of density around special interests shared as a natural outgrowth of art and curiosity within which few participants restrict themselves exclusively so that all deal with about as much as they care to take in … having that button John Brunner said kept the damned thing from actually being automatic.

BTW, Mr. Humbleness,
It cannot be that the depth of meaning I derive from your work is because I am profoundly deep while you are "happy merely to see our words on the screen - everything else is icing." I guess that makes me one of them there intoxicated sumointellectuals seeing galaxies in broken glass or you enjoy the pain as much as I do. It reminds me I still care enough about being in my life to deal with it;D

Truckin' is as truckin' groks it is.

Pisces Iscariot said...

I have lived on three continents and can find no other community to which I would rather belong than that of the mind. I am therefore happy to be inspiration :)

Re: BTW - humility was most certainly not what I was trying to portray in my previous comment, rather that the ebb and flow of responses to what we write can become a narcotic to which it is all too easy to succumb - hence I remind myself after every posting that is is enough to have created something that please myself and that any responses are 'icing'.
The pain to which you refer is the realisation that today's dose of recognition does not provide any more nourishment than yesterday's. A miniscule taste of the soul-sapping treadmill inhabited by those who live under the glare of 'fame'

word verification: horyoloo (communal toilet in a run-down brothel?)

Dylon Gookin said...

Funny, I'd long lost hope to find a blog such as this, and when I do find it, I wasn't even looking. Your writing is complex, though I'm sure you were aware of this, but understandable on an intense level. I could also compliment your diverse vocabulary and use of literal imagery to promote your ideas, but it's the Thoughts behind this post I'd truly enjoy commending. In particular: On Endurcing Impatience. Perhaps I've misunderstood it, though I do believe verbal description is not required for all streams of consciousness and state of mind, which is why you wrote that post in the first place. To indicate a point of status indescribable but through a paragraphical example. With luck, the minds around us will learn and adapt to being open, though the change may never come in our lifetime. May we be the catalyst to said reaction though? Keep thinking. And please, keep writing.