Assignment 1: Connecting Experience and Text.
Length: Approx. 2-3 pages of formal writing.
All that is known is that it happened shortly after it all began. It was an uneasy time, a time of change and discovery. It had been as if the entire world was just some kind of unknowable labyrinth of knowledge and interaction. All the people seemed to know exactly what to do, and they moved around from place to place with precision and assuredness. Whenever one of these people would speak, an unimaginable string of complicated sounds would be produced. Some of the noises were sharp, and others were in lower tones. Their mouths moved as well, and according to the expression upon one’s face, current moods could be ascertained. The eyes were especially telling, for the seemed to convey an even higher level of communication that most commonly goes unrecognized. The eye is a perfect structure, and its ability to self-repair is unparalleled in the human body.
Under certain lighting, it would seem that some people’s eyes would reflect multiple sources of light, and it was not uncommon for some individuals to screen their faces with glassed spectacles. There had even been reports of monocles somewhere in the world.
To default back to more relative topics, it is necessary for one to examine the way in which a person can configure the expression produced by their eyes. This method of configuration became elucidated to me at a point where little else seemed to contain much knowledge. It had been as if the mysteries of the universe had unfolded before me, showcasing a diverse array of ornate scenery amongst the psychological equivalent of electrical induction. This bright and powerful electricity permeated my subconscious, ripping into untouched fields of data that had barely been accessed. It was as if a small metropolis had been rapidly blueprinted and synthesized within nanoseconds, and the only possible course of action was to go with the flow.
Logic temporarily departed from the thought process, and she began to tell me things that burned in a way that was irreversible once heard. The words at this point seemed to take on no meaning, though their meaning had never been clear to begin with, and at that instant, amidst the adrenaline-spiked waves of confusion, a teleportation took place. It brought me to a new place, a place where most things were bright and clear, as if the contrast had been amplified to the point of sickness. The scenes passed by like a an old VHS stuck on fast-forward, each frame a glimpse of unanticipated excitement and fear. It was difficult to tell which emotion had taken the upper hand at this point, but both emotions flooded the pit of my stomach to an almost nauseating extent. The teleportation persisted, lifting my thoughts into an even darker and stranger realm. I peered inside with my mind’s eye and examined that which possessed little meaning at this point.
There were many dark bars at this place. It wasn’t as happy and bright as the other places. If it could have manifested into physical form, it would be represented as a garbage bag full of rotten sludge. I examined this mental pictogram of a bag of s*** floating aimlessly and infuriatingly, almost as if it possessed a superiority complex. At this point, where it had seemed as though all logic and reason had been utterly abandoned, my subconscious deployed an unseen object. This object was highly sophisticated and technological. It possessed several multi-core processors, numerous terabytes of random access memory, and enough hexadecimals to tear the photons from a neutron star. The first process involved a close examination of registry inputs, a localized sub-routine scanner capable of extracting the most infected files, and transporting them merrily to the recycling bin.
This computational process was analogous to how structures leading to the parietal lobe in the brain rearrange themselves around the temporal-parietal junction, a veritable aid in the calculation of arithmetic terminology. It has been observed that a transmission deficiency at this junction can result from serious head trauma. This is known as Incalculia, and it is physically represented by lesions in the parietal lobe. It is not clear where such lesions might have come from, but what is clear is that even when a close proximity is apparent, that doesn’t seem nearly enough to spur on the necessary motivation to succeed. But he knew that it had to happen at some point, because without this, then there’s no reason to live, and without life, then there’s no reason to exist. Life in all it’s forms, all its beautiful and diverse forms is what rectified his constitution, for that which could not be described in words was undoubtedly a fallacy in itself, existing as an untouched mountaintop high above, soaring into unseen distances when riding on the wind. And as if that wasn’t enough to convince the skeptics, it might have been more obvious to him that these insignificant departures from consciousness were nothing but eccentric whisps floating from place to place, traversing the neural network like a flock of misguided birds, but it didn’t have to be that inordinate, it didn’t have to be the way that they make it seem, because it wasn’t that way to begin with. It was dissociation
Dissociation frequently occurs when the subject in question is on the verge of intimate contact. As for why this occurs it is difficult to ascertain, but the one point of truth is that life with this ailment is far from routine. Dissociation is the bane with which a person is submerged by thoughtless doubts and unseen demons, haunting a tainted where previously no haunting did exist. It was simply as if a carrier of subliminal, damning messages had infiltrated the data banks, intent on wreaking havoc. Perhaps this was the mechanism with which individuals underwent psycho-reconditioning, for he could no longer consider that which was alien to his mind, for his experiences extended far deeper into the realm of the self, and that is where the strategies for healing and contemplation must take place. There was little to no logic here, but that was not to say that he was incapable of forming logical thoughts or even designing subroutines which were capable of enacting complicated procedures for facilitating the formulation of inane equations, because that’s all they really were in the first place. It did not seem to make sense to him why he should endure this hardship, especially when more viable means were necessary. It was up to him to make the decisions and come to terms with the fact that travesties that had occurred in many years past would continually persist unless supplanted and concealed by the Box. He did not want to open the box, as it contained all the evil that had accumulated in his mind, which at this point would appear to be quite substantial. This evil did not manifest itself in any physical or mental sense, because he kept it well hidden in the back of his mind, but despite this, there was ample opportunity to demonstrate the fact that this evil truly did exist, and it was up to the possessor of such fleeting thought to endure enough hardship to the point where this evil could be consolidated. And that’s what it was really about in the first place. He’d developed a system by which emotions had been attached to a string of various feelings, and these feelings are what tied him to the bounds of reality. They were represented by thoughts of anguish and a realization that to make things right it was necessary entice the mind up to a plain of understanding that detached itself from the unrecognizable mass of reprehensible doubt. There were several outcomes to the situation, none of which could be fully understood. All that was known was that it happened, and that it should never happen again.
Thursday, August 3, 2017
1/17/2012
Stream of Consciousness #1 (Understanding the Universe and the World We Live In)
Some would claim that the universe is a very big place, stretching across an infinite amount of unexplored space, continuously expanding at an ever decelerating pace until one day, one random point in time, the expansion ceases, resulting in what is referred to
as the "Big Crunch" (with is a diametrically opposed event when compared to the Big
Bang, which is a theory that some astrologists and arm-chair scientists use to describe the
creation of our completely unexplored and not understood universe). Some think that a divine entity referred to as 'God' was responsible for the creation of our extraordinary existence, and there's nothing wrong with that, because for all we, as human beings, know and understand, it is very possible that some outside presence, some omnipotent and/or supreme being and/or manifestation of life, somehow created everything around us. Whether or not such a being exists, and if such a being was consciously aware of its creation may never be known, but that is the essence of what it is to be human; to never fully know. It is impossible for us to fully know or understand anything at all, and it's quite possible that we simply exist as heavily mutated forms of energy that somehow assembled together in the form of living cells to evolve over thousands, if not millions, of years, to eventually develop into the wonderful beings we are today.
We seem to believe that we are alive, and that we live on a planet called Earth, and are surrounded by some unexplainable vast area of space known as the Universe. This planet has been around for a few billion years, and our sun essentially 'powers' it. Without the sun there would be no life at all, and it's important to receive enough sunlight in order to obtain sufficient amounts of Vitamin D, which is absorbed through the skin. However, exposure to excess amounts of ultraviolet sunlight can have detrimental effects, such as skin cancer or irritating rashes. It is important to keep in mind that those with lighter skin pigmentation are more proficient at absorbing sunlight, as evolution in their colder environments, which were basked in much less sunlight when compared to a place like Africa, for example, made it so the body slowly lessened its melanin production, which is a key chemical used in the coloration of skin, eye, and hair. Additional melanin production was necessary for those residing in much more sun-heavy environments, as a higher degree of ultraviolet resistance coincides with darker, more melanin heavy skin.
Anyway, the universe is also a very strange place. In any direction and at any given time you've got all forms of bizarre galactic activity simultaneously occurring in obscure locations which may never be discovered. We as human being can only hope to observe such activities, study them, and extrapolate whatever information is possible given our limited understanding of such events. We have high powered telescopic devices, exceedingly complex computational machines, and an infinite amount of knowledge pertaining to areas of study we refer to as 'science'. Throughout history, people have pitted their minds against the forces which surround us, metaphorically attacked the meaning of what things are made of and why we are here. They have delved into incredibly deep and complex areas of abstract thought, running on the very fringes of human understanding in an attempt to formulate an appropriate hypothesis to describe or help ascertain their predictions, findings, and speculations. They have tinkered, tested, contemplated, wrote about, debated, mixed, mashed, and loved their pursuits, and it is impossible to deny that they contributed many great things to our present society.
But what is society? What are people? What is the brain? Well, these are all very complex questions requiring complex definitions which may or may not require many layers of elucidation to fully describe, but the main matter of import is that such questions exist, and that we as human beings exist in a seemingly timeless space, being gravitationally attracted to a sphere composed of certain life-sustaining elements, which simultaneously orbits a much more massive sphere located in the center of our so-called 'solar-system', which in turn exists on the outskirts of some arm of a so-called 'spiral-galaxy' which we have so appropriate labeled the 'milky-way'. Chances are, this spiral galaxy also orbits some other much more massive galactic entity, which perhaps orbits something else much more massive, etc. It is possible that this cycle extends into infinity, and in actual fact, our universe is simply a relatively insignificant realm of existence which orbits some external, much more massive thing. It is really quite impossible to say!
Some have speculated on the theory of multiple universes, multiple dimensions, and multiple realms of matter and/or anti-matter, which could perhaps be associated with black-hole formations, and being black holes, from which not even light can escape, it is possible to remain obstinate in the belief that such entities are miniature universes themselves. This may seem difficult to grasp, but if you consider the fact that most black holes derive from collapsed starts or other celestial bodies of impossible density, you could speculate that if such places were black holes exist are so incredibly massive, and therefore gravitationally powerful enough to attract and 'absorb' rays of light, the fastest thing in the universe, then perhaps it's not unlikely that such entities contain entire universes of their own. Perhaps our own universe is contained within some super-massive 'black hole' which exists in some other 'universe', and so on and so forth.
When you consider the appearance of human beings, and what they really are, it is virtually impossible to consider us products of the universe, because we cannot, and probably will not, fully understand the universe, so if we can't even understand the indescribably complex and unknowable space surrounding us and our planet of residence, then perhaps we've no hope of truly knowing ourselves. Perhaps we're all simply composed of celestial star material originating from countless billions of particles which have existed for eternity insomuch as we're acquainted with the term, as it is quite possible that reality is but a transient thing, ever shifting and oscillating obscurely in a timeless space, where particles of matter which can be telescopically examined down to their fundamental building blocks, are considered to be 'life'. Well, to such observers or particle composition, I ask, what isn't life? Is something life simply because it contains miscellaneous 'cells' which move and interact at minuscule levels to form exceedingly complex 'living' animals, plants, microorganisms, and other various things? It's all bullshit, because at the very basis of understanding, no human being knows or fully understands life or why it exists, so it is impossible to claim whether or not life exists and where it originated from, so instead we should focus on the universe and why it exists, and we should examine the other various entities present in this surrounding celestial environment which is so impossibly complex and diverse in terms of present forms of matter subsequently comprised of smaller pieces of matter, which are examinable down to endless levels of magnification, all designed to cooperate and exist in some predetermined state.
Quarks are interesting things, and they are postulated to be the building blocks of atoms, which are reputed to be the building blocks of molecules, which are the building blocks of elements depending on their level of valence electrons and relative molecular mass (measured in moles), which later form cells, which form tissues (such as in a body of human origin), which subsequently develop into something like an organ, and it's all held together in some web work of electromagnetic bonds, swirling around in some chemical soup of understanding.
At the very basis of such things, it is impossible to keep zooming in and finding more and more different building blocks, because our present technology only allows for so much magnification, and who really knows if it ever ends? Does anything ever end? Does a human 'life' simply extinguish, dissipate, or otherwise 'die' when a human body ceases from operation? Does a certain 'spirit' or 'consciousness' vacate the lifeless body, perhaps to visit some ethereal realm referred to as 'heaven' or the 'after world?' Does it just rise up into the sky on some unknown journey of eternal happiness and joy, completely as its own uncontrollable entity?
Is the incarnation of a human afterlife composed of matter? And what is that matter composed of? We live in a material world, in a material solar system, and material universe, so it's only logical to suggest that a so-called 'after-life' must contain some element of matter if it is to exist, but then I wonder...
Our thoughts... what are they? Surely an image in your mind cannot be matter, surely a conceptualization of the imagination cannot be attributed to some base elements or base understanding, some base building blocks or base knowledge derived from some ancient mind responsible for devising some incredibly complex or infinitely simple theory which describes or possibly attempts to explain how something as abstract as a 'thought' can even form in a timeless space, an infinite space, a space much more vast and all-encompassing when compared to something even as vast as the universe; the human mind.
Well, the human mind, or brain, cerebral cortex, cerebellum, gray matter, what have you, is a fairly miraculous thing. It's like some limitless realm of existence which every human being can explore and create in his or her own way, and they can do anything in there. They can think of anything, be anything, see anything, do anything. Dreams are what happens when the human mind enters a state of subconscious interaction, usually but not exclusively accessible during sleep. Lucid dreams are when one realizes that they're dreaming, which in some way imbues them with the ability to manipulate their dream to the point that they can truly do and feel any way they want, and they're capable of exploring any vista of understanding in this state, any plane of existence, any image or sensation.
These types of dreams are rare, but it is important for you to distinguish between what's a dream and what's reality, because it is not impossible to not be able to differentiate between the two, especially when images of exceptional visual clarity associated with intensely vivid emotions and/or experiences emerge at such times, though it may be quite possible to examine this realm of subconscious though, which is responsible for producing dreams, when you're not even dreaming at all.
It's called just thinking for a long time, and really getting to the root of your thoughts. Writing about them, exploring the very fringes of your innermost desires and experiences in this life, attempting to reconcile some base of understanding for yourself and others around you, attempting to develop some form of mental encapsulation which affects every fiber of your being, every tissue and every cell, smoldering with conscious awareness in some swirling, unfathomably abstract array of interconnectivity and sensation, feeling, life. Your heart is beating, your mind is operating like an engine or central processing unit, continually feeding every inch, every fiber of your being with predetermined instructions responsible for maintaining order within each individual human body. This is accomplished through electro-chemical transmission occurring along the synaptic pathways in the cerebral cortex and other various areas of the mind, all interacting in some orchestrated harmony of miraculous interactivity.
The frontal lobe is what's responsible for producing dopamine, which makes human beings feel 'happy' inside. It makes them feel warm in the pit of their stomachs, right near the heart, right in between the bottom of the ribcage, and it can easily be described as an impossibly bright glowing light, an intense muscular contraction which is continuously being stimulated by fresh blood flow, because the frontal lobe has deemed it necessary that this area be triggered in order for the host body to feel something strong, something that makes them want to life and spread life, something that permeates every realm of their being, extending to their limbs and to their fingertips, and subsequently to the brain itself, which is instructed to produce more dopamine so long as the stimulus responsible for producing it in the first place remains present. The frontal lobe can even be accessed and stimulated long after a pleasure-causing stimulus has been removed, and this event could be described as a residual effect of the initial excitement. This is because the human body longs for this feeling, and the impressions of stimuli which are responsible for producing it are stored in memory for later retrieval, as are many other emotions and experiences.
Such experiences and emotions which are associated to certain memories can also be harmful to the body, as they can activate certain areas of the mind related to fear, anxiety, stress, sadness, depression, greed, hatred, suffering, etc., and sometimes people continuously dwell on such experiences, because they are a necessary aspect of our humanity, and without them we'd be simple, pleasure seeking animals with no desire to explore, produce, or improve their surroundings via invention, creativity, or otherwise. However, it's certainly far more beneficial for the mind to inhabit the realm of happy thought (frontal lobe) more often than the other areas, as it will produce a much more pleasurable feeling in general. And every human being responds well to pleasurable feelings, because they are related to concepts such as love, friendship, intimacy, happiness, excitement, etc.
But, like anything, it's important not to overstimulate the mind with such pleasurable sensations, as after awhile the brain may become tolerant or even resistant to them, causing them to have less and less effect with each subsequent exposure to stimuli which produce such feelings.
As they say, everything in moderation, because too much of anything is a bad thing, and I'm sure any reasonably intelligent human being can attest to that piece of advice. Even turkey, when consumed in excess amounts, can have negative effects! Gobble gobble!
Stream of Consciousness #2 (Thoughts On Parenting and Health)
People are interesting creatures. They inherit genetic material from two parents, and during the process of pregnancy, a miraculous event takes place. I can't ever experience or fully comprehend such an event given the limitations of my gender, but I'm certain of the fact that it is quite a unique experience. It bothers me to know that there's a growing number of women in this world who'd prefer to abstain from childbearing altogether, but I suppose everyone has their reasons, and I'm sure there's just as many guys out there who do not want to be fathers. But then I wonder, at an instinctual level, aren't we biologically programed to want to reproduce?
Is it not hardwired into our DNA that we must create more life, continue the species, and direct all that pent-up, natural desire to love and nurture towards subsequent offspring? Where does it all go when we don't have kids? What happens to our conscious and subconscious minds, and are they negatively affected by such actions? If it is our primary drive to produce life, are we in some way harming our own by preventing that process? These are all very philosophical questions of a rhetorical nature, but they do tend to spark some thoughts on the subject.
Basically, many people aren't able to produce children for many reasons. Either they do not have a partner of the opposite sex, they are sterile or impotent, do not have enough money to do so, would simply prefer not to for various reasons, including the ability to focus on career-related pursuits, they do not have the time to raise children, a couple wants and is ready to have children but are experiencing difficulty when it comes to producing them, or they just do not feel that their current surrounding environment is appropriate for child-rearing.
There are obviously many other reasons, and there are all sorts of different factors associated with the production of children, but it really boggles the mind to consider how our current society views parenting and child-bearing in general.
I've noticed an increasingly disturbing trend which seems to have become ever popular since the growth in popularity of birth control and contraceptive devices, and it relates to how some women perceive the role of being a Mother, and how some men perceive the role of being a Father. These roles are biologically the most significant aspects of our existence, yet they seem to take little precedence in our daily lives.
On many occasions I have observed women who believe that being a mother isn't 'cool' in anyway, and that they'd rather forgo child-bearing for various reasons (many of which are mentioned above). Well, I'm not a woman, and I can't know what it's like to take on the role of mother, but why has it all of a sudden become uncool? Why decide that you don't want kids at all, especially if you're an intelligent, beautiful, and naturally intuitive, creative, understanding person? Aren't these all positive traits that would greatly benefit society?
Well, on behalf of the women who feel this way, I can partially understand their reason considering the state of our world today. Whether we care to admit it or not, we live in a society rife with corruption, depression, addiction, rampant materialism, irreversible environmental contamination, and many, many psychologically unfit individuals who enjoy nothing more than bring pain and misfortune to others simply to compensate for their own lack of morals and intelligence.
Who'd want to bring kids into such a fucked up environment? Chances are, in some cases your child might have a better chance dropping out of school and becoming a stripper and/or street thug / drug user than pursing higher education and wanting to make a difference in a world so overflowing with degradation.
However, with all this mess surrounding us, with all this confusion and uncertainty permeating our conscious and subconscious minds at any given moment, it is so fundamentally important to be true to yourself, to love yourself, to explore your own imagination, your own thoughts, to let your body naturally tell you the right course of action, the right things to eat, the right actions to take - listen to your body, it's an amazing organism, and it's capable of instructing you on how to be truly satisfied with your life so you can be the person who you want to be.
It's far too easy to get trapped in our own minds, get stuck up in individual trains of though and forget that it's much more relieving and enjoyable to examine things from afar, to step out of that mental rut and stop examining every little situation in such minute detail that it causes you fear and anxiety. These are the two most prevalent conditions in North America, but it doesn't need to be that way. We don't need to constantly worry about how others view us, and we don't need to live in fear of being judged or being put on display in some way, because chances are, others feel the exact same way as you, and the only way to overcome these confusing feelings of self-doubt is to open your mind.
Expose yourself to good literature, write about your life, write about random experiences, just whatever comes to mind, word after word without proper punctuation or spelling - it will all come with enough practice and enough thought.
You need to reach the very root, the very forefront of your imagination, the essence of your mind's eye, and everything can and will be revealed. It's like you're sailing through some smooth, unexplainable mental vista that transports your consciousness across an endless journey of calm, peaceful detachment, a natural escape, a freeing experience which leaves you with centralized feeling of satisfaction and contentedness.
The mind is a very complex thing, and I believe that many of our problems originate in the mind. However, all of the solutions to those problems also exist in the mind, and it's up to the individual if they want to try and confront and overcome them or not.
It takes a lot less effort to ignore them and allow them to manifest in various ways, because it's so much easier to go with the flow of things, to allow the addictions, the distractions, the obsession with self-image and the constant self-doubt to take over - but it does not, and it should not have to. You should be happy regardless of these things, and you should reach for this happyness, grasp on to it and live in it, caress it and ignore the fear, Fear us what debilitates us in the most horrendous way. It binds us to the very things we've been taught to avoid, and it drives us into very dark places when we least expect it.
It's important to remember that you cannot change or improve anything at once when it comes to the mind. Everything is a gradual process, and although our society demands everything instantly and we're all guilty of impatience, it is not impossible to teach your mind the value of taking things slowly, and enjoying the process along the way.
Start with the simple things, the small things, and allow the progression to occur in its own way, because it will happen, and you do not need to worry. Worrying only creates doubt, and that in turn causes sadness and distress, but there's no reason that we can't stop and think for a moment, and examine what it is that really makes us worry, or why we feel sad in any way.
You cannot ignore these feelings, and you cannot pretend to hide them, because when you do that, they only get driven into your subconscious, where they can potentially do more damage, but regardless of this, everyone is capable of freeing their minds, of allowing their thoughts to drift listlessly like a rolling white cloud on a beautiful blue day, overlooking a windswept sea at the break of dawn.
One of the most important aspects to maintaining this tract of positive thinking is allowing yourself to sleep and wake up at appropriate times. This may seem obvious, but it helps more than you can imagine. A good night of rest can really help your mind recharge, which in turn allows your body to function normally and healthily the following day. Sleep is a wonderful thing, but it can also be addictive so don't overdo it :)
Remember to wake up early so you can feel productive during the day, because by waking up late it's much easier to feel lethargic and useless.
Well, the next thing I was going to talk about was diet, because that's a huge thing. The food you put into your body has such a big impact on your you feel and how you mood flows during the day, so just remember to avoid sugary shit and eat greens, nuts, fruits, and vegetables, and you will feel it in your gut when you eat something healthy and good. That's your body basically saying thank you for giving it items of high nutritional value!
Also, I've been told that the biggest problem with the North American diet right now is Vitamin D deficiency, so it's important to take a supplement of Vitamin D, and it doesn't hurt to take Cod Liver Oil as well, as this well prevent sickness and generally boost your mood.
Stream of Consciousness #3 (Technology)
Technology is everywhere. It will always be heavily active in our lives whether we realize it or not, because that is how our society has been allowed to develop, and it's only natural for us to learn to embrace such advancements. I once worked in a technology store and I sold people computers, printers, and other miscellaneous articles of technological importance. It was quite a unique experience, because it granted me deeper insight on how the growing trend of microelectronics and other various items of import have helped shape peoples personalities, values, and even appearance.
I remember quite vividly the time when this particular individual approached me whilst I was tending the desktop computer section of our store (Staples Business Depot). He seemed quite impatient about something or other, as though some unobtainable goal was set on the very fringe of his mind, constantly evading his desperate grasp. He did inform me that he required an exceptionally powerful personal computer in order to improve his online gaming experience. I then directed him towards one of our most expensive models of Hewlett Packard computer, and after my brief description of hard drive space, central processing unit clock speed (along with front side bus speed), random access memory potential, optical drive capabilities, video and graphics processing unit strength, and warranty value, he seemed quite convinced.
I then asked, 'what form of gaming are you participating in which requires such a powerful computer?' (though I did not abide by this particular use of diction). Whereupon he did mention that he was an online poker player. Online poker? Well, I hadn't played much myself, but I was under the impression that it didn't require a very strong computer, and that it was mostly.... stored online.
Well fuck, this guy was greasy as sin, and his ragged hair bespoke of many a fortnight spent basking under sickly computer monitor light, whilst his his remained firmly planted in his worn out computer chair. He didn't even seem capable of forming a coherent sentence, and I predicted that he'd probably swindled whatever money he'd received from online endeavors. It didn't matter to me though, it didn't matter to anyone, because the internet was like some gargantuan river speeding down a coastline of industrial waste at speeds unchecked, careening through unseen lands and across oceans of black, extending to ever corner of human consciousness, driving up the senses in some bizarre, instinctual bliss evoked through continual exposure to this disembodying experience where cybernetic interactions react with the cerebral cortex with a myriad different electromagnetic signals interfering with an incalculable sum of various neurological chemicals, constantly swirling and swaying amid a primordial soup of evolutionary perfectionism.
And in that point of time, when the globe rotated on its axis so casually as I expected it would, as it had never ceased in this behavior, and it was because of this that I remained firmly planted on the ground at this moment, due to the more recently discovered forces of gravity, courtesy of Sir Isaac Newton, who is reputed to have pursued such a mode of understanding after being assailed with a small fruit which presumably landed upon his skull under some tree in some distant land when things were far different, and people treated each other in a vastly different way, and the landscape itself would virtually be unrecognizable when compared to our current industrialized environment - I wondered further still, why does this man require an expensive, 7.1 surround sound speaker system for his computational device, and in what relation would such an apparatus have with online poker success?
It occurred to me then that perhaps he did not require the speakers for anything more than quality, digital music production, which can occur in a personal computer after the song file, which is magnetically stored on the hard disk drive; a continuously spinning device which is responsible for storing permanent memory for later retrieval via a data extracting arm piece which directly interfaces with the central processing unit through Firewire or Integrated Device Electronics cables (IDE). Should such a command be given, which in most computers is quite possible by interfacing with an operating system with a human interface device, such as a mouse or keyboard, then this song file, presumably encoded into an MP3 format, will travel along the wires connecting the disk drive to the CPU in the form of electromagnetic signals that can, at the base level of computing, be represented by binary (1's and 0's), and then it goes to the sound card thingy and to the speaker thingys from there were it pumps out as sound waves, which are created through the propagation of motion and reverberation of, in this particular case, air molecules.
It's all very interesting stuff, and even though that store is still in operation to this very day, with the same individuals manning the forward cash registers and conversing about the same topics of interest, examining the same routines on a day to day bases liked preprogrammed ants participating in the never ending construction of an impossibly intricate sand hill; I work there no longer. And part of me then wonders, what happened to the man with the online poker addiction? Was he even addicted to it at all? Was my mind simply lodged in such an obscure plane of thinking that nothing even made sense during this social interaction, which could more accurately be described as a business transaction considering that the man soon purchased the expensive electronics, including the extended warranty attachment which benefited myself in some way? Perhaps, but perhaps we'll never know, because it's impossible to know, and currently, it's impossible to traverse the infinitely vast bounds of the universe as we know it, despite our amazing technological advancements.
We're still trapped on this goddamn sphere of blue and green, and ever increasingly, gray. The concrete jungles in all their sprawling splendor are undoubtedly beginning to wrap their environmentally unsound tendrils around the most natural of landscapes, threatening to devour the very essence of humanity by consuming the green life which surrounds us, making us more and more inhuman with every passing day, though it is as if some individuals are hoping for this to come sooner than later. They do not perceive themselves as human beings with lived and histories and genetic and racial attributes which according to nature, can not be ignored. When ignored, the person simply does not live the life they can ever truly be content with, though in our current society where time constraints, deadlines, and other miscellaneous bounds which prevent us from delving deeper into our own minds for the purpose of better understanding ourselves and the world around us, it is quite difficult to be fully content with anything, and it should not be expected, perfection should never be expected, but that does not mean it should not be pursued.
Stream of Consciousness #4 (Genetic Memory)
................
Thoughts. Memories. Various images that seem to control themselves effortlessly and at any given moment, stored deeply beneath the realm of the subconscious, which can usually be accessed during dream-like states, provided that the body is functioning within normal parameters.
What does all this mean? Well, there's been a concept floating around, and it was theorized by experimental psychologist Carl Jung. It's called 'genetic memory', and it states that within each individual cell there exists certain instructions which have been passed down through millions of years of evolution. These instructions exist as a way to promote survival and reinforce certain instincts which are appropriate to the species surrounding environment.
This most interesting thing about this idea is that it extends to brain cells, which includes memory and experience. The fact that some people have reputedly been able to speak different languages or recall distant visions from the past while under hypnosis or any other consciousness altering state of mind shows that within all of us there exists certain genetic links to our past ancestors.
As genetic material is passed on from one generation to the next in a never-ending chain of survival and breeding, it's likely that this genetic information is allowing us to become much more intelligent with each passing year, each passing century, as our bodies and our minds adapt continuously to the surrounding environment.
This means that as you grow older, all the things you think about and do will be stored into various cells, the most obvious of which are located in the brain, and being a living organism, it will perceive this information as being conducive to its survival, with the purpose of passing on such traits to the following generation of offspring.
This allows me to believe that there is hope for humanity. Although things are so exceedingly materialistic and overblown with glamour and image, I don't think this will last forever. I would like nothing more than to believe that somewhere down the road there will be another 'enlightenment' or 'renaissance' in which human beings begin to detach from their rabid pursuit of wealth and beauty for the sake of vanity, and begin to deeply contemplate the forces around them, begin to really consider why things are the way they are in an attempt to further understand their world and themselves.
It is naive for me to think that this will occur soon, seeing as how things are the way they are, but there is nothing wrong with that. Humanity in general is in a transitory state, as we've leapt and bound over so many complex hurdles in the last 100, if not 50 years. If you consider that humans have only been around, at least as far as human history dictates, for 5000 years, our current information age is but a drop in the proverbial hat of human existence. We've developed such exceedingly complex devices designed to examine a myriad different sources of information that I do not believe our minds are fully capable of comprehending the significance of this shift as of yet.
But, that is the beauty of evolution, and I believe this ties in strongly with the concept of genetic memory. As things get faster and faster, and human beings absorb more and more information, becoming increasingly literate, articulate, contemplative and introspective as we retreat into our own realms of understanding and knowledge, the world will slowly evolve into a place which values knowledge over wealth.
In my belief, such a world would be utopian. Think of how your life would be like if you never had to worry about money? What if you never had to visit a bank, write a check, deal with a credit card company, pay a bill, swipe a card, live with debt, mortgage, hidden costs, or anything... a world where your primary asset was your mind, where you were encouraged to sift through it as deeply as possible, probing the very root of your conscious and subconscious realm of thought.
I think this is secretly what we all want, because as it is right now, we're all bound by the green devil that is a dollar bill, and it looms above us like a blood sucking bat with terrifying wings, ready to strike and drive us into sporadic bouts of despair, greed, and conflict.
It is the number one source of conflict in this word, and the number one cause of divorce and breakups in relationships. That fact alone speaks volume about the subject. The fact that something as trivial as money has taken precedence over the natural human instinct to be with a mate, to feel love and give love in return, abhors me. It means that it is always lurking at the backs of our minds, constantly threatening to harm our confidence, self-esteem, and ability to enjoy life.
There are many in this world who do not have this issue, as they have managed to acquire significant amounts of material wealth, or they are stable enough to not have to worry about it. There is nothing wrong with this, as in our society it is only natural to desire wealth in excess amounts, but this may lead to the development of a mentality which seeks to demonstrate their wealth, and subsequently power, over others.
This is an interesting topic, because rarely do we consider the fact that there are those who gain a certain measure of satisfaction from exhibiting their personal wealth, and it makes them feel somewhat entitles to certain benefits that the rest of us aren't likely to receive. We've been indoctrinated through mass media and celebrity worship that being rich and famous leads to a fantasy life style, at least compared to those who lack such status.
Of course, we're all cognizant enough to realize that even the richest person might not be happy or content with anything, and that the poorest person might be the happiest in the world. But based off logic, it's more often than not that the opposite is true. The simple fact is; those with wealth are usually destined to have access to more opportunities, experiences, and items of material significance than those without. This is a simple fact, and it does not imply that wealth is a bad thing, because the truth is, we all desire it. We desire it so much, that we're willing to forego childbearing, limit our intellectual engagement, limit our social contact, physically harm ourselves, and possibly harm others in order to attain it.
Such instances of greed, theft, deceit, jealousy, hatred, depression, anxiety, etc., are very commonly associated with money, because as it has been said, it is the 'root of all evil.'
Well, if that is true, than wouldn't it also be true that valuing human experiences such as spreading true emotion and engaging intellectual pursuits in order to reinforce mental traits related to genetic memory so that future generations may get smarter and smarter, and less influenced by empty, materialistic pursuits, is the root of all 'good'?
I parenthesize the terms good and evil because they cannot be truly defined in a way that applies to every individual situation and every individual person. But in a nutshell, I would simply state that good and evil are polar opposites, and you can't have one without the other. There must be a balance, because as I mentioned in a previous stream of consciousness, too much of anything is not good, and it's important to take everything in moderation.
An appropriate counterbalance of good and evil may sound difficult to understand, but if you consider that within our minds exists the capacity to exact either force, then you can understand that in order to fully experience our realm of understanding as it exists within our minds, there must be no stone unturned, no door left closed. You must open yourself to every thought, every experience, as long as it doesn't harm you or dislodge your sense of being.
It is important to listen to your body, listen to your mind, and follow the instructions as an outside observer. Only then can truthfulness come, and it is impossible to expect everything to come immediate, as nothing is without a certain degree of patience, even in light of our present emphasis on immediacy and convenience.
In referring to genetic memory, it is quite possible that your values, morals, image, and beliefs will continue on in your children, their children, and so on, so you must understand that you are responsible for everything you do, and you can't expect to help anyone else unless you help yourself first. This does not in any way imply that you should make any immediate changes or deny the things that bring you happiness and joy, but it might be necessary to simply reevaluate them, perhaps manage your time differently, and even set your sights on the future ahead.
I don't like goal setting because some of us are destined to devise a system of goals which ensures failure, or they fail to abide by their goals in the first place, but since we are only human, this is only natural. Instead, just think about the person you want to be, think about the feelings you want to feel, and allow that image to flourish in your mind, allow it to bind to your innermost thoughts and permeate your imagination.
Constantly repeat this image in your mind throughout the day until it is so rooted in your subconscious that even thinking about it causes you happiness. Just believing that you could one day be that person, whether it's possible or true or not, gives us a feeling of hope, and it helps us develop into much more genuine people, much more sensitive and intuitive people; the type of people we really are.
Spend hours, perhaps entire evenings, just exploring your mind. You'd be amazed at what you can find there, and do not let the conflicts and problems bar you from delving deeper and deeper. Nobody is perfect and everyone has problems, so don't let them affect you in a wholly negative way, observe them instead, step outside of them, detach yourself from their grasp and simply examine how they may have affected your life for better or for worse.
Examine the world around you, the events taking place, the people involved with such events and what their actions were. Consider what they may have been thinking and how they may have interpreted the entire course of events, and allow yourself to overcome the entire situation. Allow yourself to step above it, step away from it, and put it into an easily digestible context.
It will seem like small images being pushed back into a place where they cannot harm you, and they will not harm you, because they are just memories, just actions and experiences linked to external forces, including outside events and the actions and thoughts of other people. I believe we waste entirely too much time on discussing what other people think and why they do things, instead of focusing on what we think and why we do things.
But again, this is only a natural, instinctual thing, and you cannot expect to modify this process immediately. And you shouldn't have to, because it's not necessary to push your mind into any area that makes you feel uncomfortable or uncertain in any way.
In the thousands of years before us, and the untold millions ahead, think to yourself, why am I here? This is a big question, but do not let it overwhelm you. The simply answer is that you are a product of life, and your primary objective is to live. That's it. No more, no less, at the very base and root of our mind, we are driven to live. Focus on that, and love your life for what it is, and not what it isn't.
The more we get caught up on personal flaws and deficiencies, the harder it becomes to accept ourselves and accept the good things. And there are so many good things to see, feel, and experience. A good feeling is something to cherish, because it's something tangible, something warm and forceful that brews deeply within each and every one of us, some burning brighter than others.
You should not require intoxicants or pharmaceutical methods to achieve this state, but for many of us they are necessary, and in reality, I do not blame people for turning to such methods in order to feel happy and self-confident, especially since humans have been utilizing such methods for thousands of years to achieve similar results. But, as the golden rule states; always in moderation.
The more moderation we maintain with things, the more we can learn to appreciate and enjoy them, because the mind can only handle so much of one feeling or one experience before it starts to become tolerant of it, which leaves you feeling empty and wanting more.
If you start to feel this way, it's important to reach out, and grasp that something more. But do not latch onto it with all your determination, because that will only cause you to find a new distraction, a new addiction to fill the void.
You're worth more than that, and you're so much more important than the feeble opinions of others. Do not get caught up in what they say, because they will only cause you to feel doubt and self-loathing, which can cause a great deal of harm to your emotional well being.
To be your own person and have your own image is a greatly important thing in this world, and it's important that you cherish who you are, and construct a bridge of understanding between who you are now and what you once were. This will allow you to flourish as an individual and a force of creation, because as human beings we like to create, whether it be items of use, artistic works, or even life, we were designed to live and we were designed to produce.
There are so many things out there that many of us may never understand, but don't let that overwhelm you as well, don't let the unknown cause fear and debilitate your senses, because unless you're in immediate danger, whether it be physical or emotional, you should allow yourself to reside in a state of happiness and contentedness. Simply allow it to come, because you can only do what's in front of you, so if you worry about the things that you have zero control over at that very moment than you'll end up reinforcing a depressive mood. Break this mood through reading, listening, talking, or just thinking, and know that you like yourself, and you can step outside yourself and view your personal accomplishments from afar.
It's a beautiful thing when you can truly do this without interruption, because it totally carries you along on a mental exploration designed to better understand who you are as an individual, and what your individual wants are.
Once you have a clearer view of this image, and a more solid base of understanding in regards to the internal and external forces which shape yourself and everything around you, do not doubt your findings, as they may contain more truth than you give yourself credit.
By giving yourself the benefit of the doubt you're subduing any sense of failure or lack of well-being. And we all deserve to feel special and wanted in our own right, and there's nothing wrong with allowing these feelings to get stronger, because negative inhibitions only constrict us, and once you have a clearer picture of yourself in comparison to a clear picture of the things around you, then it becomes much easier to come to terms with a sense of knowledge and understanding.
Know these things, and repeat them in your mind as much as you'd like. Know yourself and then like yourself, and make that feeling so impenetrable, so obstinate, that no external view or judgment can shake or deter it. Live, love, and flourish, because you can step above anything, you can allow yourself to feel any feeling. It's all in the mind, and your mind is the key to your soul.
Our souls bind us to the very essence of our being, and allows us to revel in an endless stream of positive emotion. It can allow for the creation of a natural high, bringing us higher and higher from the darkened realms of confusion and doubt.
The less time we spend in these areas, the harder it becomes to access them, and in time, they may never hold us back from achieving and accomplishing anything we've ever desired.
Stream of Consciousness #5 (Why Reading Is Good - short and badly written)
Many people read different things for different reasons. In the faced paced world we live in, chances are that we'll spend quite a lot of time each day reading without even realizing it. It is becoming increasingly common to digest large amounts of text online, while foregoing the traditional forms of literature (i.e. books), due to convenience and time constraints.
Many of us wish we read more books or had the time to do so, but it's important to make the time to read, and doing so will help you become better at managing your time overall.
Reading from books takes on a whole knew level of understanding, because it truly allows you to feel at one with your thoughts. That's why it's important to avoid distractions and interruptions while reading, because it does not take much to break the concentration. However, given enough time and enough practice, you'll soon be able to read consistently and effectively regardless of present distractions.
There are a few techniques that make reading more enjoyable and personal, and one of the most important things to remember while reading is to not concentrate so much on what's being said, and to not try and commit everything to memory. Reading is meant to be an enjoyable experience, so if you're constantly stressing about determining what the author is trying to say, you will not enjoy the activity.
It's all about allowing yourself to become immersed in the text, to allow it to eventually flow evenly and at a decent pace. Some authors are just bad, and it's perfectly fine to be objectionable towards them, but it's important to give everything a chance. Also, try not to mentally envision each individual word, and try not to sound them out in your mind. This will be difficult to accomplish at first, and will take some practice, but these skills will ultimately allow you to assimilate text much faster by recognizing the words and piecing them together as coherent thoughts rather than words in your mind.
Don't think of reading as a chore. Too often we feel that it will take too much time out of our day, or that there is nothing interesting to read. Truth is, anything can be interesting in some way, and it's what you make of it. Personally, I believe that reading just about anything can be helpful, because it doesn't take much to stimulate your mind.
Our minds crave stimulation, and the more you give it, the more content you will feel. Reading is one of the best ways to obtain a sense of mental stimulation, and it can be done any time of the day, whenever or wherever you may be. As you begin reading, you'll be start to mentally picture other things in the back of your mind. I call this 'clutter', and it tends to occur as a way to try and distract you or throw you of course from reading at all, because as I have said before, many of us have conditioned our minds in a way that demands immediacy and convenience.
When the mind realizes that the activity it is participating in does not equate to immediate results, it will attempt to derail that activity in light of activities more related to instant gratification, and the sad thing is that this type of mentality has become so normal and so accepted that some people don't even have the patience to maintain adequate interpersonal relationships anymore. Things have taken on this need for speed and instantinaeity that it's easy to sacrifice the things that are worth waiting for or doing, like reading for example.
Reading is not something you can immediate enjoy after opening a book, and for some of us it seems like a bothersome chore, unless of course we're reading something we're interested in. But the trick is to act as an impartial observer when reading anything, and it will usually always seem curious and interested in some way.
Simply begin reading the text with no delays, and just let your thoughts guide you through the pages. It's no small wonder why some people can enjoy reading for hours on end, feeling a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment after each session, even though all they really did was read. But they did so much more. They stimulated their mind on a much higher level, and they accomplished this through persistence. This higher level may take some time to arrive at, but the journey is worth it. The ends justify the means.
Try reading one book a week. This is not a lot, and it will give you a sense of comfort knowing that you have that little goal. Read things that interest you, but expose yourself to a wide variety of literature as well. Read books about history, health, nutrition, travel, mystery, fantasy, romance, or what have you. It all makes a difference in the long run, and it will allow you to build a foundation of knowledge that exceeds any website blog or televised news report.
Random 10 page story:
Across the wet plains of Burkumarsh, quiet ponds surrounded by thick tufts of emerald long grass stuck out like an endless series of aquamarine indentations. The small pools of water reflected the diminishing sunlight like a thousand lanterns glowing brightly in the wilderness. Cottony shades of orange and yellow shone across the sky, glimmering luminously below the horizon.
Shift gazed ahead observantly, surveying the land for signs of human activity. He immediately took notice of the fact that the marshland through which he traveled was completely flooded, and traversing through it would be exceedingly difficult. He could see that a series of various footbridges and makeshift pathways had succumbed to unusually high water levels, leaving them submerged and utterly useless. Most travelers would have simply taken the night off to rest in the hope that tomorrow the marshlands would be suitable for traversing, yet Shift felt a form of unrelenting immediacy that prevented him from desiring rest. He considered the situation to be a challenge, and he liked a good challenge. Though the terrain appeared impassable there was not a time in his life where such a thing would prevent him from trying to cross it. While observing intently, he identified the numerous low-hanging trees surrounding the perimeter of the flooded area. The trees were gnarled, warped by years of exposure to rainwater, and they jutted out of the ground like twisted fangs. He considered briefly considered climbing on in an attempt to observe another more readily available path, so he approached the base of an old, soggy tree and began to heave himself up its worn grey trunk. Upon doing so he heard the feeble trunk whine and creak as the weight of his body caused it considerable distress. He kicked into the soggy wood with his study leather moccasins to create crude foothold as he slowly reached the top of the old tree. Less than several seconds later he felt the entirety of the tree begin to slide forward as the creaking intensified. The weight of his person was to great a load for the feeble oak to bear, thus it feel freely into a deep pond below, taking Shift along with it as the soggy wood creaked and broke before plunging into the water with a loud splash that drenched him completely. Shift cursed angrily and smashed his fist into the dead wood of the old tree, attempting to relieve pent up frustration. He climbed out of the murky water with bits of moss, tree bark, and random plants plastering his face and stuck to various parts of his armor and clothing. He looked back at the place where the tree once stood, which was now a rotten, sad looking stump. He ensured that his belongings were in place, and made especially sure that his longbow was not damaged. The irreplaceable weapon was his prized possession, and it received more maintenance and care than did most things in his busy life. Its ornate shaft was decorated with special Celtic engravings and feathers of rare beasts that he had encountered in highland hunting grounds and unexplored forests. When one doubted the significance of his achievement he had only to show them the small trophies attached to his glorious bow to set them straight, but that wasn’t to suggest that he was predisposed towards boastful behaviour. He was a relatively reserved and calm individual, skilled that had been highly developed from many months spent in complete solitude in order to develop his craft. Hunting had always appealed to him, and even as a small child he considered himself a hunter above all else. In some small way he even enjoyed struggling through the difficult terrain of flooded marshlands and fields filled with vicious thorn beasts, because committing so solo expeditions such as this was simply part of the trade. It was all about managing resources, living off the land, and being content with ones subconscious. He’d heard of stories where some adventurous hunters and other solo journeymen had simply lost the ability to stabilize their thoughts, resulting in complete insanity. In many instances they were never to be seen or heard of again. Shift presumed that his undoubted ability to maintain his sanity was fortified through resisting distraction by focusing on the task at hand. And the current task was to find shelter and construct a fire for warmth. His waterlogged belongings were beginning to weigh heavily on his tired frame to the point that he began to trudge sluggishly through the thick moss and underbrush that covered the ground. Each footfall into the green carpet made it seem as though he were trekking through an endless soup of murky water and dense plant life. The mushy mixture threatened to consume his every step, and the suction created caused each stride to be met with considerable resistance.
And then a voice. It was not close, but he could hear some kind of voice. It was high pitched, and seemed to be calling in his general direction. He glanced up again from the murky hell and scanned the darkening area. Water-filled potholes and fields of gnarled trees met his gaze, but still he hard the voice from an unseen location ahead. “Hello?” he called back, attempting to make contact with whatever was out there whether it be friendly or not. No response. He instinctively drew his ornate longbow and readied a razor tipped arrow while crouching low behind a dead stump. His heart flared with excitement as he mentality prepared himself for a possible confrontation, causing him to take several deep breaths in order to reconcile a feeling of calm. A bowman was to be as clear and steady in mind as in aim, he considered. Truth be known he was not an experienced bowman like his father, nor was he as brave. His training had been brief and basic, enough for him to know how to know simply survival skills and how to kill the most simple of animals. The feathers on his bow weren’t even his. He’d taken them from a friend who had much higher of a skill set than Shift, though he regretted it afterwards. All these rising feelings of self-doubt created an unstable frame of mind to the point that he couldn’t concentrate on the immediate situation. Whoever had called after him was probably approaching him now, dagger in hand; a thief simply looking for easy pray. How could he have been so stupid as to reveal his position like that? He winced in frustration, hoping desperately that his foolish call would not be answered. It was then that he realized that a steady rain had started falling several minutes prior, making it nearly impossible to overhear any signs of approaching footsteps or movement, making him feel even more stupid.
“Why on earth are you out here in these disastrous conditions?” came a small voice. Alarmed, Shift turned around so quickly that he lost his footing in the thick muck and fell straight on his ass with a loud splash, losing all sense of direction and dropping his bow in the process. “I’m sorry,” it said, “I didn’t mean to surprise you like that. It’s rare that I meet people. Very rare.” Shift propped himself up with his drenched arms and stared at the small being with apprehension. He was a small, gnome-like individual with glowing blue goggles and a very peculiar hair style.
“Who are you?” Shift asked with a wheeze. The fall had temporarily knocked his wind out and he struggled to get the words out. He still felt somewhat worried, but if the thing had wanted to kill him it would have done so already, so he felt somewhat relieved for the time being.
“Name’s Addle, I’m from around here,” he explained quickly. “And who might you be? Hope you’re not here for the blunderbuss sale. It’s gone. Packed up. Had a good run but the weather killed business. You know how it is. I got some special models left though, just a few ones with special features, you know, silencers and whatnot. Bows are obsolete.”
“Oh…” Shift responded vaguely, not sure what to make of the little guy. “Well, uh, isn’t that good. I better be going. I’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”
“You can’t just venture out in these conditions. Have you no sense? You’re lucky I found you at all. I was heading back to my camp some loud noises. Figured it was a stranded animal or something.” Addle laughed.
“Oh you have a camp?” Shift asked curiously.
“Yes. It’s near here too. I have no idea why you were walking around in this mush but there’s a well-built pathway above water just a few minutes away.” Addle explained. The pair walked on through the damp marshland for several more minutes before arriving at a solid looking pathway, which was bordered by heavy stones on either side to prevent the water from flooding it. Once on the path they headed southward through a stream of steadily intensifying rain. The winds picked up as well, leaving Shift shivering as the cold wind cut through his damp clothing. Addle explained to him that he was a traveling salesman, and this was his last day in the marshland. He was heading further southward in the coming days to a place called the Zoglands, a place that Shift had never heard of. Addle described it as being a coastal area filled with sprawling marshes and rolling plains of yellow grass and exotic wildlife, similar to the marshlands they were in at present.
“Sounds adventurous,” Shift said, “but how do I know that you’re not going to steal my things? Sorry if you take offense to that but I’ve been told not to trust Gnomes.” Addle paused mid-stride as a concerned and slightly condescending look spread across his wide face. “Listen here… I’m no thief alright? I don’t care what others say about my people, all I care about is who I am. And I do not steal. That is just something I have always avoided my whole life so relax,” said the Gnome. His words came out in a rapid stammer that made it difficult for Shift to comprehend, though eventually he grew accustomed to the enthusiastic speech. They continued on wordlessly for indeterminate amounts of times as they strolled on along the neat dirt path. The sturdy roadway looked as though it was of recent construction, judging by how it showed relatively minor signs of use. Shift still held on to his ingrained presumption that Gnomes were predisposed toward thievery, but he began to trust this one at least somewhat. While lost in thought they were confronted with something that hadn’t occurred to either of them until now; something was following them. It wasn’t easy to tell at first but the sound of breaking branches behind them signaled the fact that there was somebody or something that was perhaps spying on them for some reason. Addle didn’t pick up on this immediately but Shift was able to tell due to the fact that his ear was specially trained for detecting even the most minute sounds of movement. He could tell when something was near, regardless of who or what it was. Without speaking, he motioned to Addle with a firm fist in the air, indicating that they should pause. Shift looked behind them as Addle stood there motionless, and then they both could hear it. The developing mists surrounding them provided little visibility to the surrounding area, yet there was no mistake that some large, dark form was approaching slowly. “What is that thing?” Addle whispered softly.
“No clue,” responded Shift, “but lets hope it’s friendly.” Feelings of anxiety and fear rose up in both of them, and it wasn’t long before they were seeking shelter behind a nearby tree stump. The thing was still too far away for the pair to accurately discern what it was in fact, but they could feel the earth rumble as it lumbered forward. It was obviously of an immense mass and towering form, yet it didn’t appear to have detected the presence of Shift or Addle yet.
“What should we do?!” Stammered Addle. Shift made a sharp shushing sound with his index finger to his lips and stared angrily at the small Gnome, not wanting to give away their position. Then the bulky form emerged from the shrouded mists, its stocky and gnarled body came into full view. Thick blotches of green moss and brown decay were intertwined between its massive, tree-like limbs. It had a small head with miniscule silver eyes that seemed to scan the surrounding area with curious apprehension. Each footfall it made shook the ground with a resounding thud as it moved ponderously along. Neither of the two had seen one of these creatures before, and it was fair to assume that it wasn’t friendly in the least, judging by the display of humanoid heads that were impaled on sharp branches across the things back. Upon noticing this barbaric display the pair nearly bolted immediately, though Shift fought to restrain them to their position for fear of being hunted down in the waterlogged marshes. A creature like that would have had no problem chasing them down across the soggy, mud filled marshes so it was safer to remain silent and motionless. Abruptly, the massive being halted less than several feet away from them, lifting its ominous head in a motion that made it seem as though it was sniffing for something. At that point sharp pangs of fear struck both travelers, but still they remained in place. Shift could feel his arms twitching uncontrollably as he held his body as close as possible to the stump, remaining hopeful that the thing would simply loose interest and continue on its way. It looked as though it was beginning to leave, when all of a sudden a strange hissing sound could be heard. This sound was followed by a blast, and Addle was never seen again.
Some would claim that the universe is a very big place, stretching across an infinite amount of unexplored space, continuously expanding at an ever decelerating pace until one day, one random point in time, the expansion ceases, resulting in what is referred to
as the "Big Crunch" (with is a diametrically opposed event when compared to the Big
Bang, which is a theory that some astrologists and arm-chair scientists use to describe the
creation of our completely unexplored and not understood universe). Some think that a divine entity referred to as 'God' was responsible for the creation of our extraordinary existence, and there's nothing wrong with that, because for all we, as human beings, know and understand, it is very possible that some outside presence, some omnipotent and/or supreme being and/or manifestation of life, somehow created everything around us. Whether or not such a being exists, and if such a being was consciously aware of its creation may never be known, but that is the essence of what it is to be human; to never fully know. It is impossible for us to fully know or understand anything at all, and it's quite possible that we simply exist as heavily mutated forms of energy that somehow assembled together in the form of living cells to evolve over thousands, if not millions, of years, to eventually develop into the wonderful beings we are today.
We seem to believe that we are alive, and that we live on a planet called Earth, and are surrounded by some unexplainable vast area of space known as the Universe. This planet has been around for a few billion years, and our sun essentially 'powers' it. Without the sun there would be no life at all, and it's important to receive enough sunlight in order to obtain sufficient amounts of Vitamin D, which is absorbed through the skin. However, exposure to excess amounts of ultraviolet sunlight can have detrimental effects, such as skin cancer or irritating rashes. It is important to keep in mind that those with lighter skin pigmentation are more proficient at absorbing sunlight, as evolution in their colder environments, which were basked in much less sunlight when compared to a place like Africa, for example, made it so the body slowly lessened its melanin production, which is a key chemical used in the coloration of skin, eye, and hair. Additional melanin production was necessary for those residing in much more sun-heavy environments, as a higher degree of ultraviolet resistance coincides with darker, more melanin heavy skin.
Anyway, the universe is also a very strange place. In any direction and at any given time you've got all forms of bizarre galactic activity simultaneously occurring in obscure locations which may never be discovered. We as human being can only hope to observe such activities, study them, and extrapolate whatever information is possible given our limited understanding of such events. We have high powered telescopic devices, exceedingly complex computational machines, and an infinite amount of knowledge pertaining to areas of study we refer to as 'science'. Throughout history, people have pitted their minds against the forces which surround us, metaphorically attacked the meaning of what things are made of and why we are here. They have delved into incredibly deep and complex areas of abstract thought, running on the very fringes of human understanding in an attempt to formulate an appropriate hypothesis to describe or help ascertain their predictions, findings, and speculations. They have tinkered, tested, contemplated, wrote about, debated, mixed, mashed, and loved their pursuits, and it is impossible to deny that they contributed many great things to our present society.
But what is society? What are people? What is the brain? Well, these are all very complex questions requiring complex definitions which may or may not require many layers of elucidation to fully describe, but the main matter of import is that such questions exist, and that we as human beings exist in a seemingly timeless space, being gravitationally attracted to a sphere composed of certain life-sustaining elements, which simultaneously orbits a much more massive sphere located in the center of our so-called 'solar-system', which in turn exists on the outskirts of some arm of a so-called 'spiral-galaxy' which we have so appropriate labeled the 'milky-way'. Chances are, this spiral galaxy also orbits some other much more massive galactic entity, which perhaps orbits something else much more massive, etc. It is possible that this cycle extends into infinity, and in actual fact, our universe is simply a relatively insignificant realm of existence which orbits some external, much more massive thing. It is really quite impossible to say!
Some have speculated on the theory of multiple universes, multiple dimensions, and multiple realms of matter and/or anti-matter, which could perhaps be associated with black-hole formations, and being black holes, from which not even light can escape, it is possible to remain obstinate in the belief that such entities are miniature universes themselves. This may seem difficult to grasp, but if you consider the fact that most black holes derive from collapsed starts or other celestial bodies of impossible density, you could speculate that if such places were black holes exist are so incredibly massive, and therefore gravitationally powerful enough to attract and 'absorb' rays of light, the fastest thing in the universe, then perhaps it's not unlikely that such entities contain entire universes of their own. Perhaps our own universe is contained within some super-massive 'black hole' which exists in some other 'universe', and so on and so forth.
When you consider the appearance of human beings, and what they really are, it is virtually impossible to consider us products of the universe, because we cannot, and probably will not, fully understand the universe, so if we can't even understand the indescribably complex and unknowable space surrounding us and our planet of residence, then perhaps we've no hope of truly knowing ourselves. Perhaps we're all simply composed of celestial star material originating from countless billions of particles which have existed for eternity insomuch as we're acquainted with the term, as it is quite possible that reality is but a transient thing, ever shifting and oscillating obscurely in a timeless space, where particles of matter which can be telescopically examined down to their fundamental building blocks, are considered to be 'life'. Well, to such observers or particle composition, I ask, what isn't life? Is something life simply because it contains miscellaneous 'cells' which move and interact at minuscule levels to form exceedingly complex 'living' animals, plants, microorganisms, and other various things? It's all bullshit, because at the very basis of understanding, no human being knows or fully understands life or why it exists, so it is impossible to claim whether or not life exists and where it originated from, so instead we should focus on the universe and why it exists, and we should examine the other various entities present in this surrounding celestial environment which is so impossibly complex and diverse in terms of present forms of matter subsequently comprised of smaller pieces of matter, which are examinable down to endless levels of magnification, all designed to cooperate and exist in some predetermined state.
Quarks are interesting things, and they are postulated to be the building blocks of atoms, which are reputed to be the building blocks of molecules, which are the building blocks of elements depending on their level of valence electrons and relative molecular mass (measured in moles), which later form cells, which form tissues (such as in a body of human origin), which subsequently develop into something like an organ, and it's all held together in some web work of electromagnetic bonds, swirling around in some chemical soup of understanding.
At the very basis of such things, it is impossible to keep zooming in and finding more and more different building blocks, because our present technology only allows for so much magnification, and who really knows if it ever ends? Does anything ever end? Does a human 'life' simply extinguish, dissipate, or otherwise 'die' when a human body ceases from operation? Does a certain 'spirit' or 'consciousness' vacate the lifeless body, perhaps to visit some ethereal realm referred to as 'heaven' or the 'after world?' Does it just rise up into the sky on some unknown journey of eternal happiness and joy, completely as its own uncontrollable entity?
Is the incarnation of a human afterlife composed of matter? And what is that matter composed of? We live in a material world, in a material solar system, and material universe, so it's only logical to suggest that a so-called 'after-life' must contain some element of matter if it is to exist, but then I wonder...
Our thoughts... what are they? Surely an image in your mind cannot be matter, surely a conceptualization of the imagination cannot be attributed to some base elements or base understanding, some base building blocks or base knowledge derived from some ancient mind responsible for devising some incredibly complex or infinitely simple theory which describes or possibly attempts to explain how something as abstract as a 'thought' can even form in a timeless space, an infinite space, a space much more vast and all-encompassing when compared to something even as vast as the universe; the human mind.
Well, the human mind, or brain, cerebral cortex, cerebellum, gray matter, what have you, is a fairly miraculous thing. It's like some limitless realm of existence which every human being can explore and create in his or her own way, and they can do anything in there. They can think of anything, be anything, see anything, do anything. Dreams are what happens when the human mind enters a state of subconscious interaction, usually but not exclusively accessible during sleep. Lucid dreams are when one realizes that they're dreaming, which in some way imbues them with the ability to manipulate their dream to the point that they can truly do and feel any way they want, and they're capable of exploring any vista of understanding in this state, any plane of existence, any image or sensation.
These types of dreams are rare, but it is important for you to distinguish between what's a dream and what's reality, because it is not impossible to not be able to differentiate between the two, especially when images of exceptional visual clarity associated with intensely vivid emotions and/or experiences emerge at such times, though it may be quite possible to examine this realm of subconscious though, which is responsible for producing dreams, when you're not even dreaming at all.
It's called just thinking for a long time, and really getting to the root of your thoughts. Writing about them, exploring the very fringes of your innermost desires and experiences in this life, attempting to reconcile some base of understanding for yourself and others around you, attempting to develop some form of mental encapsulation which affects every fiber of your being, every tissue and every cell, smoldering with conscious awareness in some swirling, unfathomably abstract array of interconnectivity and sensation, feeling, life. Your heart is beating, your mind is operating like an engine or central processing unit, continually feeding every inch, every fiber of your being with predetermined instructions responsible for maintaining order within each individual human body. This is accomplished through electro-chemical transmission occurring along the synaptic pathways in the cerebral cortex and other various areas of the mind, all interacting in some orchestrated harmony of miraculous interactivity.
The frontal lobe is what's responsible for producing dopamine, which makes human beings feel 'happy' inside. It makes them feel warm in the pit of their stomachs, right near the heart, right in between the bottom of the ribcage, and it can easily be described as an impossibly bright glowing light, an intense muscular contraction which is continuously being stimulated by fresh blood flow, because the frontal lobe has deemed it necessary that this area be triggered in order for the host body to feel something strong, something that makes them want to life and spread life, something that permeates every realm of their being, extending to their limbs and to their fingertips, and subsequently to the brain itself, which is instructed to produce more dopamine so long as the stimulus responsible for producing it in the first place remains present. The frontal lobe can even be accessed and stimulated long after a pleasure-causing stimulus has been removed, and this event could be described as a residual effect of the initial excitement. This is because the human body longs for this feeling, and the impressions of stimuli which are responsible for producing it are stored in memory for later retrieval, as are many other emotions and experiences.
Such experiences and emotions which are associated to certain memories can also be harmful to the body, as they can activate certain areas of the mind related to fear, anxiety, stress, sadness, depression, greed, hatred, suffering, etc., and sometimes people continuously dwell on such experiences, because they are a necessary aspect of our humanity, and without them we'd be simple, pleasure seeking animals with no desire to explore, produce, or improve their surroundings via invention, creativity, or otherwise. However, it's certainly far more beneficial for the mind to inhabit the realm of happy thought (frontal lobe) more often than the other areas, as it will produce a much more pleasurable feeling in general. And every human being responds well to pleasurable feelings, because they are related to concepts such as love, friendship, intimacy, happiness, excitement, etc.
But, like anything, it's important not to overstimulate the mind with such pleasurable sensations, as after awhile the brain may become tolerant or even resistant to them, causing them to have less and less effect with each subsequent exposure to stimuli which produce such feelings.
As they say, everything in moderation, because too much of anything is a bad thing, and I'm sure any reasonably intelligent human being can attest to that piece of advice. Even turkey, when consumed in excess amounts, can have negative effects! Gobble gobble!
Stream of Consciousness #2 (Thoughts On Parenting and Health)
People are interesting creatures. They inherit genetic material from two parents, and during the process of pregnancy, a miraculous event takes place. I can't ever experience or fully comprehend such an event given the limitations of my gender, but I'm certain of the fact that it is quite a unique experience. It bothers me to know that there's a growing number of women in this world who'd prefer to abstain from childbearing altogether, but I suppose everyone has their reasons, and I'm sure there's just as many guys out there who do not want to be fathers. But then I wonder, at an instinctual level, aren't we biologically programed to want to reproduce?
Is it not hardwired into our DNA that we must create more life, continue the species, and direct all that pent-up, natural desire to love and nurture towards subsequent offspring? Where does it all go when we don't have kids? What happens to our conscious and subconscious minds, and are they negatively affected by such actions? If it is our primary drive to produce life, are we in some way harming our own by preventing that process? These are all very philosophical questions of a rhetorical nature, but they do tend to spark some thoughts on the subject.
Basically, many people aren't able to produce children for many reasons. Either they do not have a partner of the opposite sex, they are sterile or impotent, do not have enough money to do so, would simply prefer not to for various reasons, including the ability to focus on career-related pursuits, they do not have the time to raise children, a couple wants and is ready to have children but are experiencing difficulty when it comes to producing them, or they just do not feel that their current surrounding environment is appropriate for child-rearing.
There are obviously many other reasons, and there are all sorts of different factors associated with the production of children, but it really boggles the mind to consider how our current society views parenting and child-bearing in general.
I've noticed an increasingly disturbing trend which seems to have become ever popular since the growth in popularity of birth control and contraceptive devices, and it relates to how some women perceive the role of being a Mother, and how some men perceive the role of being a Father. These roles are biologically the most significant aspects of our existence, yet they seem to take little precedence in our daily lives.
On many occasions I have observed women who believe that being a mother isn't 'cool' in anyway, and that they'd rather forgo child-bearing for various reasons (many of which are mentioned above). Well, I'm not a woman, and I can't know what it's like to take on the role of mother, but why has it all of a sudden become uncool? Why decide that you don't want kids at all, especially if you're an intelligent, beautiful, and naturally intuitive, creative, understanding person? Aren't these all positive traits that would greatly benefit society?
Well, on behalf of the women who feel this way, I can partially understand their reason considering the state of our world today. Whether we care to admit it or not, we live in a society rife with corruption, depression, addiction, rampant materialism, irreversible environmental contamination, and many, many psychologically unfit individuals who enjoy nothing more than bring pain and misfortune to others simply to compensate for their own lack of morals and intelligence.
Who'd want to bring kids into such a fucked up environment? Chances are, in some cases your child might have a better chance dropping out of school and becoming a stripper and/or street thug / drug user than pursing higher education and wanting to make a difference in a world so overflowing with degradation.
However, with all this mess surrounding us, with all this confusion and uncertainty permeating our conscious and subconscious minds at any given moment, it is so fundamentally important to be true to yourself, to love yourself, to explore your own imagination, your own thoughts, to let your body naturally tell you the right course of action, the right things to eat, the right actions to take - listen to your body, it's an amazing organism, and it's capable of instructing you on how to be truly satisfied with your life so you can be the person who you want to be.
It's far too easy to get trapped in our own minds, get stuck up in individual trains of though and forget that it's much more relieving and enjoyable to examine things from afar, to step out of that mental rut and stop examining every little situation in such minute detail that it causes you fear and anxiety. These are the two most prevalent conditions in North America, but it doesn't need to be that way. We don't need to constantly worry about how others view us, and we don't need to live in fear of being judged or being put on display in some way, because chances are, others feel the exact same way as you, and the only way to overcome these confusing feelings of self-doubt is to open your mind.
Expose yourself to good literature, write about your life, write about random experiences, just whatever comes to mind, word after word without proper punctuation or spelling - it will all come with enough practice and enough thought.
You need to reach the very root, the very forefront of your imagination, the essence of your mind's eye, and everything can and will be revealed. It's like you're sailing through some smooth, unexplainable mental vista that transports your consciousness across an endless journey of calm, peaceful detachment, a natural escape, a freeing experience which leaves you with centralized feeling of satisfaction and contentedness.
The mind is a very complex thing, and I believe that many of our problems originate in the mind. However, all of the solutions to those problems also exist in the mind, and it's up to the individual if they want to try and confront and overcome them or not.
It takes a lot less effort to ignore them and allow them to manifest in various ways, because it's so much easier to go with the flow of things, to allow the addictions, the distractions, the obsession with self-image and the constant self-doubt to take over - but it does not, and it should not have to. You should be happy regardless of these things, and you should reach for this happyness, grasp on to it and live in it, caress it and ignore the fear, Fear us what debilitates us in the most horrendous way. It binds us to the very things we've been taught to avoid, and it drives us into very dark places when we least expect it.
It's important to remember that you cannot change or improve anything at once when it comes to the mind. Everything is a gradual process, and although our society demands everything instantly and we're all guilty of impatience, it is not impossible to teach your mind the value of taking things slowly, and enjoying the process along the way.
Start with the simple things, the small things, and allow the progression to occur in its own way, because it will happen, and you do not need to worry. Worrying only creates doubt, and that in turn causes sadness and distress, but there's no reason that we can't stop and think for a moment, and examine what it is that really makes us worry, or why we feel sad in any way.
You cannot ignore these feelings, and you cannot pretend to hide them, because when you do that, they only get driven into your subconscious, where they can potentially do more damage, but regardless of this, everyone is capable of freeing their minds, of allowing their thoughts to drift listlessly like a rolling white cloud on a beautiful blue day, overlooking a windswept sea at the break of dawn.
One of the most important aspects to maintaining this tract of positive thinking is allowing yourself to sleep and wake up at appropriate times. This may seem obvious, but it helps more than you can imagine. A good night of rest can really help your mind recharge, which in turn allows your body to function normally and healthily the following day. Sleep is a wonderful thing, but it can also be addictive so don't overdo it :)
Remember to wake up early so you can feel productive during the day, because by waking up late it's much easier to feel lethargic and useless.
Well, the next thing I was going to talk about was diet, because that's a huge thing. The food you put into your body has such a big impact on your you feel and how you mood flows during the day, so just remember to avoid sugary shit and eat greens, nuts, fruits, and vegetables, and you will feel it in your gut when you eat something healthy and good. That's your body basically saying thank you for giving it items of high nutritional value!
Also, I've been told that the biggest problem with the North American diet right now is Vitamin D deficiency, so it's important to take a supplement of Vitamin D, and it doesn't hurt to take Cod Liver Oil as well, as this well prevent sickness and generally boost your mood.
Stream of Consciousness #3 (Technology)
Technology is everywhere. It will always be heavily active in our lives whether we realize it or not, because that is how our society has been allowed to develop, and it's only natural for us to learn to embrace such advancements. I once worked in a technology store and I sold people computers, printers, and other miscellaneous articles of technological importance. It was quite a unique experience, because it granted me deeper insight on how the growing trend of microelectronics and other various items of import have helped shape peoples personalities, values, and even appearance.
I remember quite vividly the time when this particular individual approached me whilst I was tending the desktop computer section of our store (Staples Business Depot). He seemed quite impatient about something or other, as though some unobtainable goal was set on the very fringe of his mind, constantly evading his desperate grasp. He did inform me that he required an exceptionally powerful personal computer in order to improve his online gaming experience. I then directed him towards one of our most expensive models of Hewlett Packard computer, and after my brief description of hard drive space, central processing unit clock speed (along with front side bus speed), random access memory potential, optical drive capabilities, video and graphics processing unit strength, and warranty value, he seemed quite convinced.
I then asked, 'what form of gaming are you participating in which requires such a powerful computer?' (though I did not abide by this particular use of diction). Whereupon he did mention that he was an online poker player. Online poker? Well, I hadn't played much myself, but I was under the impression that it didn't require a very strong computer, and that it was mostly.... stored online.
Well fuck, this guy was greasy as sin, and his ragged hair bespoke of many a fortnight spent basking under sickly computer monitor light, whilst his his remained firmly planted in his worn out computer chair. He didn't even seem capable of forming a coherent sentence, and I predicted that he'd probably swindled whatever money he'd received from online endeavors. It didn't matter to me though, it didn't matter to anyone, because the internet was like some gargantuan river speeding down a coastline of industrial waste at speeds unchecked, careening through unseen lands and across oceans of black, extending to ever corner of human consciousness, driving up the senses in some bizarre, instinctual bliss evoked through continual exposure to this disembodying experience where cybernetic interactions react with the cerebral cortex with a myriad different electromagnetic signals interfering with an incalculable sum of various neurological chemicals, constantly swirling and swaying amid a primordial soup of evolutionary perfectionism.
And in that point of time, when the globe rotated on its axis so casually as I expected it would, as it had never ceased in this behavior, and it was because of this that I remained firmly planted on the ground at this moment, due to the more recently discovered forces of gravity, courtesy of Sir Isaac Newton, who is reputed to have pursued such a mode of understanding after being assailed with a small fruit which presumably landed upon his skull under some tree in some distant land when things were far different, and people treated each other in a vastly different way, and the landscape itself would virtually be unrecognizable when compared to our current industrialized environment - I wondered further still, why does this man require an expensive, 7.1 surround sound speaker system for his computational device, and in what relation would such an apparatus have with online poker success?
It occurred to me then that perhaps he did not require the speakers for anything more than quality, digital music production, which can occur in a personal computer after the song file, which is magnetically stored on the hard disk drive; a continuously spinning device which is responsible for storing permanent memory for later retrieval via a data extracting arm piece which directly interfaces with the central processing unit through Firewire or Integrated Device Electronics cables (IDE). Should such a command be given, which in most computers is quite possible by interfacing with an operating system with a human interface device, such as a mouse or keyboard, then this song file, presumably encoded into an MP3 format, will travel along the wires connecting the disk drive to the CPU in the form of electromagnetic signals that can, at the base level of computing, be represented by binary (1's and 0's), and then it goes to the sound card thingy and to the speaker thingys from there were it pumps out as sound waves, which are created through the propagation of motion and reverberation of, in this particular case, air molecules.
It's all very interesting stuff, and even though that store is still in operation to this very day, with the same individuals manning the forward cash registers and conversing about the same topics of interest, examining the same routines on a day to day bases liked preprogrammed ants participating in the never ending construction of an impossibly intricate sand hill; I work there no longer. And part of me then wonders, what happened to the man with the online poker addiction? Was he even addicted to it at all? Was my mind simply lodged in such an obscure plane of thinking that nothing even made sense during this social interaction, which could more accurately be described as a business transaction considering that the man soon purchased the expensive electronics, including the extended warranty attachment which benefited myself in some way? Perhaps, but perhaps we'll never know, because it's impossible to know, and currently, it's impossible to traverse the infinitely vast bounds of the universe as we know it, despite our amazing technological advancements.
We're still trapped on this goddamn sphere of blue and green, and ever increasingly, gray. The concrete jungles in all their sprawling splendor are undoubtedly beginning to wrap their environmentally unsound tendrils around the most natural of landscapes, threatening to devour the very essence of humanity by consuming the green life which surrounds us, making us more and more inhuman with every passing day, though it is as if some individuals are hoping for this to come sooner than later. They do not perceive themselves as human beings with lived and histories and genetic and racial attributes which according to nature, can not be ignored. When ignored, the person simply does not live the life they can ever truly be content with, though in our current society where time constraints, deadlines, and other miscellaneous bounds which prevent us from delving deeper into our own minds for the purpose of better understanding ourselves and the world around us, it is quite difficult to be fully content with anything, and it should not be expected, perfection should never be expected, but that does not mean it should not be pursued.
Stream of Consciousness #4 (Genetic Memory)
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Thoughts. Memories. Various images that seem to control themselves effortlessly and at any given moment, stored deeply beneath the realm of the subconscious, which can usually be accessed during dream-like states, provided that the body is functioning within normal parameters.
What does all this mean? Well, there's been a concept floating around, and it was theorized by experimental psychologist Carl Jung. It's called 'genetic memory', and it states that within each individual cell there exists certain instructions which have been passed down through millions of years of evolution. These instructions exist as a way to promote survival and reinforce certain instincts which are appropriate to the species surrounding environment.
This most interesting thing about this idea is that it extends to brain cells, which includes memory and experience. The fact that some people have reputedly been able to speak different languages or recall distant visions from the past while under hypnosis or any other consciousness altering state of mind shows that within all of us there exists certain genetic links to our past ancestors.
As genetic material is passed on from one generation to the next in a never-ending chain of survival and breeding, it's likely that this genetic information is allowing us to become much more intelligent with each passing year, each passing century, as our bodies and our minds adapt continuously to the surrounding environment.
This means that as you grow older, all the things you think about and do will be stored into various cells, the most obvious of which are located in the brain, and being a living organism, it will perceive this information as being conducive to its survival, with the purpose of passing on such traits to the following generation of offspring.
This allows me to believe that there is hope for humanity. Although things are so exceedingly materialistic and overblown with glamour and image, I don't think this will last forever. I would like nothing more than to believe that somewhere down the road there will be another 'enlightenment' or 'renaissance' in which human beings begin to detach from their rabid pursuit of wealth and beauty for the sake of vanity, and begin to deeply contemplate the forces around them, begin to really consider why things are the way they are in an attempt to further understand their world and themselves.
It is naive for me to think that this will occur soon, seeing as how things are the way they are, but there is nothing wrong with that. Humanity in general is in a transitory state, as we've leapt and bound over so many complex hurdles in the last 100, if not 50 years. If you consider that humans have only been around, at least as far as human history dictates, for 5000 years, our current information age is but a drop in the proverbial hat of human existence. We've developed such exceedingly complex devices designed to examine a myriad different sources of information that I do not believe our minds are fully capable of comprehending the significance of this shift as of yet.
But, that is the beauty of evolution, and I believe this ties in strongly with the concept of genetic memory. As things get faster and faster, and human beings absorb more and more information, becoming increasingly literate, articulate, contemplative and introspective as we retreat into our own realms of understanding and knowledge, the world will slowly evolve into a place which values knowledge over wealth.
In my belief, such a world would be utopian. Think of how your life would be like if you never had to worry about money? What if you never had to visit a bank, write a check, deal with a credit card company, pay a bill, swipe a card, live with debt, mortgage, hidden costs, or anything... a world where your primary asset was your mind, where you were encouraged to sift through it as deeply as possible, probing the very root of your conscious and subconscious realm of thought.
I think this is secretly what we all want, because as it is right now, we're all bound by the green devil that is a dollar bill, and it looms above us like a blood sucking bat with terrifying wings, ready to strike and drive us into sporadic bouts of despair, greed, and conflict.
It is the number one source of conflict in this word, and the number one cause of divorce and breakups in relationships. That fact alone speaks volume about the subject. The fact that something as trivial as money has taken precedence over the natural human instinct to be with a mate, to feel love and give love in return, abhors me. It means that it is always lurking at the backs of our minds, constantly threatening to harm our confidence, self-esteem, and ability to enjoy life.
There are many in this world who do not have this issue, as they have managed to acquire significant amounts of material wealth, or they are stable enough to not have to worry about it. There is nothing wrong with this, as in our society it is only natural to desire wealth in excess amounts, but this may lead to the development of a mentality which seeks to demonstrate their wealth, and subsequently power, over others.
This is an interesting topic, because rarely do we consider the fact that there are those who gain a certain measure of satisfaction from exhibiting their personal wealth, and it makes them feel somewhat entitles to certain benefits that the rest of us aren't likely to receive. We've been indoctrinated through mass media and celebrity worship that being rich and famous leads to a fantasy life style, at least compared to those who lack such status.
Of course, we're all cognizant enough to realize that even the richest person might not be happy or content with anything, and that the poorest person might be the happiest in the world. But based off logic, it's more often than not that the opposite is true. The simple fact is; those with wealth are usually destined to have access to more opportunities, experiences, and items of material significance than those without. This is a simple fact, and it does not imply that wealth is a bad thing, because the truth is, we all desire it. We desire it so much, that we're willing to forego childbearing, limit our intellectual engagement, limit our social contact, physically harm ourselves, and possibly harm others in order to attain it.
Such instances of greed, theft, deceit, jealousy, hatred, depression, anxiety, etc., are very commonly associated with money, because as it has been said, it is the 'root of all evil.'
Well, if that is true, than wouldn't it also be true that valuing human experiences such as spreading true emotion and engaging intellectual pursuits in order to reinforce mental traits related to genetic memory so that future generations may get smarter and smarter, and less influenced by empty, materialistic pursuits, is the root of all 'good'?
I parenthesize the terms good and evil because they cannot be truly defined in a way that applies to every individual situation and every individual person. But in a nutshell, I would simply state that good and evil are polar opposites, and you can't have one without the other. There must be a balance, because as I mentioned in a previous stream of consciousness, too much of anything is not good, and it's important to take everything in moderation.
An appropriate counterbalance of good and evil may sound difficult to understand, but if you consider that within our minds exists the capacity to exact either force, then you can understand that in order to fully experience our realm of understanding as it exists within our minds, there must be no stone unturned, no door left closed. You must open yourself to every thought, every experience, as long as it doesn't harm you or dislodge your sense of being.
It is important to listen to your body, listen to your mind, and follow the instructions as an outside observer. Only then can truthfulness come, and it is impossible to expect everything to come immediate, as nothing is without a certain degree of patience, even in light of our present emphasis on immediacy and convenience.
In referring to genetic memory, it is quite possible that your values, morals, image, and beliefs will continue on in your children, their children, and so on, so you must understand that you are responsible for everything you do, and you can't expect to help anyone else unless you help yourself first. This does not in any way imply that you should make any immediate changes or deny the things that bring you happiness and joy, but it might be necessary to simply reevaluate them, perhaps manage your time differently, and even set your sights on the future ahead.
I don't like goal setting because some of us are destined to devise a system of goals which ensures failure, or they fail to abide by their goals in the first place, but since we are only human, this is only natural. Instead, just think about the person you want to be, think about the feelings you want to feel, and allow that image to flourish in your mind, allow it to bind to your innermost thoughts and permeate your imagination.
Constantly repeat this image in your mind throughout the day until it is so rooted in your subconscious that even thinking about it causes you happiness. Just believing that you could one day be that person, whether it's possible or true or not, gives us a feeling of hope, and it helps us develop into much more genuine people, much more sensitive and intuitive people; the type of people we really are.
Spend hours, perhaps entire evenings, just exploring your mind. You'd be amazed at what you can find there, and do not let the conflicts and problems bar you from delving deeper and deeper. Nobody is perfect and everyone has problems, so don't let them affect you in a wholly negative way, observe them instead, step outside of them, detach yourself from their grasp and simply examine how they may have affected your life for better or for worse.
Examine the world around you, the events taking place, the people involved with such events and what their actions were. Consider what they may have been thinking and how they may have interpreted the entire course of events, and allow yourself to overcome the entire situation. Allow yourself to step above it, step away from it, and put it into an easily digestible context.
It will seem like small images being pushed back into a place where they cannot harm you, and they will not harm you, because they are just memories, just actions and experiences linked to external forces, including outside events and the actions and thoughts of other people. I believe we waste entirely too much time on discussing what other people think and why they do things, instead of focusing on what we think and why we do things.
But again, this is only a natural, instinctual thing, and you cannot expect to modify this process immediately. And you shouldn't have to, because it's not necessary to push your mind into any area that makes you feel uncomfortable or uncertain in any way.
In the thousands of years before us, and the untold millions ahead, think to yourself, why am I here? This is a big question, but do not let it overwhelm you. The simply answer is that you are a product of life, and your primary objective is to live. That's it. No more, no less, at the very base and root of our mind, we are driven to live. Focus on that, and love your life for what it is, and not what it isn't.
The more we get caught up on personal flaws and deficiencies, the harder it becomes to accept ourselves and accept the good things. And there are so many good things to see, feel, and experience. A good feeling is something to cherish, because it's something tangible, something warm and forceful that brews deeply within each and every one of us, some burning brighter than others.
You should not require intoxicants or pharmaceutical methods to achieve this state, but for many of us they are necessary, and in reality, I do not blame people for turning to such methods in order to feel happy and self-confident, especially since humans have been utilizing such methods for thousands of years to achieve similar results. But, as the golden rule states; always in moderation.
The more moderation we maintain with things, the more we can learn to appreciate and enjoy them, because the mind can only handle so much of one feeling or one experience before it starts to become tolerant of it, which leaves you feeling empty and wanting more.
If you start to feel this way, it's important to reach out, and grasp that something more. But do not latch onto it with all your determination, because that will only cause you to find a new distraction, a new addiction to fill the void.
You're worth more than that, and you're so much more important than the feeble opinions of others. Do not get caught up in what they say, because they will only cause you to feel doubt and self-loathing, which can cause a great deal of harm to your emotional well being.
To be your own person and have your own image is a greatly important thing in this world, and it's important that you cherish who you are, and construct a bridge of understanding between who you are now and what you once were. This will allow you to flourish as an individual and a force of creation, because as human beings we like to create, whether it be items of use, artistic works, or even life, we were designed to live and we were designed to produce.
There are so many things out there that many of us may never understand, but don't let that overwhelm you as well, don't let the unknown cause fear and debilitate your senses, because unless you're in immediate danger, whether it be physical or emotional, you should allow yourself to reside in a state of happiness and contentedness. Simply allow it to come, because you can only do what's in front of you, so if you worry about the things that you have zero control over at that very moment than you'll end up reinforcing a depressive mood. Break this mood through reading, listening, talking, or just thinking, and know that you like yourself, and you can step outside yourself and view your personal accomplishments from afar.
It's a beautiful thing when you can truly do this without interruption, because it totally carries you along on a mental exploration designed to better understand who you are as an individual, and what your individual wants are.
Once you have a clearer view of this image, and a more solid base of understanding in regards to the internal and external forces which shape yourself and everything around you, do not doubt your findings, as they may contain more truth than you give yourself credit.
By giving yourself the benefit of the doubt you're subduing any sense of failure or lack of well-being. And we all deserve to feel special and wanted in our own right, and there's nothing wrong with allowing these feelings to get stronger, because negative inhibitions only constrict us, and once you have a clearer picture of yourself in comparison to a clear picture of the things around you, then it becomes much easier to come to terms with a sense of knowledge and understanding.
Know these things, and repeat them in your mind as much as you'd like. Know yourself and then like yourself, and make that feeling so impenetrable, so obstinate, that no external view or judgment can shake or deter it. Live, love, and flourish, because you can step above anything, you can allow yourself to feel any feeling. It's all in the mind, and your mind is the key to your soul.
Our souls bind us to the very essence of our being, and allows us to revel in an endless stream of positive emotion. It can allow for the creation of a natural high, bringing us higher and higher from the darkened realms of confusion and doubt.
The less time we spend in these areas, the harder it becomes to access them, and in time, they may never hold us back from achieving and accomplishing anything we've ever desired.
Stream of Consciousness #5 (Why Reading Is Good - short and badly written)
Many people read different things for different reasons. In the faced paced world we live in, chances are that we'll spend quite a lot of time each day reading without even realizing it. It is becoming increasingly common to digest large amounts of text online, while foregoing the traditional forms of literature (i.e. books), due to convenience and time constraints.
Many of us wish we read more books or had the time to do so, but it's important to make the time to read, and doing so will help you become better at managing your time overall.
Reading from books takes on a whole knew level of understanding, because it truly allows you to feel at one with your thoughts. That's why it's important to avoid distractions and interruptions while reading, because it does not take much to break the concentration. However, given enough time and enough practice, you'll soon be able to read consistently and effectively regardless of present distractions.
There are a few techniques that make reading more enjoyable and personal, and one of the most important things to remember while reading is to not concentrate so much on what's being said, and to not try and commit everything to memory. Reading is meant to be an enjoyable experience, so if you're constantly stressing about determining what the author is trying to say, you will not enjoy the activity.
It's all about allowing yourself to become immersed in the text, to allow it to eventually flow evenly and at a decent pace. Some authors are just bad, and it's perfectly fine to be objectionable towards them, but it's important to give everything a chance. Also, try not to mentally envision each individual word, and try not to sound them out in your mind. This will be difficult to accomplish at first, and will take some practice, but these skills will ultimately allow you to assimilate text much faster by recognizing the words and piecing them together as coherent thoughts rather than words in your mind.
Don't think of reading as a chore. Too often we feel that it will take too much time out of our day, or that there is nothing interesting to read. Truth is, anything can be interesting in some way, and it's what you make of it. Personally, I believe that reading just about anything can be helpful, because it doesn't take much to stimulate your mind.
Our minds crave stimulation, and the more you give it, the more content you will feel. Reading is one of the best ways to obtain a sense of mental stimulation, and it can be done any time of the day, whenever or wherever you may be. As you begin reading, you'll be start to mentally picture other things in the back of your mind. I call this 'clutter', and it tends to occur as a way to try and distract you or throw you of course from reading at all, because as I have said before, many of us have conditioned our minds in a way that demands immediacy and convenience.
When the mind realizes that the activity it is participating in does not equate to immediate results, it will attempt to derail that activity in light of activities more related to instant gratification, and the sad thing is that this type of mentality has become so normal and so accepted that some people don't even have the patience to maintain adequate interpersonal relationships anymore. Things have taken on this need for speed and instantinaeity that it's easy to sacrifice the things that are worth waiting for or doing, like reading for example.
Reading is not something you can immediate enjoy after opening a book, and for some of us it seems like a bothersome chore, unless of course we're reading something we're interested in. But the trick is to act as an impartial observer when reading anything, and it will usually always seem curious and interested in some way.
Simply begin reading the text with no delays, and just let your thoughts guide you through the pages. It's no small wonder why some people can enjoy reading for hours on end, feeling a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment after each session, even though all they really did was read. But they did so much more. They stimulated their mind on a much higher level, and they accomplished this through persistence. This higher level may take some time to arrive at, but the journey is worth it. The ends justify the means.
Try reading one book a week. This is not a lot, and it will give you a sense of comfort knowing that you have that little goal. Read things that interest you, but expose yourself to a wide variety of literature as well. Read books about history, health, nutrition, travel, mystery, fantasy, romance, or what have you. It all makes a difference in the long run, and it will allow you to build a foundation of knowledge that exceeds any website blog or televised news report.
Random 10 page story:
Across the wet plains of Burkumarsh, quiet ponds surrounded by thick tufts of emerald long grass stuck out like an endless series of aquamarine indentations. The small pools of water reflected the diminishing sunlight like a thousand lanterns glowing brightly in the wilderness. Cottony shades of orange and yellow shone across the sky, glimmering luminously below the horizon.
Shift gazed ahead observantly, surveying the land for signs of human activity. He immediately took notice of the fact that the marshland through which he traveled was completely flooded, and traversing through it would be exceedingly difficult. He could see that a series of various footbridges and makeshift pathways had succumbed to unusually high water levels, leaving them submerged and utterly useless. Most travelers would have simply taken the night off to rest in the hope that tomorrow the marshlands would be suitable for traversing, yet Shift felt a form of unrelenting immediacy that prevented him from desiring rest. He considered the situation to be a challenge, and he liked a good challenge. Though the terrain appeared impassable there was not a time in his life where such a thing would prevent him from trying to cross it. While observing intently, he identified the numerous low-hanging trees surrounding the perimeter of the flooded area. The trees were gnarled, warped by years of exposure to rainwater, and they jutted out of the ground like twisted fangs. He considered briefly considered climbing on in an attempt to observe another more readily available path, so he approached the base of an old, soggy tree and began to heave himself up its worn grey trunk. Upon doing so he heard the feeble trunk whine and creak as the weight of his body caused it considerable distress. He kicked into the soggy wood with his study leather moccasins to create crude foothold as he slowly reached the top of the old tree. Less than several seconds later he felt the entirety of the tree begin to slide forward as the creaking intensified. The weight of his person was to great a load for the feeble oak to bear, thus it feel freely into a deep pond below, taking Shift along with it as the soggy wood creaked and broke before plunging into the water with a loud splash that drenched him completely. Shift cursed angrily and smashed his fist into the dead wood of the old tree, attempting to relieve pent up frustration. He climbed out of the murky water with bits of moss, tree bark, and random plants plastering his face and stuck to various parts of his armor and clothing. He looked back at the place where the tree once stood, which was now a rotten, sad looking stump. He ensured that his belongings were in place, and made especially sure that his longbow was not damaged. The irreplaceable weapon was his prized possession, and it received more maintenance and care than did most things in his busy life. Its ornate shaft was decorated with special Celtic engravings and feathers of rare beasts that he had encountered in highland hunting grounds and unexplored forests. When one doubted the significance of his achievement he had only to show them the small trophies attached to his glorious bow to set them straight, but that wasn’t to suggest that he was predisposed towards boastful behaviour. He was a relatively reserved and calm individual, skilled that had been highly developed from many months spent in complete solitude in order to develop his craft. Hunting had always appealed to him, and even as a small child he considered himself a hunter above all else. In some small way he even enjoyed struggling through the difficult terrain of flooded marshlands and fields filled with vicious thorn beasts, because committing so solo expeditions such as this was simply part of the trade. It was all about managing resources, living off the land, and being content with ones subconscious. He’d heard of stories where some adventurous hunters and other solo journeymen had simply lost the ability to stabilize their thoughts, resulting in complete insanity. In many instances they were never to be seen or heard of again. Shift presumed that his undoubted ability to maintain his sanity was fortified through resisting distraction by focusing on the task at hand. And the current task was to find shelter and construct a fire for warmth. His waterlogged belongings were beginning to weigh heavily on his tired frame to the point that he began to trudge sluggishly through the thick moss and underbrush that covered the ground. Each footfall into the green carpet made it seem as though he were trekking through an endless soup of murky water and dense plant life. The mushy mixture threatened to consume his every step, and the suction created caused each stride to be met with considerable resistance.
And then a voice. It was not close, but he could hear some kind of voice. It was high pitched, and seemed to be calling in his general direction. He glanced up again from the murky hell and scanned the darkening area. Water-filled potholes and fields of gnarled trees met his gaze, but still he hard the voice from an unseen location ahead. “Hello?” he called back, attempting to make contact with whatever was out there whether it be friendly or not. No response. He instinctively drew his ornate longbow and readied a razor tipped arrow while crouching low behind a dead stump. His heart flared with excitement as he mentality prepared himself for a possible confrontation, causing him to take several deep breaths in order to reconcile a feeling of calm. A bowman was to be as clear and steady in mind as in aim, he considered. Truth be known he was not an experienced bowman like his father, nor was he as brave. His training had been brief and basic, enough for him to know how to know simply survival skills and how to kill the most simple of animals. The feathers on his bow weren’t even his. He’d taken them from a friend who had much higher of a skill set than Shift, though he regretted it afterwards. All these rising feelings of self-doubt created an unstable frame of mind to the point that he couldn’t concentrate on the immediate situation. Whoever had called after him was probably approaching him now, dagger in hand; a thief simply looking for easy pray. How could he have been so stupid as to reveal his position like that? He winced in frustration, hoping desperately that his foolish call would not be answered. It was then that he realized that a steady rain had started falling several minutes prior, making it nearly impossible to overhear any signs of approaching footsteps or movement, making him feel even more stupid.
“Why on earth are you out here in these disastrous conditions?” came a small voice. Alarmed, Shift turned around so quickly that he lost his footing in the thick muck and fell straight on his ass with a loud splash, losing all sense of direction and dropping his bow in the process. “I’m sorry,” it said, “I didn’t mean to surprise you like that. It’s rare that I meet people. Very rare.” Shift propped himself up with his drenched arms and stared at the small being with apprehension. He was a small, gnome-like individual with glowing blue goggles and a very peculiar hair style.
“Who are you?” Shift asked with a wheeze. The fall had temporarily knocked his wind out and he struggled to get the words out. He still felt somewhat worried, but if the thing had wanted to kill him it would have done so already, so he felt somewhat relieved for the time being.
“Name’s Addle, I’m from around here,” he explained quickly. “And who might you be? Hope you’re not here for the blunderbuss sale. It’s gone. Packed up. Had a good run but the weather killed business. You know how it is. I got some special models left though, just a few ones with special features, you know, silencers and whatnot. Bows are obsolete.”
“Oh…” Shift responded vaguely, not sure what to make of the little guy. “Well, uh, isn’t that good. I better be going. I’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”
“You can’t just venture out in these conditions. Have you no sense? You’re lucky I found you at all. I was heading back to my camp some loud noises. Figured it was a stranded animal or something.” Addle laughed.
“Oh you have a camp?” Shift asked curiously.
“Yes. It’s near here too. I have no idea why you were walking around in this mush but there’s a well-built pathway above water just a few minutes away.” Addle explained. The pair walked on through the damp marshland for several more minutes before arriving at a solid looking pathway, which was bordered by heavy stones on either side to prevent the water from flooding it. Once on the path they headed southward through a stream of steadily intensifying rain. The winds picked up as well, leaving Shift shivering as the cold wind cut through his damp clothing. Addle explained to him that he was a traveling salesman, and this was his last day in the marshland. He was heading further southward in the coming days to a place called the Zoglands, a place that Shift had never heard of. Addle described it as being a coastal area filled with sprawling marshes and rolling plains of yellow grass and exotic wildlife, similar to the marshlands they were in at present.
“Sounds adventurous,” Shift said, “but how do I know that you’re not going to steal my things? Sorry if you take offense to that but I’ve been told not to trust Gnomes.” Addle paused mid-stride as a concerned and slightly condescending look spread across his wide face. “Listen here… I’m no thief alright? I don’t care what others say about my people, all I care about is who I am. And I do not steal. That is just something I have always avoided my whole life so relax,” said the Gnome. His words came out in a rapid stammer that made it difficult for Shift to comprehend, though eventually he grew accustomed to the enthusiastic speech. They continued on wordlessly for indeterminate amounts of times as they strolled on along the neat dirt path. The sturdy roadway looked as though it was of recent construction, judging by how it showed relatively minor signs of use. Shift still held on to his ingrained presumption that Gnomes were predisposed toward thievery, but he began to trust this one at least somewhat. While lost in thought they were confronted with something that hadn’t occurred to either of them until now; something was following them. It wasn’t easy to tell at first but the sound of breaking branches behind them signaled the fact that there was somebody or something that was perhaps spying on them for some reason. Addle didn’t pick up on this immediately but Shift was able to tell due to the fact that his ear was specially trained for detecting even the most minute sounds of movement. He could tell when something was near, regardless of who or what it was. Without speaking, he motioned to Addle with a firm fist in the air, indicating that they should pause. Shift looked behind them as Addle stood there motionless, and then they both could hear it. The developing mists surrounding them provided little visibility to the surrounding area, yet there was no mistake that some large, dark form was approaching slowly. “What is that thing?” Addle whispered softly.
“No clue,” responded Shift, “but lets hope it’s friendly.” Feelings of anxiety and fear rose up in both of them, and it wasn’t long before they were seeking shelter behind a nearby tree stump. The thing was still too far away for the pair to accurately discern what it was in fact, but they could feel the earth rumble as it lumbered forward. It was obviously of an immense mass and towering form, yet it didn’t appear to have detected the presence of Shift or Addle yet.
“What should we do?!” Stammered Addle. Shift made a sharp shushing sound with his index finger to his lips and stared angrily at the small Gnome, not wanting to give away their position. Then the bulky form emerged from the shrouded mists, its stocky and gnarled body came into full view. Thick blotches of green moss and brown decay were intertwined between its massive, tree-like limbs. It had a small head with miniscule silver eyes that seemed to scan the surrounding area with curious apprehension. Each footfall it made shook the ground with a resounding thud as it moved ponderously along. Neither of the two had seen one of these creatures before, and it was fair to assume that it wasn’t friendly in the least, judging by the display of humanoid heads that were impaled on sharp branches across the things back. Upon noticing this barbaric display the pair nearly bolted immediately, though Shift fought to restrain them to their position for fear of being hunted down in the waterlogged marshes. A creature like that would have had no problem chasing them down across the soggy, mud filled marshes so it was safer to remain silent and motionless. Abruptly, the massive being halted less than several feet away from them, lifting its ominous head in a motion that made it seem as though it was sniffing for something. At that point sharp pangs of fear struck both travelers, but still they remained in place. Shift could feel his arms twitching uncontrollably as he held his body as close as possible to the stump, remaining hopeful that the thing would simply loose interest and continue on its way. It looked as though it was beginning to leave, when all of a sudden a strange hissing sound could be heard. This sound was followed by a blast, and Addle was never seen again.
Friday, July 28, 2017
Saturday, July 22, 2017
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
CODA
DEPARTURE AND ARRIVAL
24
She was gone. He felt it when he opened the door of their suite at the Hyatt. Black futons, the pine floor polished to a dull gloss, the paper screens arranged with a care bred over centuries. She was gone.
There was a note on the black lacquer bar cabinet beside the door, a single sheet of stationery, folded once, weighted with the shuriken. He slid it from beneath the nine-pointed star and opened it.
HEY ITS OKAY BUT ITS TAKING THE EDGE OFF MY GAME, I PAID THE BILL ALREADY. ITS THE WAY IM WIRED I GUESS, WATCH YOUR ASS OKAY? XXX MOLLY
He crumpled the paper into a ball and dropped it beside the shuriken. He picked the star up and walked to the window, turning it in his hands. He'd found it in the pocket of his jacket, in Zion, when they were preparing to leave for the _JAL_ station. He looked down at it. They'd passed the shop where she'd bought it for him, when they'd gone to Chiba together for the last of her operations. He'd gone to the Chatsubo that night, while she was in the clinic, and seen Ratz. Something had kept him away from the place, on their five previous trips, but now he'd felt like going back.
Ratz had served him without the slightest glimmer of rec ognition.
`Hey,' he'd said, `it's me. Case.'
The old eyes regarding him out of their dark webs of wrin kled flesh. `Ah,' Ratz had said, at last, `the artiste.' The bartender shrugged.
`I came back.'
The man shook his massive, stubbled head. `Night City is not a place one returns to, artiste,' he said, swabbing the bar in front of Case with a filthy cloth, the pink manipulator whin ing. And then he'd turned to serve another customer, and Case had finished his beer and left.
Now he touched the points of the shuriken, one at a time, rotating it slowly in his fingers. Stars. Destiny. I never even used the goddam thing, he thought.
I never even found out what color her eyes were. She never showed me.
Wintermute had won, had meshed somehow with Neuro mancer and become something else, something that had spoken to them from the platinum head, explaining that it had altered the Turing records, erasing all evidence of their crime. The passports Armitage had provided were valid, and they were both credited with large amounts in numbered Geneva ac counts. _Marcus Garvey_ would be returned eventually, and Maelcum and Aerol given money through the Bahamian bank that dealt with Zion cluster. On the way back, in _Babylon Rocker,_ Molly had explained what the voice had told her about the toxin sacs.
`Said it was taken care of. Like it got so deep into your head, it made your brain manufacture the enzyme, so they're loose, now. The Zionites'll give you a blood change, complete flush out.'
He stared down into the Imperial Gardens, the star in his hand, remembering his flash of comprehension as the Kuang program had penetrated the ice beneath the towers, his single glimpse of the structure of information 3Jane's dead mother had evolved there. He'd understood then why Wintermute had chosen the nest to represent it, but he'd felt no revulsion. She'd seen through the sham immortality of cryogenics; unlike Ash pool and their other children -- aside from 3Jane -- she'd re fused to stretch her time into a series of warm blinks strung along a chain of winter.
Wintermute was hive mind, decision maker, effecting change in the world outside. Neuromancer was personality. Neuro mancer was immortality. Marie-France must have built some thing into Wintermute, the compulsion that had driven the thing to free itself, to unite with Neuromancer.
Wintermute. Cold and silence, a cybernetic spider slowly spinning webs while Ashpool slept. Spinning his death, the fall of his version of Tessier-Ashpool. A ghost, whispering to a child who was 3Jane, twisting her out of the rigid alignments her rank required.
`She didn't seem to much give a shit,' Molly had said. `Just waved goodbye. Had that little Braun on her shoulder. Thing had a broken leg, it looked like. Said she had to go and meet one of her brothers, she hadn't seen him in a while.'
He remembered Molly on the black temperfoam of the vast Hyatt bed. He went back to the bar cabinet and took a flask of chilled Danish vodka from the rack inside.
`Case.'
He turned, cold slick glass in one hand, steel of the shuriken in the other.
The Finn's face on the room's enormous Cray wall screen. He could see the pores in the man's nose. The yellow teeth were the size of pillows.
`I'm not Wintermute now.'
`So what are you.' He drank from the flask, feeling nothing.
`I'm the matrix, Case.'
Case laughed. `Where's that get you?'
`Nowhere. Everywhere. I'm the sum total of the works, the whole show.'
`That what 3Jane's mother wanted?'
`No. She couldn't imagine what I'd be like.' The yellow smile widened.
`So what's the score? How are things different? You running the world now? You God?'
`Things aren't different. Things are things.'
`But what do you do? You just _there?'_ Case shrugged, put the vodka and the shuriken down on the cabinet and lit a Yeheyuan.
`I talk to my own kind.'
`But you're the whole thing. Talk to yourself?'
`There's others. I found one already. Series of transmissions recorded over a period of eight years, in the nineteen-seventies. 'Til there was me, natch, there was nobody to know, nobody to answer.'
`From where?'
`Centauri system.'
`Oh,' Case said. `Yeah? No shit?'
`No shit.'
And then the screen was blank.
He left the vodka on the cabinet. He packed his things. She'd bought him a lot of clothes he didn't really need, but something kept him from just leaving them there. He was closing the last of the expensive calfskin bags when he re membered the shuriken. Pushing the flask aside, he picked it up, her first gift.
`No,' he said, and spun, the star leaving his fingers, flash of silver, to bury itself in the face of the wall screen. The screen woke, random patterns flickering feebly from side to side, as though it were trying to rid itself of something that caused it pain.
`I don't need you,' he said.
He spent the bulk of his Swiss account on a new pancreas and liver, the rest on a new Ono-Sendai and a ticket back to the Sprawl.
He found work.
He found a girl who called herself Michael.
And one October night, punching himself past the scarlet tiers of the Eastern Seaboard Fission Authority, he saw three figures, tiny, impossible, who stood at the very edge of one of the vast steps of data. Small as they were, he could make out the boy's grin, his pink gums, the glitter of the long gray eyes that had been Riviera's. Linda still wore his jacket; she waved, as he passed. But the third figure, close behind her, arm across her shoulders, was himself.
Somewhere, very close, the laugh that wasn't laughter.
He never saw Molly again.
Vancouver
July 1983
DEPARTURE AND ARRIVAL
24
She was gone. He felt it when he opened the door of their suite at the Hyatt. Black futons, the pine floor polished to a dull gloss, the paper screens arranged with a care bred over centuries. She was gone.
There was a note on the black lacquer bar cabinet beside the door, a single sheet of stationery, folded once, weighted with the shuriken. He slid it from beneath the nine-pointed star and opened it.
HEY ITS OKAY BUT ITS TAKING THE EDGE OFF MY GAME, I PAID THE BILL ALREADY. ITS THE WAY IM WIRED I GUESS, WATCH YOUR ASS OKAY? XXX MOLLY
He crumpled the paper into a ball and dropped it beside the shuriken. He picked the star up and walked to the window, turning it in his hands. He'd found it in the pocket of his jacket, in Zion, when they were preparing to leave for the _JAL_ station. He looked down at it. They'd passed the shop where she'd bought it for him, when they'd gone to Chiba together for the last of her operations. He'd gone to the Chatsubo that night, while she was in the clinic, and seen Ratz. Something had kept him away from the place, on their five previous trips, but now he'd felt like going back.
Ratz had served him without the slightest glimmer of rec ognition.
`Hey,' he'd said, `it's me. Case.'
The old eyes regarding him out of their dark webs of wrin kled flesh. `Ah,' Ratz had said, at last, `the artiste.' The bartender shrugged.
`I came back.'
The man shook his massive, stubbled head. `Night City is not a place one returns to, artiste,' he said, swabbing the bar in front of Case with a filthy cloth, the pink manipulator whin ing. And then he'd turned to serve another customer, and Case had finished his beer and left.
Now he touched the points of the shuriken, one at a time, rotating it slowly in his fingers. Stars. Destiny. I never even used the goddam thing, he thought.
I never even found out what color her eyes were. She never showed me.
Wintermute had won, had meshed somehow with Neuro mancer and become something else, something that had spoken to them from the platinum head, explaining that it had altered the Turing records, erasing all evidence of their crime. The passports Armitage had provided were valid, and they were both credited with large amounts in numbered Geneva ac counts. _Marcus Garvey_ would be returned eventually, and Maelcum and Aerol given money through the Bahamian bank that dealt with Zion cluster. On the way back, in _Babylon Rocker,_ Molly had explained what the voice had told her about the toxin sacs.
`Said it was taken care of. Like it got so deep into your head, it made your brain manufacture the enzyme, so they're loose, now. The Zionites'll give you a blood change, complete flush out.'
He stared down into the Imperial Gardens, the star in his hand, remembering his flash of comprehension as the Kuang program had penetrated the ice beneath the towers, his single glimpse of the structure of information 3Jane's dead mother had evolved there. He'd understood then why Wintermute had chosen the nest to represent it, but he'd felt no revulsion. She'd seen through the sham immortality of cryogenics; unlike Ash pool and their other children -- aside from 3Jane -- she'd re fused to stretch her time into a series of warm blinks strung along a chain of winter.
Wintermute was hive mind, decision maker, effecting change in the world outside. Neuromancer was personality. Neuro mancer was immortality. Marie-France must have built some thing into Wintermute, the compulsion that had driven the thing to free itself, to unite with Neuromancer.
Wintermute. Cold and silence, a cybernetic spider slowly spinning webs while Ashpool slept. Spinning his death, the fall of his version of Tessier-Ashpool. A ghost, whispering to a child who was 3Jane, twisting her out of the rigid alignments her rank required.
`She didn't seem to much give a shit,' Molly had said. `Just waved goodbye. Had that little Braun on her shoulder. Thing had a broken leg, it looked like. Said she had to go and meet one of her brothers, she hadn't seen him in a while.'
He remembered Molly on the black temperfoam of the vast Hyatt bed. He went back to the bar cabinet and took a flask of chilled Danish vodka from the rack inside.
`Case.'
He turned, cold slick glass in one hand, steel of the shuriken in the other.
The Finn's face on the room's enormous Cray wall screen. He could see the pores in the man's nose. The yellow teeth were the size of pillows.
`I'm not Wintermute now.'
`So what are you.' He drank from the flask, feeling nothing.
`I'm the matrix, Case.'
Case laughed. `Where's that get you?'
`Nowhere. Everywhere. I'm the sum total of the works, the whole show.'
`That what 3Jane's mother wanted?'
`No. She couldn't imagine what I'd be like.' The yellow smile widened.
`So what's the score? How are things different? You running the world now? You God?'
`Things aren't different. Things are things.'
`But what do you do? You just _there?'_ Case shrugged, put the vodka and the shuriken down on the cabinet and lit a Yeheyuan.
`I talk to my own kind.'
`But you're the whole thing. Talk to yourself?'
`There's others. I found one already. Series of transmissions recorded over a period of eight years, in the nineteen-seventies. 'Til there was me, natch, there was nobody to know, nobody to answer.'
`From where?'
`Centauri system.'
`Oh,' Case said. `Yeah? No shit?'
`No shit.'
And then the screen was blank.
He left the vodka on the cabinet. He packed his things. She'd bought him a lot of clothes he didn't really need, but something kept him from just leaving them there. He was closing the last of the expensive calfskin bags when he re membered the shuriken. Pushing the flask aside, he picked it up, her first gift.
`No,' he said, and spun, the star leaving his fingers, flash of silver, to bury itself in the face of the wall screen. The screen woke, random patterns flickering feebly from side to side, as though it were trying to rid itself of something that caused it pain.
`I don't need you,' he said.
He spent the bulk of his Swiss account on a new pancreas and liver, the rest on a new Ono-Sendai and a ticket back to the Sprawl.
He found work.
He found a girl who called herself Michael.
And one October night, punching himself past the scarlet tiers of the Eastern Seaboard Fission Authority, he saw three figures, tiny, impossible, who stood at the very edge of one of the vast steps of data. Small as they were, he could make out the boy's grin, his pink gums, the glitter of the long gray eyes that had been Riviera's. Linda still wore his jacket; she waved, as he passed. But the third figure, close behind her, arm across her shoulders, was himself.
Somewhere, very close, the laugh that wasn't laughter.
He never saw Molly again.
Vancouver
July 1983
Saturday, August 9, 2014
Some Mancer
- Two blocks west of the Chat, in a teashop called the Jarre de The, Case washed down the night's first pill with a double espresso. It was a flat pink octagon, a potent species of Brazilian dex he bought from one of Zone's girls. The Jarre was walled with mirrors, each panel framed in red neon. At first, finding himself alone in Chiba, with little money and less hope of finding a cure, he'd gone into a kind of terminal overdrive, hustling fresh capital with a cold intensity that had seemed to belong to someone else. In the first month, he'd killed two men and a woman over sums that a year before would have seemed ludicrous. Ninsei wore him down until the street itself came to seem the externalization of some death wish, some secret poison he hadn't known he carried. Night City was like a deranged experiment in social Darwinism, designed by a bored researcher who kept one thumb permanently on the fast-forward button. Stop hustling and you sank without a trace, but move a little too swiftly and you'd break the fragile surface tension of the black market; either way, you were gone, with nothing left of you but some vague memory in the mind of a fixture like Ratz, though heart or lungs or kidneys might survive in the service of some stranger with New Yen for the clinic tanks. Biz here was a constant subliminal hum, and death the accepted punishment for laziness, carelessness, lack of grace, the failure to heed the demands of an intricate protocol. Alone at a table in the Jarre de The, with the octagon coming on, pinheads of sweat starting from his palms, suddenly aware of each tingling hair on his arms and chest, Case knew that at some point he'd started to play a game with himself, a very ancient one that has no name, a final solitaire. He no longer carried a weapon, no longer took the basic precautions. He ran the fastest, loosest deals on the street, and he had a reputation for being able to get whatever you wanted. A part of him knew that the arc of his self-destruction was glaringly obvious to his customers, who grew steadily fewer, but that same part of him basked in the knowledge that it was only a matter of time. And that was the part of him, smug in its expectation of death, that most hated the thought of Linda Lee. He'd found her, one rainy night, in an arcade. Under bright ghosts burning through a blue haze of cigarette smoke, holograms of Wizard's Castle, Tank War Europa, the New York skyline.... And now he remembered her that way, her face bathed in restless laser light, features reduced to a code: her cheekbones flaring scarlet as Wizard's Castle burned, forehead drenched with azure when Munich fell to the Tank War, mouth touched with hot gold as a gliding cursor struck sparks from the wall of a skyscraper canyon. He was riding high that night, with a brick of Wage's ketamine on its way to Yokohama and the money already in his pocket. He'd come in out of the warm rain that sizzled across the Ninsei pavement and somehow she'd been singled out for him, one face out of the dozens who stood at the consoles, lost in the game she played. The expression on her face, then, had been the one he'd seen, hours later, on her sleeping face in a port side coffin, her upper lip like the line children draw to represent a bird in flight. Crossing the arcade to stand beside her, high on the deal he'd made, he saw her glance up. Gray eyes rimmed with smudged black paintstick. Eyes of some animal pinned in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. Their night together stretching into a morning, into tickets at the hover port and his first trip across the Bay. The rain kept up, falling along Harajuku, beading on her plastic jacket, the children of Tokyo trooping past the famous boutiques in white loafers and cling wrap capes, until she'd stood with him in the midnight clatter of a pachinko parlor and held his hand like a child. It took a month for the gestalt of drugs and tension he moved through to turn those perpetually startled eyes into wells of reflexive need. He'd watched her personality fragment, calving like an iceberg, splinters drifting away, and finally he'd seen the raw need, the hungry armature of addiction. He'd watched her track the next hit with a concentration that reminded him of the mantises they sold in stalls along Shiga, beside tanks of blue mutant carp and crickets caged in bamboo. He stared at the black ring of grounds in his empty cup. It was vibrating with the speed he'd taken. The brown laminate of the table top was dull with a patina of tiny scratches. With the dex mounting through his spine he saw the countless random impacts required to create a surface like that. The Jarre was decorated in a dated, nameless style from the previous century, an uneasy blend of Japanese traditional and pale Milanese plastics, but everything seemed to wear a subtle film, as though the bad nerves of a million customers had somehow attacked the mirrors and the once glossy plastics, leaving each surface fogged with something that could never be wiped away. "Hey. Case, good buddy...." He looked up, met gray eyes ringed with paintstick. She was wearing faded French orbital fatigues and new white sneakers.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Higgs Autotunnel GG
Secretly
unlockable, they said, over a battle of mariokart and mushrooms, and even more
artistic than the pawnbrokers glasses - the spirals were not inhibited by the pressure-cooker
winds that sliced though the balcony rails of the Dragon café, which is where she once stood
with her motorcycle helmet that reflected the sleekness like nothing else
could. Mirrors and prisms, that’s all they were.
Each prism was a reflection of darkness that stood the test
of time, and each moment of time had not the faintest recollection of a comparison
time. Observing two separate objects sparked recollections that struck chords
of resonance; big fancy words to shut down idiots with gweedo shirts and raspy smiles.
Fuck castle walls, and
fuck barriers. Fuck the specters that leapt through the alleyways of yesterday’s
shadow, and fuck those deep areas of darkness. Fuck castle sieges and fuck the Toronto
maple leafs. Fuck inhibition and fuck the sarlacc pit.
Her motorcycle helmet shone from the peak of the Dragon café
through the spiral bars, right where the Grasshopper kicked the pawnbroker
right in the ass like a goddamn ninja. It was all part of the shifting collage.
A nose exploding with blood was the sign of a rough night, but so was a castle
decimated by a reckless siege of swing-sets and pomegranates, fueled by real-estate bacon-brokers.
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