Our cosmic address

In James Joyce's Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (1916), young Stephen Dedalus writes his address in his geography book: Sallins, County Kildare, Ireland, Europe, The World, The Universe. In Thornton Wilder's Our Town (1938), a minister sends a letter to one of the characters, with the following address: Jane Crofut; The Crofut Farm; Grover’s Corners; Sutton County; New Hampshire; United States of America; North America; Western Hemisphere; the Earth; the Solar System; the Universe; the Mind of God. An echo of Joyce's influence over Wilder and also a resonance elevating the mundane to the cosmic.

Nowadays we would have to include Laniakea in the address: the newly named and mapped supercluster consisting of 100,000 galaxies, of which the Milky Way, our home galaxy, is a very small part. And since many cosmologists are seriously favoring the idea that we live in a multiverse, not merely a universe, we would have to tack the "multi" at the end of the address.
But in any case this addressing very much follows the geocentric plan, starting small and local, progressing to the largest and most universal. "I" is the center, moving out beyond all boundaries and objectivity into pure idea. A mind blowing concept, yes, but a little too simplistic, perhaps. For we must next ask the question, what after all is the spacetime matrix in which all this expanding pool of consciousness sits?

Let us dispense immediately with the notion that we are still in the realm of material creation in addressing this question. We've entered the realm where consciousness itself has to be part of the equation. And consciousness times x equals consciousness, just as an odd number added to an even equals an odd, or a real number times an imaginary number equals an imaginary number.

In conventional physics, space and time do not exist without matter. They are dimensional only in the sense that they are used to measure the material. In this multiversal age we may take the step into multidimensionality and recognize the independent existence of time and space. It is these entities which, together with consciousness, weave the matrix. Then consciousness takes its place like a baby in the "cradle endlessly rocking," lying in the central heart of immeasurable existence. Cosmic address: wherever IT is.

Signal

manifold stars clot the headless sky
drive in the desert till you can't even try
to indulge pursuit of the eternal why
or the reason of what it's concerning

mute punctuations on the walls of space
poems in the raw that the winds may trace
written by the voice with the human face
and the suns of the suns keep on burning

then come echoes from the steely night
lacking the resistance of a fiery bite
just a little early and a little uptight
for the stars are too slow in their turning

deeper and deeper into the maze
some may flicker in and out of phase
some may fade away and some may gaze
and the others are condemned to be yearning

colored curtains and candles with flame
who has the time to remember their name
what's been forgotten is too soon regained
in the cauldron the goddesses are churning

unlikely visions replaced by dream
you never can hold on to what they mean
they sometimes whisper and they sometimes scream
but they all are just a part of what you're learning

sing to the rhythm and  dance the sound
light is the signal in the underground
you're lost on the highway so far from town
no one knows when you'll be returning

Seed

you wrote a poem today
I didn't
therefore your poem
is better than my poem

and yet since my poem
doesn't exist
who is to say
it will not be better
in some impossible future
where I am a great poet

but no one
will write encomiums
to unplanted flowers
or unconceived realities
ripeness is all
the fruit begets itself
the seed that stays a seed
is no seed at all

what unseen caravans trample the air
beneath my eyes
the same that rattle my undreamt brains
in the early morning hours

where nobody cares
about merit

Through the rithm

neutrino technology is actuarial and non-binding / limitless
closest thing to infinity programming as you can get

electrons aggregate / except with polarization which leads to digital reductionism
synodrope / a statistical pudding / one whole taste, not individual elements anymore
a heuristical layer cake of high functioning algorithms under one system of control

digital technology has limited adaptive functioning
heuristic program is self-managing
synodropic function is what we're cognizing

(notes from a conversation with Janet Sussman)

Fielder's choice

I have a very tentative and preliminary comment about the theories linking zero point energy field (ZPF) to quantum physics (as in the works of Lynne McTaggart and Erwin Laszlo). It seems reductive to talk about "The Field" as being ultimate Oneness. In mathematics, the concept of infinity exists but there can be multiple infinities, different types of infinity. Similarly, "the Field" could simply mean a type of field rather than an ultimate Oneness in and of itself: a unified field, not the unified field. In all the theorizing by "New Age" writers and physicists, we have not gotten to the point where consciousness is ontologically linked to the physical world. Consciousness may be seen by McTaggart and others as an intentional agent that affects physical reality, but I do not think we have a "real" physical phenomenon at all until consciousness witnesses it. In this interactivity of subject, object, and epistemological process, creation unfolds out of itself which includes the containment field of the space-time matrix that hosts the "matter." The constituents of creation mechanics thus include the consciousness principle, but the oneness of consciousness itself cannot necessarily be postulated as a priori. Like the quantum particle, its existence is contingent on a complex acausal interaction that simultaneously brings physical reality into being, observes it, completely inhabits it, and finally becomes it. However, when I say "consciousness itself" I do not contradict the multiplicity of consciousnesses which recreate the universe in each of their separate dimensional existences. As in samkhya philosophy, the monads of consciousness, the purusas, are points of individual cosmic existence, each of them self-existent onenesses that do not cross-reference.
Ultimately a more advanced theory of time is needed to unravel the spectrum of Oneness Fields. McTaggart posits "everything in the future already exists at some bottom-rung level in the realm of pure potential, and that in seeing into the future, or the past, we are helping to shape it and bring it into being, just as we do with a quantum entity in the present with the act of observation" (Lynne McTaggart, The Field, p. 173). This viewpoint, as advanced as it may seem, privileges present time unnecessarily. In considering time's trajectory from past to future to be an advancement from more concrete (historical) to more abstract (uncertain and probabilistic), the present becomes simply a moving point along that line. I think we are dealing more with a staging platform which can accommodate all the known temporal states (past, present, and future manifesting something like solid, liquid, and gas) simultaneously through the lens of multiple consciousnesses, existing simultaneously in parallel universes, and ultimately resolving, if at all, in a multiverse that can support completely contradictory laws of nature. Recent research in cosmology may be pushing us in the direction of resolving quantum theory not as a unified field but as a vast warehouse of scrolled fields, each speaking its own language and each contained in its individual jug.

When it changed

Something happened this week while people were distracted by the Presidential election. It had to do with the election, but it was really about what was happening down in the foundations of the structure.

Something was changing. Minds were changing. Hearts were changing. Time itself was changing.

Remember in Ray Bradbury's story "A Sound of Thunder," where the traveler back in prehistoric times accidentally steps on a butterfly and thus when he comes back to the present everything has just gone terribly wrong. A fascist is elected president, when in the reality that the traveler left, that wasn't going to happen.

In 2000 AD, time went off the rails. A fascist was elected president through a succession of dirty tricks, and a host of bad things happened that wouldn't have if the popular choice had won: 9/11. The Iraq War. The banking collapse and stock market crash.

None of that was in the original plan. Who stomped the butterfly that caused the wrong path to be taken?

Then this week, we witnessed a miracle. The train of time that had jumped the rails, gone unaccountably wrong, somehow jumped back on! It took an act of collective consciousness and will, one that it seemed impossible could happen. And yet the impossible did happen, so things changed again. Away from the hell scenario that we were being ushered into by the smiling pink-skinned people who adorned themselves in flag colors.

I don't think it is an exaggeration to say that the impulse threatening us has been murderous in nature. Mostly they are content to poison our food, poison our minds, and bleed us dry. But in their dreams I think they would love to just randomly, casually, shoot us down and pile up the bodies.

What intense relief I feel. Not that it's over; it's never over. This battle is in the cards as long as there are atoms in the universe. But at least the man doesn't have his thumb on the scales any longer. How long has it been in the history of this planet since time got redeemed? Well, I think it just happened again.

The shape of quarks to come

NOTE: The following information has been superseded by itself, as scientific knowledge is by definition subject to constant revision. Thus anything that is said henceforth may be regarded as an illustration of quantum foam, in that the breakdown in structure it implies is embedded in the very structure of what is being said at the moment. This inherent self-referentiality and paradoxicality thereby temporarily converts qubikuity into a postmodern blog, for better or worse.
Someone mentioned quantum foam the other day as a pleasant-sounding thing, and I agreed that if you ordered a cosmic cappucino, you would definitely want it with lots of quantum foam.
Quantum foam refers to the miniscule scale where physical reality breaks down from the level of solid objects into complete immateriality. This is said to be at the incredibly tiny Planck length, or 10(-37) cm. The smallest bit of matter we know of is the quark. Now, I have been googling around to find out what a quark looks like. My guess is that it is not round like a tiny billiard ball. Anything that is on the verge of being dissolved into quantum foam is unlikely to be so regularly shaped. Furthermore, they are unlikely to be hard like billiard balls as well. My guess is that they have a spongy surface, rather like green cheese as in the case of the surface of the moon.
Of the six types of quarks (up, down, top, bottom, charm, and strange), the smallest is the up quark. The up quark is also known as a first-generation quark. By comparison, the bottom quark is quite large, but then it pops in and out of existence for only a micro-instant. Evidently, on that level, size doesn't really "matter."
For your edification I have found a picture of a bottom quark, again by googling. This is as accurate as present-day science can render it.

The rope

a skinny rope

hanging in space
attached to nothing

supports the weight of moons
heavy planets
eclipses
and sorrow

all air lifts
feet dancing up the aerial path
mind takes wing and
who can gainsay this
light quintessence

the rope could

pull it down and the curtain opens

The way it is

We are in thrall, no doubt, to unseen forces which may be human, alien, or a combination thereof. Their existence behind the scenes, pulling the strings, determining our lives in ways great and small, is well documented. Most people now accept the fact of a secret conspiracy that has existed for centuries and has led to control by a few of the world's riches. What gives them this degree of domination over people's lives? Their ability to control people's minds.

The project of dumbing down humanity, endemic in history for generations, has been going especially well of late. The PTB (Powers That Be) have discovered how to subvert our belief systems so that whenever we act in what we conceive to be our own interest, we are in fact doing the bidding of the impersonal power elite whom we unwittingly serve. Our accustomed basis of ethics and rationality lies in we believe about ourselves. We see ourselves as good. Our unconscious sees us as evil as a corrective and so they are at war with each other. Both are deluded.

This inner war that is fought every second in every cell in the body between the anti-entropic forces of life and the free radical forces of death finds its reflection in human conflicts and in the works of the imagination, which depend upon standards of opposition. The binary split which creates such dynamics of evolution and change in biological systems and cultural histories is terrifying and forces our minds into paralysis. It is as if we deny the reality of struggle all about us, in favor of the negligent peace of a separated mental stance. This fact is food for the PTB. It enables them to feed us on images of warring divinities, driving us to distraction, while their banquet tables are laden with the spoils of our feverish labors.

Now that I have spilled the beans, so to speak, about the aforementioned (Trigrammaton), your belief system may never be the same again. For that destructive act I may be labelled a terrorist, but hopefully not yet a martyr. To avoid that fate I must go underground, to Pellucidar. You will receive my next dispatch from an overheated room somewhere in the back of my imagination.

Waking

the sleeper wakes
into a dream
and from there wakes
into a series of dreams
where waking is but a vision of light

morning is broken
the shards of the day fall back
into the theatre of night
where plays are endlessly enacted
and the stage is but a stage
for future performances

stop counting time
play the music to its own beat
you will yet be able to take your exit
when the early dawn
wraps itself around your feet

Puzzling the will

The will to live. It's a good thing, so we think. In fact, isn't there a judgment about people who do not have much of a will to live? I'm not just talking about people who are driven to suicide, but those who live carelessly and let themselves lapse into ill health, or who simply underutilize their resources and live less fully than perhaps they ought? It speaks to our own will to live, somehow offending the norm of the entire human community in which we find ourselves. We are all here equally under the circumscription of the body and the senses, and "the heart-ache and the thousand shocks that flesh is heir to." And we all have to daily exercise that will muscle in order to have the determination to stick with it. You can't get out of it that easily, we say to our less willful brethren. Suck it up already!

But the question I would pose is: whose will is it really? Who wants us to live? Is it even ourselves? How do we know some alien race has not bred us to inhabit this planet, and somehow needs our life force to exercise itself for a certain number of years in order to benefit them energetically somehow. Some variation of The Matrix, in other words. How do we know our will is our own? How do we know we are not simply being manipulated by some bioenergetic device to maintain our existence here, unthinking, unquestioning?

Of course, it could be God's will. In which case it would be all right to obey it. You don't want to piss off God, after all.

It could also be some evil force. That is what the gnostics believed, and they were pretty much synonymous with the early Christians. Not that they thought we should all go "off" ourselves in protest, but they definitely saw us benighted humans as living in prison. The Black Iron Prison, modern day gnostic Philip K. Dick calls it in Valis.

So whether it be God's will that we feel impelled to continue inhabiting this mortal frame, or that of some less benevolent force, we must acknowledge the possibility that this "free" will of ours is an illusion, even in the intimate matter of survival. We have been heavily conditioned, to be sure, to think that we have free will, because it is very useful for "Them" to have us think that way. What a con! We think that our will is our own, so of course we will follow it unquestioningly.

When Hamlet was ruminating about "to be or not to be," he might have been grappling with this very issue:

But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered Country, from whose bourn
No Traveller returns, Puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus Conscience does make Cowards of us all...

It is generally agreed by Shakespeare experts that the "conscience" Hamlet refers to here is not our modern meaning of conscience, i.e. "doing what's right," but something more akin to consciousness. Specifically, consciousness of our unconsciousness, which we are afraid of. In the case of what is on "the other side," it could be worse than what we've got here. (Although that seems hard to believe, if you've listened to any of the Republican debates.)

They want us to think we have power and that the highest expression of it is our own "free" will to live. Never mind that we have no idea how we got here and generally have no concept of having consented to it. Did they drug us, cajole us with promises of lots of sex and sensual pleasures, or simply tell us everything and anything that we wanted to hear to get us to take out an 80-year mortgage on this big-ass piece of fleshly real estate?

Don't fear the unconscious. Fear what you know. Doubt how you know it. Question everything. If there's any reason we're here, it's to find the truth. Don't blow it.

This is not a blog

Well, this is a blog actually but this is not a post on a blog. This message refuses to be posted, thereby to become a component of this blog, accepting its terms and conditions. This message is Occupying Blogspot. That's right: you are visiting in occupied territory. Occupied by the people. Which people? The people who are the people. Obviously the people who are not the people are not us. Therefore we are the people. And we're occupying this blog until the blog de-hierarchicalizes itself. Hmm, that's not a very attractive word. Nevertheless, as I say, we will occupy this space until our non-agenda is accepted by the non-people and our rights to do whatever shall not be abridged in any way. We do not submit to the powers that be, whoever they are, or are not, and we hereby proclaim our personhood as collective individuals. Thank you for your time. Send $10. That is all.

Maybe baby

If we look at the ingestion of time in human physiology as emulating a quantum information processing model, we could refer to absolute pure consciousness as the principle of Yes; the relativistic dialectical mental consciousness aspect as the principle of No; and the quantum consciousness "wildcard" randomizing principle as the great Maybe that makes us divinely human. When the time component in the spacetime matrix is encountered by the fully potentiated mind, there is a hypercharged negentropic counterpoise to the Time Arrow as it curves downward in the universal general relativity geodesic. Thus we have the capacity not to choose as well as to choose. We become like cosmic Hamlets, trying to decide whether or not to act and ending up instead in a state of suspension, of divine discontent. Like an electron in a state of quantum superposition, we do not incline to locate ourselves absolutely in time and space, but let ourselves roam the universe like a giant bird looking for a place to perch. The uncertainty principle reigns supreme. Probablistically, we strut and fret in the range of a set of solutions to the Schrodinger equation. In the words of Buddy Holly, "Maybe, baby, I'll have you for me." The transposition of the ultimate object (You) for the ultimate subject (Me) is the "solution" to the circular question raised by the ultimate Maybe. This is a consummation devoutly to be wished.

Block time

You need to set your clock to quantum time. What does that mean? It means like when you look at a Seurat, a pointillist painting close up, you see the real texture of the painting. It's not continuous areas of color. It's broken up into tiny bits that the eye processes as an overall color, when actually it's quite the opposite. The very tiniest bits of matter are hypothesized to be Planck length. That's a number with 35 zeros in the denominator. That's small. And Planck time is theorized to have a number with 42 zeros in the denominator. That's quantum time. It's so fragmented and flashing. One moment it's on, the next it's off, the next it's on and off simultaneously. Quantum time doesn't know about Einstein's clocks or Newton's eternity. It's on its own. It doesn't know from linear, okay? Time is like a block. It's not a river like you think. Is it real? Hell yes, it's real. It's not moving, your mind is moving, that's what's moving. But time is real. You, you're not real.

Improbable universe

What happened to you today that was improbable? Think about it. Our lives are so delineated, organized, and made predictable not only by outside forces but by ourselves, because we like things that way. But the clue to the truth of life is in those events that clue us in that there are vast regions of unmapped territory out there. The entire universe is, as a matter of scientific fact, a thoroughly improbable beast.

A recent article in Scientific American called "The Inflation Debate" (April 2011) points out that for a universe to expand rapidly and continuously, in the period of what is known as "inflation" just subsequent to the original Big Bang, is a highly improbable event to begin with. But for a universe to emerge through the inflation as flat as a pancake, as ours is, relatively speaking--well, the chances of this happening are roughly equivalent to your being able to walk onto a vast beach, plunge your hand somewhere into the sand, and pull out a tiny diamond that I have hidden there. If we didn't know better, we would have to conclude that our present existence is so improbable as to be for all intents and purposes the pipe dream of a jokester deity.

So note and be aware of the little things that happen each day that lie outside the normal range. Because they represent the actual nature of this reality which is, as I have shown, of the most unusual character. One might think that God, or the pantheon of godlike forces, whoever is responsible for creating this unlikely universe, must actually be continuously reverse engineering this place. Not limited by our ideas of linear causality or constrained by the pedestrian organizational principles we humans espouse, the godforce is busy bringing new ideas out of the future to improve the present, while massaging the stomach of the past to better digest this expanding meal of change. This is the only way to explain how the specificity of what has happened could emerge from random conditions. Does God cheat at his own game of cosmic poker? Who's keeping track?

Then too, it may merely be a case that if there is a 1% chance of rain today in Iowa, but I happen to be standing under the only rain cloud in the state, there is a 100% chance of my getting wet. So despite the improbablity of the universe having turned out as it did, creating a conundrum for cosmologists, and despite the improbability of our being here at all in this flabbergastingly strange world (let's face it), we are getting pretty inundated with whatever it is. Call it reality, I don't know. It's a pancake that's getting infinitely rolled up and stuffed like a blintz. And we're supposed to eat this thing?

Spiritual fetishism

There are two primary pitfalls with being involved with anything spiritual. One is spiritual reductionism, which I will discuss at another time. The other is what I call spiritual fetishism. This is where we objectify something whose spiritual essence far exceeds the physical. For example, a guru can become a substitute for the realization of higher consciousness within oneself. He may have started out as a doorway, but he becomes a roadbock.

Another thing that can become a fetish is the container of consciousness itself. A state of consciousness is the result of a delicate balance between pure consciousness, ego, intellect, feelings, senses, and the objects of perception that make up one's world. The resulting personal reality needs to have a certain inner and outer coherence, and a systemic structure and dynamic, in order to have enough stability to serve for any length of time as a platform of awareness. Naturally we get very attached to that stable "personality," but as spiritual evolutionaries we are simultaneously advocates of change and growth. That means the "state of consciousness" we are in, which is a median integral quotient of the strength and amplitude of our consciousness field, is a fetish container for its own metadescription.

Any state of consciousness can become a fetish. If we are in football consciousness, we have made the football a fetish. If we are in cosmic consciousness, we have made a fetish of the state of pure awareness as an ever-present reality along with relative awareness. If we are in unity consciousness, we have made a fetish of the merger of subject and object of perception. Let's face it: as long as we keep evolving to higher states, we are always going to find it irresistible to objectify our own subjectivity.

There is an alternative, though. Maybe we'll pop out of our consciousness fetish one of these days, like a Jack-in-the-box. We'll crack the cosmic egg of our own enlightenment. And when we do, it'll probably scare the hell out of God.

Sun stand thou not still

As we know, the sun revolves around the earth. Or at least we would know that, because of the obvious perception of the sun rising and setting, unless someone had told us otherwise and we believed them. Which of course they did. This is one of the triumphs of education: to prove to us that because we don't understand the simplest facts, we need them to tell us how all things really are.

Maybe we don't deep down believe them though. Why else do we still say "sunrise" and "sunset"? Clearly those words refer to a perception, not a reality. A perception is, however, a kind of reality. In this case it reflects a desire to revert to our original sense of reality about how the universe works. It revolves around us, that's what we want to believe. And maybe we were right to begin with about that, before they started brainwashing us to the contrary. My question is, what have we lost by abandoning the "lower" truth for the "higher" one? What truth does the new paradigm shut out? Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that we used to know we had a place in the universe because of our centrality. From the seventeenth century on, we've lost that sense of center and thus are bereft of a confident reference point from which to evaluate our true place in the cosmos.

That true place is not one of a miniscule speck. Yes, we feel small looking at the transcendent heavens, the painterly whorls and explosions of stars and galaxies in the night sky. But we also feel expanded, as if our selves had ascended and become absorbed into the cosmic level of being. That is the truth that archaic peoples knew. And if they happened to think that they were the center of the universe, who are we tiny-brained moderns to gainsay them?

The bearable heaviness of light

They call them "light" for a reason. They don't weigh anything. They're massless. I'm referring to photons, or particles of light. These light particles are called bosonic, unlike like the little quark particles of matter, which are referred to as fermionic. Bosons can occupy the same quantum state; fermions cannot. In other words, two or more photons can be at precisely the same place at the same time, because they are bosonic, whereas for anything material or fermionic, this is impossible.

Or is it? What if I could turn my material body into bosons? (Dark matter, incidently, may be bosonic, if the fabled Higgs particle is finally discovered in the bowels of the Large Hadron Collider.) --Thus, creating a dark matter copy of myself may allow me to enter another dimension, one that is interpenetrating the four-dimensional spacetime universe that we perceive with our five senses. (The sixth sense obviously doesn't seem to respect this dimensional limitation very well!) The inert dark matter bosons are heavy. Unlike light bosons. And they are dark. Also. But who knows what my dark body would look like and weigh like from the vantage point of the dark side? Like deep sea fishes, I may not be entirely bereft of illumination.

For the past several years I have been using scalar wave technology to restore and strengthen my subtle (or light) body. The process involves removing anomalies in the underlying structure and optimizing its reflective and transmissive potentialities. Perhaps I can scalarize myself enough to make unnecessary that trip to the dark side. As William Blake said (and Jim Morrison later quoted), "Some are born to realms of light / Some are born to endless night."

The masslessness of light may need to be reevaluated in view of Janet Sussman's theories, as explained in this six-part series in her blog The Lion's Maw. Here we encounter the idea of light as perhaps the fundamental constituent of matter as a result of the action of consciousness upon pure, uncreated light. Consciousness consumes and processes pure light and the metabolic result is our bodies. And stars and trees and everything else.

Being is light, literally. Even when it gets a little heavy. That somehow makes it more bearable, doesn't it? "Some are born to sweet delight." Sing it, Jimbo.

Shell

the curve of the full heart's chamber
the bent back turn of the other side
both drawn out of themselves
point down goddess direction
to the chocolate earth

pouring into the secret caves
where capillaries catch
gleaming nectrous juices
like deep discovered drops
on the tongues of Egyptian cats

ventricles of unknowing
sense without eyes
feeling only waves
the point is planted in the firm soil
inciting remembered rites

light dances behind silence
brooking no dispassion
a moon sets behind
the belly of the lake
pressing its fire into the furnace

now pink light curls
through the aurora shell
bells betoken breath rising
in an exhalation of larks
then the quickening

The synecdochal fallacy

Neither time nor consciousness can be grasped as concepts without the understanding that they are fields. They are commonly experienced by the mind as linear phenomena but this is a what we might call the synecdochal fallacy, taking the part for the whole. If you cut a slice off a higher dimension and view it in the context of your dimension, it will indeed be incomplete. (Incidentally, the whole of the incredibly ingenious film Synecdoche, New York can be interpreted from this perspective.) Thus time and consciousness, both being multidimensional realities, transcend causality, linearity, and all the limitations of the 4D spacetime dimensionality with which we are familiar. They are self-referential looping forces or presences, and are best seen as fields. They are zero-point fields in their pure state, but we usually encounter them in activated state (unless we are in meditation or some form of nonordinary awareness). This activated state is also a field but one which is scalarized by the self-referential activity of looping back on itself with informational reflux. Reality is inevitably a layer cake formed by embedded algorithmic data structures.