RUDIMENTS, pt. 687
(out ahead of us in space)
There are always writerly
decisions to be made. For
instance, should one say,
perhaps, 'Farther and farther
away,' or simply, 'more
distant.' Or 'more and
more distant,' - there are,
at base, some real differences
between them and, of course,
using one cuts out the other
and the writer needs to
balance the loss against the
gain, the missing, against
what's brought in. It's not
only in writing, either. There
are such qualitative differences
in all parts of life, affecting
(and even 'effecting') what
we see and hear, or hold
dear or act upon. That's
why word-wars are often
so vicious. Within the
normal pattern of things
it may not matter, but
over the long haul, like
wall-paint that eventually
coats everything, it does
matter. Worlds of words.
-
I forget when it was, but it
was fairly recent by the
standards of what I'm
writing about here - the
buses of NYC kept rolling
by; their banner side ads for
movies as such, except this
time it was for a film called
'Collatteral Damage' and it
was during one or another
of those Middle East, Iraq or
Iran or something wars. To
me, in my exquisite anger,
they once more just rolled by
me as infuriating evidences
of predictable and planned
propaganda. In this late age
no less! And people fell for
it; as miles distant as it was
from any smidgen of good
sense. The dead from the
Civil War were probably
still ghosting their breath
on glass windows everywhere
across town, and - after
even the ensuing wars of
the last 150 years - the
reigning warriors that be
were using their audacious
powers of crowd control to
get across the message, to
every Joe and Jane Schmuck
they reached, that 'YOU'
are nothing. YOU are
expendable, and YOU
are, perhaps, just another
chiseled playpiece on
our murder-game-board
of Death. And - you
know what? - it went over
perfectly well with those
Janes and Joes everywhere.
Surge indeed! To me what
any of that was was just
pure hurt.
-
That too would be a writerly
decision, something to have
to be thought over carefully
before using. Collateral
damage? It made no sense
to me, as if saying, at the
harmless fender bender,
'Oh, by the way the impact
killed your most cherished
dog.' I could never come up
up with a sentence so coarse.
-
I was already lost before I
got started, and it's all only
gotten deeper since then. I
can't really function at all,
outside of my own rather
other-worldly parameters.
The things that are important
to others mean nothing to me.
Profit. Gain. Loss. Meaning.
Intelligence. Achievement.
All zonal oddities that bear
no relationship to anything.
Long ago I learned one does
not need to have an opinion
about anything - none of it
concerns you. I have none.
I hear voices. I take dictation.
I learned a lot of this while
traipsing the streets of old
New York. Long. Ago.
And. Far. Away. It's all part
of my life now, to this very
day. I do go on. I have
concepts, not ideas. That
is the importance of anything
I may have ever done.
-
"If you have a relationship
with God, ('Piodada') it makes
it very difficult to have any
relationship to Humankind,
in all its dizzying and empty
ongoing distractions. One
merely instead listens and
watches for what transpires,
and then draws evidential
material from it, to solidify
and bolster the conclusions.
(I just heard someone remark,
'And literally....well, not literally,'
and then go on). A curious
calculation, that 'stop' and
hesitancy - living this on
multiple levels then becomes
a thing of privilege, and
privilege is never easy. A
Singularity arises from the
ultimate oneness of design -
even as the aberrant tendencies
which now come forth seem
to overtake the unity. Within
that tension, people dwell.
Unspoken tendencies take
over. A person may say, 'I
am the rule.' While a God
responds : 'I rule the am.'
-
In the constructions of brick, stone,
and mortar are all the bespokings
of the Human - angles, lines,
cubes, forms - and only the
most preliminary assumptions
about 'Space.' By itself, space
does not exist until it is enclosed.
It is only at that point of being
'enclosed' that the assumption
of the concept is given form.
What is usually called 'Space'
outside of that - even with
its strange qualifier of 'outer'
space, is something else entire.
The word there would better
be 'conscious space.' Conscious
space is different from linear
space. Linear space is the space
of the architect or designer or
closeted place. What one does
NOT build, cannot build, is
'conscious space.' One cannot
be building 'expansion' - only
limits can be built. People do
not realize or understand or
accept that they live in limitations,
but instead go about operating
as if they still are in 'conscious'
space. Passing the limitations.
Twilight Zone? The Outer
Limits...? The God of the
primitive, oddly enough, is
praised and worshiped for
having provided enclosure.
Space, place, cube, and square.
It becomes curious, in reading
the old books of the Bible,
how much of the preoccupations
are with 'form' and 'measurement;'
lists, commands, instructions,
lineages and descendancies -
all those cubits and such: Forms.
Dimensions. Limits. The God
presented was quite precise on
these qualities and had His people
to revel in that as well. That God
was praised for granting enclosure,
presenting limits and space and
place - as if these things,
nomadically, had not existed
before? (Nomadically equaling
not-automatically, in a future
sense then unseen?). By such
intendant means, Multidimensionality
ceased. All things became 'systems'
instead - as rock is then chiseled
to nothing, it cannot be made.
Like the rail-road's Snake Hill,
right now, passing Secaucus as
I ride this train. It cannot be
made, just diminished. Space
and singularity result. To then
be praised? The most successful
people work within 'systems.' The
deeper the infusion the more the
success ('gain the whole world
but loseth the soul'), in a manner
of speaking. Each small structure
holds its own, and the most
desperate clinger holds to the
top. Everyday becomes and ark,
and the ark becomes the small
world.
-
I can understand by seeing, that
I have seen everything already
and that I already understand all
things. Like that rock mentioned
before, it can only be diminished
and chipped away at - that
understanding - the more that
dimensional and linear Life takes
over, removing Intuition and Grace
from all that we do. Conscious space,
as it is diminished, cannot always be
brought back unless there is a
sea-change of understanding and
acceptance by the person involved -
and that involves stepping out of
your old self, and walking away.
-
The rest is process and processing.
That relationship of processing
process is not benign - you may as
well then be an insurance agent or
a coder. The most energetic of
people use their energies only to
destroy. Like driving a very
fast race-car swiftly, or speeding
on a motorcycle, if you are not
doing that intuitively, and without
the process of thought (like the
'zen' of archery, nutting the target
without aiming), you will surely
crash. Deadly crash too. Each
Spring you can read the new
riding deaths in numbers.
-
As I write this, now, I am entering
the earth - as a train tunnel takes
me into the city. But I am entering
it in a form and a space of another's
making. I am wrapped in plastic and
steel. Because of that, is it really
me who is entering? Or us not just
the 'form' that I am in, of another's
making. Now the train has stopped,
in the darkness of the tunnel. Am I
here too? Or can I be elsewhere, for
instance, doing this. The simplest
answer is the most complicated:
'You are there, my friend; no bones
about that.' (A smile ensues).
-
How can one make a choice before
'the moment of choosing? Does such
a choice really exist? It precludes,
after all, any changing of things
through time, and makes a million
assumptions about the matter -
that nothing will change; that all
designations will remain the same.
That sort of assuming is impossible
to do; all things are always underway.
Nothing remains unmoving or static.
We are living on a flow now, within
a changeable, and changing, stream
wherein little is fixed or stable.
There are always yet decisions
to be made, but not yet, and not
here. They are still out, ahead of
us, in space.'
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