11,839. RUDIMENTS pt. 717

RUDIMENTS, pt. 717
(magna voce)
Oliver Sachs wrote, in

'Seeing God In the Third

Millennium' : 'Hallucinations,

whether revelatory or banal,

are not of supernatural origin;

they are part of the normal

range of human consciousness

and experience....They provide

evidence only of the brain's

power to create them...The

brain comes to terms with

itself, re-establishes itself,

at other levels.' Maybe that 

was all right and true enough,

scientifically and as a premise,

but to me it wasn't worth much

as a rule. I found that I simply

wasn't that categorical in my

thinking and thus not able to

so arrange my own thoughts

as to fit any schema. My own

'Hallucinations'  -  I always felt  -

were my life and that was that.

But at the same time, they did

always feel supernatural to me

and generated, too, by outside

force or agent. I saw, and still

see, angels on tree limbs, orbs

of goodness, and growth in light.

The rest is but words, and not

worth much.

-

A person who has the time and

the lined-out qualities of self 

to make those distinctions can, 

should they then desire to, draw

then whatever conclusions they 

wish. A dust-mite can build 

to a castle, or become just a

pile of dust, when done. I 

always  felt the brain just 

did what it wanted.

-

There's a funny difference 

now, 35 years on, between 

the 'country' sort of rural 

living I experienced and

what sort of same living is

experienced there now by 

the people from here who 

go out to the country after 

retiring. I don't know if it's

the untoward influence of 

TV and all the junk pushed 

by that, (maybe they begin

believing all that crud and

start hallucinating it as 

the new real when they 

arrive in the country into 

their custom-built shade-twist

faux log cabins and the rest), 

or  just a factual and basic 

difference between now 

and then. You see,  I feel  

all modern people are nuts; 

just your basic pants-poopers, 

who'd believe anything, back 

any cockamamie scheme 

sent their way, and willingly 

live like lapdogs, and happy 

over it, for the rest of their 

days, if they were instructed

that it was right. All you ever

hear nowadays, from the

people who've chucked it

all and bought a country 

home and left their original 

domicile  - (And yes, for 

the most part they are people

whose careers were tax

funded careers  -  municipal 

and  government and 

civil-service people, who 

slogged through their

work years helping to 

make the tax burden more 

expensive for everyone, 

so that they could then

eventually escape and still

continue to live off the 

taxes of others  -  and then

somehow still stand to 

salute the flag of a land 

purporting to be everything

but that)  -  is how they 

have deer and bears and 

snakes and the rest, eating 

their trash, slamming

through their lands and 

fences, etc.  When I lived 

in the far country, at the 

prime end of DDT days

I guess. there wasn't much 

of that happening in any 

way. The land, for the 

most part, was fairly dead  

-  gophers, groundhogs, deer,

maybe, but no one ever saw

an errant bear or wayward

in-flight eagles, etc. Maybe 

the world has changed that 

much, or these people have 

flights of fancy from the

last Grizzly Adams flick they

may have caught. I never know.

All I know is that those who 

get to the country end up 

destroying it just like here : 

Walmarts to Dandy-Marts,

everywhere.

-

To me, that was always stuff

of the brain. The brain was the

physical thing, the white matter

filling the cranium. And that's

the location of the 'thing' that

I think Sachs was always 

gunning after, going on about,

and writing of : the clinical and

the scientific aspects of all that.

To me, the rest  -  the radical

inversions of the creative ranks

and the hallucinatory incendiaries

of the truly 'creative' person  -

were the mind. The Mind. Which

is what dwelled within the Brain

that was the locus for measurement

and stupid-scale works. The

timekeepers and the engineers of

life and physical reality. That was

all the measurable Brain of

colleges and of Corporations.

None of it was 'Mind,' which was

to churning 'co-place' where

real creation lived. The tedious
one can 'examine' the Brain.
The Mind can't be touched.
The brain is a thing.
The mind is not. 

-

I often felt that the New York

City I was walking through was

my own creation. Hallucination?

Maybe so, and maybe too it was

all balderdash on my part to be

thinking that. But what better

way than by enhanced hallucination

was there to reinforce to me the

vividness of the pace I inhabited?

It wasn't all good. It wasn't all

bad. And neither was it going

to be, for, in that aspect, what 

'hallucination' ever is completely

this way or that way? They're

never precise, nor can they 

be found to reside in any one

location on a power-scale of

being. (If you have to measure  -

but  again, realize that's what

the brain does, not the mind). 

The entire idea resembles the 

charmed matter of, again, quarks 

and strings and alternate realities. 

worm-holes, time-escapes and

other-dimensionalities. You can

believe any of this or not, but

it won't 'change' the existence

or the reality of it in any way.

They all exist, and we all take 

place within them, strung as 

we are between the pulls and

forces and attractions of the 

essence and quality that brings 

all matter to the fore to (make) 

comprise the reality we see 

and feel and recognize and 

sense, and which then goes 

into the semblance of matter 

we recombine among each

other to feel certain enough 

to say it is real. Until it isn't

real once again.
-
James Joyce said God is the
voice, the mob, out in the
street. If that was the case,
I saw and still do see God
clearly, and most every day.