No rights: homage.
Merry TOOL eve. To each and every one of us.
Per first comment: https://youtu.be/x7lk_iucgw8
Category: esoterica/mysticism
Dream of the Rocky Siege
I dreamt I was under siege last night.
Like Bell Rock.
But ages before.
The rocks were boulders of dingy khaki and earl gray.
Choppy and round, not leveled and smoothed.
But, they too, like the current iteration, remain cool to the touch,
despite constant exposure to the pressure of the sun.
I do no know why I am here, nor why I am being fired upon.
I wear a sleeveless red, knee length dress which renders me a sitting duck visually, per se.
I have on my “clown shoes” as I call them in this reality.
The pair of red, canvas slip ons are not conducive to scaling mountain goat terrain quickly.
Rocks, boulders, are being launched at me by wooden catapults operated by an unseen foe.
I hear them screaming through the air before my eyes can see them.
This is the best advantage I have.
I can look where I am going while feeling assured I will hear the threat.
No need to look for the threat.
I drop to the fetal position under the precipice of a nearby boulder, if available.
I think. If I had an umbrella in the colors of the rocks around me, that might be handy.
Such umbrella appears in my hand.
This is a dream: I think.
I try the umbrella method during the next assault.
They lose me in their scope.
I believe they are hopeful they struck me down and thus can no longer see me.
I leap to feet
too soon,
spoiling the very advantage I just created.
I hear the next rock scream.
Howl. Bad bit of terrain beneath my feet.
This umbrella could deflect the projectile: I imagine.
I open it, crouch down.
My braced arms withstand the pressure of the incoming’s rock momentum.
It bounces off the imagined shield.
I feel like I have won the battle.
Energetic Exchanges
I wear all black with saddle leather boots, for work.
Straightened hair business.
As I walk, I unfurl my energetic wings.
My mantle.
Cold steel blades slide out through my shoulder blades.
Clinking.
I shake them. Loosening.
They respond when I dress this way.
I take care to align each blade so they will fold away properly.
Inappropriate for the task at hand.
I call forth the other side.
gossamer feathers.
Carefully unfurling.
One flies a’loose, fluttering into the breeze like a shining bit of a spider’s web.
The feathers still smell of you from last night.
From when you came to my mind with your pain clear in your
energetic, non-corporeal eyes.
Come in: I told you silently.
You stepped behind my back.
Squared with my shoulder blades.
Your pain began pouring out.
I collected you in my steely wings. Making a box.
A safe place. An unobservable vacuum within which you may thrash and wail.
I dropped down my feather mantle for you.
Draping the steely interior in celestial down.
Those who would prey upon your moment of weakness
slay themselves upon my well-honed metallic feather-blades, trying to break in.
Ships, at night, on a rocky coast with no lighthouse.
With each slam of your energetic body against the walls of my wings, you felt nothing but goose down envelope you.
I took great care to ensure this.
You fell asleep inside. I opened the space, covered you, cupped your hipbone, and slept aside you.
Dream of alternative spelling
I see a man atop a mesa at sunrise.
I laugh as I have the thought: I know him.
Everything is bathed in ruddy red and sunlit pink.
I can see for miles despite being at a low elevation.
Looking back at the man, I see him hold up two configurations of stick bundles.
They form the two letters that sound like my first name.
I think: I shall climb up.
Having the thought, I immediately arrive at his side, atop the mesa.
This is a dream: I say.
The last time you met me here, you slapped me hard and kissed me harder: he said.
I feel embarrassed. I do not remember this.
Do you remember my name?: he asks.
I remember your first and middle name. I remember you refusing to tell me your last name: I say.
Guess it: he says smiling.
Keyes: I conjecture.
Closer. Keynes.: he said.
Almost like the mathematician. Like keening me up: I think.
Waybacks
They sucked us into the parallel decades ago.
Don’t you see the change in the quality of the sunlight?
It is a thin space here.
Closer to the Other.
Go through it.
Come right and clear on the other side of my arch.
Parçigal from between time or Circumstance
Background notes:
Parzifal is the “collective tradition of mankind…is not subject to Time or Circumstance.”
Is for those born of the ‘Heart’s Affliction.’
Researching Parzifal led me to the works of C.S. Jones who wrote The Chalice of Ecstasy “to make the points dealt with [in the drama] as comprehensive as possible to the uninitiated enquirer who is prepared to ‘wake and harken the call.’ “
The writing below is an exercise in synthesis.
All quoted text is pulled from The Chalice of Ecstasy.
All quoted text within quotation marks are quotes Jones included in his work.
He also used WOLFRAM VON ESCHENBACH’s text Parzival as his basis. He does recommend a good translation of the Libretto from R. Wagner’s Parsifal.
Parzival is “written in the keynote of ecstasy” according to Wolfram von Eschenbach and “provides a glimpse of the Eternal Reality.” A key event in the story is Parzival shooting a swan from the sky. The swan represents ecstasy. Parzival should have been condemned for this but is not because of the unique confluence of his circumstances. I like to use the allegory of Parzival which is considered a “living text” as a means of discussing sexuality and gender roles/definition. I also like the idea of the newest incarnation of Parzival being from the perspective of a feminine knight questing for love and understanding with the former.
¤
My ecstasy has indicated I was “born of the ‘Heart’s Affliction.’ “
I found my “way to that spot where they, ‘scarcely move, yet seem to run’ “.
“Having become one with The Way,” I have just come to Tao.
I “discover that the shifting scenes of the world [I] had though so real, will pass [me] by as a pageant until the Vision of the Grail itself is presented to their pure Understanding.” But howl surprised was I to see both you and I.
I fear I believe that all that is written above has occured to me again and again.
I simply continue for long enough to forget and remember it all over again.
A chALice emptied and refilled.
My heart “learned to beat in time and tune with the Soul of the World.”
Rhythm and vibrations are everything we think we know. What is rhythm but
a wave? A wavelength. An S rotated 90% and crossing an axis. Periodicity of the pendulous arm’s swings.
Rhythm is the steady crashing of waves falling.
The entire ocean is every wave.
¤
I feel my being “to be a highly strung musical instrument.”
Fret awaiting fretting. Tuned to the proper tone to be strummed and plucked upon.
A fitt “burn[s] up the veils which hide [me] from Myself.”
It reveals you. A familiar stranger.
Strum me.
“Will runs over [my] strings” and I come to know how to reveal how it is “causing complete and harmonious vibrations.” Do you choose to experience this in your own being? Show me the “unformulated but delightful melody” that is the same song Whitman sang.
The Song of Myself.
I will dance to your song simply because you choose to perform it for me.
I will conduct your currents as you emit them.
I will empty you to refill you.
I am an empty plenum. I contain everything in my nothingness.
I know not the rituals. Yet still I seek to continually “unite the mind to some pure idea by an act of will.” This is the brick wall against which I slam my head “again and again.” The wall where you found me bleeding and dizzy, next to the eggshell pieces of Humpty Dumpty. Alice remembers her name again.
I know not the “Way of Holiness.” I may not impress upon the consciousness of your onlookers.
No-One is the only one that looks upon me thusly.
I am a pure Fool, ignorant and earnest. Before that I was a dummy. I could not speak. I have always been an idiotē.
I have always been the unaffiliated Maverick roaming through the initiated herds, admiring the brands, the symbols emblazoned upon their skin.
My skin is marred by time and circumstance.
My skin is completely unmarked.
Canvas.
¤
“ “There is a Swan whose name is Ecstasy.” “
Also known as you and I.
I “ “wingeth through the blue” and at “[my] coming they push forth the green” “ because I bring spring.
I herald an easter Sunday for your tired soul.
You shot me down from the sky.
And, you did it by virtue of No-One’s weapon but your own.
A Happy Death for me. A Swan’s life born anew in you.
“ “In all the Universe [a] Swan alone in motionlessness, it seems to move as the Sun seems to move; such is the weakness of sight.” “
“ “O fool!”…”Motion is relative; there is nothing that is still.” “ Let me shoot my arrow at you this time. From your “ “ [feathered] breast poured forth blood” “ and I felt ecstatic and you discovered ichor. Now, let me ecstatically enrapture you until your veins flow with it so richly as to sustain this demiurge. You are no longer a Pure Fool because you know. The men that smote you last time will not let you pass again. But, I can sneak you through the gate. Folly is my protector. Let me use it for the protection of the soul of another.
⊙
I am ignorant of the rule and the action taken breaking the rule was kindly intended.
(says the little boy who cried ‘Wolf’)
(says the collective mind who was “just taking orders”)
⊙
Consequences occur regardless of intention.
Risk is underwritten.
In tension, intension.
Suspension of beginning an action and witnessing the resultant reaction and effects of your affect.
I have been called Artemis, Sagittarius (until the stars changed), centaur and satyr.
I read of the marriage of Christian Rosencrutz. Send them my congratulations and best wishes, please.
Where is the Castle and what of the Tower?
“ “By my word, I know you are Parzival-son of Herat’s Affliction” “-and I have recovered the weapon that you flung off after using it to pluck me down from the sky and into the blue lake.
I have discovered-upon that Might of Love which you used to render me slain. You “succeeded where all others had failed,” dear one.
You say you do “now as yet know [t]he True Name-the Word of [Ewer]-Being, though in the past [you had] been called by many names.”
You mention this: “one thing [you] desired to know and to understand. What is the Grail!”
You have already been told that “ “By no one can it be detected Who by itself is not elected.” “
And, you then did “ “Bestride the Bird of Life [because] thou wouldst know.” “
I desire to know if you came to me by slaying me because you wanted to know or because you wanted to know me. And to what end did you intend this knowledge?
The difference between a means to a desired end and being the end desired.
Dis-ingenuity. Do not be disingenuous, sorrel.
It will make it so much worse for you. Through it you turn three pounds of pleasure into three pounds of misery. Should misery please you, you will never be miserable again, if you act duplicitously or maliciously.
A knight need only be kind. Do not attempt to placate with being nice. Kindness does not impress. It empresses upon. Kindness is a way of being and not an act of valour to be selectively undertaken. Kindness can appear cruel to outsiders.
So, I also ask: are you kind?
I desire to know how you found yourself at the intersection of right now. Face to face with me.
This is the cost of admission. Tell me these things and I shall sneak you through the gate.
I just hope you are as brave as you believe yourself to be. Sometimes it will get dark. You have coronated me a Queen of Magnets. I attract all poles.
Howl I hope it is not just a ceremonial sobriquet, sweet fool.
“We are the ELLIPSE OF THE UNIVERSE.”
The handmade amatory ambit.
The amatory ambit which I occupy indicates, to the ears of my heart, that
I am the succulent strumpet sometimes called succubus; and it is I to whom you succum/b. My scribbl/es are ascribed to Scribes, all of whom scrieve, for example, scriveners, a penman, and amanuensis.
~\~~\\~\\\\
Just scratching lead to papyrus.
Ambit: (n) that which bounds; a boundary; also the sphere or scope; circumference.
Amatory: designed to excite love, sexual love specifically .
Succulent: the quality of being juicy and fleshy.!
Strumpet: a prostitute.
Succum: as under a burden, yield; to die.
Succumb: to sink down.
Scrieve: to glide swiftly along; Also, to reel off, as a story.
Succubus: a class of demon who has intercourse with humans while they sleep
Scribbl/es: to write or draw hastily or carelessly; to fill or cover something with careless or worthless writings or drawled envelope; a piece of writing or a drawing that is done quickly or carelessly
•amanuensis: (n) one employed to write from dictation or to copy manuscript like a calligrapher, copyist, or scribe.
In Latin, the phrase servus a manu translates loosely as “slave with secretarial duties.” (The noun manu, meaning “hand,” gave us words such as manuscript, originally meaning a document written or typed by hand.
In the 17th century the second part of this phrase was borrowed into English to create amanuensis, a word for a person who is employed (willingly) to do the important but sometimes menial work of transcribing the words of another.
Catchling calling.
You enter, please. Come to me catchling.
I hear you in the forest, leaves skulking.
I smell you just as before.
A little sleep following a long night jolts my mind into these new, waking dimension/s.
I turn
to look at you.
And, I know that I want.
I want with wanton desires.
This kindled flame did fell me before the universe in prostration to the sensation stirring in me.
I shall know you when I see you again. I see you everywhere.
My surrender to pursue the mastery of your pleasure and discomfort.
Your stoic stillness and
those heavy shoulders.
My reserved disposition conceals me
as I see past veils, into swirling thoughts of desires to devour.
Delectable with shameful kindness.
To tell you:
I want to.
I want, too.
I too want to.
Desire wanting after waiting
demands:
be wrapped in gossamer as I
shake you loose from yourself so you can breathe deeply
before me.
I am a trenchant blade.
The kunst of a trenchant blade.
Unity does not provide
immunity, imp.
Impunity.
I am held fast, tonight, by unseen forces.
Letting letters flash before my eyes. Solitary reverie.
A silent moment un-obfuscated by the conversations of idle chatter.
I got nothing to talk to anybody about
on this Night Ride Home.
[]
An attempted review of causal factors.
A language within a language.
An odd mood becomes me these past couple of nights.
An internal bio-rhythm harkening me. But what does it signal? To what effect?
Am I being daft?
I know that which I miss, but what am I missing?
What did I miss?
Miss his hiss.
Misses Hiss.
[]
The corona is the crown of a head. Not a crown worn on a head.
Korone, garland wreath,
bursting from your skull as effulgent plumes, loops,
Plasma was found to be the fourth type of matter in the 1920’s.
Plasma derived from the ancient Greek word meaning
moldable substance.
Lightning and neon light produces plasma.
Corona is an aura of plasma
that surrounds the Sun and other stars.
[]
I am unrelenting not ceaseless. I am the yield of not yielding in strength, severity, or determination.
However, constant and unending?
Like a northern star?
Where’s that at? If you want me I’ll be in the bar.
[]
Wandering star, Venus.
The Greeks came to accept
what the Babylonians had already known.
The Status Quo and Muddy Waters.
They dedicated
To Aphrodite.
–
Vespers:
Supper
Prayers to the
Evening Star in the
West.
Roman Hesperus and Phosphorous.
.Hesperus is to Venus. :: .Phosphorus is to Eosphorus.
《》
INTERPRETATO GRÆCA :: INTERPRETATO ROMANA
“Greek/Roman translations.” Interpretations by means of Greek/Roman models.
A discourse that is a comparative methodology used to look for
equivalence/s
correspondence/s
resemblance/s
《Pliny the Elder》
NOMINA ALIA ALIIS GENTIBUS
The translatability of deities as different names to different people.
The syncretism of the Hellenistic.
《》
Die Krisis der europäischen Wissenchaften und die transzendentale Phänomenologie.
Telos: an ultimate object or aim
Entelech: realization of potential ; the supposed vital principle that guides the development and functioning of an organism or system
The sēmeion as the signal evidencing the daimonion.
A Phædo.
Top Quotes from Foucault’s Pendulum by Umberto Eco
Umberto Eco became like a new Hermann Hesse to me, over the last two years.
I have only read Foucault’s Pendulum and On Literature, but these were undertakings filled with amazing rabbit holes.
I recently reread the pages of notes I took from Foucault’s Pendulum. A very hermetic-y work, at least to my unaffiliated eyes.
Here are my favorites.
Believe there is a secret and you will feel like an initiate. It costs nothing…to live as if there were a Plan.
To dismantle the world into two saraband of anagrams.
Le monde est fait pour aboutir a un livre (faux).
Tout se tient.
Books of diabolicals must not innovate.
Yearning for mystery. Initiation is learning never to stop.
The most powerful secret is a secret without content.
Foucault’s Pendulum
Belligerent B’s
break
bread.
[tread the thread]
breadth read, dear.
red
breath. rath. dare tar he/r.
breathe bare, bear.
here
hear
her beat- tab.
hearth- the heart,
ear at the earth.
<⊙>
heat herb tea. bard art. he
bathed at
Bath.
bather: hare; bat; rat.
rate brat hate
[TARE]
Parçigal Passionately Possessed
My deer, stag,
I it is.
It is I binding you in this ecstatic existence, suspended between
the Star and the Satellite.
The sun and the moon; yet, it is you they call Janus.
I am the feminine, arched gate-way granting the descent of your
spirit into matter anew.
I do not redeem, I conduct currents.
The sea of PARChVAL is the conjunction of /K/ and /C/.
I am the sea, KC, the reason
a /z/ becomes /c/
Parzival becomes Parçigal.
Congruence creates /Ch/
Why do you think I remember my name is also /Alice/, at least sometimes?
KC becomes Ch(eth) and conjuncts to /Alice/ through a confluence of circumstances causing me to recollect that I am
A ChAlice of Ecstasy. A grail.
GRAL, deer Parzival.
moon and sun
known to gods and, simultaneously, known to k/NO/w-One.
Socratic circles unaware of one another.
Let us ignore the voyeurs gawking at love’s blazon painted on our lips
We exhibit authenticity in current, capacity, and conduction without being simple exhibitionists.
They tricked you into believing you are the monster and me a prize if pure.
Howl silly they were.
I want your masculine beauty, that prettiness you cannot see,
to come
to love
the feral beast I conceal in my hotly, howling heart.
I show her to few outside the eyes of ewe.
Come
sit beside me and show me ewers.
Let me call you a pretty thing, fellow.
This gal knows objectification as well as the absence of it. All gals do.
It becomes a bore, sweet sorrel.
They taught you the trick of objectifying
Let us trade places, like swapping clothes.
You may become the direct object of the verb I enact.
I will do the work because I want to see if it makes you squirm.
To see if it makes me squirm to do.
The embarrassment of being kindly admired.
The sensation of feeling yourself being eaten by the eyes of another.
Empty yourself so that I can see you better.
So, I can better show you yourself as my eyes see you.
My mirror may reflect the unexpected.
Do not spook, unless you must,
when you discover you are the Dove and I am the female goat.
Secret she-satyr.
Why do I think we should go on?
Because what else is there to do?
As far as I can tell, ain’t nothing else happening at all.
Shall we find something which makes us belly-laugh?
Care to cackle along with me?
Cast upon me your strange glances, my deer-man.
My irises drink them like wine intoxicating my soul.
Straddle two shores of consciousness:
with one foot in every-day
and one in ecstasy.
In a balanced imbalance.
Our wabisabi is our Tao.
Tell them that they may call us by the handles
Priapus & Pearl.
Those dummies don’t know that my mantle is reversible.
They only see the dark side, the light side; and they leap to the conclusion
it must be so below, on the underside that is hidden from view,
as it is above.
It is red where the two sides meet.
The red turns green when I see you;
although you cannot see it,
you can feel it as a sudden drop in ambient temperature.
Being bespoke, not beholden.
Not needing, choosing.
Bound in the unbinding of wearing each other’s invisible maverick’s branding.
They will know us by
howl freely
we move as ourselves.
Our brand is authenticity having no mark burned into the skin.
A silence screaming: simply see and know.
Be still for me and feel the essence of softness?
Make your hardness melt into delicious vulnerability?
I will call you /Sweet Thing/ in such moments, derelict deer.
And, I will wonder at those instants when your eyes cannot meet mine.
I will call them up to me without words.
Your eyes will go wide, then soften to
see me look upon you with such hard eyes.
This is how
my femininity penetrates you.
All this I can do while
taking care
to not stomp the little flowers growing underfoot.
These are the open secrets of our Tao.
Inner sanctum unseen by the sleepwalkers.
Methodology provoking zealous jealousy in awoken ones.
They see us and cannot remember
if love differs from devotion.
I can show you how to move mountains.
It is as simple as letting yourself hold my hand.
I hold the world for ransom when I take your face between my palms.
Unspoken psalms.
What comes next
be-comes
unspeakable.
Just like Tao cannot be apprehended through words
(only hinted at)
It can only be obtained
through direct experience.
Watch & Hear Kinky Gorillaz
Parçigal Scribbles
me
me me
me(squared)
Meme.
What about I, them, they, and y’all, y’all?
[C] Igor’s [A] FIREBIRD.
SEE.
SEES.
SEEN.
SCENE.
SEAS.
SEA.
A kind, well-placed laugh saves lives and creates
leaves.
Prevents
leaving.
So does music.
These things are integral but can
reduce to simple vibrations
(sounds like baying bays) being
transmitted for transmutation into and via the very air, all around,
ampersand surrounding us.
Just a li’l trick.
Hip.
Tricky music.
Hop then trip.
Ewer.
Vessel; cistern; bota; boat; bladder.
Graal.
Grail; medium; (too short to push it.); contain-er.
Vassal.
Serf; indentured; unlanded,
(untitled).
《Qua Knight/semi-night/All~Nite》
How/l I appear: Howl I am: How I perceive.
mended pantyhose rationed during/for war/s.
P.
nuts placed for scared stellar’s
J’s.
Knights need not be brave, strong, or superior.
Knights must care, kindly, and try.
And speak honestly.
That’s all.
K/no\W
there are covert, cunt-try k/night\s, as well.
I,
i,
your Parçigal being
one:
1:
i
I:
i:
Grating the Asphalt
An empty vessel receives anything.
The stroller held no child.
She was me.
No alien but, perhaps, a stranger.
Foreign.
I walk the block.
Stalk the running ground.
Note where cigarette butts have
been discarded.
Curious cars cruise.
Suddenly, I breathe fire.
My silver wings unfurl.
They are cold, blue steel
this sundown.
Each feather a shiny, double-edged blade.
Sparks sprinkle behind as they strike the pavement.
I ‘walk like a giant on the land.’
A girl does not see the car approaching her.
I slam the metallic feathers
hard
against the ground.
The dear freezes before being in the head-lights,
and looks over.
Wings already retracted out of sight.
I shrug and give a goofy smile.
I pass A Avenue.
I remember someone wondering if they meant
An Avenue.
I find the fourway intersection at Hemlock & Main.
But, where is
The Avenue?
In/definite articles.
Derived and integral.
I h0wl fire,
flames forth,
[Silent]
Un0bservable except to the energetic-ally
Sighted.
The sun catches my flames and explodes into a sunset.
Pink and blue sky-eyes
Make a wish.
The haze and light will
Last
A bit longer
Still.
Watch “Joe Rogan – Mathematician on Trying to Measure Consciousness” on YouTube
I fell down the rabbit hole of Roger Penrose (along with Douglas Hofstadter) during my mid-twenties. I became quite intrigued by Gödel’s sentence G (Nagel has a great book for arm chair thinkers like me).
In/completeness
In/consistency
Computational capacity.
Just watch it, ok?
Giggle.
H.I.E. HO
Works worx.
It all works.
Rocks move themselves in a small dance.
He said: they form a semi-chorus line and do the can-can; but, you can only see it from
Aeroplanes.
“You fly?”
“Well, I went to flight school.”
“What was that like?”
“Well, I visited the campus.”
I smile. You endeared yourself to me.
Dreams are always loveable.
Always.
Full frontal impresario.
Trying to hard
To get it done.
Howl I can-can
relate.
Sister Dream Frag
Just awoke from dream of walking through the woods with my sister.
She told me I cited a quote when I told her: I don’t hate what hurt me; i hate myself for hurting.
A line I thought I made up about a month ago.
Seemed common enough because I read too much but the look in her eyes made me wanna hate myself for it.
We talked again about “simulation theory” and I snapped awake wondering for the first time:
If this is a simulation, of-what is being simulated exactly?
Honest question.
Updated a couple of hours later.
I box things up.
I find this odd card.
True.
What I heard
Young man,
you predict myself to my face.
Giggle-snarl.
And also, you may be right.
But, hush and do not assume
you just keep those precocious eyes closed,
precious.
Pressingly and curiously
like a street legal switchblade,
a switchboard operation.
Useless matter does not
deserve smashing
just a quick slashing.
Diamond cutters crying with
those backseat jumpercables.
I missed the film but
I want to watch the movie.
My cellular telephone
likes to automagically
Prompt me.
It told me, after I typed /i/,
‘don’t get internet culture.’
Howl.
Didn’t you k/no/w the anxious
(ancients) taught music
And, invented time
For others?
They were just counting to eight,
Again and again, and, it
Turns out that this moves time forward
And that this everlasting, temporary
Retrograde is the forgotten remembrance.
Proof of I.D.
It is infinitely easy to identify with someone
(but not any-body?).
So you hate cool, swift breezes on hot days?
I don’t.
I leaf notes to future me.
Encryption ain’t the new
Steganographia.
They remind me to
Remember right.
Write.
This is a thread to me.
Leaves about a spine.
Fluttering
For no-one but page
turners.
WrittenCasey 