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Topics - crow

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Interzone / My dick.
« on: February 19, 2014, 11:52:57 AM »
I just had to share this with you fine figures of men...
On a stuttering forum, some guy suddenly started talking about his penis, comparing it to his stutter.
How weird is that? He finished by asking readers how they felt about theirs, and this is what I had to say...

"Ah. Finally, an interesting subject on a stuttering forum...
I have a nice dick. Although I don't really pay much attention to it any more, nor it to me. It has a slight and graceful curve to the left, and for some obscure reason, looks suntanned, although it isn't. A nice colour. Uncircumcised, which in my view is a plus. My wife, on the other hand, adores it, and claims it has great beauty. But I'm not sure she has much to compare it to, or at least, I hope she doesn't.

It's true that stress about it can render it disappearingly small. I once was recruited to stand in for a sick male stripper, at the last moment, and being very poor, decided to do it, because I really needed that money. Which was a terrible mistake that I never was foolish enough to repeat. The damned thing almost completely disappeared. It was beyond tiny, and my embarrassment was as total as embarrassment can get.

But generally, I have been lucky. It is adequately proportioned, and to this point, has proved capable and reliable. I like it. Now it prefers to keep a low profile, and I rarely bother it, nor it me.

End of story.

Interzone / Birdbrain!
« on: February 17, 2014, 04:48:49 PM »
Have you ever opened up your computer, and removed the CPU? I have. Hundreds of times.
It is a rather small, unremarkable thing, although - as we know - what it can do when powered-up, is quite remarkable. But by itself, out of context, and un-powered, it is only so much junk.

Even when it is working as designed: speedy, efficient, cool, it has no life. It makes and breaks circuits; lets some things pass and denies access to others. It does this incredibly well, but it contains no life, no adaptability. It is, to all intents and purposes, as dead as a Dodo.

Have you ever considered how much like a brain a CPU is? A brain can calculate. Sometimes it can do this rather well. Often it can barely do it at all. But that is about all a brain can ever do. Calculate. Zeros and ones, goods and bads, blacks or whites. Switch on, switch off. A glorified buzzer. Remove it from its host and it rapidly decomposes, along with its host. 

Yet most people seem to worship the brain, as a God. It is the seat of ego. Not all that Godlike, eh?

Ego gets you by, in youth, until you acquire actual substance, via experience. The brain then comes into its own, freed from manufacturing ego, it can be very inventive and otherwise useful. But what's next? Can mankind evolve further than being an organic processor?

I say it can. Crows are a prime example of what can happen when a perfectly capable brain is left to deal with automatic processing, while something else takes over the higher aspects of being. There is currently no useful word to describe this 'something-else', because it is so rare among humans, that nobody has yet found it important enough to name. And those few who have it, see no reason to name it at all, since such people have long since discovered the comparative uselessness of words, when it comes to describing anything unusual. Or anything that operates outside of the framework of language.

This something-else is the next step in human evolution. Being, without thinking. Living without processing. Since processing places an impenetrable barrier between the living, and their lives. Such people are unable to learn, beyond simple things, and unable to experience, beyond judging whatever comes their way. Like the sound-barrier, that once confounded all attempts to penetrate it, this invisible, undetectable thing, stops anyone dead who lacks the equipment - the wherewithal - to break through.

Yet crows flap, in their noisy, ungainly way, right through this thing, without even noticing. And without anyone else noticing them do it. And how do they do this?

Not telling you!

Interzone / No God, no Satan.
« on: February 16, 2014, 02:25:59 PM »
I observed, today, over at Bruce Charlton's Miscellany (http://charltonteaching.blogspot.ca/), that there is no God any more than there is a Satan...

"...And before you start jumping up and down, what that means is...
Both are linguistic terms, created by humans, as metaphorical descriptions for Reality (the way things are), and Non-Reality (the way things are not).
Subscribing to the idea of 'God', little or no harm results, and a great deal of constructive goodness may occur.
Subscribing to 'Satan', and thereby going directly against what-is, immense disruption and damage can result."

One may move in a way that is in keeping with Reality, incidentally gaining immense potential power by channeling the vast momentum of what-is, or one may move directly counter to it, in effect building a (temporary) dam against that momentum. In the latter case, no immediate disaster may be observable, as a result, but sooner or later, that dam will burst, and then...

If I have a problem with Christianity, it is this:
Whereas it is (or rather was) soundly based upon good and valid concepts, over the ages it has morphed into such abstractedness, that its message and its reason have all but totally dissolved.

There were reasons our ancestors went to such monumental effort and expense, to build their churches and cathedrals of Christianity. Certainly, they didn't arbitrarily do it, on a whim.

Interzone / Thought #9.
« on: February 16, 2014, 10:43:31 AM »
As a sort-of random admin hereabouts, I've had the odd run-in with some of the more rabid deathmetallers.
Most of those are still here, some as who they always were, and some under new personas.
Only rarely - very rarely - does anyone commit a crime so foul that they are vanished forever.
As this thought half-formed itself, today, I had this to observe about it all...

It is the survivors who pass along their genes, and their messages.
And survivors know when to fight, and when to back off.
There's nothing wrong with fighting.
And nothing wrong with tactical retreats.

You only really lose when you obsess over winning.

Interzone / The Bitter End.
« on: February 14, 2014, 12:58:41 PM »
"The Bitter End" is a common saying in the English language, but few understand its origins.

It is a nautical term that referred, at its inception, to the end of a length of rope - or 'line' in nautical terms - having no knot, no attachment to anything, and being completely useless, merely awaiting some function being applied to it.
It is, in the hands of competent sailors, neatly whipped with 'marline', to prevent its fraying, since in the past, all lines were comprised of twisted strands, rather than being braided, as is common nowadays.

It is a clean ending, with no specific purpose, yet available for adaptation to incidental need.

I recently found myself, flat on my back in an ambulance, in overwhelming pain, being offered laughing gas by a concerned paramedic.
"I don't actually feel much like laughing, right now", I whispered. And so declined to be gassed.

Actually, beyond my indestructible sense of humour, there was method in my madness...

When my time comes, I want to be there, at the bitter end. To experience that most elusive and rare of moments, where life merges into non-life. I'd really hate to miss that.
And, no, there is no bitterness inherent in that idea.
The Bitter End refers to a completely clean, unobstructed, state of readiness for whatever comes next.

Just in case something does.

Interzone / Living Taoism.
« on: February 14, 2014, 12:05:54 PM »
I had almost forgotten about the word 'taoism'.
Because taoism - to me - is the means, and not the end.
It is Reality, laid out, for those unable to see.
But like any collection of words, it describes something, as opposed to being what it describes.

This is why so many people see taoism as something to memorize and quote back to others, for various reasons, none of which have anything to do with taoism.

Taoism is a way of being. A way of life. A context against which one may successfully live one's life.
The words themselves are only words. Meaningless noises, to those unable to connect the dots to form a comprehensive picture of how things work.

The universe works. It is an eternal system that slowly changes, coming and going, enabling everything within it to live, or not live, according to its nature. It is boundless, which is why scientists have such a hard time measuring it. It is inexplicable, which is why scientists have such a hard time explaining it.

The only thing a human needs to know is that the universe IS, and that it WORKS.
Knowing that, one must only then discover how to function within it.
This pursuit is known as 'living', and this is what taoism is about.
Taoism is a guide to living, and for taoism to have any meaning, it must be lived.

So, to anyone who questions where the taoism went, it went nowhere. It is everywhere. Always.
But one does well not to dwell on the doing.
The real magic lies in the not-doing.
Or, as taoism so mysteriously (and so accurately) puts it:
Doing not-doing.


Interzone / Sanity.
« on: February 13, 2014, 12:35:13 PM »
Sanity is:
Discovering how to fit yourself into reality.
As opposed to demanding reality fit itself into you.

Be unusual.
Be sane.
The benefits far outweigh the discomfort.

Interzone / Tell me this...
« on: January 27, 2014, 10:50:25 AM »
If everyone is equal, what possible value does anybody have?
How can anything have any value, if it is equal to everything else?
What value does money have, if everybody has it?
Is there any value to knowledge, if not having any is equally valuable?
Do you know the answer?
If you do, what value is there in your answer, when all answers are equal?

Equality once sounded good. But in practice, applied to everything, it seems to have no value at all.

Interzone / Insecurity.
« on: January 05, 2014, 11:34:29 AM »
Insecurity leads us to believe we are social creatures.
Insecure creatures lead us to believe we are supposed to be social.
Without insecurity, we have limited use for socialization.
The socialized need us to be social, so that they do not feel insecure.
Simply being social is not enough; we must then be social enough.
We are not insecure until society causes us to be.
Society, by its very nature, causes insecurity.
You can easily see the madness inherent in this.

Interzone / Does this Whale make me look good?
« on: January 04, 2014, 06:34:24 PM »
Here's an idea I had, which may - or may not - make an interesting essay for Amerika...

Years ago, when I still sailed sluggishly around, on a rotting plywood trimaran, singlehanded, I chanced to find myself running slowly downwind in The Sea of Cortez. When a pair of monstrously huge Blue Whales surfaced, one on either side of the boat, close enough that I could have walked right off the deck, and on to their backs, for a leisurely promenade.

Imagine that.

How would you feel about that?

This afternoon, I turned on the TV to discover what utterly untrue crap the weather network had to offer about the current state of winter, when I happened to see a documentary about Blue Whales.
Except it actually didn't have very much to do with whales. It had much more to do with people, doing things to whales, standing in front of whales, offering opinions about whales, and droning on about how endangered whales were, while skewering every specimen in sight with tags, radios and cameras.

It came to me that people don't actually even notice the world, or life, for what those things are. What they do with these things is see them only as a backdrop, a stage, an accessory, upon which to act-out their own pathetic little dramas and agendas.

Look at any wildlife documentary, and you will - most-likely - see a human face, jabbering on, with an example of wildlife somewhere behind that face. Yakyakyak...wildlife...yakyakyak...what I think is...yakyakyak...what you should think is...yakyakyak...so send money to...yakyakyak...and together we can make a difference...

I ranted and raved to my wife, for a while, about that, while she dutifully listened, and then I observed that, actually, although I probably sounded angry, I actually wasn't angry at all. And I actually wasn't, as much as moved to volubly relate all I now observed about the nature of humans.

You see, humans don't notice the world, for what it is. Or wildlife for what it is. Or life, for what life is.
They see only whatever it is, in terms of what it means-to/does-for THEM.

So you come to realize the whole business of 'saving the whales' or saving anything else, is really only about saving whales - or whatever it is - so the human can get to live in a world where whatever it is, still exists, so that the human, itself, can enjoy it. Or look good to others for being associated with it. Or make money from it. Or in some other way, profit.

Why do I prefer raccoons, birds, and rabbits to humans?
That's why.
That is FUCKING why!

Interzone / Only in England...
« on: December 25, 2013, 10:29:53 PM »
In the attached image, you will see things called 'catch points', which prevent a train from unsafely rejoining the mainline, from a siding, in the event of loss of control, malfunction, or stupidity.
In this particular case, this is achieved by routing the train straight into the base of a pedestrian footbridge.
People sometimes wonder how England managed to lose an empire that encompassed 26% of the planet.
This example is a good indication of how such a thing is possible.

Interzone / Meaning.
« on: December 04, 2013, 02:14:04 PM »
People often say they have no meaning in their lives.
That's a simple enough statement. It sounds harmless enough. "So what?" you may think.
So what, indeed.
What does it mean, to have no meaning in one's life?
Probably more than one might think.

I've long been puzzled by the attitude of a whole mass of the people I run into on the internet.
They don't understand what I write. They don't understand what I mean. They accuse me of speaking in meaningless riddles. And then condemn it as rubbish, and worse.

They don't understand. It conveys no meaning. This, apparently, is never considered to be a lack on the part of the one who doesn't understand. Only a lack on the part of the writer. It is up to the writer, so say these non-understanders, to explain myself sufficiently well so that they may understand. And yet I find, again and again, that no matter what I say, how well I explain it, or how many examples I give, such people remain none the wiser.

There is no meaning in their lives. Life has no meaning for them. Nothing means anything. They say these things, themselves. And yet seem unable to derive meaning from their own claims of meaninglessness.

If your life has no meaning, and if it does not provide you with meaning, then clearly it is necessary to take it upon yourself to set about discovering some, for yourself, since nobody else is either going to, or has so far been able to, provide it on your behalf.

Discovery of meaning is up to you, and to nobody else. It can not be provided, gratis, to you. If it could, it would have no meaning, and no value, as is the case with everything else that humans once had to expend a great deal of effort in order to achieve, but is now handed out, willy-nilly, for the expenditure of no effort whatsoever.
Money, food, shelter, sex, position, standing, status, worth...

Meaning is more than some esoteric, optional accessory, that you can either be bothered with, or not.
Meaning is what it says it is, so obviously, and clearly, that fewer and fewer people seem able to notice it.
Without meaning, things don't mean anything. Nothing does.


Interzone / Black Holes.
« on: December 01, 2013, 12:50:46 AM »
I watched a YouTube video today, about weird people called 'scientists', who studied back holes.
They all seemed quite mad, and in that unnerving way of left-wingers, appeared to be wearing fixed smiles, as if to make the viewer see them as benign and friendly. But looked at closely, the smiles were inappropriate to the content, and seemed to more resemble quivering grimaces of pain, or fear, than steady, stable smiles.

Fear was the big thing I noticed, because, again and again, their formulae delivered a result of infinity, and it was this that so scared them. Nothing they studied ended up behaving as they thought it should, and the goddamned universe seemed more and more like it might be dangerous. That is to say: beyond their control.

Black holes, they concluded, in that theoretical way that they have of concluding things, seemed to be impossibly massive, yet impossibly small. And that terrified them.
What they actually seemed to be after was a formula that comforted them. A theory they could feel easy with. And that seemed to be very elusive.

They seemed incapable of realizing, let alone accepting, that a black hole is as essential to the galaxy that contains it, as that galaxy is to the black hole at its heart. There is no one without the other.
And there is only one thing as powerful, as invisible, and as vanishingly small as a black hole.


A soul.

Interzone / Meditation: the dangers.
« on: November 25, 2013, 09:36:29 PM »
I was recently subjected to several chest x-rays, which elicited gasps of incredulity from those who interpret such things. Apparently, my lungs are extraordinarily long, reaching all the way down to my diaphragm, which is more than a little unusual.
The right lung, at first, was collapsed to around the size of an orange, which was far from good, although it soon resumed its oversized - or rather over-long - proportions, after a tedious and painful operation.

My past history of intense and prolonged deep-breathing, as part of do-or-die meditation, seems to have radically enlarged the organs, far beyond the reasonable. This, I can only surmise, is a rather questionable practice, since one starts out with only so much material, and like an inflated balloon, it becomes thinner and less substantial, the more it is inflated, requiring only a prick to produce disaster.

To this point, I would have wholeheartedly recommended deep meditation, to one and all, as beneficial in any number of ways. But in the light of recent experience, am more inclined to urge caution when subjecting one's lungs to long-term over-inflation, and to sustaining of that over-inflated state in pursuit of the lengthiest exhale possible.

In other words: don't try this at home. Unless you are capable of exercising restraint; something I historically have trouble with.

Now that I seem to have permanently damaged my lungs, would I do it differently, had I the opportunity to go back in time for another shot? Probably not. I rarely do anything by halves. The esoteric benefits far outweigh the damage done, if you discount death as being a bad thing.
But since nobody else is me, I deliver this caution, to advise other would-be Godlike-beings of the unexpected dangers that might lie ahead.

Live long and know little. Or burn like an arc-light, and go out like one.

Interzone / The Case Of The Mysterious Shoe.
« on: November 15, 2013, 03:36:28 PM »
I spent too many years living in London, England, but while I was there, I ran into something very mysterious...

No matter where I was, in London, there was almost always to be found, on any given street, one shoe, lying discarded on the sidewalk, or in the gutter. This continued to be the case for as long as I lived there. It mystified me. What on earth was the story behind all these odd, abandoned shoes?
Finally I chanced to discover the answer, which was not at all obvious, until it suddenly was.

Who can guess what was going on?

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