Thursday, September 30, 2010


Space-time is a fabric, or at least that's what smarter people than me would have you believe, and every object in the universe rests upon it, and bends it (picture that yellow funnel thing at the science museum that you drop a coin in...or a really fat guy standing on a trampoline). And we wind up with the most misunderstood force of all, gravity. And the contention is that the more massive an object, the bigger the dip. Now follow my logic here. They say a black hole is created when a star, much more massive than our own sun, collapses post-supernova, and bends space-time so deep that even light cannot escape its gravity. What I cannot fathom is why the collapsed star is more massive that the original. I mean, they're both made of the same stuff. So why could light escape the dip before the star collapsed? Maybe I missed understanding mass in Physics I, but shouldn't both the pre- and post-star have the same mass, despite the size difference. OK, so maybe it doesn't matter that I understand it. But then they go on to theorize that the big bang sprung out of one of these dips in space-time, from nothing. How much mass can nothing have? So we are left to ponder why that dip, the very deepest dip, was there to begin with. And, of course, the answer has to be anti-gravity; some even more mysterious force causing the dip...from the other side?...from the anti-universe? Perhaps in the anti-universe, objects bend time into spikes, rather than dips. I've never been there, so I can't say for sure. Maybe there really are 248 dimensions.

And from there, an even more mysterious force grabbed a hold of imagination...and I began to think about the phrase "crossing a line" in "you crossed a line"...and I realized that as far as cognizant species go, it is not opposable thumbs that make us unique...not even our linguistic abilities. It is indeed the almost infinite number of lines we draw. When we let vicious dogs nip at the balls of naked prisoners at Abu Graib (not sure how...and don't care how to spell it), we consider that a humane form of interrogation, but once we move on to waterboarding, we've 'crossed the line' into torture. And when we converse with someone about their personal problems, that's ok, but when they ask about ours, of course, they've 'crossed a line'. And it's fine if someone loves us, but, god forbid they 'cross the line' and love someone else. We are overly enamored of drawing lines in the sand, and somewhere along the line, as our intelligence evolved, we forgot to embody the notion that there are two vast areas on either side of those lines; but, more importantly, that those vast areas are still there when our line is erased at high tide, and what once was two is now one, and it is virtually impossible to tell what belonged where, or what it was, or rather, what they were. What this all means? I have no idea, but I think it all depends on whether you live in this universe or the anti-universe, and whether you bend the fabric up or down (or in any other unperceived dimension). What it all boils down to though, is that we don't actually know anything, because there are no lines.

Which brought me right to RIGHT (insert truth if you'd rather). Right just is. It is not relative. We seem to be obsessed with creating observable differences, rather than creating, or understanding, an uninterrupted shoreline of clean, white sand. When we arbitrarily draw a line, and say this side is right, and this side is wrong, it is simply our line. But once you erase that line, you're right back standing in the middle of a vast, infinite space, bending the fabric; bending it in the four observable dimensions, and in the 244 most of us can't begin to conceive; ready for brand new bang.

So, in conclusion, your right has to be wrong too. Every time you make your child eat his peas, you are drawing a line for him, and creating a cruel and arbitrary space; an illusory space you created by bisecting his original uncondition. And now there are two of him, destined to fight as brothers are wont to do, when there was no fight in him to begin with. And now he needs to decipher what belongs to him...and what belongs to the other him.

There is no evil in the newborn child; no such thing as a bad seed. We put it there, the very moment we draw the first line. We put it there the moment we decide for him. When I was a kid, I stuck my finger in the latch of our refrigerator. Nearly electrocuted myself, and I figured out it was a bad idea all on my own. I didn't need my mother to tell me. I'm not saying it's a bad idea to instruct your children of the dangers in this world. It's a dangerous world. What I am saying is that when we draw lines for them, we create in them what never existed within, before we drew it. The very notion of original sin. Phooey, I say...piffle. Fuck your sin, and fuck your god. Fuck your heaven and hell, your good and evil, your right and wrong. I wasn't born with it and neither were you. But after all is said and done, after all the lines are drawn, we choose to create the space for them to flourish; we create the murderers, the rapists, the terrorists, the thieves, because we create in every child the space for them to exist, by simply drawing lines. Find me a straight line, naturally occurring, anywhere in the fabric of the continuum. Go ahead, I dare you. You can't...because they are no more real than gravity.

It is undoubtedly true that each of us bends the fabric...has an effect on the whole...and whether it turns out to be a spike or a dip depends entirely on the spaces we choose to create on the blank, clean curvature. It's time we learned that.

Thursday, September 23, 2010


I have decided not to look up any formal definitions of the word, but I am going to break it down. I guess you could say that I am becoming an anarchist, as I am becoming enamored of the word's usage as a 'limiter', re: governor as a limit to power, as in a race car engine. And it seems to me that this metaphor is as incongruent to current political reality, as my life is to what dreams I still hold dear. We want to be led, and we are willing to cede any and all of our personal freedom to attain that goal. As a species, our lives continue to be dominated by fear, and quite frankly, I am unsure what we are afraid of. But have no doubt, dear reader, that hidden in our blind worship of constitution and flag, is our dominant desire to be be let others keep us 'safe'. There is no other light to shine on it. Government is no longer a power limiter. It represents only access to power, and we have chosen to give that power to an elected collection of illusory liars; a coven of fabulists spinning tales of the common good, while masking their insatiable thirst.

While I am old, I was not around for the framing of the constitution, but I am fairly certain that one of the founding fathers' greatest concerns, as evidenced by those basic checks and balances, was the centralized consolidation of power in the hands of the few. Perhaps one of you might explain to me how the current cabal of absolutists is any different than the reign of King George. Is King 'Washington' really any different? Is it really any different, solely because we continue to believe that we elect the power mongers? We seem to fervently believe that each individual vote counts for something, when, in reality, we have been selling those votes for a long, long only the highest bidders.

And let us not forget that the framers wrote the constitution from the ongoing perspective that the common man is inherently untrustable. The bottom line is that we simply do not trust ourselves. I am fairly sure that there is no prerequisite for election to the federal government beyond age and citizenship. I don't think that the framers insisted that our elected officials be drawn from the very small pool of the graduates of Harvard and Yale law schools. Pretty sure a law degree is not even an essential. Truth is, the law, like government, has run away from us. I'm not any more sure than you are, that I want Joe the Plumber chairing the senate Armed Forces committee, but I am sure that I no longer want the committee to even exist. And I am certain that I want to trust Joe the Plumber; that I want to trust you; that I want to place my trust in anyone who is willing to let truth and benevolence shape their outlook and course. It is a sin against humanity that we have allowed 'politician' to become a career choice; public servant, perhaps...but c'mon. Please remember that we allowed Ted Kennedy, a man more concerned with his single malt than the common good, to reign in perpetuity.

I am not fomenting revolution. Granted, this may be only my opinion. But I do think it is time to dissolve the federal government, and eradicate all national borders, and maybe slide the constitution into the proverbial shredder. Public safety, and indeed, public welfare, was long ago extracted from the federal realm. Our welfare has always resided locally, and continues to. It is true that we deserve protection from the malevolent factions of our species, but that can be accomplished locally, without trillions of dollars in deficit spending.

OK, so this is not really a political post. It is really just me screaming at all of you; to find the faith in yourselves to stop giving it all away; to trust your next door neighbor. Stop being afraid, and rule your own world. Be your own kings and queens. Give up your pawn. Salaam aleikum.

Sunday, September 19, 2010


I can no more grasp the concept of string theory than I can grasp the concept of string cheese, but I am fairly certain that I can intuit that the space-time continuum is the one real constant in our lives. And I'm certainly not here to take on St. Augustine and the whole free will vs determinism thing, but I am here to categorically state that it is our inability to find the truth in that argument which causes nearly every iota of emotional angst we suffer through daily. So let me back up a bit and define my views on non-dual philosophies.

When I step into the quiet recesses of my mind, which I have a hard time finding, I can see the possibility that our lives only exist as we perceive them. It's that whole 'Cogito, ergo sum' thing; that if I didn't think I was then I wouldn't be, but if I'm not then how can I be thinking that I am. And god, if you add in that whole 'if a tree falls in the woods' thing, then you come to the inevitable conclusion that we have no actual idea what existing means at all. By way of example, let me state that Garrett Lisi never would have conceptualized his theory of everything if I had never started this blog. It is fairly certain that if I had not posited, in a prior post, that the universe has to be a torus, Lisi never would have found his 248 dimensions. So it seems to follow logically, that if I didn't think, then Garrett Lisi wouldn't exist either. Let me just add, by way of a disclaimer, that if Garrett Lisi didn't think, then, despite the fact that I majored in mathematics for a short time, I would be completely unaware that Lie groups even existed. So (and I am shortening the 'If A and B, then C argument), it is sufficient to conclude that the universe would not exist at all if Mr. Lisi and I both didn't think it did. Perhaps I am the self-centered narcissist that my sister-in-law proclaims me to be, but, even if I am, it should still be obvious that she wouldn't exist if I didn't think so.

My take on the non-dual nature of reality should be fairly clear to you at this point, so let me continue. There is no such thing as endings. Endings are simply our arbitrary little carets inserted in the sentences of our thoughts (ergo, our lives) to try to make sense of the fact that the space-time continuum exists beyond our control. We live in the delusion that somehow, we can control...nay, alter even...the passage of time, when in fact the passage of time is merely an illusion that we perceive. This of course is proven by the statement, and I am quoting the only famous man who's autograph I actually possess, "could you make it a CHEESE burger."

Which proves beyond all reasonable doubt, supported with rock solid logic, that Garrett should surf the big waves of Hawaii to his heart's content. It is hard enough to live in the four dimensions we currently accept, without trying to live in 248 of them, and I'm not even sure yet if I think they exist. And furthermore, it should also prove that there is no such thing as productive time. Time, like love, just is. Today I am willing to include gravity and the Higgs on my list of things that simply are. So, before I float away, into my next moment, content with everything I do no know, let me just say that writing this post was as much as I thought I might produce today, and that I am fine with what I might imagine next...I love all my multiverses.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010


Not since Burning Man was referenced on Phineas and Ferb has any discovery earthquaked me like what I saw (in my mind's eye) today.

First off, I was awakened today by a most glorious thunderstorm, perhaps a precursor to the remainder of my morning. Once I got past the sad possibility that Little Man's baseball game might get cancelled, I coffeed and smoked my way to a much happier spot.

Now, many of my three or four readers may realize that I don't necessarily view the world in any light resembling normal, but that does not in any way invalidate my viewpoint. I do that all by myself, yet despite the fact that I swim frequently in the cesspool of my conflicting thoughts and emotions, I still am often overwhelmed by my desire to share my thoughts.

(Aside: Curious to know if a person can just be 'whelmed'. I know you can be overwhelmed, and even underwhelmed, but somebody please answer this question for me. What would simply being whelmed look like?)

Back to my babbling now. As you may remember, the nun has always preached that 'love just is', and I am also an adherent of that particular philosophy, but today I would like to take it a bit further. It is my contention of the day that 'love always is'.

Yes, dear reader, I believe that you currently love however many exes you may have. Whether they cheated on you, abused you, walked out on you, or simply faded away...betrayed your trust, lied to you, gave you herpes or any other venereal disease...or whether they simply changed...or you simply seems to me that love is indestructible no matter how hard we may try to interrupt its breath.

And while I am sitting here, alternately embracing it with trying to paint a revisionist tale of what it could or could not have been, I am coming to see that our biggest mistake as humans is that we choose to believe that we can make love fit into whatever guise we choose...when really, we fit into it. We paint pictures of how it once looked...of how we once saw it...and, no matter which new colored contacts we choose to view through, the undeniable fact is that love did wrap us, and we engaged, and we cannot change that. And whether or not we choose to go back and rewrap the gift...wrap it in the grey of naivete...or the pink of innocence...or the brown of stupid...or the swirling spectral rainbow of bad timing, we insist on filing it away in the black paper of regret. We seem incapable of realizing that its original offering was delivered wrapped in the perfect, blank white of want, need, desire, passion, and yes, lust. It arrived wrapped in that perfect white, reflecting all the colors of possibility, yet it is only our insistence on staining it with only the colors we choose that taints it; that leads us toward the inevitable, undesired path of invisible absorption.

Have I gotten it right yet? Not a chance, but I am learning, slowly but surely, that love doesn't break my heart...I do...and I, for one, will continue to reject the notion that my heart is broken at all. It must be so because it continues to all the rhythms it is destined to dance in...ever.......

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Cassoulet for everyone...on me

It can be difficult being revisionist, when considering human history over the last 1.3 billion years, but this is my blog and I can do whatever I want. Having said that, let me just add that it is remarkable how little of the big picture we actually see. I'm thinking that the reason for our narrow focus is that we don't really like to dwell on past mistakes.

So, my friend from Alberta posted this excerpt from Ted's, and while I found the whole thing a little narrow in scope, it did convince me that we are actually wired to be empathic. Whoever the speaker was seemed to restrict this talent to our ability to detect distress in others, but methinks its much bigger. But I don't really want to dwell on this. I only brought it up because I found it interesting.

On a far grander scale, I want to address the subject of cooking. Around 1.3 billion years ago, after giving up the simian ridge once and for all, and having discovered that erectus worked for the spine and legs as well, we made an evolutionary departure from the norm; one that would differentiate us from all the other creatures on this earth. Yes, my fellow humans, we learned to cook what we eat. You may have noticed at some point, that we are the only species on this planet that practices this particular artform. Of course, it became far more advanced once Joseph Frigidaire invented the icebox, and despite the fact that we no longer needed salt and the other spices to mask the flavor of rancid meat, we, being creatures of habit, decided we liked all the spicy stuff, and liked washing it down with a nice cold cerveza, or perhaps a nice oaky chardonnay. Now, don't get me wrong, I am all for cooked food, especially since our metabolism and busy work schedules have long since adapted beyond any ability to process raw food. There is simply no longer enough time in our days to consume the vast quantities of raw carrots and spinach needed to maintain the energy required to scheme ponzi-lly, or macro-economize. Hell, we barely have enough time for our trips to Walmart. And god knows, we certainly don't have the time needed for the far more frequent evacuation of our bowels that raw food consumption would necessitate. No, it is obvious that we are far better than all other lifeforms on this planet, and far less likely to discard our cargo shorts and shit where we walk. Thank you, Messieurs Crapper and Charmin.

Which brings me to oil. We diverted, and continue to divert the Mississippi river so that jazz musicians and the finest of corrupt politicians have a place to live, and despite the obvious, self-created drawbacks exposed pre- and post-Katrina, we choose to think that living below sea level is a good idea. I mean, we all need a place to get a good po' boy or hoppin' john. But it does make me wonder if, given the superior geologic knowledge that our higher, empathy-killing education systems have provided us, anyone has asked the question...are all those oil deposits there for any reason except to provide for human ease and comfort. Maybe the earth has some use for a little 10W40 now and again. Maybe the tectonic plates shift a little more smoothly. Maybe the yellowstone super-volcano doesn't erupt next week. Maybe it just helps fuel the planets oven. I don't know, and even those of you who know me well, probably don't see how all these things tie together in this LSD-saturated mind of mine, but they do. And now, I'm going to wrap it all up in a nice little package for you.

It's really quite simple. Everything, if it hasn't already, is going to happen. And we are a fragile species because we refuse to see that...refuse to accept it...refuse to be subjected to the whim of it all. We are better...better I mean...we are smart enough to see the whole picture. Bon apetit!