we try to represent the world, in fact capture it and believe these numbers to be true, with equidistance and decimals on into infinity that never capture just that, infinity(the exact, number represented, distance between two points); never even measure the line that we have set out to be measured by a super computer ruler. what lies between the numbers, the units? and as we turn words into logic, what lies between the words? scientism toward atheism is arrogant in that it negates the very question of how FUCKING CRAZY it is that we exist while excepting these things, ideas, paradigms that we've made up, in fact don't exist except for in our minds battle to know the world. but we've forgotten wisdom. we've forgotten love that comes in the intuitive question, maybe even a priori if i could understand that, as to how we exist, but really it isn't even a question, it's the thinking on being. forget prepositions though and the failings of language where words run up against boarders of brain expression, in fact irreligious (yet sacred, True) soul expression. the intuitive? the intuitive: is bringing it back to being. not unlike heidegger did. the pre-science thinking and experience but i won't worry here about expressing with the synchronic words of intermingling with the minds of the onlooking eyes in order to bring us back to the more originary thinking, in fact intuitive understanding (and intuitive understand of the question of being) because those words can only be spoken by the siren of the experience of that kind of higher creativity. that kind of creative connection that can be understood through that siren voice is one and only because the words are the only art form that i know that can as easily bring us back to that originary state of thinking in the pre-history of realizing the bondage of both "authorities": those of science and government; paradigms to be sure in general. neither are self-affirmed necessarily. they are functional for application which is great and.. functional, but there is no intrinsic value like the spoken word of god or higher Truth accomplished through the fortified minds of cast restricted minds and caged eyes. this! is! not! real! but of thinking is all that is left when we realize the foundations of the advancement of humanity. we must not leave this behind for dogma and scientism and patriotism. our only patriotism is to ourselves and to our fellow human beings and animals and earth. the only ethic is that derived from the breast of us, our mother earth. it is the most practical even if the economy doesn't think so. news flash: if you say yeah, we need to do this, but... then capitalism needs to be re-looked at. there is no reason that capitalism is essential. again, the fortified minds of socialized, in fact caged eyes perpetuate our customs that lead us, as a race that has stepped above the clouds and left behind the biological old regime, astray. yes, we lead ourselves astray as a human race of the end all bomb, but we can change. how? now. now you know. can you pass it on so that we can free the fortified minds of socialized lives? if so, then we are free. the will to man is right now. all you need do is prove that this is possible. (BUT, don't define your conduct but going against social conventions in general as sartre and other existentialists may have for with this we define ourselves by social conventions still. live your life and realize it with a critical, thinking eye. don't forget, and that is to say, remember.)

i might be a proponent of anarchism on the basis of what government and notions of authority do to the minds of everyday people

i'd rather just sit with a good book and a good friend and a good conversation

i find myself forcing myself to be attracted to girls that i feel i should be attracted to or forcing myself to notice the physically attractive parts about them, but the truth is that i'm rarely attracted to anyone i see. not to say that they're not beautiful because i can see how they are, but i just don't want them most of the time. they're really great people most of the time too. i just want them as friends though even if they are great people with great bodies and beautiful faces. not to say that i'm not a sexual being because i am, but it isn't something that i care about very much. i'd rather sit with someone and have them as another friend. i don't know how i'll be attracte to another person because they women that i know are great and beautiful but i just don't want them. maybe in europe i'll meet someone brilliant and too beautiful to ignore as someone that i want to spend some of my life with. maybe then i'll fall in love and feel the freedom of loving a grown up person. i don't think i would mind living in europe for a while.

like it's socially wrong: open your eyes to the beautiful eyes of beautiful people

i am friends with some really smart people with beautiful identities and ways of thinking, but i wonder if they're that different from other people that are more normal and their unspoken thoughts that are just too scared to make a connection, like someone who could never quite give you a real hug . . . seemingly for fear of making a connection or feeling ackward about making a connection, but maybe they really want to make the connection, they just feel somehow wrong about connecting with someone

the little things
the mundane
i was sitting across from joe and the weirdness of this world was going through my thought as i was swigging my beer talking with him

the world is dripping with the sweat of cowards

i've gotten ten and a half hours of sleep in the last three days

a start to some ways to think about how to interact with art and thoughts on selling and buying art. the exchange of art should be an anarchy i wonder

beauty in people like the warmth that arises in hopefullness innermost and the beauty of then and always Sincere involvement regardless of beauty apparent to us.

to wait for the value of a work of art to someday grow is mislead, primarily maybe in three ways. 1. to wait for the value, in monetary terms, of a piece of art to increase is to wait for the ends to the more important means so that the "owner" of the art can enjoy some other end outside of the enjoyment of art for its own sake as the end in itself, not as a means to an end by selling the art to purchase some other end. (but the experience of the aesthetic of the whole-Earth is an end in itself because to experience the whole-Earth is to flow with the flow of creativity of the world in experiencing the aesthetic of the whole-Earth and so way making or finding flow with the Tao of the world.) the means for which the art is ascribed value should be it's aesthetic (as symbolic and physical qualities) experience supplied by it. (but to ascribe such a value arithmetic to a piece of art as if evaluateable, and when thinking about the monetary value of art, we wonder if the value of the art can some how be understood to an ever subjective judge. and even if it is, we wonder at the site of a stack of money pile-able thus piled up and the notion of a substantively valuable piece of art and its equal valuation to the art (almost as if a metaphysical value form of the work of art, thus dissection of the whole-Earth as whole-world, wherein we cannot understand the aesthetic experience of the world or the art or Art of the world at all; or life at all for that matter). we also wonder at the notion of another piece of art exactly as valuable as another. a piece of art being "as creative" is irrelevant. a piece of art being "as valuable" in a sense makes sense in that all is equally an irreplaceable subjectivity but the irreplaceable subjectivity experience of the irreplaceable subjectivity is valuable only according to the diversity of the experience of the experiencer as irreplaceable subjectivity; and it is only the value of the irreplaceable subjectivity's experience. but what about the question of the value of currency as a means to an end? a medium for exchange with which we acquire our ends? what of the dynamic that occurs in the new mind set in American history of the currency as itself an end? what about the notion that one can work for money to buy a painting valued at a certain amount but s/he is not sufficiently self-developed or mature enough to understand the art that s/he is apparently economically mature enough to own? should economic right to art be as good as a mature person's right to a work of art because s/he might more closely interact with it in a more Sincere way? or, should art, obviously flowing in/as the world with all the freedom of the infinite possibility (thus creativity) of the present-ing moment, be allowed to flow in free interaction with every creative irreplaceable-subjectivity as the creativity of the world so creates thus the most natural artistic interaction and understanding that can take place in the world without formal and categorical divisions caused by formal metaphysics, logic, and a currency based economy in general along with a currency based purchasing system of art.) the most Sincere reason why one pays so much for a piece of art (when paying is part of that person's stage of development) is to get (but not possess itself as Sincere whole-Earth creative interaction Sincerely interplaying) the artistic high of aesthetic experience (but this experience is not understandable while attempting to be possessed.) as understood previously and to share that experience with others. to buy a painting, for example, for the purpose of waiting for it to increase in value as if stock in a stock market is to negate the Sincere aesthetic experience at it's near utmost interplay with the experiencer far along and mature in the process AND(BUT) (as the center of the sentence) to through-compose super imposed essence as capitalism (as formal definition as literal versions coming from perceived understanding) is to present the value of Art (as the creative field in general: as the whole-Earth as whole-world creativity thus (irreplaceable subjectivity) involved, so realizing aesthetic as understood previously) as a form of stock itself__ (and perhaps to be seen eventually as nothing more) (and in so doing, confusing and thus perhaps totally forgetting (so erasing the history of art and erasing art and Art as something known to be as visible to the creativity perceiving irreplaceable subjectivities) __the value of art and/or Art as aesthetic and not capitalistic now thus redefined and possibly forgotten as Sincere artistic participation in interplay and thus erasing the perceivability of the understanding of Sincere artistic participation in interplay in the world of creative flow). (is this ununity right?) 2. we cannot take for granted the necessity of the (irreplaceable subjectivities) of the whole-Earth in it's necessary process. the point at which present (present as ongoing gifting) emerged anew to its extent, it developed a dividing line between the forbearing and forth coming organic development of the world; this is the point at which the creativity of the world emerged anew and somewhat definably different. this dividing line marks the boundary between a connection with and thus realization of the flow of the world thus realizing the need to flow with the flow and thus being connected to the natural and naturally creative world. the forthcoming portion after the dividing line progressively increases in disconnection with the natural and naturally creative world. this disconnection with the natural and naturally creative (as aesthetic) world is the first official time in the known history of man that we have become disconnected in such a way. our disconnection with the natural and naturally creative world as aesthetic could be the end of our survival on this planet, not to mention the survival of other irreplaceable subjectivities. (what happens if they really are irreplaceable?)

i like, carhartt...?

philosophy is like a dangerous exploding gun for people that don't analyze enough to apply it to their life in different situations appropiately

something i thought of when i was reading the first version

I hope things work out but if it doesn't, i know that life will still be amazing in the end, though, there doesn't seem to be an end. life, a series of up endings. but, this may come down to the question of half full or half empty which i think is also a question of stubborn people and their stagnant identities and the lie of identity perpetuation that it is or the result of the effect of the experience on the perspective into the experience.. or maybe it's just the tendency of western music theory to resolve things

I hope things work out but if it doesn't, i know that life will still be amazing in the end, though, there doesn't seem to be an end. life, a series of up endings. but, this may come down to the question of half full or half empty which i think is also a question of stubborn people and their stagnant identities and the lie of identity perpetuation that it is or the result of the effect of the experience on the perspective into the experience.

when i got up this morning, it felt like the pace maker i call my heart was back firing on me, kicking me in the chest. then it stopped. i went on with my day, but first i typed this

this is the second time i write something like this: on this topic, which is okay. it's funny, no one reads this. at least i can laugh out loud about it and no one will hear me. actually, i don't even care so laughing about it is old news. i write because i do. someone's observation of it is only something else.

ps life is really good for me right now, honestly good. i'm lost sometimes, strong is what i feel sometimes too, and i know that i'm on the right path because i'm not quite sure if i am, and if i am being everything that i can be but i think i'm getting there pretty well right now which is really refreshing and sorta feels like a back massage just thinking about it. i've grown up a lot in the last couple months. i haven't made up my mind on how i feel about it yet. i'm happy that i feel less lost than i did in the old times. these are new times. i have great friends and my path isn't set but it's really good and comfortable in some ways too. my friends are what comfort me the most. i know i have really great friends. they fit me. and mary too. she helps me a lot too. i think i should help her too but i'm not sure if i'm doing that yet. she needs it though. but she's strong and she'll be okay. i guess i'm more worried about my dad. he gets lost and it gives me the feeling that it might take him a lot longer to get better/feel better. i know he's thinking about it though: mary, and us, and what's right. i guess that's all life is about. whoever reads this, if anyone reads this, i don't know what to say. i wish you could feel what i feel in my chest. i doubt you'll be able to though, it's just hard to feel what another person is really feeling. things are good though. friends are lovely. they really help, and help life light up. i've gotta be getting off to the coop to buy ingredients for our community dinner now. i hope all is well to anyone who reads this.

you don't understand the weight of these words. i'm a medicated man.

there is the nothing outside of our metaphysical realm but there can be nothing outside of our metaphysical realm because that would require something like God with intention to conjure a metaphysical hierarchy. so we find our world singular to a dimension, a meta-dimension would be of ineffable... and there is us, our worldly realm, without locality or space (or time?) relative to anything else so that we are here or there and nowhere and when looking at our world from the "outside", we are nothing.

i feel strong

you cannot see the beauty of this mind, nor can i show you its ugliness

sunken cheeks and swollen mind could never say the word... and this is not the title

it may be that the entirety of this world is the entirety of all existence, in fact, it may be that it must be. in other words, that the entirety of existence (maybe as being) is all there is to be spoken for, here or in another world... admittedly, another world cannot IbeI. and in this entirety, we trust because one realm could not existence as neighbor to another in the metaphysical basket (maybe nothing) that holds these realms of something, for these realms would rub up against each other, whose affect i cannot speculate to begin to comprehend. but, as whitehead says, there maybe many shades of green, but might there be many shades of green with respect to worldly realms (as infinitely many as shades of green)? metaphysical: indeterminate possibility leads us in every direction and none, paradox it is, to believe that other shades, other meta-orders of meta-existence could, in someway inconceivable, IbeI (though this wording for meta-orders of meta-existence is inadequate). but what if IbeingI is but order of the paradigm (that is one question), this worldly realm and it's particular knowing? (something at the level of thinking of the impact of tachyons and reverse, rather obliterated, cause and effect) maybe the question is not IbeingI in other realms. maybe question is of no relevance. a realm that does not think and is not but is still someIthingI.

words surrounded by "I I" are italicized

a hundred and thirty pounds of eloquent anarchy

all of the world is determined in all of its monism and the forgotten or never possessed choice to exist, but it is when i realize myself as myself, truly creative, that i become truly free on what might be an omni-directed path of ascendency.

I am the utmost anarchy! and i am here to shake in this locked white room that is me, this! until i breath the indeterminate screams of obliteration

"I am not nothing in the sense of emptiness, but I am the creative nothing, the nothing out of which I myself as creator create everything". - Stirner

When did i start to love Kant? It must be the heat:)

we might be heading for world war III, read the news!

the thrust of the hidden unqualified

to die and to weep are among the worst notions to be sure

a second excerpt from the art of living

Time


In the light of the indeterminacy of the primal unity in Hindu Philosophy, with all its probably absurd freedom, it seems only natural that the lasting moment be the point of lasting creativity, the point from which we view the world, the part of the part-whole. Experience thoughtfully observed and pondered tells us that the present-ing moment (gifting) is all that we have ever known, while the past is literally only memory and the future is just our estimation of what we may do or what may take place in the present moment, which we can only understand through the experience of the present moment itself. It may also be that impermanence is the only reason that temporal thought exists. To elaborate, time may well be our paradigm for signifying change. We make the mistake of believing that time itself is something existent when time could not exist without the change of impermanence. So, it makes you wonder if time exists at all? Maybe it's just change. It seems that without change, time would not only cease to exist, but it would not have ever entered thought. At this point, one has to wonder, would thought have ever come to pass when passing itself never could...

It is this boundedness to change as impermanence and the present moment (as present-ing (gifting)) that allows us and the whole-world the infinite possibility of present-ing moment. (The moment as present and never again is the door to infinite possibility because it can never be again.) This is exactly the creativity simultaneously accomplished with the same stroke of destruction, and destruction as creativity is change itself or impermanence. The happening is never duplicatable. It is from this that the world is creative, artistic itself.

an excerpt from the art of living

Lifting Away and Diarying


Whitehead wrote, "Any local agitation shakes the whole universe. The distant effects are minute, but they are there." As the being engaged in the world begins to self realize as not just the part of the part-whole but more accurately the part and the whole both in their dynamic interaction, the being begins lifting away (Heidegger) in involvement in and contemplation of the creative interplay of the creative part and the creative whole as they creatively interact. This creative interaction is one in which the whole-world (the whole of the part-whole) casts its own diary of present-ing (gifting) personality onto all subjectivities (whether the effect is large or small, it is there). Simultaneously, the interaction of the diary of present-ing (gifting) personality cast onto the whole of irreplaceable subjectivities bounces, vibrates, and shakes (with ridiculous fervor and maybe even Taoist laughter) with simultaneous present-ing of the personality of the whole as boundedness to the moment of infinite possibility, which fingerprints its identity onto all individual subjectivities to form simultaneous, creative identity in its ongoing interplay as the whole-world dynamic. The in-abiding questions of aesthetic philosophical, spiritual, and religious beauty and wonder are cast down too in the momentous birthing of the present as "the fingerprint of what nature gave us.", as expressed so poetically by Fredric Ludwig, is put down in diarying of identity and simultaneously passed away in the rubbing up against of impermanent interaction. It is in the full self realization as the whole-world, and as Miller comments on Whitehead, "the adventure of feeling, that creative flow of the rich and uncalculated expression of individuality in new forms of community.", what I would call the diary of interrelatedness that lifts us away in full rapturous, non-reflective understanding of the aesthetic whole-world in all its dawning beauty.

what do i say of the Dionysian tragedy that could've been the narrative of our life plus art passed back and forth from our hands to our hands

the history of the world and its current events is being written by the richest and most powerful. make no mistake, those traits are not exclusive but are mutually derived. we see our recent history and current events through the scope of a west culturalized and rich-powerful scribe. in other words, our scope of understanding is limited to the perspective of the powerful. we need not look too far for this. step outside of the present sphere of world awareness by stepping outside of united states of american boarders or by picking up a book on deep ecology and anyone of us will automatically understand themselves as having been bound up by his previous scope of understanding, ignorance. i know because it happened to me. we must open our eyes to what is happening right now in the world. not according to cnn or fox news, but according to the world because what was happening now twenty-five years ago commanded our immediate, radical reduction of "the scale of human enterprise" as written by ecologists Anne and Paul Ehrlich. we still haven't responded close to sufficiently. sustainable development is an oxymoron. it is as if to say that our environmental problem is not so grave that we can budget pussy footing. ignorance cannot be bliss, for if we chose ignorance, we will cease to exist. i am unsure of what will happen to our story. if we keep on this path though, we will die.

if our faith in god is being stretched to faith in country and flag, how can we go on fighting wars with a holy derived faith as our reasoning for our waring?

there's a good heart that rings true in every moment. you just have to let it ring through the bull shit.

rhetoric of a marionette mariano no longer. so long so long.

i wonder if the sound of my own breath will ever do this

sirens and ocean waves make me feel at home at night when i'm laying in bed, like when i was a little boy. it's nice.

they said they were cartographers, but they were just as lost as us

it's been too long that drill sergeant, pasture and president alike command faith, faith in God, faith in country. by his hand and that of karl rove and others, the two have been drawn together (faith in god and faith in country) with a string not yet invisible. i say, i urge, notice the kinship. those who fight our wars are those who knelt on our church floors not so long ago. they were asked but really taught to have faith, faith in God. mobilize the christian right. that was and is their plan. they've brought their mission's goal to near fruition. so we've got these boys. young guys, guys my age and younger. kids. we were just in high school not so long ago. kids, fighting this war; all the faith in all that's good in this world and the next. only now do their thoughts, not their faith though, waiver occassionally with the bearing, ugly goat of real. they mobilized it. "they"; who's "they"? don't forget because a.d.d. is no myth in this country, except for them, those boys' memories. "they" are the pictures that i can draw up in my mind. you know who it is and was. but make no mistake, there are many others to blame for the way we've reaped young men's souls struck through with pure faith. we all have too much faith and too much blame. blame is blind redemption. and faith is just blind. yes "they" are to blame, but so are we because we could've done something. "they", they must be held accountable and so must we, to hold them and ourselves up against this light of darkness: the disgrace of those that have forgotten the names. those that we sent alive to die and those that have completed our run.

A subject for a great poet would be God's boredom after the seventh day of creation.- Friedrich Nietzsche

This is the finger print of what nature gave us - mr. fred

Those who would take over the earth
And shape it to their will
Never, I notice, succeed.
The earth is like a vessel so sacred
That at the mere approach of the profane it is marred.
They reach out their fingers and it is gone. - Tao Te Ching

eve and eden. does anyone else notice the strange relationship between those names?

as grotesque eve?

as strangely morbid

as fucked up as giving birds left over breakfast eggs

me after i walked out of work. i can't tell you how amazing that felt! it was a burst of pure glee! oh what it would be to be free!

i'm on a rampage

kaitlynn, what is wrong with your blog?

we can hurl ourselves toward a future but sometimes we should step back and wait to hurl ourselves in another now - unkown

speed of silent sound

speed of silence sound

speed of silence

dead love. definitions have killed it. more too but definitions cannot be forgotten. definition kills impossibility. and for someone that cannot understand love: by refusing to let go, not being able to, not feeling it, and feeler of the world that cannot touch; an artist, a desperate artist stretching for something. i don't know if it's definition or a lack of hand for fear and grudges. the human. the human form that has been throughout history. not homo sapiens sapiens, but the human of man. climbing atop a tower on in a wash of grey, white, to hold on as if preparing for the starting beep on the first leg of a medley relay. feet poised on those giant windows, tucked under, aside breast. hands clenched tight on the railing that's intended to keep those people safe. but he is not a people in his mind rendering something more. something new. altogether new for history. he lets himself take hold of himself. he lets the redefining take hold. it no longer seems absurd (as it had been in the past of contemplation). but it is rampant, vibrant with new human life. he takes hold of himself and lets go