Monday, July 30, 2007

The Maze and the Matrix

Superimposed on a trompe l'oeil, a portrait of Lady Vithsquine.
Reflections of a rainbow in puddles in the street blending Escheresque
with colors of an oilslick on the water.
Chaos theory predicts the movements of crowds and weather.
No one knows how termites build their nests
to provide placement and shape so they will survive the climate.
Life is time travel to an imaginary destination that manifests more clearly
as real as we get closer to it over time...like coming upon the pyramids we saw in a photo as a boy.
I always wanted to be a fireman..now I am one... a journey through time and space
We say time passes, but what`s happening is we are passing throught it...traveling in it...no reverse gear.

In order to travel through time to get where you want to go, you have to steer around obstacles...like a car...but since one cannot stop time, one can never really arrive anywhere...it just seems that way to a three dimentional POV.. Which is why the Matrix can never be successful...it is a three dimentional paradigm...while the Maze is four dimentional and plots travel through time and space.

When the tires wear out on our car, we buy new ones. Our body wears out by traveling through time but our mind does not.
That's because the mind is four dimentional...to say the least. Our body dies and we get a new one and continue our journey through time...it's the only explanation that makes sense....why we seem to know people we meet in this life....why a kid can play Mozart....so many examples.

To move through the maze, one has to take a longer, bigger view. If you grew up in a town in Ohio and do things because "that's the way we do them here", you're stuck in a three dimentional paradigm. It's only a box. It could even be two dimentional. We say someone is shallow, lacking depth, Paris Hilton whose mind is the sum of her photographs, two dimensions. No wonder she had "psychological problems" in jail.

To move through the maze, you need a direction, a vision, of where you want to go. Some one knows they want to be an Olympic ice skater from the age of two...they train and are successful. This is an example of how to move through the maze. But that person who knew from a very young age what they wanted to do, started that journey, that movement, in the previous life, at least. It doesn't matter if you arrive at your destination in this life. That's why Buddhists say "the path is the goal." To move somewhere through time, it's important to start the journey. In future lives, the journey continues...the journey through time.

That's why the Matrix cannot succeed. Because a great order has to move through time. Since time is a maze, it is distabilizing to order. As the poet Wallace Stevens wrote: "A great order is a great disorder". A Dynasty in China could last a thousand years because time is relative...like the other three dimensions. Time was moving slower then...life was more three dimentional in character. But it was moving faster than the jurrasic era that lasted a couple of hundred millions of years.
So what was the Cambrian explosion? An anomally in the dimension of time. A right angle instead of a straight line.

Ego is a shell for the mind. Self consciousness has only been around maybe fifty thousand years...a very short time. It was perhaps necessary for mind to develop in the other three dimensions. Buddha discovered it was unnecessary...an obstacle in fact. It is an obstacle to discovering the fourth dimension...the movement through time...the path through the maze.

Time is relative...like the other dimensions. It changes in proportion to an algorithm. That's why time seems slower when
we are young...faster when we are older. Historical time follows the same pattern.

It's said that enlightened beings are able to see the past, present and future equally clearly. I feel my teacher, Chogyam Trungpa, was one such person. I would like to give two examples from my contacts with him.

Once I was iin a small room with him alone. Like all of his students, I longed to spend more time with him...so I said it: "I want to spend more time with you." He responded: "We'll make time." To me, this wasn't "Let's do lunch.", a Californian's way of saying "Fuck you." To me, this meant we were "making" time....plotting a course through the maze....planting seeds that would ripen in the future.

Another time, several students were standing around with him after a talk. People used to give him things...little presents.
Someone had given him one of those paintings from Mexico, on parchment-like paper, in day-glo colors...roosters and colored swirls. He handed it to me and said: "Bring this". It wasn't often I was invited along with his entourage, so I held onto it with a feeling of responsibility. We went to someone's house for an informal meal. When we got there, I asked him:"What do you want me to do with this?" He said: "Oh, just throw it over there."....as if it was totally unimportant. I was somewhat confused as to why he had asked me to bring it, if it was of so little importance.....but the memory stuck with me. Now I've been in Mexico a couple of years and It's been very good for my journey. You might think it's crazy, but I'm sure that was a hint that he knew I would be here.

It's also a hint as to how to travel through the maze. There's the Frost poem "The Road not Taken".There's the movie "The Butterfly Effect".The more awake, the more aware, the less we are ruled by fear and habitual patterns, the better we are able to navigate the Maze.

Bite One Off

Bite one off!
Bite one off!
I went out for some day care
I went out for a day there
Bite one off!
Bite one off!
Naked on the patio
Who knew! Who knew!
It`s new too!
Bite one off!
Bite one off!
Sun-slam shining
Streamers red and blue
Could be me! Could be you!
Bite one off!
Bite one off!
Meat dream at the open air
Little girl smile at you
Old grey toothless wrinkled mother
Smiles too!
Bite one off!
Bite one off!
Wooden man arms open
Chest a vest of wood and glue
Streamers for tears in gay facade
Flaming lips oxidize precisely in eons
You can kiss them now!
Bite one off!
Bite one off!
Dance in trance
Take a chance!
Bite one off!
Bite one off!
All been done!
All just begun!
All just for fun!
Don`t let them tell you
What to do!
Bite one off!
Bite one off!

Ice Cubes

Ice cubes
like German soldiers
came out
to dampen the morale
of the obsession.

Luckily, no one was looking.
So it came to be
that nothing happened
once again….and the ontological
kingdom evolved without regression.

Saturday, July 28, 2007

Heidegger`s Spaghetti Westerns

1. A Fistful of Realities

2. For a Few Realities More

3. The Good, the Bad, and Reality

Friday, July 27, 2007

Are We Visited by Beings from Other Planets?

Someone asked this question to my teacher, Chogyam Trungpa, a Tibetian.
His answer was: "Yes, they've been coming here for a long time". Then someone asked him:
"How do they get here?" His response was "They come in the bodies of animals."
This was in 1972.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Wishful Thinking

I`m at a cafe in Nagasaki the morning the Bomb fell.
The war`s been long and hard and we`re loosing,
but my little buisness is doing well.
Somehow, I`m sure we`ll get through all this,
and life will return to normal.
We should surrender to the barbarians before they invade,
but the leadership is so stubborn.

I`m at a bar in the World Trade Center on September 11.
I`m continuing the celebration I started last night...
what a deal! I`m only 45 and now I can retire!
I`ve got the land for the farm in Montana all picked out.
But, before that, I`m going to live it up here in New York,
the greatest city in the world.

I love my life here in Tepoztlan. I wish more Americans
could come here and learn to relax. I`m good for
a few more years...as long as the money holds out.
The Republicans can`t win the next election,
and then we`ll get out of Iraq...then the dollar
will get stronger again. The American system
always comes through in the end.

Friday, July 20, 2007

What is this?

www.youtube.com/watch?v=qns2W6CVpPw

On the Way Down

Chipper chirping in green trees
Sun shines ironically
How many times till we get it right?
Flowers not half bad
Girl in pink winks
Old man driftwood smiles
No teeth left to loose.
Beautiful lawn with occasional chairs
Kids running unencumbered…
An afternoon in Shropshire, Marsailles,
Tepoztlan…no crisis till the cigarettes run out.

It was never meant to be like this
Or any other way…it’s just one picture
In the kaleidoscope. The little victories,
Little defeats don’t amount to much…you’ll
Wake up in your next life as if nothing happened.

Enjoy another cup of tea, your temporary pleasure,
Your hour of leisure on the edge of a cliff,
This diamond on the clock of time,
This nothing before nothing after.
Sip, before the hatchet swings. Last cigarette,
Oh dear, I wonder where the next one is?
…diving to the ground.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

It`s Raining

Met a guy, 71, Vincent, gringo that's lived down here for 29 years, old jazz player, played with Buddy Rich and lots of others.
He's an old drunk but very sweet fellow...funny and likes to laugh...an example for us all. My girlfriend is in the States...I talked to her the other night, and just as we finished the rain came down harder than it ever has here...like a solid block of water. It was truely amazing. I was hanging out at Anna's tamale shop there and there were three Mexicans in the corner with fat glasses of whisky...locals...had influence. She couldn't just get rid of them, because they could cause her trouble. They were the kind of Mexicans that could kill you and not think about it. So, we were all really nice to them and they, in turn, didn't cause any trouble...just got muy borracho. As unpleasant for her as it was, it's real life. Barry wanted to have her throw them out, but I told him: "You don't get heavy with the heavies"....learned that in Chicago. They got game in heavy. You play it with them, you'd better be willing to go all they way. They left after a while...hugs all around.

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Thoughts # 5

Three Thoughts About the Infinite

We cannot see the infinite since the function of our vehicle is to limit perception so that we may see the finite.

All beings are the infinite on a holiday, trying to have a good time.

Eternal life is the dream of entropy, the nightmare of the infinite.

Saturday, July 14, 2007

A Surrealist Walks into A MacDonalds

A Surrealist walks into A MacDonalds and asks for a Big Mac. The kid behind the counters asks: "You want flies with that?"


Q: How many Surrealists does it take to screw in a light bulb?

A: A fish.

Friday, July 13, 2007

French Movie

This young trashed dude gets his foot
run over by a car and after a hospital
winds up back outside on a bench
on a bridge over a river. In the morning
he sees Juliette Binoche on the next bench
with some art a cat and one eye. After
some philosophy they get drunk and
dance in the streets and he falls in love
and after some doubt she falls in love
with him and they steal some money
and make love on the beach and after
some more philosophy he causes her
to accidentally knock the money in the
river….I walk out before the end…
I could see it coming….probably they
set fire to something and after some
philosophy she realizes he can’t stand
her cat and we’re at the station her face
pressed against the train window and
as it slowly pulls away we see him on
the platform shirtless dirty re-trashed
an empty look on his face as he gets
smaller and smaller. I’m
walking to the pizza shop past the late
night hot dog stands young lovers
embracing in the street then at Café Amor
on the balcony I see Juliette Binoche below
me walking slowly up the street alone a
patch over one eye I yell she turns looks
at me for a good minute doesn’t smile
doesn’t speak turns slowly back and
continues walking up the street.

I hate French movies.

Thursday, July 12, 2007

What is this?

http://www.fusionanomaly.net

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

From: Life #2

“!”” I know you’re not from around here….my name is Frank 2664499.
Yeah, just numbers for last names now…they justified it because
the said it reduced racial stereotyping….problem is, they pick the last few numbers as a code, like when they want to send you a little personal message….number slang, it’s called. I’m an L.P. technician…pretty evolved, stationed on Calysto, though I do my share of drives….uh…..slang for space trips between planets, star systems….that kinda stuff. Calysto sounds like calypso and that’s just what it does….it’s got a very large, very fluid core….and the surface doesn’t just have quakes, but mountain ranges form within a matter of months….so the settlements have to be anti-grav. bases. The mining is good and the views are spectacular. I go out on drives when they need an L.P. . All the ships class three and above
have to have them….so you have to do your share.

I got a call for a pinhole leak on the matter converter line….at half a mil., p.s.i., that leak could cut a man in half, like a monofilament, at forty yard. So, our work can be dangerous, but it’s not all that frequent….and molecular welding techniques have improved tenfold in the last year. Yeah, they still call us plumbers, L.P.’s.
I looked up the term in the history correlation tapes, and saw how the work and how society relates to the profession is very much the same…
I feel sympathy with those that worked at the “trade” in those old days of P.T. earth…oh, that’s Pre-Transformation, before the start of the new time cycle….(I’ll tell you in a minute)…anyway, I found a phrase on a zonecite somewhere, and I liked it, so I adapted it for today:

“Flush twice….it’s a long way to the matter converter.”



I guess you could say I’m a little obsessed about the past, particularly the time just before The Transformation, when people began to think seriously about space, (the Western technocracies, at least), those “T.V.” shows where the guy asks the computer for a
ham sandwich and it just plops down with pickle, into a hole in the wall…matter conversion. Well, the matter converters use less energy when what they use for raw materials is closer in characteristics to its product, like atomic weight and molecular structure…so, human waste, carbon based and organic, is cheap and plentiful…. the product bears no resemblance to what went in. But, I have all my steaks made out of carbon steel. That way, I get to have my own little chuckle…

I wrote the phrase on the toilet wall…graffiti is a high art form now…a mandelfad…a …kind of harmless glitch in the matrix, the interconnectedness of all worlds, that makes a certain style extremely popular over a lot of time and space….and makes the proponents of such a fad wildly popular…and rich….it’s called “getting Trump-ed” A lot of ‘em quark out….but others are able to handle it. I wasn’t trying to get discovered…art was just a hobby for me.

The toilets now are smarter than my grandparents…you sit down…and when you get up, you’re clean, dry, and perfumed…
and your vitals have been checked, seritonin and other hormonal
levels checked and adjustd so your mind is where it should be according to your blend. I have a P.H. D. in nuclear physics just to understand how the damned thing works. I have other degrees,
but the Doc. is minimum industry standards….couldn’t
happen without evolution therapy…




Occasionally, the pressure fluctuates, and I get a couple hemorrhoid calls…but not often.


I wanked through the wrong door once and there was a guy there, naked…he screamed at me: “Get out! Can’t you see I’m
evolving?!!” and slammed the door in my face.

Evolution therapy
is ok to do in your quarters, but sometimes people get to be evolution junkies, for the rush of a few extra limbs….but…not likely in my neighborhood. It’s to keep the instrument tuned, (the therapy)…the smart bit, not the manifestation….it’s supposed to be for that.

Am I going too fast?

Monday, July 9, 2007

Thoughts About Time

The Past

I thought I was over it
but I can’t stand to see my parents
They care too much
It’s suffocating

Friends that I see
Twenty years later,
What I remember,
All the emotions,
Are just ashes.

I can’t tell my mother
She didn’t give birth to me
I can’t buy into the same jokes
My brother and I laughed about
I can’t compare my lover
To old girlfriends
It’s never the same
It just gets deeper
The more I look

Is life getting simpler,
Or do I just not care?
What happened before
Has become a myth.


Present

How am I doing
So far? Everyone
Has their opinion.
Everyday has its
Hope and fear.
I have to move, and
I will have to move again soon
Chaos has potential
Wanting solidity
Something to write home about
Life for story value

I get caught up in details
And forget who I am.
When I remember,
I feel embarrassed.
Too many cigarettes
Going at once.

Which somebody am I?
Will somebody please tell me?

Future

My body is falling apart
Like an old robot
Every time my heart skips a beat,
I gasp and wonder
Is this it? It’s getting
Harder to make plans.

Inhaling the smoke of dead leaves
We understand the coming fire
That will burn somebody
Will I be ready? Nature reveals
Itself in moments of doubt

I’ve committed for another year.
That seems like a reasonable
Increment. I hope they give me
better housing.

I want more life, fucker.


Now

Hanging on a limb
I let go and find myself
A bough beneath my fingers
Slipping, bark against skin
I let go, I breathe
This is everything

He sat next to me.
A few words passed
Between us, I gave him
A cigarette, and he left.

The magnitude of a sigh,
Of pea gravel at my feet,
Of a plastic milk crate
Beneath my ass
Fading memories of
Last night’s dreams
Bad coffee and
Pending work.

Sometimes we sit together
And don’t speak.
A slight smile as if
We’ve failed.

John & Eusebio 8/28/02

Saturday, July 7, 2007

Haiku

"Do you think the snow
will ever melt?" "Always has."
the Vermont farmer.

Friday, July 6, 2007

Breakfast in the Jungle

Desayunos in the jungle,
Music from the calle wafting
Through impenetrable green.
This is my temporary paradise,
Whether I deserve it or not.
There’s always a hint of pain
in the pleasure…like the cigarette,
like the pimple on my face…
we numbly don’t get the life
we ordered. For now, though, it
ain’t bad here on the Titanic.
I can’t forget or pretend…
My youthful ideals are all used up,
Or, digested in the gut of the real world.
I haven’t given up feeling the air around me,
Appreciating the various shapes
People come in, hearing the music,
Smelling the food….the whole enchilada.
Goodness persists in phenomena, despite
The puerile ambitions of petty men.
Thank goodness I didn’t listen to authority.
My rebellion is exquisite in it’s beauty,
Relaxed in accomplishment,
Delighted with open space,
Garnished with a wry twist….
I step on my executioner’s foot with a wink,
And beg his pardon.

for Ruthie

Tell Me Something I Don’t Know

That would and wouldn’t be hard…there’s so much information out there in web-o-sphere that it’s impossible to know even much of it, yet because we know so much because of it, we think we know a lot…someone asks us what “steam punk” is, we know, for example….but what we don’t know and what the audience knows is that it has little to do with what’s going on which is, in fact, happening right outside your window. If a zen poet can show the universe in three lines describing something she sees in front of her, don’t you think the senses have a lot more to say about what you don’t know than some blogger? (oops). But the senses have to be trained, which is why that zen poet sat facing a wall in meditation for twenty years…steam punk, my ass.

my friend’s funeral this morning
burns inside me like my own death ---- Ikkyu

What you don’t or do know is this moment, this circumstance, which is totally unique like all the other snowflakes. It’s all you can know. If you know each moment from now on they call you Buddha, which is not shorthand for Encyclopedia Britannica. The point of knowledge is how it fits with what’s going on, not that it has innate meaning…only useful in synchronicity with phenomena.

Which is a long way of saying pay attention and you might learn something.

Flying High

Five miles high between Vermont and Mexico heading for six months in my corner of the world where no one knows me or cares those that have seen me have a myth about me which suits me might as well because no one really knows. People
still write make movies money love play politics but the unraveling is becoming more transparent
with each passing day unraveling of what it took to make the world this way seemingly so progressed so modern so intelligent so evolved so what. So I’m not complaining being high, in the clouds, and if the thing goes down I won’t complain, might scream on the last rollercoaster I’ll ever know I wonder am curious how it would be. Vermont was ok real in it’s out of the way way it would be nice to make a country out of it so independent odd quirky feeling thinking about it all people wanting things to be colder with more snow which is what they like there because it keeps the tourists away which they need for a while to recuperate their quaintness to suck the bucks out of pockets friendly tho not trying to exploit just pragmatic and giving lovely place vibes in fair exchange. But Mexico is where I go something there I haven’t yet seen I think I feel but maybe it’s just that I don’t know what else to do which is fine as long as the money holds out but I think there really is mystery there for me as I have seen it is for others I mean real hairstanding stuff if you’re sensitive enough not a blockhead from Palo Alto there to suck the sun in Acapulco for example if
I may be so bold which it is obviously much too late by decades to apologize for. I don’t have the merit of a long distance writer just short spurts which is why she left me a joke I just threw in there tho she never laughed at them much you can see yourself in here somewhere I know because I planned my whole life for this moment tho I never realized that till now. I could write about important things things we all know and can relate to in our lives but I’d rather the reader read between the lines which is exactly where I’m at if I may say so I did and someone told me I shouldn’t apologize but I can’t help my self because it’s sure it made a mistake in at all being but it’s too late for that now as for so many things so don’t loose any opportunity to do anything would be the lesson of these words here that happened to come out just then. The Sixties didn’t die you see it was just a Big Mistake that came before and after and once it’s all sorted out billions of years hence you’ll find your eyes seeing then tho it won’t be you to recognize that you have had them before which is where we’re all now anyway just don’t know it yet. So I’m running out of time for this trip this trip is almost over which means stop words now OK I can do that and
what else because there’s always something so I cut it off like an eternal extrusion of taffy
anywhere that’s OK.

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

Blank Eyed

Blank eyed in my den
propane stove pouring heat
against the cold, each clock tick
eloquent as I put out another
burnt out butt end of the day.

There is beauty in the clutter
of the table, the beauty of a
story dimly told. The pieces
never fit together until the end.

Awash in waves of expectation
like a landslide down time. Why
one stone lands against another
is anybody’s guess. Certainly
there is no glue to make it stick.

I need a meaning to pull this poem
to some point, to end it with a bang,
but, being human, wind up at the
beginning of another circle

Monday, July 2, 2007

Possible Lurid Headlines

BUSH “CLONE” TO RUN FOR PRESIDENT

CHENEY EXPOSED IN TRYST WITH CORPSE OF J. EDGAR HOOVER
Led Away Muttering: “Now I’ve got all the bases covered.”

PRESIDENT BUSH EXPOSED AS SOCK PUPPET

RUMSFELD NEXT PRESIDENT OF LYBIA
Moammar: “He’s like a son to me.”

BUSH DECLARES WAR ON AMERICA
Quote: “Kill them all and let Allah sort them out.”

PARIS HILTON “TELL ALL” BOOK
Book To Have Three Pages

TERRORIST ATTACK AT MCDONALDS
Child: “I was denied a happy meal.”

JOHN TISCHER TRAMPLED TO DEATH BY HERD OF SLOWLY MOVING CATTLE
Neighbors Yawn

Sunday, July 1, 2007

Two Zen Generals

A Zen General was watching the battle. He became sick at heart, watching the opposing armies killing each other.
He jumped on his horse, rode to the other army's camp, and burst into his counterpart's tent, drawing his sword and
holding it to the throat of the other Zen General. He said: "We must stop this senseless slaughter!!" The other Zen General
flicked his sword aside with his fan, saying: "A snowflake on a burning stove."