BEING HUMAN IS PROCESS
Dec. 20th, 2009
One lives with images. It might just also be that an image watches other images. That is. Initially, one responded to an actual event, let us say that someone in a moment of anger calls us a name. We respond either in kind, or not but, we are hurt by the comment. Each time we see that person, a remembering of that event occurs along with the feelings that went with it and over a period of time, all of this becomes established, fixed and making up part of our consciousness which is how classical conditioning works. The actual event vanished once it was played out. But, the feelings surrounding that being called a name respond to an image of the event....akin to constantly carrying a set of dvd's containing everything that had happened to us, initially being the past events, some of which have meaning such as our being called a name. Why is it that human beings do not want to let events, in very simple terms, come and go as is their nature. Why this 'holding on' to particular events and securing them in memory? Holding onto, making of a memory of just about everything would, to the writer's mind, appear to be an attempt at 'security' where we save pictures, things, reminders that bring up memories associated with such...reminders not only of others existence or past existence, but also of ours, we who have done the collecting, the saving. Is this natural? Of course it is, we are doing it. What if it is a mistake. We have so many ways now to record, verify our existence, that our loved ones existed. These 'means' help to reinforce the images, the memories that we have and this appears to provide a sense of security. People are not 'gone' as there they are. But in images only. Not in actuality as in a fact. We are watching images, much as we play such out in imagination. How much of what we feel as 'real life' is just an image of such? This is a serious question. One just has to look at their own life to see initially that some of what I am saying may 'ring a bell' so to speak. There is much more to this, but, I must take a break. To be continued..........
Oct. 13th, 2009
IT COULD HAVE BEEN ANYONE EXCEPT THAT IT WAS ME. LRRP DOING WHAT IT DID BEST, FINDING ITSELF VERY CLOSE TO THE CENTER OF THE HIVE. THE EAR WAS EVERYTHING. TRYING TO BE ABSORBED BY THE TREE WASN'T WORKING...BLEND..BLEND..NO WAY OUT OF THIS ONE. SEPARATED, EVERYONE FELT IT, SO JUST CLOSE ONE'S EYES AND LET THE JUNGLE TELL IT'S STORY. IT WAS A QUICK READ. SOMETHING BRUSHED THE OTHER SIDE OF THE TREE AND THIS HAND CAUGHT THE NOISE BY THE THROAT..THE THROAT GAVE BUT NOT BEFORE A KNIFE WENT INTO THE LEFT SIDE. NO NOISE, THE SAME THING HAPPENING IN A FRAGMENTED UNIFORM WAY. NO GUNFIRE, JUST GRUNTS, GROANS, RAGGED GASPS...SOMEONE HAD ME, DRAGGING THIS BLEEDING BODY THROUGH THE DEEP GRASS. A WHACK OF MORPH TO SHUT ME UP..WORK WENT ON AS I WAS BEING MOVED TO A SAFE ZONE. BIRD DROPPED DOWN..I WAS IN AND OUT, LAYING IN A HOSPITAL BEING TOLD THAT IF NOT FOR THE MEDIC FIXING ME UP ON THE RUN I WOULD BE DEAD. SEARCHED, BUT NEVER FOUND HIM. SILENT KUDOS TO THIS MAN WITH THE MEDICAL EXPERTISE TO DO HIS WORK UNDER CONDITIONS ONE WOULD NOT BELIEVE. WORRIED ABOUT LOVED ONES IN THE FIELD...TAKE SOME COMFORT WITH THE MEDICS ATTACHED TO THE UNITS. HARD CORE BRILLIANCE.
Current Music: BIRDS, SILENCE, SILENCE
Oct. 11th, 2009
HARK HARK THE DOGS DO BARK
THE BEGGARS ARE COMING TO TOWN
SOME IN RAGS AND SOME IN JAGS
AND ONE IN A VELVET GOWN
What does the above mean! Not that it must mean anything in particular, as it gives to the tongue a rather pleasant playabout and the words, each in it's own right, are rather understandable and need little explanation save for the word 'jags.' (slash or slit in an outer garment, revealing garment beneath). One almost wishes to get lost in this four line verse, and just might to the detriment of the main body slam at hand but, this what appears to be a rather simple children's rhyme, perhaps written by a child might well be something more than that and quite germaine to the 'unleashing' of what I now hold in civil abeyance.
If the writer were to take..'coming to town some in rags and some in jags'..we, of today's understanding would find this line to make complete sense to us, perhaps a little insensitive, but altogether understandable. Some have it, some do not..money that is. The writer arrives in a Jaguar and others, well, not so fortunate. Reach 'city size' and one will most likely have beggars, street people, either with hand or hat or coffee cup or, wanting to wash the window of your car. Do people come to town to do this? The first line of our verse has..'the beggars are coming to town'..mmm..I cannot see people coming into a city just to do this. A city is opportunity, as is owning this computer. 'And one in a velvet gown'..perhaps this alluding to the one who..'makes it'.. After all, this is the purpose of coming to, living in, the city is it not. To in some way make it, meaning, one would think, to be a success at something..anything..just to have..'made it.'
Well, if that is the case, then is leaving the city..'un-making it'.. as one might do to their bed, in this latter case, something has been lost..the neatness, that quality of never having been slept in. I doubt people think that their leaving a city for the countryside, is a loss. Of course, the reasoning for doing such plays a part in this..'leaving'..but on the whole, is it not just to get away from things that bother one about the city. If this be the case, if we accept this as..'the premise for'..then we may be getting closer to at least one of the meanings of our short verse.
.................................................to be continued
Current Music: SOUND OF BIRDS
Jul. 2nd, 2009
I've now got the new LiveJournal Messenger. My Windows Live ID is firstname.lastname@example.org. Sign up now and we can chat!
Nov. 30th, 2008
I puposely did not spell the word 'strangness' correctly as I am trying to get the notion of 'strange genes' in vocabulary usage. Why? Perhaps this will come out as I hurky-jerky along(and now my O.E.D. informs me that 'hurky' is not a word, but I like it as perhaps it gives a sense of awkward movement?).
Awkward fits, as that is one's feeling at this moment of writing. Strange, also will do as a word of support and maybe both words would in some instances, too many perhaps, describe the person known as me. Ah yes, the ME. In my particular case I would define such or feel such to be ......momentary coalescence of enervated cells used for a particular function. We sense this grouping as a structure, a SELF..something quite stable which we can describe. I am considered a polymath, simply a person who does many things, as a polyglot is a person who can speak a number of languages. In my situation, the person houses a number of different entities posessing attributes applicable to what is being done.One might call this Schizophrenia, but I do not hear unusual voices inside or outside the head. One can see the strangeness occurring already. I have had this site for sometime now, yet hesitate in using it, in taking part in what is offered. It is awkward. I have boxes of notebooks, journals, scraps of paper yet, this IS a much more sensible way to approach the general act of writing and allowing others to read it. I am not a luddite by any means as most certainly the computer is necessary for much of what is done. One only truly discovers this notion of self, in relationship and perhaps because of this one's particular brain/mind set-up, they have drifted into feeling that they are an entity unto themselves.(oh, those selves again!). Oh yes, no man nor woman are an island unto themselves..something one believes to be true. THE STRANGENESS OF IT ALL pretains to being in the world along with all else that exists and that which exists for varied moments of time. It is almost TOO MUCH..gorgeous yet painful and somehow never remaining the same. Sounds so very cryptic, I know. But, if anyone wishes to either plunge into this pool of possibilities or just dangle their toes, by all means please do so as this pool contains nothing that bites. Looking forward, DOWTONg
Current Music: mixed soundtracks
Aug. 30th, 2008
My father is 92 years in chronlogical time. A youngster in mind. His long term memory basically unavailable to mind but with a rich short term which equates to a long now or call it zen perhaps. He did the 'elderley' unthinkable by fracturing his hip. This will be the closest that my brother and I have come to losing a true father(in the complete sense of this word)and I would gladly trade places with him 10 times..no, more if it did not have to be HIM. Yet, it is there..I have seen the x-rays, called for a surgeon from another hospital to do the surgery, but there is no way that I can somehow perform a Daoist twirl and undo everything. The world of animate beings goes through this in one form or another and it is somewhat selfish of me to think of trying to get my father out of a situation that IS. I do not feel sad for him, not because of his longevity, but more because he appears to have lived a good life..in the sense that as he was a GOOD MAN...people gravitated towards him and he liked people, his motto being"..try and help another get through this Life in a decent fashion...", this being said after he lost his wife, his other half..a whirlwind in flesh...this was his mission with my mother who I take after. Both parents have been at home with my brother and I, and it has been a delight to have them with us. There will be more about this at a later time. Thanks. DOWTONg
Current Music: BIRDS CALLING FROM GARDEN
Mar. 25th, 2008
Descartes, the father of modern thought, I think therefore I am, may have been off base. Thinking thought is a real activity so that I could say thought thinks I am therefore Descartes is.