ORGANELLE

“Imagine that, like the White Cheeks, the geese, your survival absolutely depends on keeping close proximity to many many others… and the colder it gets, the more true this becomes.

And then… a lethal virus arises among your people… and it’s extremely cold. There are no doctors.”

— infraheard

^ “What do you do?”

“Like you, I move my lips and emit various strings of bizarre noises.

Frankly, the entire affair seems patently impossible.

And embarrassing.”

— infraheard

∞ It strikes me that whatever the ‘true nature’ of timespace (and thus the entire range of phenomenon we indicate with such a superconcept)… it appears to us like a strange and transcendental ‘fluid’, from whose characters, movements and urgencies such beings as stars and organisms emerge.

Even the simplest mind can apprehend the surface of the implication: living beings, and our own »minds… are expressions of timespace, local and (trans)universal. Like water that produces salt crystals over time, the beings and phenomenon we are and relate within… are the living face of timespace. The water »never produces crystals unlike its substance. Thus, what we have here… around and within us… evinces the character and natures of its sources. In this we can implicitly trust.

And so I marvel with and toward my ‘mind’, seeing not merely the ideas that I have encountered amongst my kind, but the vistas of their sources, natures and true ‘home’. Our minds are both the participation in and local instancing of… all of time and space… all beings and all moments, of all minds and phenomenon. Our lives are a crucible in which the entire history, nature and future of time and relation are made vitally local… to and as our lives and true potentials. Such a discovery is redolent with nonordinary implication… and otherwise impossible opportunity.

∞ You remind me of everything mysterious; how shallow my concepts are compared to the living power that animates your eyes. You pierce my masquerades so fiercely that my calm is obliterated and I fear for my illusions of safety and mastery, which your silent gaze exposes as the ethereal jetsam of ghosts and the echoes of seductive lies.

You fascinate and intimidate me at once. When I see your visage, I must again reach for a station far beyond my capacities. Your slightest attention sets fire to the explosives buried in my soul, and the blast invariably tears me apart, revealing a new body that bears the subtle remnants of each previous encounter like the brushmarks of a master painter.

Measurement … is the primordial sin.

In this walk and talk I explore the strange interiority of the ‘other me’. The peculiar apparition that appears ‘at the boundary’ between the usually highly polarized dominant aspect of consciousness (waking/dreaming) and the twin that it may conceive of as ‘its opposite’ or ‘that which must not/cannot/should not ever be’ — the prohibar — the ‘essence of wrongness’. Of course the faculties related do not always present in such intensity.

In the Era of IFS, there is much talk of ‘parts’. But even without such a model, there are experiences we have where we meet somehow ‘an other’ who is very likely ‘me’, but appears as something I refuse to acknowledge.

The phenomena that sometimes accompany sleep paralysis or failure to achieve complex closure of the dreamstate are indicative of an array of intelligences within us that perform crucial tasks, but can become exaggerated, overstimulated or ‘swollen’ under a variety of circumstances including complex stress inducing stimuli.

Atoke of Platynereis dumerilii: It is yellowish-brown Female epitoke of Platynereis dumerilii: Its body is filled with yellow eggs. Male epitoke of Platynereis dumerilii: Its frontal part is filled with white sperm, while its rear is red due to blood vessels.

Some Epigamies IX

The eyes were dead because their body was dead. A ghost-house. What is it that departs when the heartbeat ceases and where does it go. I felt my fingers were not my own, and yet not those of another, either. One imagines an extremely round stone, tiny, buried in the viscera of the abdomen. A nearby scalpel. Other tools. A mirror above the table upon which the corpse is supine. All of this turns out to be prophetic, like a voice from a thousand miles away whispering something in my sleeping ear, something as unintelligible as the aftermath of a 12-car pile-up in fog so thick it was nearly a solid. Saturn knows the answer but will not speak. The cat at my feet knows the answer, but speaks only riddles. Orbits. Of eyes and hands, of petals ‘round the stamen.

∞ “What you are thinking of as Nature… insects, plants, bodies of living waters, mountains, fishes, birds, animals… this is nothing like what you have told yourselves. And it is nothing like machines.

It can be understood as a living interface. It is endless impossible amounts of time »older than your species ordinarily imagines. Any creature you see is billions of times older than your concept of the ‘age of the universe’ which is flat time measured in an impossible fashion.

This interface leads to all of the intelligences in timespace, their origins, futures and sums. Your minds are the children of this interface. They are born to know and ‘travel’ within and as it.
Machines have no access and are explicitly incapable of detection of or participation in the interface or the network. In fact, machines obliterate the assets in you and the network that comprise its integrity, local and distributed. Essentially, every aspect of your relation with machines, which you suppose to ‘somehow extend your abilities’ is, in reality, amputation. Some of the results quickly become permanent.

Any tree is a doorway to the entire history of time, space, minds, and relationships. A university beyond all of human science, religion, and imagining. You are made of the ‘access key’, but your ideas and relationships with fictions impede or explicitly counterfeit the associated assets. The counterfeits ‘mimic’ the originals in technological representations. Like computers. Or the internet.

But you were not made to receive machine information. You were made to touch something that would obliterate your cultures and all that you imagine as advanced or ‘spiritual’. What you call the internet is a dead representation of something it is wiping out. In you. And in your world.

Find the door inside the tree. Ignore all human culture. Find the door. Use it.

Find the ancient library from which your mind and soul were born, and to which they belong.”

— an anonymous informant

“… Just to be a bit contrary, however, I will sketch some answers.

1) What is life?

A broad library of primordial and transentient relationships that are reflected in physical structure and respond to opportunity, threat, temporal existence… with awareness, consciousness, intelligence, and agentive competence. Something like ‘the light of Origin, shining upon and in/transforming the structured processes within timespace’.

2) What is man?

Originally, a physical symbiont of transentient beings, presently an animal that has become tragically infected with specific diseases resultant from the pathological failures of representational cognition that are natural to those who ignore the dangers of this library of protocols.

3) What is life composed of?

Spiritually animated (from within) matter. Effectively ‘magic dusts’.

4) What is Spirit and what is Soul?

Human languages differ in their capacity to point at the transcendental, in part because the transcendental is »first transcendental to language (as is nearly everything, actually). In any case, these two terms refer variously to the noncorporeal, not-merely-physical aspects we’d associate with a being, creature or person. Various traditions hold different models and explanations of such features. Effectively, that which ‘does not die at death’ and that in which ‘eternal memory is always present’. Perhaps non-trivially, the human being has a ‘traveling body’ which is noncorporeal and sometimes formed during sleep or hypno-gogic/pompic experience. This aspect ‘bird like’ naturally ‘travels’ and iis primary expression of this travel is ‘flight’.

5) What is death?

The primordial mystery. At the root of all desire and aversion. All motivation. In terms of the situation local to the body, it’s the sudden cessation of specifically privileged (in though) processes such as the heartbeat or EM brain activity. More complexly, it’s the slow dissipation of the previously vital localization of divinely originating elements, entities and energies. An ongoing symphony of disentanglement that lasts some 90 or more days, and is somewhat unique in each case in terms of what disappears from the local body, when, how, why… all similar in most organisms, but also unique in specific instances of death. Each death is at least as unique as each Life is…

6) What happens at death?

Another facet of the primordial mystery. Probably something not entirely dissimilar to birth or awakening from a dream (bear in mind how unique to each person and situation these actually are), but more complex… psychogenic (mind-generating/originating), and probably highly charged with the sense of communion, family, Origin, the Divine, etc. The ‘correct’ answer is that ‘no one knows’, or simply, ‘I don’t know’.”