/* June 30, 2004 */
/* In the sound of water meeting water are the sounds of a million million tiny bells.
I have a nervous twitch in my left eye. */
I have a nervous twitch in my left eye. */
/* June 21, 2004 */
/* [[ "... and when they finally got into his room, he was gone."
"Gone?"
"Gone; his sheets flapping with the wind like surrender flags from his open ground floor window."
"Where did he go?"
"Nobody knows; his bare footprints left in the mud from where he ran barefoot across Tees Lawn vanish into the marshy ground near where the fountains play, next to the road."
"Where does the road go?"
"It stretches to the north and to the south."
"What roads connect to that road?"
"Roads that stretch to the east and to the west; roads that run to airports and to mineshafts."
"Did he leave anything behind?"
"He left everything behind."
"Did he leave anything specific behind?"
"He left a note; it was in a yellowing envelope on his desk, addressed to 'to whom it may concern, on the event of my leaving' in broken typescript."
"What did the note say?"
"It was like a will; he left his computer to Felicity, and his speakers and amplifier to Artaxerxes."
"To whom did he leave his clothes?"
"He didn't; he asked for them, and all other textile or paper posessions of his, to be burnt and for his personality to be destroyed, and for us that remembered him to watch as they burnt."
"So what did you do?"
"We had a bonfire on Tees Lawn..." ]]
(challenge/response [antiphonal] from a fictional cult) */
"Gone?"
"Gone; his sheets flapping with the wind like surrender flags from his open ground floor window."
"Where did he go?"
"Nobody knows; his bare footprints left in the mud from where he ran barefoot across Tees Lawn vanish into the marshy ground near where the fountains play, next to the road."
"Where does the road go?"
"It stretches to the north and to the south."
"What roads connect to that road?"
"Roads that stretch to the east and to the west; roads that run to airports and to mineshafts."
"Did he leave anything behind?"
"He left everything behind."
"Did he leave anything specific behind?"
"He left a note; it was in a yellowing envelope on his desk, addressed to 'to whom it may concern, on the event of my leaving' in broken typescript."
"What did the note say?"
"It was like a will; he left his computer to Felicity, and his speakers and amplifier to Artaxerxes."
"To whom did he leave his clothes?"
"He didn't; he asked for them, and all other textile or paper posessions of his, to be burnt and for his personality to be destroyed, and for us that remembered him to watch as they burnt."
"So what did you do?"
"We had a bonfire on Tees Lawn..." ]]
(challenge/response [antiphonal] from a fictional cult) */
/* June 7, 2004 */
/* Everywhere I look, now, I see a LOGOS.
I can't believe I didn't see the one in the Sacred Chao. I also can't believe I didn't see the one in my attempt to explain love. Hint: the key words/concepts to watch for are "full" or "complete" (and I suspect paradox, too, c.f 10.49 in McKirahan, and to an extent Parmenides too although it's better hidden there, I think)
In fact, every single line of philosophical or religious or ANY thought (mathematics, computer science, writing) I have pursued since I started gathering thoughts back together again has led to LOGOS, or at least my understanding of it. Which is probably erroneus. I'm often wrong.
My head is hurting and I'm probably talking shit. But somehow in running away from that, I am in all things attaining this, and this looks suspiciously "ungenerated and imperishable; whole and of a single kind and unshaken and complete", at least throughout my lifetime. */
I can't believe I didn't see the one in the Sacred Chao. I also can't believe I didn't see the one in my attempt to explain love. Hint: the key words/concepts to watch for are "full" or "complete" (and I suspect paradox, too, c.f 10.49 in McKirahan, and to an extent Parmenides too although it's better hidden there, I think)
In fact, every single line of philosophical or religious or ANY thought (mathematics, computer science, writing) I have pursued since I started gathering thoughts back together again has led to LOGOS, or at least my understanding of it. Which is probably erroneus. I'm often wrong.
My head is hurting and I'm probably talking shit. But somehow in running away from that, I am in all things attaining this, and this looks suspiciously "ungenerated and imperishable; whole and of a single kind and unshaken and complete", at least throughout my lifetime. */
/* June 6, 2004 */
/* Well, I suppose this is an improvement of a sort. Both shoulders are now aching. */
return 0;
}
