Thursday, February 23, 2017

gone fishing

On second thoughts Zie...  let’s have something to eat.

You’re kidding Merry!?

No.  Why?

I’m seeing things for the first time in my life with absolute clarity. This vast empty gulf between the two sides of reality has finally become traversable, death is no longer a factor, and you want to eat lunch?

Absolutely. Time to touch down, to get your feet back on the ground before it’s too late.

Late? For what?

Oh... nothing much.

Nothing much? Vague as ever Merry.

On the contrary. Nothing much is a precise description of what presently endangers your life.

Sorry?

Too much of no thing can dissolve irreparably your shifting bonds with real-ity Zie. A part of you has been tied down so long in 3D it craves nothing more than to dive into the deepest, furthest noughts of in-finity, but all in good time. You need to strengthen your wings before you fly too far, and find your floating feet.

My what?

Your floating feet. Another level of body in the 0=1 beyond 3D.

Er?

Here in 3D your feet walk upon the Earth – which is nothing more than a balance of probabilities, nothing more than a second, outer body in your interface with in-finity, but once you’ve loosened your bond with Earth, by rehinging your relationship to all that is, you retract your roots, your placenta stretches some and now you’re standing in a vagueness, a neither here nor thereness, a field of Is – that cannot be known thingfully unless it is gnown, gnoughtfully, unless i attunes to the field of Is and finds purchase in the zero oneness, in the g-nome portal, the gnom that is gnot, the gnom that is gnot, the gnom that is gnot, thrice g’d, un-D’d, i-me’d.

Oh dear, Merry – suddenly I feel a chill come over me – it all seems so vast, so perilous. I seem to have nowhere to rest, nowhere to call my own, nowhere to make home in your zero oneness.

Naturally – you have yet to find your floating feet. You have yet to fully retract your placenta from 3D though your roots, it is true, are now unfixed. Come, let us eat, and then there’s a pile of junk in the backyard – I’d like you to help me sort out.

Not all those rusty chains and pipes?

Precisely.

I suppose this is your way of treating my ailment – my uprootedness.

Indeed.

Well I fail to see how clearing all that rubbish away is going to help.

It already has – amazing the effect thinking about hard physical labour has on the energy field of such a person as yourself.

Oh.

Come on Zie, I’m famished.

Me too, but I need to know...

Yes?

Am i really going to have an encounter with death today?

Of course, otherwise you won’t be able to fully unhitch your placenta from Earth, to relocate it zero onely.

Zero onely – sounds like a recipe for disaster. How on Earth does one go about lassoing zero and one simultaneously?

No id-ea. But I know a man who does.

You do? I’m not sure I’m inclined to believe you Merry. It all sounds hopelessly – oh thanks – very tasty, chicken wings, roast potatoes, marinated mushrooms and pickled beetroot.

All freshly fished out of the quantum field for your benefit.

No way? This wasn’t a real chicken?

Of course it’s real - freshly fished out of in-finity. Taste it and see. You’ll find it a lot more flavoursome than most the stuff being served as food these days.

But it can’t be fake...

Who said anything about it being fake? It’s as real as anything you’ve ever tasted to date – but at the same time more than vegan – as it was neither plant nor animal.

Then what?

Fractal. It was mathematical – swimming around in a sea of variables that sometimes we refer to as numbers, until one of us hooked it.

With what? A regular fishing rod?

Yes, naturally, jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

You’re breaking up Merry.

Sorry – just fell asleep again.

Oh – I wish you wouldn’t – it’s very supsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss disquieting

There you go – you did the same.

But how does one fight this onslaught.

Fight? One doesn’t waste one’s time trying to fight the phase change. One gnows and trusts that every change of phase is a blessing, enabling one to better zero nought.

Oh dear, oh dear – to better zero nought?! It sounds so terribly vague, so hopelessly esoteric.

Yes, but now that you’re essing beautifully, you should be able to do a bit of fishing yourself – and put some flesh and matter back onto the bones of in-finity.

Oh, yes, why not!

Here, grab hold of this rod Zie.

But it’s real!

Of course it’s real – what did you imagine it was going to be – a mere notion or abstraction?

I suppose I did. But where did you get hold of such fine equipment?

I allowed my placenta to fix into a real-ity where it awaited me and then, hey presto... things are shaping up nicely. Remember, we’re constantly oscillating, vacillating, Herzing between one and zero in the tera, peta, exa and zetta bands.

Oh God – I can’t even begin to imagine such speeds.

Don’t imagine them – feel them as depths of consciousness, or different, seemingly unrelated areas of awareness. The entire universe is spread out for you to project onto, connect with and ess, in order to have a spatial representation and a physical experience of the vastness of zero time.

Oh – so what about the speed of light – isn't journeying to zero time akin to exceeding the speed of light?

Absolutely. As you approach zero time by increments you’re obviously travelling faster than the speed of light which is the boundary at which things matter – you’re travelling at the speed of night, the speed of nought, absurd though that may sound, adjusting the dial of consciousness into new dimensions – like a guitar player retuning his instrument.

Oh

Like a DJ spinning galactic disks, remixing the music of the spheres, shifting the wave band of the universe with a deft flick of the wrist, doing so intuitively, from a sense of what feels right, what produces the right kind of sound, the right groove.

Ah, so sound is the key?

Sound or beat. Don't waste your time trying to reduce it down to one or t'other. No thing, a priori, can possibly be it, explain it or define it, for what is it? Its silence, darkness or nought will always confound expectations, or your ability to express what is nought. The quantum leap is in fact when you realise the need for a phase shift, from prose to verse, like actors in a Bollywood movie who suddenly start dancing synchronously, accompanied by a huge supporting chorus. It looks insane, but when you reach the point of no return – either you leap into this inspired madness or you sink back down into a rationality that may be good at moving pieces on a chessboard, but doesn't deliver life's impossible beauty, her extravavagant variety. This is about traversing the event horizon of conscious-ness, of reconnecting with what the chug-chugging canal barge mind can neither perceive, assimilate, nor comprehend, for its medium is objective reality, a strangely disconnected thingdom of thought, in which the music is unheard, the quantum field unfelt, the mind trapped in utterly redundant calculations of what is what, repeating in a negative feedback loop of id-eas which never quite succeed, never quite arrive, never quite catch up with the livestream of real-ity. Plod, plod, plod the rational mind trudges on, refusing to accept its limitations, refusing even to accept that things, things, things fall short of conscious-ness. This is why we must change our feet for something else, why we must feel another step, another beat, a musicality as opposed to a real-ity, and then, then we can start rhythming.

Rhythming? Not sure...

Strumming, toe tapping, continuing to engage the universality of sound and space, no matter what, no matter how. Feeling what can't really be thought.

Oh.

Flying by the seat of our pants, teasing coherence out of the void, out of the total absence of form, if we hold true to 0=1 rather than taking sides, if we allow the spirit to carry us beyond what we've already established, already enthingd.

If... That's a big if, is it not. You might add: if we don't grow fearful, lazy or too attached to things in general.

True, all of which happen from time to time, but then the spirit blows into the calcified, moribund, capitalised mind I has become and rekindles the flame, the awareness of something else, something more, something not what I thinks, as the old bonds, the old real-ity, the old world starts to dissolve.

Out with the old, in with the new!

And we'd be lost except for the fact that things, no matter what frequency they are at in the continuum, are all attuned, or tuneable to the omnipresent 0=1, if we're willing to wave our conductor's baton, to beat our primal drum, to engage what seems to be cacophonous and unrecognisable noise in dialogue, an act of faith that no matter how, no matter what 0=1 – by essing, by rhythming the irreconcilable polarities, by dancing, playing, singing what otherwise cannot be expressed, cannot even be known.

So rhythming is how we can extract shades of meaning from the irresoluteness, the thinglessness of in-finity – is that what you're saying?

Correct.

As in meaning that actually matters, meaning which is instilled or breathed into word or matter, is that it?

It is. Matter is indeed derived from mere shades of meaning, as we engage the unfathomable quantum field. Now instead of talking endlessly, don’t you think it’s time you caught something yourself?

But how? I can’t just drag something out of the vacuum of space like you... I don’t know how.

Naturally. Until you’ve done it you won’t know how, which is why we’ll start with some music.

Music?

Yes, instead of twiddling the dial to get to the music you like on your radio, start with the music you like and watch as the dials spin, as 0=1 delivers you to the very same frequency you’re emitting.

Oh – it’s that easy is it?

Yes and no. Like all things – it’s a piece of cake once you know how, but well-nigh impossible when the variables are stacked up against you, presenting the gargantuan, insurmountable wall of in-finity and the mind mazed in thingful thought.

End of story – it would seem.

Unless you know a little aikido.

Aikido?

And figured out how to turn your opponent’s strength to your advantage which, strange to say, always seems to be possible.

You mean even if my adversary is in-finity I can turn its strengths to my advantage?

Yes, if you’re flexible and willing to handle this otherly.

Oh.

Which is what we’re doing when we bring death back into the equation.

Uh oh...

You see shifting frames is always going to be a near death experience for the 3D mind.

So I have to basically die in order to do so?

Yes, just without all the drama.

Right.

Actually left.

Left?

I personally feel turning left makes it a lot easier – like a plane taking off into the wind.

And what am I supposed to do? Kill myself?

Oh God no. Nothing so crude. We don’t waste our time with the physicality of death.

Then what?

The fear of death which has been the kind of nuclear powerhouse within you keeps things spinning and in alignment – our problem being that it’s a 3D, fear based alignment which prevents us from experiencing anything else.

So I have to allow Agent Smith to kill me. I have to stop playing the polarity of death game that i’ve been unwittingly caught in?

That’s about it. You, like Neo, can’t defeat Agent Smith, because he’s an anti-you. The only thing keeping him strong and the two of you locked in mortal combat is your underlying, deep-seated fear of death. It happens again and again in myth and literature – Jesus Christ, Aslan, Luke Skywalker, Harry Potter – the hero has to go through the death experience, consciously, by choice, without suicidal intent.

Sounds a pretty tall order to me.

Actually it’s not that difficult – now that you’ve learnt how to 3 – 2 – 1   0=1.

But I didn’t die when I leapt across to the other side, did I?

Yes and No.

Yes, I died, but no I didn’t do it consciously?

Excellent. To do it consciously you need to become aware – to want to become aware, I should say, of how you’re keeping things in an impossible state of opposition, of irresolvable contradiction, an unwholesome incoherency. Once you do this, once you face the mathematics of what your 3D state, your 3D being actually amounts to, you cannot help but complete the process of dying – which is a bit like rebreaking a bone that’s been incorrectly set.

You mean it’s gonna hurt like hell.

Yes and No. Actually the pleasure of feeling and relinquishing yourself back into the wholeness, the isness of be once more is, if anything, greater than the pain of snapping out of this particular construct.

Right. So what are we waiting for?

Nothing whatsoever. Just don’t forget to bring me back something tasty for dinner.

Oh come on Merry – you’ve got to be kidding? I can’t do all the above and fish around the duat for a plate of macaroni.

Who said anything about macaroni? Listen Zie, gnoming is all about multi tasking. The chief limiting factor is the id-ea, the belief that you’re one particular thing, and the sooner you let go of that notion, feel and realise that you’re an aspect, a function of in-finity, the sooner we can tuck into a juicy quantum steak and a bottle of Beaujolais.

Ok, whatever you say. Well I guess it’s goodbye then Merry. It’s er... been nice knowing you.

I disagree. It’s been anything but nice Zie, but I’ve certainly enjoyed gnowing you. Now kindly turn to your left and 3 – 2 – 1 yourself into oblivion. Hold the fishing rod in your right hand, unless you’re left handed.

You mean I actually have to carry that thing with me?

No but yes.

Patience – I will not succumb to Merry’s provocation.

Technically it’s not required, but as I’m the one sponsoring you on this journey into the abyss, it’s best to go along with my humour, which is of the fishing variety.

Oh, like the “gone fishing” sign on the shop door is it?


Yes... And Zie, I promise never to see you again, unless it’s in a version of reality where you’re returning from sub-atomisation, quantumisation, with steak, chips and Beaujolais.

Er... and I promise not to return unless you, in the new frame of reality, wherever that might be in time’s in-finity of frequency, are wearing green and playing a ukulele.

So be it. Kindly switch out the light when you exit reality.

What about you?

Me? I’ve merely been riding your carrier wave – technically speaking i’ve never been here at all.

Oh my... 3 – 2 – 1

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