You mean the state things are in?
You presume.
Sorry, I...
You presume that’s what i mean, do you not? By all means a reasonable and er... rational assumption.
But in actual fact it’s not that at all, is it?
Correct.
Wrong again. So much for reasonable and rational assumptions.
Yes well, no one’s perfect, are they? I myself am peculiarly susceptible to draughts.
Hey, that’s Oscar Wilde, the Importance of being Earnest, if I’m not mistaken.
Spot on Zie.
So if being reasonable and rational fails time and again whenever you lob me an idea, why is my mind so hell-bent on applying this methodology.
Training, I expect. The mind is a wonderful machine, just as long as you recognise its algorithms and are not bound by them.
Machine? Surely not?
Programmed to run on autopilot until you become aware of how it’s operating and what it’s designed to produce. Look, there’s no need to hate, fear or despise what is a phenomenal tool and assistant. The mind can do literally anything.
Then what’s the problem.
No problem at all, unless you’re intent on assuming “any thing” is more than a tiny fraction of your real potential.
Er...
The rational mind, as we’ve discussed already many a time, does things. Everything else, what we’re loath to define and thus refer to vaguely as “other” the rational mind cannot handle, without thinging – reducing to a flat binary or digital format, if that makes any sense.
Er, not exactly.
Well, take your response to my opening remark about the state of things – you naturally put the horse before the cart.
And you wouldn’t?
Not unless it was appropriate to thinG.
So you’d do the opposite, placing the cart before the horse, just to be contrarian?
That i would not. The opposite is merely a mirror reversal, thus, fundamentally no different.
Fire and ice no different...? curious position.
They only become different in the state of things because you are the y-axis separating them, with “a” on one side of you and “b” on t’other. Until you elect to axify or flatify yourself they are merely rotating in a common, undefined state of awareness, or you might say floating in a quantum state of indeterminacy.
If you say so. Look, this is all interesting I’m sure for mathematicians or quantum technicians, but i fail to see what it’s got to do with me and my simple life.
Excellent. We’ve come to the rub, have we not...
?
The state of things.
If you’re trying to invoke deja vu I’m afraid to say you failed. Just a mild sense of annoyance at needless repetition. This rhetorical device falls flat.
Ok, deep breath, a little hurt i may be by your blunt frankness...
Oh come on Merry, pull the other one.
Perfect, i now have your permission.
What?!
To pull the other one. Protocol. Couldn’t proceed without it.
But, i meant...
No matter. You gave it. So let us proceed. The State of things...
With a capital S. Is that essential?
Well observed. Let’s assume that yes, it is. We are talking about a State no less legally constituted or encompassing than the State of nations and citizens which you elect to establish upon the State of things no less, the base. They’re fractally interwoven.
So presumably we're all members of this State and perchance benefit from it in some way, is that what you're saying?
Yes, as long as we continue thinging, as long as we give power to things, and work for the State.
And if we quit thinging?
Then the State of things no longer values or defines you.
What State replaces it?
That’s just it, isn’t it...
It is? In what way?
It ain’t a horse and cart show.
No?
No.
Then what?
There’s no saying, literally, because the fractology starts going off the charts...
While the thingology takes a precipitous nose dive?
Absolutely.
So, what’s the story?
Same difference. Stories, great up to a point, are themselves things which polarise the narrative, taking sides and encouraging a linear, outcome-based way of thinking.
So, you’d want to do away with them altogether as obsolete? Not sure I like the idea of that.
Naturally. Stories are, without a doubt, great. Why would anyone want to do away with them?
Then what?
We’re talking other, aren’t we, rather than opposing opposites.
Well, i fail to see...
It’s a state of being able to hold or entertain multiple versions, or unstates of thing, rather than having to reject or do away with any particular thing. It’s about allowing things to come back into, fold back into a oneness, isness, state of being
Being nebulous and vague, isn't that it?
Being aware, no matter x
But surely things have to matter, otherwise our reality might just implode.
Let it, if you value it, for only by allowing it to collapse can you tell what is real, what is not, what matters, what don't
But surely your State of things is just another way of describing reality, and itself is integral to making reality real.
You’d think so, wouldn’t you, but no, apparently not, in fact the opposite. Reality is only truly real to the extent you're able to experience moment momentously, if you'll excuse the tautology. The State of things, on the other hand, is like a snapshot of reality: a slick version that smoothes, homogenises, rationalises that experience with deeply embedded awareness and attention filters, so you fail to notice the difference. It excludes anything which cannot be rationalised, which brings into question the State of things itself. It holds the mind in a waking-dream state, and acting as intermediary is able to use your own bandwidth to access reality, then feeds you the sanitised, digitised version frame by frame, with a slight inbuilt delay, taking payment for doing so from your surplus, underutilised bandwidth capacity. It draws time down upon itself like a coil winding tighter and tighter, for your State-of-things me is rooted in a thingness, thus only able to partially regenerate through sleep. The State of things is a wonderful place for "me" to experience the limited nature of things until, unless I'm ready to i, to unincorporate, to take everything I've learnt for a real spin.
Er... I'm not sure I
Let me try another tack: we're forever trying to explain things based on what's already happened, the latest set of definitions, failing to recognise the fallacy of things as a proxy for experiencing is, the unadulterated beingness. The more we rely on things the more the curve of moment twists, kinks, or splits away, the more we find ourselves on a hyperinflational path of thingitude, concocting ever denser or steeper gradients of thing in order to shore up the increasingly fragile, wobbly edifice we find ourselves clutching onto, while our link with moment grows ever more tenuous.
Er...
Moment itself cannot ever be caught - being a movement rather than thing, but that doesn't stop us trying, again and again. Matched, harmonised, rhymed it can be, interacted with without quite knowing how, for moment is, in fact, where we rub shoulders, or noses perhaps, with infinity, the big I - incalculable, indeterminable, irrepressible, incorrigible, insouciant, at times irascible or clownishly irreverent.
How much do I reveal? Practically zero, which is precisely how much infinity ever reveals to the daft wombat that attempts to chisel away at its big, royal i-ness. You have been warned. Frontal assault doomed be to ignominious failure. Creative, paradigm-busting Trojan horsing around, on the other hand, if inspired by a love of life, and by a healthy scepticism towards things in general, not least mortality, may yield a treasure trove of what-the-x is that, which may turn out to be the missing piece in a long forgotten, hitherto unsolvable puzzle, or the first sequence of moves in a new relationship with the music of mind-y-ness...
untimely
L
untime
E
un-tie-me
x to the power of 3
aversedly
.
hogglesnave
thus...
supposing the capitalised I denoting "me" is, in fact, tantamount to a surreptitious substitution: that we actually decided, to all intents and purposes, to treat ourself as infinity, albeit incorporated in a State of things: we crowned ourself God-apex-capital Me-ness. Wouldn't that be astonishing?
I... er, why would we go to such absurd lengths to capture and conceal big-I?
Don't you see?
Er... not exactly.
With big-I safely packaged into the capitalised I-is-me switcherooney, hidden in plain sight where no one's even vaguely looking for it, you're free to proceed as if things are face-value instruments, and infinity, a complete non-issue.
And?
No one really questions anything fundamentally, because every time they do so they are referred back to capital I as-in me, a right-royal, smug self-satisfied pompous-twit that cannot help assuming that it is indeed truly exceptional, little suspecting that the I being invoked is, in fact, none other than the big-I of infinity...
And?
Well, who wants to admit they're delusional? That they've agreed to pretend to play the part of great, almighty "I", knocking infinity from its perch, leaving a bare-faced, butt-naked imposter in its place, which just happens to be me?
Er... like no one.
To admit the above, to recognise the fraudulent substitution we tacitly agreed to play along with, we would have to start by recognising the strange case of the missing I, without whom...
Whom? You mean infinity is a person?
More than a person - it cannot be less than all, including being, can it, if we are to avoid repeating the mistake of making infinity less than us. The issue is not what infinity is, but how we managed to remove it from the public record, to scrub it from general awareness, and whether this act of lèse-majesté is reversible? For without the restitution of big-I nothing in reality can or will make sense, without huge distortion and mental manipulation. "I", the usurper seem incapable of even recognising the absurdity of our I-denuded scheme of things, still less my infamy for aiding and abetting the above.
Yes?
More likely I is, presumably, blissfully unaware of the switcheroo, blissfully ignorant of what I, unwittingly, am grammar-logically claiming to be, and in all likelihood purposely designed not to see what is literally hidden in plain sight, what is unmistakable and unmissable to the dotted i, to the i which accepts and acknowledges the limited nature of personhood and the power behind things.
Er...
Precisely. No one has a clue, so when our awareness or suspicions rise into view, and we experience a panic attack or a deep sense of "something indefinable definitely ain't right", it's taken to be a mild form of paranoia which we automatically do our best to overlook and suppress, rather than questioning whether there's a deeper conspiracy involving manipulation of who or what I is or i am. It's easy enough once a single deep pain-trauma has been inserted, which i goes to great lengths to avoid revisiting, thus keeping consciousness trapped in a virtual loop, effectively cutting off access to the universal mind of Infinity.
The what?
Well, believe it or not your rational mind, which only exists in the first place as a sleepy backwater of the infinity Mind, with certain filters applied, deals with things in a kind of causational mobius loop, constantly looking for factors which got us where we are on this paradoxically two-sided one-sided strip of reality, little suspecting that those filters are provisional on the perfectly rational yet utterly erroneous assumption that "I" refers to me, rather than the strangely unrepresented big-I of infinity.
You mean to say we actually have access to the Mind of Infinity? That's like - insane, like having direct access to all the world's computing power... Hard to believe in fact. Very hard.
Well yes, until you give it half a moment's thought and consider how a few billion amoeba cells, loosely speaking, could actually give you the kind of full on mind-awareness experience you typically take for granted, in an utterly casual way.
Oh yeah, now you put it like that it's kinda obvious really. Strange I never saw it before.
Such is the power of truly inspired conspiracy (88) to establish an all encompassing, utterly convincing State of things, which only falls by the wayside and becomes laughably shallow and absurd as and when i realises it isn't I, that in fact the substitution game was a masterstroke of economy and effectiveness, playing on the natural propensity of any mind to assume alpha-male I-ness if deprived of inputs from the unfractured, unfragmented allness which we still be part of.
Still?
Just as soon as we're willing to confront that stumbling block.
The trauma?
What else?
But...
Actually it's not ever going to hurt more than living in a barren, essentially meaningless State of things, in fact, the pain we're terrified of revisiting is like that of childbirth - it becomes a blissful ecstasy just as soon as
I is willing to embrace I-ness?
Precisely.
Tally ho!
0=1
You presume.
Sorry, I...
You presume that’s what i mean, do you not? By all means a reasonable and er... rational assumption.
But in actual fact it’s not that at all, is it?
Correct.
Wrong again. So much for reasonable and rational assumptions.
Yes well, no one’s perfect, are they? I myself am peculiarly susceptible to draughts.
Hey, that’s Oscar Wilde, the Importance of being Earnest, if I’m not mistaken.
Spot on Zie.
So if being reasonable and rational fails time and again whenever you lob me an idea, why is my mind so hell-bent on applying this methodology.
Training, I expect. The mind is a wonderful machine, just as long as you recognise its algorithms and are not bound by them.
Machine? Surely not?
Programmed to run on autopilot until you become aware of how it’s operating and what it’s designed to produce. Look, there’s no need to hate, fear or despise what is a phenomenal tool and assistant. The mind can do literally anything.
Then what’s the problem.
No problem at all, unless you’re intent on assuming “any thing” is more than a tiny fraction of your real potential.
Er...
The rational mind, as we’ve discussed already many a time, does things. Everything else, what we’re loath to define and thus refer to vaguely as “other” the rational mind cannot handle, without thinging – reducing to a flat binary or digital format, if that makes any sense.
Er, not exactly.
Well, take your response to my opening remark about the state of things – you naturally put the horse before the cart.
And you wouldn’t?
Not unless it was appropriate to thinG.
So you’d do the opposite, placing the cart before the horse, just to be contrarian?
That i would not. The opposite is merely a mirror reversal, thus, fundamentally no different.
Fire and ice no different...? curious position.
They only become different in the state of things because you are the y-axis separating them, with “a” on one side of you and “b” on t’other. Until you elect to axify or flatify yourself they are merely rotating in a common, undefined state of awareness, or you might say floating in a quantum state of indeterminacy.
If you say so. Look, this is all interesting I’m sure for mathematicians or quantum technicians, but i fail to see what it’s got to do with me and my simple life.
Excellent. We’ve come to the rub, have we not...
?
The state of things.
If you’re trying to invoke deja vu I’m afraid to say you failed. Just a mild sense of annoyance at needless repetition. This rhetorical device falls flat.
Ok, deep breath, a little hurt i may be by your blunt frankness...
Oh come on Merry, pull the other one.
Perfect, i now have your permission.
What?!
To pull the other one. Protocol. Couldn’t proceed without it.
But, i meant...
No matter. You gave it. So let us proceed. The State of things...
With a capital S. Is that essential?
Well observed. Let’s assume that yes, it is. We are talking about a State no less legally constituted or encompassing than the State of nations and citizens which you elect to establish upon the State of things no less, the base. They’re fractally interwoven.
So presumably we're all members of this State and perchance benefit from it in some way, is that what you're saying?
Yes, as long as we continue thinging, as long as we give power to things, and work for the State.
And if we quit thinging?
Then the State of things no longer values or defines you.
What State replaces it?
That’s just it, isn’t it...
It is? In what way?
It ain’t a horse and cart show.
No?
No.
Then what?
There’s no saying, literally, because the fractology starts going off the charts...
While the thingology takes a precipitous nose dive?
Absolutely.
So, what’s the story?
Same difference. Stories, great up to a point, are themselves things which polarise the narrative, taking sides and encouraging a linear, outcome-based way of thinking.
So, you’d want to do away with them altogether as obsolete? Not sure I like the idea of that.
Naturally. Stories are, without a doubt, great. Why would anyone want to do away with them?
Then what?
We’re talking other, aren’t we, rather than opposing opposites.
Well, i fail to see...
It’s a state of being able to hold or entertain multiple versions, or unstates of thing, rather than having to reject or do away with any particular thing. It’s about allowing things to come back into, fold back into a oneness, isness, state of being
Being nebulous and vague, isn't that it?
Being aware, no matter x
But surely things have to matter, otherwise our reality might just implode.
Let it, if you value it, for only by allowing it to collapse can you tell what is real, what is not, what matters, what don't
But surely your State of things is just another way of describing reality, and itself is integral to making reality real.
You’d think so, wouldn’t you, but no, apparently not, in fact the opposite. Reality is only truly real to the extent you're able to experience moment momentously, if you'll excuse the tautology. The State of things, on the other hand, is like a snapshot of reality: a slick version that smoothes, homogenises, rationalises that experience with deeply embedded awareness and attention filters, so you fail to notice the difference. It excludes anything which cannot be rationalised, which brings into question the State of things itself. It holds the mind in a waking-dream state, and acting as intermediary is able to use your own bandwidth to access reality, then feeds you the sanitised, digitised version frame by frame, with a slight inbuilt delay, taking payment for doing so from your surplus, underutilised bandwidth capacity. It draws time down upon itself like a coil winding tighter and tighter, for your State-of-things me is rooted in a thingness, thus only able to partially regenerate through sleep. The State of things is a wonderful place for "me" to experience the limited nature of things until, unless I'm ready to i, to unincorporate, to take everything I've learnt for a real spin.
Er... I'm not sure I
Let me try another tack: we're forever trying to explain things based on what's already happened, the latest set of definitions, failing to recognise the fallacy of things as a proxy for experiencing is, the unadulterated beingness. The more we rely on things the more the curve of moment twists, kinks, or splits away, the more we find ourselves on a hyperinflational path of thingitude, concocting ever denser or steeper gradients of thing in order to shore up the increasingly fragile, wobbly edifice we find ourselves clutching onto, while our link with moment grows ever more tenuous.
Er...
Moment itself cannot ever be caught - being a movement rather than thing, but that doesn't stop us trying, again and again. Matched, harmonised, rhymed it can be, interacted with without quite knowing how, for moment is, in fact, where we rub shoulders, or noses perhaps, with infinity, the big I - incalculable, indeterminable, irrepressible, incorrigible, insouciant, at times irascible or clownishly irreverent.
How much do I reveal? Practically zero, which is precisely how much infinity ever reveals to the daft wombat that attempts to chisel away at its big, royal i-ness. You have been warned. Frontal assault doomed be to ignominious failure. Creative, paradigm-busting Trojan horsing around, on the other hand, if inspired by a love of life, and by a healthy scepticism towards things in general, not least mortality, may yield a treasure trove of what-the-x is that, which may turn out to be the missing piece in a long forgotten, hitherto unsolvable puzzle, or the first sequence of moves in a new relationship with the music of mind-y-ness...
untimely
L
untime
E
un-tie-me
x to the power of 3
aversedly
.
hogglesnave
thus...
supposing the capitalised I denoting "me" is, in fact, tantamount to a surreptitious substitution: that we actually decided, to all intents and purposes, to treat ourself as infinity, albeit incorporated in a State of things: we crowned ourself God-apex-capital Me-ness. Wouldn't that be astonishing?
I... er, why would we go to such absurd lengths to capture and conceal big-I?
Don't you see?
Er... not exactly.
With big-I safely packaged into the capitalised I-is-me switcherooney, hidden in plain sight where no one's even vaguely looking for it, you're free to proceed as if things are face-value instruments, and infinity, a complete non-issue.
And?
No one really questions anything fundamentally, because every time they do so they are referred back to capital I as-in me, a right-royal, smug self-satisfied pompous-twit that cannot help assuming that it is indeed truly exceptional, little suspecting that the I being invoked is, in fact, none other than the big-I of infinity...
And?
Well, who wants to admit they're delusional? That they've agreed to pretend to play the part of great, almighty "I", knocking infinity from its perch, leaving a bare-faced, butt-naked imposter in its place, which just happens to be me?
Er... like no one.
To admit the above, to recognise the fraudulent substitution we tacitly agreed to play along with, we would have to start by recognising the strange case of the missing I, without whom...
Whom? You mean infinity is a person?
More than a person - it cannot be less than all, including being, can it, if we are to avoid repeating the mistake of making infinity less than us. The issue is not what infinity is, but how we managed to remove it from the public record, to scrub it from general awareness, and whether this act of lèse-majesté is reversible? For without the restitution of big-I nothing in reality can or will make sense, without huge distortion and mental manipulation. "I", the usurper seem incapable of even recognising the absurdity of our I-denuded scheme of things, still less my infamy for aiding and abetting the above.
Yes?
More likely I is, presumably, blissfully unaware of the switcheroo, blissfully ignorant of what I, unwittingly, am grammar-logically claiming to be, and in all likelihood purposely designed not to see what is literally hidden in plain sight, what is unmistakable and unmissable to the dotted i, to the i which accepts and acknowledges the limited nature of personhood and the power behind things.
Er...
Precisely. No one has a clue, so when our awareness or suspicions rise into view, and we experience a panic attack or a deep sense of "something indefinable definitely ain't right", it's taken to be a mild form of paranoia which we automatically do our best to overlook and suppress, rather than questioning whether there's a deeper conspiracy involving manipulation of who or what I is or i am. It's easy enough once a single deep pain-trauma has been inserted, which i goes to great lengths to avoid revisiting, thus keeping consciousness trapped in a virtual loop, effectively cutting off access to the universal mind of Infinity.
The what?
Well, believe it or not your rational mind, which only exists in the first place as a sleepy backwater of the infinity Mind, with certain filters applied, deals with things in a kind of causational mobius loop, constantly looking for factors which got us where we are on this paradoxically two-sided one-sided strip of reality, little suspecting that those filters are provisional on the perfectly rational yet utterly erroneous assumption that "I" refers to me, rather than the strangely unrepresented big-I of infinity.
You mean to say we actually have access to the Mind of Infinity? That's like - insane, like having direct access to all the world's computing power... Hard to believe in fact. Very hard.
Well yes, until you give it half a moment's thought and consider how a few billion amoeba cells, loosely speaking, could actually give you the kind of full on mind-awareness experience you typically take for granted, in an utterly casual way.
Oh yeah, now you put it like that it's kinda obvious really. Strange I never saw it before.
Such is the power of truly inspired conspiracy (88) to establish an all encompassing, utterly convincing State of things, which only falls by the wayside and becomes laughably shallow and absurd as and when i realises it isn't I, that in fact the substitution game was a masterstroke of economy and effectiveness, playing on the natural propensity of any mind to assume alpha-male I-ness if deprived of inputs from the unfractured, unfragmented allness which we still be part of.
Still?
Just as soon as we're willing to confront that stumbling block.
The trauma?
What else?
But...
Actually it's not ever going to hurt more than living in a barren, essentially meaningless State of things, in fact, the pain we're terrified of revisiting is like that of childbirth - it becomes a blissful ecstasy just as soon as
I is willing to embrace I-ness?
Precisely.
Tally ho!
0=1
can you eat them in a heartless manner?
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