Monday, February 19, 2024

by the ancient rood

 

Just as long as you don’t start talking about plate tectonics again, eM. You know how I feel about those absurd theories.



Yes, Zanzi-bar, me too!

 

You? You’re the one who was trying to sell me on the notion of subduction zones and mid-oceanic ridges, and now you expect me to believe you were advocating a theory you yourself don’t believe in?

 

Zanzi-bar, my dear friend, these theories don’t just grow on trees you know.

 

...? What’s that supposed to mean, eM?

 

Any theory that’s made it past the huddled conspiratorial gatherings of a few fanatical minds into the mainstream of public policy and school exams must have something going for it, even if it’s undoubtedly wrong, which this one is.

 

So, you’re impressed by the fact that it achieved mass adoption even though it’s wrong

 

Absolutely. It doesn’t matter all that much who has the most accurate description of 3d reality, does it?

 

Er... Whyever not?

 

When you consider that 3d reality itself is not, in fact, what it appears to be by a long stretch of the imagination, when you strip away all the convenient half-truths.

 

What convenient half-truths eM? I don’t feel half truths when I fall over and graze my knee on the ground. Me thinks these half-truths are more prevalent in the rarefied realm of your theories. In the nitty-gritty of daily existence on the other hand...

 

We have a bifurcation.

 

We do?

 

Yes, we’re always bifurcating.

 

We are?

 

Absolutely.

 

Well, I never noticed.

 

No, you wouldn’t.

 

Er... why not?

 

Because in 3d reality you always take one side of the bifurcation.

 

And the other side?

 

Is conveniently hidden from sight.

 

Er... how?

 

Well, if I said “in plain view” you’d understandably say you don’t see it so that can’t be so, but it’s in plain view for anyone who isn’t locked to the binary-cum-digital signal, which as you can probably guess requires an on or an off, a one or a zero to proceed. Period.

 

Er... I’m not sure I find this terribly plausible eM.

 

I know, Zanz, I’m not expecting you to, which is why I am loath to provide an explanation.

 

Ok, supposing you were actually right... What would the other signal be.

 

Analogue.

 

Analogue?

 

Yes, or just the natural pulse of life and consciousness itself, which hasn’t been processed in any way.

 

And?

 

Well, because it’s the raw, live feed that hasn’t been processed it’s invisible to the other side.

 

Er... why?

 

Different time.

 

Different time?

 

Absolutely.

 

Er... how do you mean?

 

It’s direct and analogue so it exists as is, when is.

 

Whereas our 3d reality...

 

Is processed, cut and diced, so there’s a lag – it’s slightly out of phase.

 

Be that as it may, eM, I still don’t see how the other side could just vanish.

 

Weird, isn’t it.

 

Weird? It’s more than weird. It’s nonsensical.

 

Well, what if I said that time is like a book in which each person is on a particular page, unless you can access the zero point, the spine, so-to-speak.

 

Oh. And if you can, then what?

 

Then you can see both sides.

 

See them?

 

Yes, see them or access them.

 

So you can be in two time phases?

 

Not simultaneously.

 

Then what?

 

I can be in one, but maintain zero point awareness of the other.

 

Oh. And what does that reveal?

 

Not really “what”.

 

Er... What do you mean?

 

Not really “what”.

 

What the hell.

 

That’s more like it.

 

Huh?

 

Well “what” describes or refers to the relationship between things on one page, so to speak.

 

Like in 3d reality?

 

Yes.

 

Whereas there’s no “what” as such between different pages, different phases of time.

 

No what? Then what is there?

 

Like i said, Zanussi, no what, not as such, and yet something else there is...

 

Let me guess – some kind of quantum entanglement, or some kind of induction?

 

Ah, bravo, Zanussi. Me thinks that was more than a guess.

 

Yes?

 

Me thinks thou art cottoning on.

 

Cottoning on? And why the sudden archaic use of “thou”?

 

Why indeed: the “thou” is only archaic in timey 3d.

 

You mean you still use old English in... what do you call your analogue version of reality?

 

Tree.

 


Tree?

 

Yes. We are guardians of the tree.

 

?!

 

You guys, in whichever 3D you’re operating in, are doing the branches.

 

Oh! You mean ours isn’t the only 3d?

 

Duh! There are bifurcations all the time. Just look at any tree.

 

But how do you know you’re the real McCoy, not just a side branch?

 

Like I said, Zanzi-sprout, only if you’re able to hold the central trunk are you able to look into or even visit other branches, all of which are unique and rather fascinating thought experiments.

 

In what way?

 

Well, someone asks the question “what if”...

 

Like what?

 

Like, for example, “what if there were no God?”

 

And?

 

And if enough people respond to that question with interest then it becomes a side branch with a timeline that conceals the fact that it may be a very recent branch, which projects back into a distant past, so the branch appears to be a fully fledged tree.

 

All because of one question?

 

Well yes, but the initial what if question is just a formula that corresponds with something deeper, something you might consider structural.

 

In what way?

 

Well, there are many different ways to explain this so I don’t want to give the impression my suggestion is definitive or absolute.

 

Er... Ok... but what is your explanation?

 

Well, the tree has a master plan, a sense of its totality or wholeness. It needs side branches to continue growing up and into its fullness. Each branch is, on the one hand, incomplete and therefore false by omission, but on the other hand necessary to achieve the greater whole, to counter-balance and contradict other branches.

 

So?

 

So, the question has to inspire a sufficient number of gnomiki.

 

Gnomiki?

 

Tree spirits, tree dwellers, entities of tree’s individuated awareness.




Ok

 

For them to be willing to embrace the branch and to humanate.

 

Humanate?

 

Become humans.

 

Oh.

 

So whatever the question, if it goes viral like a popular meme or song, then it’s evidently meant to be. Perhaps it corresponds with an underlying branch node, or an upwelling paradox. What cannot be denied, going viral, is that it passes the critical threshold – CT.

 

Critical threshold? Like it attains critical mass?

 

Yes, or the energy necessary for lift off.

 

And then the gnomiki-cum-humans are trapped in their branch?

 

Yes, until/unless they become consciously aware that their branch is but a branch, is merely part of a tree.

 

And that happens?

 

Yes, why not?

 

And, what does that entail?

 

Facing the shocking truth that the branch, their entire world, their reality is in some way disconnected from the greater all that is, from the paradigm they’re within, is actually at cross-purposes.

 

But how is that possible if they only know their branch?

 

Good question Zanzi-gnom.

 

Well?

 

You tell me.

 

Me?

 

Yes, you.

 

I... I can but speculate.

 

Well go for it, speculate! What have you got to lose?

 

Um... Ok. You talked about us becoming consciously aware of our predicament, of the fact that we are in some way disconnected fundamentally from the greater all that is...

 

Yes.

 

Well that's implies there must be an unconscious awareness before we become consciously aware.

 

Yes.

 

And unconscious awareness must create some kind of rub or friction in the mind or experience of reality for all these so called humans.

 

Yep.

 

And presumably we have all kinds of pathways and avenues connecting us with the unconscious ness, such as dreams or feelings. Or perhaps truth-sense?

 

Yes.

 

So it’s by no means as hopeless as might at first seem.

 

True

 

Besides, the branch is never truly disconnected from the tree, is it? On the contrary, it grows and develops within the trees energy field, nurtured by its sap and nutrients.

 

Yes, Zanzi-bar, your speculations are highly fruitful when you give them free rein.

 

So tell me about “thou”, if you would.

 

Thou?

 

Yes, why did we branchlings stop using this particular word?

 

Ah... You smell a rat?

 

I... don’t know. It just seems curious.

 

As indeed it is, Zanzi-mind, but this is more than mere idle curiosity.

 

It is?

 

Oh yes. You’re spotting too many ill-concealed truth infantry mines.

 

I am?

 

Verily.

 

Well, kindly proceed.

 

Anon. A branch. A stitch in time. To start or contrive an entirely new, dare I say it, an “artificial” reality requires a so-called quantum shift. Tis no minor matter.

 

Ok.

 

It requires a definitive break with tide and commencement of time, tick ticking ever further away from its inception point.

 

Ah. Tide as in Christmas tide?

 

Verily. The ebb and flow of natural tide which is ever advancing, ever retreating cyclically.

 

Ok.

 

It requires certain ritual sacrifices to be made.

 

It does? That er... sounds somewhat macabre.

 

Indeed. Because it requires a small death and rebirth into a lesser order, a side branch, a derivative or offshoot.

 

Ok.

 

Certain words will be lost or sacrificed.

 

Only words?

 

Words are a part of you... of us.

 

They are?

 

Of our collective conscious-ness; our totality.

 

Really?

 

Verily. No word is just a word. So in your branch certain words simply disappear from usage inexplicably, while others have a radically different meaning.

 

And we’d notice that?

 

Indeed, if you have eyes to see.

 

And this will trigger our awareness?

 

No, not initially.

 

Whyever not?

 

It goes too deep, too close to the bone, to the very quick of is, as opposed to what.

 

Really?

 

No, not really.

 

Huh?

 

Verily. “Really” like “what” is a substitute word which refers to the branch, not the tree.

 

So can you give some examples?

 

I already have.

 

Thou?

 

Yes.

 

But it’s just an archaic form of you, isn’t it?

 

Not in French or Russian. Not in many other languages.

 

But it’s hardly proof.

 

Proof hardly ever is, unless you’re able to, willing to feel the underlying truth.

 

Oh.

 

Consider “thou” – the close, loving, intimate form of address, like a first name or a nickname, and suddenly you’re in a world, a reality where it’s just Peterson, Smith or Blythe, cold and formal.

 

Oh.

 

Oh indeed.

 

But it just happened over time, eM, naturally, like an evolutionary process.

 

Such as?

 

Such as the tail becoming nothing more than a tail bone.

 

Indeed.

 

You see.

 

Yes, that’s how the mind maintains the branch’s reality.

 

The mind?

 

Correct. It generates endless facile “explanations” grounded in nothing more than the need to avoid facing, acknowledging the branch – which is an affront to both mind and ego.

 

Oh.

 

So you still say thou?

 

We cannot deny it.

 

Anything else?

 

Original meanings do not change.

 

No?

 

No, not in the way they do in 3d reality.

 

For example?

 

For example “nice”.

 

Nice?

 

Yes, or “silly”.

 

Silly?

 

Correct, or “rude”.

 

Rude?

 

You see?

 

No, I see nothing of the sort. How have they changed?

 

Diametrically, you might say. Look them up. It’s easy. Don’t take my word for it.

 

Ok, I will, but this is just how things change with time, isn’t it?

 

Yes. To create time you need a number of rather significant, critical changes in order to initiate a breakaway civilisation, and then time has to carry on, diluting ever further the original meaning.

 

Oh.

 

Whereas in tide, no such need exists, so they keep their original meaning which is, in any case, vibratory as well as hieroglyphic.

 

Really? Hieroglyphic?

 

Yes, verily. Every word has a unique hieroglyph, or a combination thereof. These go back to the dawn of creation, not just our particular tree, but the very first tree, so we’re talking immense antiquity.

 

Oh.

 

So proceed, Zanzi-mot. Tell me  what the three words originally mean.

 

Meant.

 

Meant in time, mean in tide.

 

Ok... Here goes – Zanussi gets busy with his portable device checking the etymology of the words nice, silly and rude. A little head scratching ensues.

 

– so if I get this right, eM, nice originally meant late 13c., "foolish, ignorant, frivolous, senseless," from Old French nice (12c.) "careless, clumsy; weak; poor, needy; simple, stupid, silly, foolish," from Latin nescius "ignorant, unaware," literally "not-knowing," from ne- "not" (from PIE root *ne- "not") + stem of scire "to know". "The sense development has been extraordinary, — from "timid, faint-hearted" (pre-1300); to "fussy, fastidious" (late 14c.); to "dainty, delicate" (c. 1400); to "precise, careful" (1500s, preserved in such terms as a nice distinction and nice and early); to "agreeable, delightful" (1769); to "kind, thoughtful" (1830). https://www.etymonline.com/word/nice

 

And the word silly evolved from "happy" through "blessed;" "pious;" "innocent" (c. 1200), to "harmless," to "pitiable" (late 13c.), "weak" (c. 1300), to "feeble in mind, lacking in reason, foolish" (1570s).

 

Well, I checked rude and it doesn’t seem to have changed much at all – late 13c., "coarse, rough, without finish" (of surfaces), from Old French ruide (13c.) and directly from Latin rudis "rough, crude, unlearned," so you seem to have made a mistake.

 

Yes Zanzi-mot, 3d reality never fails to trip us up, and confuse us. There are always gaps, omissions or errors in a fact-based system of knowledge. Without direct knowledge you’re always going to stumble, sooner or later.

 

So you claim to have “direct knowledge” eM. Very convenient. And what does your direct knowledge tell you about the word rude?

 

Well, from the perspective of the tree it’s closely connected with the words root and red, also the old word rood...

 

By the rood!

 

Verily – the holy cross or tree. It was connected with health, vitality and vigour, so you see rude has also gone through a diametric sense shift.

 

And you can prove this – that it isn’t merely the product of your idle speculation.

 

Indeed, Zanzi-troth, the proof is in the pudding, is it not?

 

So you keep saying.

 

But the proof you’re asking for is the tree itself, in the tree, or of the tree, depending on how you position your mind’s eye.

 

Oh, so no proof.

 

Plenty, if you’re willing to ask for it.

 

How?

 

Just ask.

 

I did. You said it’s in the tree, or of the tree. Prevarication, obfuscation, ambiguation, as is your wont.

 

Not me, silly, ask the tree.



The tree?

 

Well yes. Who else?

 

You want me to ask the “tree”?

 

No, I don’t “want” you to do anything, but if it’s proof you’re after, then that’s the way to get it.

 

Ok, but this is getting weird. I can’t just ask the “tree”.

 

No?

 

No, that would be like asking God.

 

Well, you’re welcome to ask God if you prefer. I’m not here to question your religious beliefs, but the tree, I have to admit, is in no way a religious belief.

 

Oh.

 

It’s our absolute, without which we’d surely be lost, adrift on the great ocean of consciousness.

 

Ok. Well, it feels a bit uncomfortable, you know.

 

Yes, i know, but truth comes at a price, so you decide.

 

Ok eM, I’m game, just tell me what to do.

 

Ask – the – tree.

 

Yes, but how? What’s the procedure.

 

Quit complicating thinks Zanzi-mind. Just do it.

 

But I can’t see the tree. I can’t just speak to myself.

 

Ok, let’s pretend this phone is switched on. Now, dial any number you like. Trust me, it’ll be the right one. There, that’s good. Now speak.

 

Hello?

 

Hello.

 

But that’s you speaking, eM.

 

It doesn’t matter, Zanzy. Who cares.

 

Ok, ok... I want to speak to the tree.

 

Speaking.

 

I know this sounds crazy, asking you about the word “rude”, but I was wondering if eM’s etymology is correct?

 

Yes, in tree it is, though not in your branch reality.

 

Ok, but how do I know that it’s you speaking and not just eM playing games.

 

Ah, do you want me to show you?

 

Well, yes.

 

I’ll have to reactivate your tree chip.

 

Tree chip? Are you joking? Like a computer chip?

 

Well, like a chip-off-the-old-block, yes, but in your 3d branch you might call it a computer chip (can’t imagine why you’re so fascinated by computers though); beastly primitive things, if you ask me.

 

Oh, they’re not so bad. At least we can more or less trust them to give us objective answers to our inquiries.

 

So are we proceeding? Do I reactivate your tree chip?

 

Yes, if it isn’t going to be harmful in any way.

 

Harmful, no, but it’s going to radically change your perspective.

 

I think I can handle that.

 

We’ll see.

 

And if I can’t?

 

Then I’ll disconnect you for a while until your system is back to normal.

 

Sounds good eM.

 

eM?

 

Oh, sorry tree. Sounds good, tree. Kindly proceed.

 

Hell.

 

Huh?

 

Hell.

 

Is there a problem?

 

No, I have to access your chip through hell.

 

What?! You’re kidding!

 

Negative, Zanzi-fright, that thing you refer to as “kidding” is incompatible with my tree-ful-ness.



But hell is evil – and associated with death.

 

Yes, in 3d reality, that’s correct, but what’s the original meaning of the word?

 

I honestly couldn’t care less, tree! Anything related to hell is off limits, totally.

 

Bear in mind that I cannot harm you, twiglet or leaf that you are.

 

You can’t?

 

Nope.

 

Well why in the hell are you talking about hell then?

 

Ditto.

 

Because I’m angry.

 

And do you know what your anger does to my ecology?

 

No, and I don’t care.

 

In other words, part of your programme is evil, destructive, utterly egoistic – am I overstating things?

 

Yes, you are.

 

How?

 

Just using the odd curse word is not the ultimate evil – sometimes it’s justified.

 

Is that so? Hell. Look it up.

 

I thought you were reactivating my tree chip?

 

Yep. That’s why you need to unblock the hell portal.

 

No oooo! This is too much.

 

You’re demonising me, tree, and you can’t even be bothered to figure out what hell means.

 

Ok, ok. You could just tell me your version.

 

Could i? You’ve done this before, have you? Reactivated tree awareness?

 

Not exactly. Look, I’m sorry I freaked out, tree. I don’t know why but I’m really jumpy when it comes to “hell”.

 

Because your chip needed to be well segregated.

 

Oh, that’s it, is it?

 

You bet.

 

Well, I’ve looked it up but nothing unusual there.

 

No?

 

No, here it is – Hell, Old English hel, helle, "nether world, abode of the dead, infernal regions, place of torment for the wicked after death," from Proto-Germanic *haljō "the underworld" (source also of Old Frisian helle, Old Saxon hellia, Dutch hel, Old Norse hel, German Hölle, Gothic halja "hell"). Literally "concealed place" (compare Old Norse hellir "cave, cavern"), from PIE root *kel- (1) "to cover, conceal, save." It goes on a bit more but you’ve got the message. https://www.etymonline.com/word/hell

 

Yes Zanzi-truth. What if I told you that the actual root of this word, or the true meaning is found in the German for “bright” or “light”.

 

Hell?

 

Yes, which is also the root of “hail” and “hello”.

 

No!

 

Yes.

 

But that’s insane.

 

Correct. How else do you think a branch can be established. It requires a fundamental distortion of reality: a bend or fork.

 

So hell is actually a good place?

 

Don’t try too hard to understand the ins and outs, Zanzi-mind. That will take you into either-or-ness. Instead, allow yourself to feel the truth without prejudice, without judgement, without personalising it. That will trigger reactivation.

 

Hey, there’s a...

 

Buzzing.

 

Yes, can you hear it?

 

No, it’s deep inside. You’re feeling it. Now, let’s see if you can use the buzzing to test whatever truth needs testing.

 

Like “silly”?

 

Fire ahead.

 

Oh, the buzzing shifts, deeper, more mellow.

 

Feel it, breathe it, allow it to suffuse you.

 

Blip – Zanzi-bar appears to disappear, tautologically, replaced by an awareness growing firmer and stronger in a place that does not exist in time at all, but in the temporal ebb and flow known as tide.

 

Well that’s that, tree. You’ve officially blown my mind.

 

I have?

 

Well, more or less. I’ve checked all the words and eM was right.

 

Really?

 

Not really. Verily, in truth.

 

Good.

 

Do I have to keep holding this switched off phone?

 

No. Give it back to eM.

 

Ok. Here eM... Oh, he’s gone.

 

How bizarre. So who’s been speaking to you?

 

Well clearly not eM. You i guess.

 

Me?

 

Well, you know what i mean. But where’s eM?

 

Buzz him, if you like.

 

Ok.

 

And Zanzi-bar starts allowing the primal buzz to sense and reconnect with eM who is seen to be standing right next to him, pretending to answer for tree, while on the other side Zanzi-mind is talking to tree represented by an exquisite living, breathing hieroglyph in a place of gentle tide-y-ness.

 


Ah, you’ve managed to see both sides, the tree glyph and eM say simultaneously, further cementing the dualism.

 

I...

 

Lost for words. Time and tide pulse and flow through, round, between Zanzi-bar and Zanzi-mind, causing rather spectacular effects in the 3d matrix – Northern Lights in the Saharan desert and other psychedelic manifestations of far-out-ness.

 

Me thinks the f word...

 

Yes, Zanussi.

 

Is somehow connected with the fork of a branch. Funny the way so much information is right there under our noses.

 

Information

 

or truth – tree adds

 

can neither be created nor destroyed.

 

Indeed.

 

In fact, eM continues, every thing is a recycling or restatement of 14 simple architectural blocks

 

Or strokes

 

14?

 

Well, 14 itself is...

 

Buzz it Zanzi-mind

 

Buzz it for all you’re worth...

 

And everything in your world that you find deeply, deeply upsetting. Buzz the lot. It’s time for the tide to turn, is it not?

 

And who but you can make it turn?

 

“Betide me weal, betide me woe”. Thomas the Rhymer

 


0=1

or 14, should you prefer.

 




Saturday, February 10, 2024

there's the rub – Shakespeare and plate tectonics

 


The rub.

 

The what?

 

Rub... the rub.

 

Not sure i follow what you’re trying to say.

 

Oh, you follow alright Zanzi-bar.

 

I do?

 

Oh yes.

 

I...

 

Zanzibar’s lip starts to tremble, ever so slightly.

 

Oh, you follow alright, Zanussi... always did, despite your protestations to the contrary.

 

I...

 

Zanzibar dabs his face with a handkerchief – wiping beads of perspiration.

 

I...

 

Ay, there's the rub... Hamlet pronounces

 

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause...

 

Correct. You know.

 

But what came over me, Merry?

 

Merry?

 

eM. What came over me? Why did i break out in a cold sweat. Why did my face start convulsing like...

 

Infinity, Zan, is no laughing matter.

 

But – I’m confused. The rub is not the same as infinity, is it?

 

No two things are never exactly the same, are they.

 

Er... I guess not.

 

The rub is where the passive side of infinity comes into the action zone, comes online, so to speak.

 

Oh.

 

“The rub” is the point of contention – like the strand where the sea and the land meet in a long line of active contact; friction.

 

Oh.

 

The vast preponderance of infinity, or rather all that is, simply is, upsetting no apple carts, existing undramatically as a left or right leg does, self-contained and largely complete.

 

Er...

 

But somewhere the left and right side have to come together. Have to, i repeat, for they could never ultimately grow or exist in isolation.

 

No?

 

No, of course not.

 

But...

 

One is curving slightly away ad infinitum on one side, the other, ever so slightly on the other side, complementing, counteracting each other.

 

But why?

 

Why?

 

Yes, why?

 

Because infinity is, ultimately, neither.

 

Huh?

 

Lacking form or substance.

 

What?

 

Not being finite... but just removed, in the zone alongside you have form and substance which sandwich what might perhaps be infinity, apparently containing that which can’t really be contained... Enabling the rub.

 

It sounds like plate tectonics, you know. You have a subduction zone like the west coast of America where the Pacific plate goes beneath the continental plate.

 

Or so they say.

 

And then you have mid-ocean an upwelling where the ocean plate expands east and west, 3D printing itself with rising magma on both sides of the mid-ocean ridge.

 


Yes, the theory is illuminating even if it isn’t necessarily correct.

 

So there’s the rub, is it eM?

 

Yes, pick your analogy. It’s where the two sides come together in some kind of contact to reconcile or balance their differences except, of course, that they’re never really going to succeed.

 

No? Why not? Why so pessimistic?

 

Pessimistic? I wouldn’t say that.

 

But you said they’ll never succeed.

 

Well, these are words you know. The rub is a process, like a game or a business enterprise. It isn’t necessarily supposed to achieve a final outcome.

 

No?

 

No. It’s more a point or line of contact between opposing forces, which exist, as all things do, in opposition to one another.

 

But why?

 

Why what?

 

Why opposition? Why not harmony?

 

The harmony is there if you want it.

 

It is?

 

Yes. But not in the things per se.

 

No, then where?

 

In you.

 

In me?

 

You, your mind, your heart or your soul. Somewhere in you.

 

But why me?

 

Why? Do you imagine things can exist independently of you?

 

Well yes. They do, don’t they? This chair, that table, the ground beneath us – they’re just there.

 

Yes, they are, as long as you’re holding the other end of reality, as long as you’re closing the loop.

 

Loop? What loop?

 

Things can’t just exist in a vacuum, can they?

 

What vacuum? Physical reality is nothing like a vacuum unless you’re up in space.

 

Correct, Zanzi-bub. Physical reality is nothing like a vacuum as long as it is enclosed or contained.

 

Contained? What need is there for containment? There’s an entire Earth that seems to do the job well enough.

 

Yes, it does, I agree, yet that’s only as long as you’re taking things at face value.

 

How else would I take them if not at face value?

 

That’s a good question, Zanzi-bop. You can take them however you like but there’s still the rub to consider, like it or not.

 

What bloody rub?! I don’t see any effing rub other than in your frankly unhinged philosophical speculations.

 

Yes, that’s understandable. We all have our limitations, you know. There’s no shame in that, but a concept that was simple and obvious to William Shakespeare can’t just vanish without a trace. In Shakespeare’s day they still felt, still saw, still knew that things out there in so called “objective reality” have to be part of a living system – a biology, so to speak.

 

How do you mean?

 

The same way your physical body, including external parts of it such as your hair, teeth, nails or skin, also needs to be part of a living system, a biology. Somewhere in all that congealed stuff there has to be a spirit or intelligence, or if you prefer we can call it a “conscious-ness” holding it all together.

 

Yes, eM, but it doesn’t have to be floating amorphously in the stuff of various body parts.

 

No?

 

No, it can be in the brain which is a kind of law unto itself, a separate seat of consciousness, or a connection to the cosmic ethereal consciousness, if you prefer that theory.

 

Yep. It can be the brain if you like.

 

In which case the skin and hair, teeth and nails – the whole body, bar the brain – are merely things or connected components which neither generate nor experience directly consciousness.

 

Yep, that’s how the mind prefers to describe it.

 

And you don’t?

 

There’s the rub, Zanzi-san. Beyond whatever I think is something else which can’t really be thought, can’t really be described.

 

Er...

 

A pure conscious-ness.

 

And?

 

And the rub is the interface between the two.

 

It is?

 

Yep. You can deny it. You can ignore it. You can do whatever you like, but then you end up squashing things into or onto a conveniently flat or conveniently static plain. You end up positioning yourself on one side and turning your mind’s back to the rub, which has to be felt as a friction between opposing states rather than thought into this or that form.

 

Felt?

 

Inside you.

 

In my brain?

 

Not exactly.

 

No?

 

Nope, though the brain can participate, for sure.

 

Phew, that’s a relief.

 

Just as long as it doesn’t attempt to control, to dominate the proceedings.

 

So, I have to feel the rub with all my body?

 

Body, heart, soul, energy field, that kind of thing.

 

How?

 

The same way you feel a mood.

 

A mood?

 

Or a sensation... a vibration... even a pain.

 

Something vague and unintelligent, you mean.

 

Yes, that’s right, though it can be specific like a toothache, or more vague like a depression.

 

Oh.

 

But first you need to feel it, to become aware. Otherwise you’ll spend your entire life trapped in  phenomenonity.

 

Phenomenony-tea?

 

Nearly, Zanz, nearly. Phenomenon-ity which is focusing on what materialises just “downstream” on either side of the mid-ocean ridge.

 

On something real.

 

Yes, something real, and something you can get your mental teeth into, so to speak, with a definite shape and form.

 

Sounds eminently practical, eM.

 

As indeed it is... eminently.

 

But?

 

The phenomena we prefer to experience and study are, ultimately, no substitute for the rub itself.

 

No? Why not?

 

In the same way sex is no substitute for love.

 

Er...

 

Actually, the two are supposed to exist or function in tandem.

 

In tandem?

 

Or in parallel.

 

Hey, make up your mind!

 

That’s the rub, Zanzi-man.

 

It is?

 

Yes, at the rub, at the coalface of conscious-ness, so you speak, there’s no mind to be made up.

 

No mind?! Are you insane.

 

Do I detect resistance to the infinite, Zanzi-took? No surprise there, is there!

 

But you can’t always have it both ways, eM: either it’s fish or foul, either tandem or parallel.

 

Correct. Either your on the east side of the mid-ocean ridge heading eastwards towards California and bust, or you’re on t’other side etc, unless you decide to consciously cultivate your awareness of the ridge itself, or the place deep below the ridge from whence...

 

“From whence” eM – surely it should be simply whence they come?

 

Or whence they originate?

 

Yes.

 

Yes, it should, it phenomenonity such things matter, as things congealed, things hard boiled, but at the subduction or expansion zone, or even on the beachy strand, such things are yet ill-decided, ill-determined, up for grabs, as long as your at the, in the, of the rub.

 

Well, I personally disagree.

 

As well you should, your “person” belonging to the jurisdiction, the realm of phenomenonity. Obliged you are to identify it, to take sides, to emperson. Yet consider the following as food for rub...

 

Let them be whipp'd through every market town till they come to Berwick, from whence they came. — Shakespeare, Henry VI, part 2, 1592

 

… Sittingbourne, from whence we had a famous pair of horses … — Jane Austen, letter, 24 Oct. 1798

 

… addressed to this place, from whence it will be forwarded to me … — Lord Byron, letter, 31 Aug. 1809

 

Er...

 

Even Samuel Johnson himself, the renowned lexicographer who referred to the practice of from-whencing as, I quote, a vitious mode of speech, himself wrote, if you dare trust his biographer:

 

There is nothing served about there; neither tea, nor coffee, nor lemonade, nor anything whatever; and depend upon it, Sir, a man does not love to go to a place from whence he comes out exactly as he went in — Samuel Johnson, quoted in Boswell’s “The Life of Samuel Johnson”, 1791. (merriam-webster.com)

 

And if I don’t? If I think it was Boswell’s error?

 

Then you’re doing what any thinking person does and, in truth, should do...

 

Namely?

 

Thinking. Phenomenonning.

 

Double n?

 

British English yes. American English one should suffice.

 

Damn you eM!

 

Yes, it’s bound to happen on one side, but at least I know that on t’other side I’ll be redeemed, or understood.

 

There’s the rub, but at the core you’ll just be a dull sensation like a toothache.

 

Touché, Zanzi-wen, very droll.

 

Droll, but what do you mean by this? Are you saying that we need to reject phenomena and rest in a constant samadhi state of enlightened is-ness, where all things are equal?

 

If you like.

 

And if I don’t?

 

Then don’t... Do as you will.

 

Then to what end is all this endless deliberation on this rub of yours.

 

To no end.

 

Then... I know not what to say

 

Or think

 

Exactly. It all seems rather desolate.

 

As an absence of thought, a lack of phenomena for the phenomena-mill, yes, I’d agree.

 

You would? Or you do?

 

About to reply

 

No, don’t say “both”.

 

I said nothing.

 

But you were going to.

 

Was I?

 

Yes, I think you were.

 

Ah.

 

Ah?

 

There’s the rub.

 

Damn!

 

Beep-y-ness, sensed rather than heard explicitly.

 

Et tu, Brutus?

 

Brute.

 

Ok, Beep, big deal, quit picking hairs.

 

Actually Suetonius says Brutus spoke in Greek ‘Kai su, teknon?’ (You too, my son) whereas Plutarch, says that Caesar died in silence, pulling his toga over his head.

 

I don’t care. It isn’t important Beep.

 

I agree, Zanzi-can, but it's important to recognise that he was not asking 'You too, my son?' The words 'Kai su' – found in Greek comedy and on mosaics – mean 'Screw you!' and the 'teknon' ('kid') just makes it fiercer.

Greg Rowe, The Queen's College, Oxford.

 

Leave me alone...

 

As we all know, the old Greek language doesn’t have anything to do with a modern Greek language and no Greeks can understand the old one. The only people who do understand it are Albanians. The etymology of the word KAI SU TEKNON (Kai s’u te knon)means Cry like you are singing. Kai -Cray SU- like you Te`knon- singing Shakespeare was in Albania a few times and he maybe understood the Albanian language.

Lamun Dardanian, Kosova Albania (https://www.theguardian.com/notesandqueries/query/0,5753,-1156,00.html)

 

Tell him to go away, eM.

 

Tell him yourself.

 

Go away Beep. Avaunt, foul fiend of the nether world.

 

Beep exits stage right to the sound of frogs croaking/ stage left to the sound of waves breaking on a suitably desolate and romantic shore.

 

Would you all just shut up and leave me be?!

 

Cries Zanzibar in despair, tearing his hair and pounding his breast in soul-wracked anguish.

 

What is happening?

 

What is happening? Reverberating endlessly through the collapsing field of conscious-ness that hitherto identified itself as Zanzi-bar-none.

 

Not true. Liar! I never, never identified myself as Zanzi-bar-none. And I know exactly what you’re trying to do Beep.

 

You do? Oops. I’m not here. You sent me hence.

 

Caught you! I wasn’t born yesterday, Beep.

 

Zanussi-bar, is everything ok?

 

Huh?

 

Is everything ok? You seem to be talking to someone.

 

I... er. Yes, I mean no. eM, I’m not sure, really.

 

Well, I don’t wish to intrude if you’re having a moment all to yourself.

 

Myself? I’m not talking to my self, eM.  I’m not insane, you know.

 

No one said you are, Zanussi-max. Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises.

 

Ha! Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me; that, when I waked,
I cried to dream again. (The Tempest, Act III, Scene II.)

 

Beautiful. Well done, Zanzi-me.

 

Epilogue

 
The Earth breathes a sigh of relief,
As Zanzi-not enters a blissful
state of Samadhi; as Rob, the rub,
a splendid cricket somewhere unseen
chirrup-chirrups to his heart’s content
in the summer sun, and you,
best beloved reader and subscriber
to g-nomeportal.ity cease to make things matter inexorably, allowing me, your poet and guide, a brief respite, the opportunity to converse directly without words, anon

 

0=1

merry a day

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