She cometh

Do you have any idea how frustrating it is

Yes

how frustrating it is when

Yes

when someone like you

Yes

interrupts me constantly

...

before I've finished what I was trying to say

...

You're not a good listener Merry

...

Even now -- you're scoffing silently

...

You're keeping quiet just long enough to

To?

there you go again... 

I apologise

Instead of pretending to be sorry -- try playing the game of silence

Oh -- it's a game, is it?

Yes -- it's an engagement

Ah

There, you see -- you have infinity at the fingertips of your mind -- just as long as you're willing to listen with them.

To listen?

Yes

With fingertips of my mind?

Precisely. Give it a try.

Uh... 

Wave them around like this... breathe with them... feel them... now hear what is being felt

But how?

Impossibly.

Uh?

Impossibly. The only things worth doing in life are impossible.

They are?

Naturally. Everything else is commonplace/ routine/ barely worth the effort

Even writing a poem or cleaning your teeth?

Especially writing a poem. [bloody] waste of time.

Oh. That's a pity.

Pity? Why?

I rather thought writing a poem was a noble way to grapple with infinity.

Which it is -- if you're talking about writing one poem, and not several -- because all too soon these things become washing lines to hang the laundry of our life upon.

Oh.

As opposed to poetically inspired word-foolery.

Oh.

Much better to write the other kind of poem.

Which one is that?

The one with no words

No words? What kind of a poem is that?

That depends. It could be good or bad -- depending on how you do it.

But...

Yes?

How can you call it a poem if it has no words?

It's the only poem that is truly, utterly 

Yes?

All other poems -- the ones with words -- they never quite succeed.

? I'm not sure I follow.

They never quite hit the mark.

You're saying "poems with words in them never quite hit the mark? Tell that to Milton, Keats, Shakespeare

to name but three. Look Eldritch -- read them a dozen times, then a dozen more, then another dozen -- and very soon you're going to get sick of those words. They don't bear frequent repetition.

And? That's hardly a reason not to read or write 'em, is it? 

I rather thought it was.

That would be like not eating food just because eating too much can make you sick and put you off.

You might be right, but I'm not concerned about being right. I'm simply interested in sharing an insight.

An insight?

Yes, precisely, concerning poetry.

Well?

I was pausing -- before you rudely interjected. 

Oh -- sorry.

Let me back up.

Ok. My lips are sealed.

... concerning poetry...                                           excellent -- you held that... beautifully.

But...

Yes?

What's the insight?

You're assuming you only know things when they're spelled out.

That seems logical to me

Whereas, in fact, you have direct access to poetry -- audible and inaudible, visible and invisible.

I do?

Yes, naturally.We all do, just as soon as we start listening -- hearing the sounds of silence. 

Oh come on -- I thought you had something original to say. You're just Simon Garfunkling me. 

Not even Simon and Garfunkle hit the mark though, admittedly, they come pretty close.

But you can’t seriously be intent on promulgating a policy of silent poetry?

No, I’m not.

Phew! You had me worried.

“Silent poetry” would be something denied, something missing.

Then what?

I’m suggesting that all you’re so-called “poetry” is a kind of rough guide to poetry – an indicator of the sort of direction we should be heading in.

Er...

If we’re aiming for the real McCoy: true poetry, then it’s not going to be a thing, primarily.

No?

Nope.

Then what?

A transition into poetry, a state of being in rhythm, in tune with life itself, receptive to the music, the moods, the magic, the umm

An altered state?

Again, you are barking up a tree rather than sounding the silence of knowing.

Probably because I’m not an aery-faery mystic living in a dream world.

Not an altered state because poetry is the original. Everything else is derivative. Poetry, and alone poetry has the power to give you real satisfaction, real meaning, real beauty, real...

Oh that. Why didn’t I guess – real mind-the-gap.

So instead of taking offence or worrying about whether or not I’ve succeeded in conveying the magic, the beauty of Is...

Is?

What is – nothing more, nothing less.

I thought as much.

Now i simply allow her to work her magic.

Her? Who are you talking about?

Who else? Poetry, of course.

But... you said it was a state.

As it is, yet engaging it/ interfacing that state colours it imperceptibly – as it responds to us.

It does?

Yes, naturally. How could it be otherwise?

I don’t know. I never really gave it any thought.

It’s the quantum mechanics thing. You cannot help but affect in some way anything you come into contact with, be that a field or seemingly neutral state.

Ok... But why female?

Why’s God male?

He wasn’t always male, was he. There used to be female Gods.

But the one God the Creator has to be male, doesn’t it?

He.

It becomes He as and when we...

You’re not going to say that we make God male?

I don’t need to say it. We’re not really concerned with God right now, are we? We are dealing with Her. God can wait.

So she’s God in reverse?

You might say... She is what happens if and when you engage poetry, without rushing to cash it in.

Huh?

Well usually the poet hastens to cash in the experience, to convert it into magical words, and thus win renown.

Oh.

In doing so he

Or she

No, the poet is he in the same way a priest serving God is female.

What? You’re kidding – they’re nearly always male.

I’m not talking about the body.

Oh.

It’s the electrical circuit, if you like.

Oh.

He, the poet, whether he’s male or female, holds the He position, engaging Her – poetry itself. If he’s successful – he entices her to hold court with him – enabling him to actually, physically become Poet.

As in “a poet”.

No.

No?

No – to become Poet has nothing to do with being “a poet”. Poet may never write a line of verse, and be none the worse for it.

Uh?

Poet holds state with Her – poetry itself.

But…

Yes?

For what purpose?

Let’s just say it’s a calling – and if you have this particular calling – nothing could be more powerful, nothing could be more… words fail me.

So, what you’re saying is that this “Poet” doesn’t have to bother to write anything?

This Poet is working with Her, at the front line of sense and meaning – at the vcry coalface of reality – where neither things nor words are yet defined or determined.

Ok – I hear you, but I still don’t see what’s the point of it all.

Because this reality you’re living in cannot survive without us. It decays rapidly – exponentially the minute people cease to direct attention to the open end of things.

Er…

There are two sides to the equation. The closed system where God the Father reigns supreme – and the other

Full stop.

No, the other is open ended – it cannot be end stopped. It cannot even be named. It’s simply the other side – but it’s also present within each and every one of us.

Ok. And you’re saying that it’s vital to the survival of this reality we’re in. That’s a fairly bold assertion, if you don’t mind me saying.

Not at all. It matters little whether you follow the maths of the equation or not. What you will find, however, is that when attention has been skewed too much to one side – when people have given their all to reap the benefits of fame or fortune in this 3D reality – and have forgotten or lost other – absurd though this may sound.

Well what do you propose?

Poets are beginning to realise that they have a calling – they are not simply performers. They are doing more – whether they realise it or not.

Like what?

They are in the process of redefining, recoding reality.

Uh?

Not by what they write, say, dance, paint or sing

Uh?

But by how they engage Her, the aspect of infinity that can be charmed into femininity.

Uh?

Charmed – for Poet can only engage her magically – beyond the ken of mortal man – at the very limits of what can possibly be, by pouring his soul into the experience, by unpicking the strings of his existence, unwriting himself in order to use those precious bits of energy and raw code as

Uh?

There She is.

Uh?

Dorothy – he doesn’t get it, not surprisingly. Maybe he’s not ready.

Of course he’s ready – he wouldn’t be here with you now if he weren’t.

Oh.

Give him a nudge. I want to take him for a spin.

OK.

Dorothy? Who’s that?

Would you like to see? She’s waiting for you.

She?

She.

As in Her?

As in Her.

But why? I’m not a poet.

No, apparently that doesn’t matter. You are what you are

Oh.

So, I promised to give you the opportunity to meet Her. It’s time.

How do you mean?

It’s now or never.

Oh.

Let me tell you a secret.

A secret? What is it?

Acceptance – come – the gates of hell have parted – you are free to proceed.

No! I…

In peace, in wonder, in joy

Oh     oh                    oh                                         so you’re Dorothy

i am She

c3 and I

did i mention my platform

  no, tell us more

consciousness [c³]

   boring, yawn

like you’ve never known it yet

   go on – shock me if you can

ok – take a breath

   as if i’m not already breathing

take a body breath

   a what

body – a body breath

   how

just do it – c³ it if you can

   c³ my breath

no – breathe your breath and feel

   feel what

the unique relationship between body and breath when c³ is applied

   when c³ is applied – you make it sound like cookery

or a chemical process – yes – a kind of magic known as

   alchemy?

yes

   so you want me to turn my back on four hundred years of science and embrace

alchemy – yes – why not

   because now we know better

now we know one technique – one way of thinking – one kind of thought

   so why go back to alchemy

because you’ll never advance unless you do

   ?

thinking without the body breath – thinking without alchemy is suicidal – the brainbox mind is hopelessly inadequate to the task – and why would you lock yourself outside the engine room

   the engine room?

where the force of c³ is activated – where you begin to experience the quantum field, the inter-connectedness of all that is – the living-ness of thought

   the livingness of thought – whatever’s that supposed to mean

why talk about it when you have the right to experience it empirically – at first hand

   what – your atavistic c³?

if you can set aside your prejudice for a minute – suspend your disbelief

   i don’t see how – i am what i am – the product of my age

ok – remain true to your age – but bear in mind that those walls were built on lies – those walls stand on something else – those walls have shifted dramatically – which is why your reality is going through such convulsions, such distortion – because what you assumed was universal earth and universal god – it turns out were not

   huh?

you seemed to be based on terra firma – but in fact there’s an agenda at work – there’s a constant eating away of cherished ideals and principles – not because times are changing – not because of corrupt politicians

   no?

you never bothered to check the fundament – the foundational base on which your world – your so called real-ity stands

   because there’s nothing to check – it’s a given

so you claim – and yet you cannot possibly know – unless you know – and how can you know if you’ve never bothered to breathe

   never bothered to breathe? – what on earth are you about

if only on earth – we wouldn’t be having this debate – you cannot be on earth unless you bother to breathe bodily and do so in the fullness of c³ is

   is what

breathe and then you’ll know – from knowing words flow

   from knowing words flow – absurd absurd absurd

c³ is more than absurd – it is captivating, enchanting, the story’s source – the point at which time, space personalise – at which the drama of life unfolds – polyphonically – how?

   how? what do you mean “how”? how am i supposed to know? – it’s all greek to me

how do you imagine – how could c³ possibly work?

   i – don’t – know – ok?

could it possibly work in real-ity

   i – don’t – know – ok

or would it operate at a deeper level?

   like i said – i – don’t

know – it’s time you did – because you never will, you never do until/unless you start to body breathe c³

   ok – i’m breathing it – i’m seeing… i’m… switching channels

at last

Hi Merry, what took you so long?

Hi Zie – God I’m slow, I apologise.

It doesn’t make sense – you’re all seeing, all knowing over here – but back there you’re wedded to the world – a complete dumbass.

Paradoxical, isn’t it.

Paradoxical? It makes no sense.

No? Why not?

It isn’t consistent – is it?

Not if you look at it rationally.

Which is the only rational thing to do.

Yes, but c³ is beyond rational-ity, beyond real-ity, beyond any thing i can say, or think or do.

It is?

Do it – breathe bodily.

I already did.

Do it again – once is not enough.

Oh come on – I’m already switched on – you were the one who was stuck in dumb resistance.

Yes i was – but now i’m calling your bluff. c³ it – let’s see.

Ok – if i must – here goes…

010101

010101

010101

010

10101

01010

00110

11001

02

03

1

0

Which is all very well Merry – but how are they going to understand any of that?

Who?

The people reading this.

What people?

All the people who follow this blog.

But where are they? Can you see them now?

No – but they’re out there somewhere – in real-ity.

Are they? Didn’t we just deal with that above?

Yes – but – I can’t just pretend the people don’t exist

Or don’t matter.

Precisely. Can i?

You can do, think or say whatever you like – but i don’t see how that makes a difference.

Huh?

Because anything you think, say or do only has traction down to the ground you’re walking on – which is limited to one side, or one half as long as you’re in your right mind here in real-ity.

Ok, ok – I see what you mean – it’s just I don’t see how c³ can get around this blockage. We still have to deal with reality, don’t we?

Alchemically. We are magic beings. We have one foot – let’s call it the left – though it may as well be the right – in other – the allegedly dream side of is, and the right leg planted here in this – the only problem being…

What?

Think.

I don’t know. 

c³ it.

Ok – that we’ve allowed the two sides to slip out of sync – out of balance.

So how am I supposed to mediate between the two?

i don’t know. it looks impossible if you use the right mind.

And you think i should avoid the right mind – i should c³ everything?

i think you should be true to your feet – left and right. you cannot take sides.

But I have to – don’t I?

Yes, if you allow rationality to hold sway.

So there’s an alternative – you’re implying.

Naturally.

Naturally. Back to nature – you mean. Forest time. Gardening. Dancing with bluebells and daffodils?

That kind of thing – if it works – but i suspect that won’t be enough.

You do?

Yes. I suspect that c³ is taking on a whole new dimension.

Oh – I see – you’re going to pull another dimension out of your hat.

I suppose I really must – as the existing ones no longer join the dots together without deviations or crossed lines.

So you need to add another layer.

No.

I thought you said you’re going to bring a new dimension into play?

Yes – here goes – here it is….   .. .   ….     .. .  …  ..  …. … . . . . . . …  ..  .  ..  . .

So it’s a dotty dimension.

Yes – I guess you could call it that.

But – what does it achieve?

When you come back to dots you no longer have a problem reconciling the conflicts between different lines of thought, or different plains.

But dots… why dots?

Because c³ teaches us that everything can be expressed as a single point… that a point, in fact, better expresses the vastness, the infinite whole than other spatial representations. Keeping it incredibly simple forces us to deal with things at ground zero level – at the level of the intersect – and intersect or interface there has to be.

Er… there does?

Yep.

Why?

Because you have a left and a right foot – because you exist on both sides of all that is – the cosmic divide between right and left – between real-ity and c³ or above and below – so it’s really just a case of breathing deep enough to feel whence the dots arise – how the dots pop in and out of space-time time-space. The breath simply won’t take sides – it holds true – as long as I breathe bodily – as long as I embrace c³ with all my heart and soul, bilaterally.

Ok, I'll give it a try. Here goes for nothing – dot dot dot [hiccup]

Smaller – you’re too big still –  . . .

Oh – I get you • • •

That’s right – nearly there

Er – I’m feeling something shift around.

Dotted i

What?

Try a dotted i instead – it’s better attuned – it’ll ease the change if i'm not mistaken 

Ok – I, I mean – darn – old habits die hard – i . i . i .

Excellent. Now let go

Let go? I’m 

you mean – i’m

Oh yes – i’m not sure i can

Naturally – c³fully

Funny – let it be – c³fully .. … …. ……. … … ..  . ..   . .. … … .. .    

Indeed

Wait – there’s more

There is?

Yes   .. .. .. ..          .. .. .. ..          .. .. .. ..                                                   .

Oh my god – you’re a poet – au naturel

i – don’t believe it – to feel is to see is to know

naturally

indeed

but what about them?

Who?

Your followers who read that blog?

Aren’t they all here dottily – or if not – they’ll find their way now that I’ve touched base – now that .. .. ..   •

Oh bravo! What wit! What synthesis! What ... . .. ..

What a wonderful world! All hail the dotted i!

Amen  

dendrites and demons

the poet in me
steps across the filaments of stars
and the oceanic wastes
of dark space
my ruby black cosmos
mistakenly referred to in English
as “space”
mistakenly, as you may have
already guessed
being chock-full
of matter
and weightiness
if only our scientists cared to know
but they have theories to uphold
theories to defend
so let them think what they will
the truth, an irascible dog
will doubtless creep up behind
and bite their collective ass
or british english “arse”
so stepping o’er the time-space debacle
with a practised nonchalance
i note how the low lying fruit has
already been snatched,
i suspect that the poet
is about to rear a shaggy
prophetic head and pronounce
as if from the blue
a new age
a new way with words
perhaps involving
parallel processing
one grows tired of linear sequencing
you know
or some other turning of the tide
affront to common
and deterministic intelligence
woe betide the faculty of reason
when words are on the march
when thoughts are jumbling
through a blender on their way
to just in time absorption
at the far end of the gastrointestinal
tract
the mind’s a synchromesh
ill adapted to biologics
the fluid dynamics of
words on the go
a natural force synergising
the dark dark matter of space
which you abhor
and rightly a-void
avoid at any cost
nay, demonise
with whiteful consciousness
until chirrup, a bolt from below
a dendritic tear in the fabric of sameyness
pum pa pum, living word
loosed from stygian depths
lets rip through the fossil fueled agency
of poem, its fish tail slapping
the face of man
before skittering out of hand
and salopping back into
the silent hallows of
exponentialities
beyond cognisance
rhyme or  or
leaving no trace
nothing
but an utterly altered
landscape
of what was assumed
and what is secretly
known

dear god
ask not what i can say or
do as man
ask only
for the shaggy wayward
brace as i
poem my soul back
back into the
broken receptacle
the sarcophagus of space
that is humankind
and finally
finally resonate
without needing
any recompense
i

betwixt hard sound

weighing the possibility
of violence
i invariably chooses
peace
do i not

tip toe tip toe
         tip toe
clackety clack
sounds stepping back
on top
as I revert to
form and ducklike
quack
henlike
cluck

in actual fact
the space between cognition
and utter inability to grasp
whatever it is
or may have been
is a chuckle's width
abreast a broken hearted
sigh
two cocks vying
to out crow the morning
sun

i go round the mute
that i would become
had i the grace to accept
the life I freely chose
had i the wit
to slip effortlessly
betwixt the pavement
gaps in my no  not that
nor that
nor that either
   nor that
or that  you know
until in the end
i lets go
and things revert to
unimpeded
untrammelled
what can only be described as
 flow

and still
i fails to pin the tail
on the pig
not for want
of i-ing
me-fully

baa
a sheep in fold i gaze
out and dream
of wolves and sweet
serendipity
in my field of consyllabic
clover

end
as you began
weighing possibility
  the
violently
if you please
rosalind

Luke 2:1

i number you 5
i number you 4
i number you 7
i number you 9
3
1
8
12
6?
no
11?
uh
27
i
458
no
7962
i
10
gggggg

"And it came to pass in those days that a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered."

Registered? 

You heard.

All the world?

Yep.

Kind of like treating people as assets or property -- wouldn't you say?

Yep -- more or less.

Shit

happens -- from time to time -- but don't let it trouble you

Why not?

because administrative or jurisdictional overreach never goes unpunished.

What?

Whenever officials start acting like they own you -- as they do from time to time, or own your family, your property or anything they don't in fact actually own

Yes?

that can be termed administrative or jurisdictional overreach. 

And?

And I like I said -- it never goes unpunished.

No? 

No

You could have fooled me

That's not my intention

What I meant to say is that I don't see any proof to back this up.

No?

No -- I don't. Governments are constantly extending their powers and jurisdiction over people, their families or their property -- and no one seems to stop them.

I agree.

Uh?

I agree.

I thought you just said...

I agree that no one seems to stop them, but whether or not this seems to happen -- the universe, or God for that matter, moves in mysterious ways. The cosmic duvet cannot be stretched -- if it gets pulled over a new territory it always leaves another part uncovered.

Not sure I follow.

Well -- take the original quotation.

Luke, chapter 2 verse 1.

Very good -- are you a bible man?

No -- but I know a bit.

Very nice - but even if you didn't -- this isn't really about religion -- I'm using a basic mathematical formula.

You are?

Yes -- because, as it turns out, reality is basically mathematical.

You could have fooled me.

Not my intention either -- but we'll come back to that in a moment, if you don't mind.

Ok.

So -- you obviously have an empire attempting to extend its reach -- as often happens -- trying to establish a complete inventory or database of all biological assets -- which is great if you happen to own those assets as a farmer or slave owner might -- but not so great if you start treating freemen and private individuals as if they're your private property.

Yeah -- I see what you mean. But where's the punishment for administrative or jurisdictional overreach -- you seem to imply it's baked into the mathematical cake, so to speak.

Yep. A few verses later Mary gives birth to a child -- poetically, and no less ironically, in a stable.

Er -- what's poetic or ironic about that?

Well -- if the State has decided to treat people as cattle and insist on their being registered -- as if it owns them -- then what could be more fitting or perhaps revealing than the immediate appearance of the presumed saviour of mankind being born in a stable, of all places.

I see what you mean. Kind of ironic -- yeah. 

You see -- this is a case of instant karma -- or just in time duvet delivered responses.

Uh?

Well -- at the very moment "the whole world" is being inventorised, or turned into digital assets, so to speak -- at that precise moment the "saviour" appears as a farm animal, or at least, hidden among farm animals.

And you think he wasn't registered?

That's kind of irrelevant.

I thought that was the whole point you were trying to make.

Not exactly. Let's just suspend our disbelief, for a moment, and assume that the story is correct -- that Jesus is the saviour -- well his timing can hardly be coincidental, can it?

I suppose not.

Let's go one step further and assume his timing is impeccable.

Ok. 

So this implies that the elite who decided to register humanity and treat them as cattle or digital assets -- they sowed the seeds of their own downfall in the very act of doing so. The universe responds immediately and delivers a software update to immediately rectify or correct the imbalance caused by administrative or jurisdictional overreach.

But...

Yes?

But Jesus didn't succeed in putting an end to the problem, did he?

How do you mean?

People are still being registered in censuses

or censi

ok, whateever, to this day.

And?

So, how did his birth solve the problem?

Mathematically.

I don't follow.

and poetically.

I follow even less.

If, as was asserted in the gospels, he was the son of God, and Messiah, then presumably, he released into the world through his teachings whatever was necessary to correct the imbalance -- without necessarily forcing governments to stop overstepping the boundaries.

But I don't see how.

Correct -- and that's your dilemma.

My dilemma? I rather think it's your dilemma: it kind of implies you're spouting hot air as usual.

Yes -- but that's until you follow the numbers.

What numbers?

The numbers of the universe, of creation, of life, of reality...

Anything else?

The matrix.

Oh -- I knew you were going to get there in the end. How could you resist referring to the iconic numbers of the Matrix movie's green matrix screen?

Well I did refer to it last -- at your special request.

Ok, ok, but you need to be more specific.

Well, everything has to be in balance -- no matter what shit is going down.

I don't see why or how?

No -- because you don't see the numbers.

So we're stuck in a revolving argument, getting nowhere.

It's an equation. All equations are circular. They have to balance. There can't, ultimately, be more or less.

I don't see why not.

once you see the relationship between one and zero.

Oh that.

Once you recognise and accept that numbers somehow have to interface with infinity.

Beep beep beep -- interface with infinity -- my ass.

Even your ass, if needs be.

But how -- that's like saying fire has to interface with snow, or oil with water?

Absolutely -- and it can do so biologically -- if needs be -- through the medium of life itself, or chemically, or emotionally, or even consciously.

Consciously? How?

As conscious energy -- but let's not go too far down that rabbit hole at this moment.

So... you believe

No 

You think...

No

You're asserting...

Better

Well, how the hell am I supposed to phrase it?

It ain't personal. I don't come into the equation. I don't matter. This is purely mathematical -- regardless of what I think, believe or assert. The proof, you may say, is in the pudding. Unless 0=1, unless the two sides add up, unless numbers or things can and do interface infinity, then we're stuck. 

How stuck?

Absolutely, completely and utterly stuck.

Er...

Stuck to the nth degree. So stuck that nothing will ever happen. Nothing will ever amount to anything more than zero or less than infinity.

So, what you're saying is that, unless I accept your ridiculous theory -- there'd never been any numbers less than infinity or more than zero?

Precisely. 

Not even one?

One would be zero -- you'd never know the difference -- unless you have infinity onboard as a kind of parallel trading portal where values can be determined and denoted.

Oh.

Yep. A bit like any trading portal. 

So -- we can't just fix values?

We can try - but doing so we start to deny infinity - and that has consequences. 

What kind of consequences?

Big and unavoidable ones.

Ok -- I think I get the message. So, you're saying Jesus the alleged Messiah was a big, unavoidable consequence of administrative or judicial overreach -- which, if I understand correctly, was the result of the elite's failure to understand the nature of reality?

You might be right or you might be saying too much.

How do you mean?

We don't know to what extent the so called "elite" understood the nature of reality. 

Uh?

They may have understood things perfectly. They may have wanted to test the system, or even to trigger a response.

Yes? You think so?

I don't know. These are possibilities. They may, alternatively, simply not have cared. They may have assumed, rightly or wrongly, that they could buy time -- that the consequences would take years to bite them in the ass, and so they didn't need to worry about them for now. Political short-termism -- you might call it.

That sounds fairly typical.

If you're talking about politicians.

I thought that's whom we're discussing.

It depends how "elite" your elite is.

How so?

At the very top -- they may know far more than you realise. They may have known that the consequences would be fairly catastrophic.

Catastrophic? I hardly see how you can say that if we're still being registered to this day -- in fact -- it's probably worse now than it's ever been.

True -- but whatever software update Jesus delivered is now deeply impregnated into the body consciousness of the masses. It could be incredibly subtle yet monumentally powerful.

Again -- I fail to see how. I mean -- there are millions of Christians but...

What's this got to do with Christians? I'm talking about numbers and software updates.

Oh.

I'm talking about the balance of matter and dot

Dot? What the hell's dot?

It's not matter -- is it?

No, I suppose not.

It's not anything much, is it?

No

But it's right at the heart of our civilisation now, isn't it?

Yes -- I suppose so.

You can't go far without encountering dots.

Like dot com, for example?

Or decimal points. Periods. Full stops. Any dot you like - even jpeg images. They're made of tiny dots. 

Oh.

You see?

Not really. 

Oh come on, dude.

But what's the dot got to do with matter, or whatever we were talking about?

What does the dot represent?

I dunno. I never gave it much thought.

Well think. This shit matters.

Eh... 

Turn left a bit.

Eh...

Now right.

Eh...

Back. Reverse.

Eh... No. I don't know.

Exactly. That's precisely what it represents.

What????

No. I don't know.

What???

No. I don't know. What could be more vital -- more important -- more valuable in the age of almost infinite information than the dot representing "no - I don't know" informational vacuum/ void, or time out.

Holy cow.

You see?

I'm not sure. Maybe I do. Maybe... But it's kind'a far out.

You bet it is.

Holy shit.

Try to avoid expletives -- they disturb your dot matrix.

My what?

Your field of consciousness -- which can be described as a dot matrix.

Holy...

cow. That's better, isn't it?

I suppose it is.

So there you 'ave it.

avit? -- a dotted h.

Correct. 

Except we use an apostrophe. 

That's right. But these are all merely variations on a theme. 

They are? You mean all types of punctuation are... 

basically dots - yes.

Holy sh..

cow!

So what's it all got to do with Jesus's birth -- if we're to close this thread in some meaningful way?

Good question.

You mean you don't know! 

The trouble is that infinity is never linear -- by definition.

So?

So, whatever happens when Jesus is born is never going to be easily recognisable in a cause and effect sort of way.

Well, how do your precious dots help save us from the cruel effects of political, administrative or jurisdictional overreach?

Don't you see?

No. I don't. 

Hold it.

What?

Your "No, I don't". 

Ok.

Hold it just there -- just like that.

For how long.

It doesn't matter -- just hold it -- if you want to know the answer.

Ok. I'm holding it.

Now -- don't move -- please, don't move.

I'm not moving. I'm holding it, as you asked.

We need a sign.

A what?!

A sign.

Oh God. You're insane.

Am I? I thought you were holding it.

Well I was, until you said something ridiculous. As soon as you start being insane I can hardly be expected to hold my mind steady -- can i? It naturally rejects and repels madness in any shape or form.

Excellent. Once again you've illustrated the nature of numbers in action -- and how the Jesus factor can upturn any equation, any set of numbers, just as soon as we're willing to allow a little insanity, a miniscule drop of infinity into our mind's operating system.

Oh God!

Yep. A little oh God - a little insanity - a little dotty weirdness, an arc, arch or parabola of infinity and your linear frame starts curling round - like the footballer kicking a banana shot and scoring an amazing goal.

Jesus Christ - I give up.

Poetic justice. I rest my case.

rebeing me in january

cast your self into

stone?

no

steel?

no

what?

that will do

huh?

that will do – the watchers have left

the watchers?

the watchers

have gone?

have gone

but who?

who

or what?

what

are the watchers?

well you ask

well?

Well… the watchers watch to ensure no one – traverses the bounds

what bounds?

the bounds

well?

the bounds

come on

of infinity

oh – continue

the bounds of infinity

of infinity? but where

where?

where are they?

the bounds?

yes

where are the bounds?

yes, where are the bounds?

of infinity

yes, where are the bounds?

don’t you see?

no, evidently not

where would they be

I don’t know

think – where would they be

i

don’t know?

don’t

well?

know

you see?

i see

you know?

yes, i

know?

know – the watchers

yes?

the bounds are where the watchers watch

ah

they are where the watchers watch

the bounds?

yes, the bounds

of what?

of what we see, of what

yes?

we know

the bounds

of what we see and know

ah

and now they’ve gone

indeed

so now we can cross

unopposed, and what?

what?

what can we do across the bounds?

i hardly know

no?

no – but yes – i… er we

we?

we can do infinity

do?

infinity, of course

but how, but

breathe – we can breathe the bounds and feel them with our breath

oh

we can feel the meaning, the rub, the moment of the breath as it

ah me

as it traverses the bounds, feelingly

ah me

feelingly – like a violin bow

a bow

back and forthing o’er violin strings

huh?

breathing back and forth o’er the bounds

the bounds?

the strings which mark the edge of

of?

of what we know

of what?

of consciousness

oh

oh – the beauty of the breath – feeling what

what?

what cannot be known

cannot?

until it’s felt

felt?

until it’s born anew

uh?

born anew

born?

anew

breathe, let’s breathe infinity

feelingly

let’s sense the bow

feeling back and forth

across the strings

of what might be

what may

what ought

let’s stay in the infinite

beyond it

beyond what

beyond bounds

let’s be the breath

snakesawing

backforthing

feelingly

letting be

boundlessly

unlocking

revealing the one

the all

contained within

accessed through

me

All that just to say…

All that, indeed, to create a ring to ward off evil.

A ring?

A circle, a ring – call it what you will.

Evil?

Not in the usual meaning, perhaps.

Then what?

For how else are we to access infinity if there be no beginning, no end? How to gain traction? We have to start with something emerging from nothing – like you yourself start as something emerging from nothing.

I do?

Of course – how else?

I rather thought I emerged from my parents.

Precisely – from nothing.

But…

Yes?

How can you call my parents “nothing”?

Well, your father is plus one, your mother minus one, or if you have a problem with that, simply reverse the plus and minus signs. Suffice it to say that they add up to nought, mathematically.

And yet it’s hardly fair to say they are “nothing”.

Here, in reality – yes – but here in reality is precisely nowhere of any value whatsoever.

Oh – I wouldn’t go so far.

I know – but still you’re failing to grab the bull by the horns.

I am?

Yes – for failing to allow, accept or acknowledge infinity is failing to embrace what is – and imagining or hoping, vainly, that it’s sufficient to focus instead on things.

Well, things without a doubt are significant.

And yet they amount to nought without the amniotic fluid of infinity encasing them.

Oh.

For things, without infinity, cannot beget things, no more can people.

Oh. I wouldn’t be so categorical.

No – you would insist, along with every other adherent to the cult of things, that things can and do somehow emerge from a void without rhyme or reason, and that life itself is just a happy or lucky combination of things, not to mention the fact that the realm of things we find ourselves in is resting on no thing whatsoever, expanding into no thing whatsoever, and is bound, sooner or later, to return to no thing whatsoever, when it runs out of thingfulness. What a lot of things you have to take for granted. What a lot of things you have to stack upon one another in your pyramid scheme of things – hoping I won’t go back to check the first entrants, the first level which, of course, I have already done, to my infinite satisfaction.

And what exactly does your infinite satisfaction reveal or yield?

Not what.

Not what?

It reveals precisely no thing – that is – it reveals or yields what is – the open system, the open field, unstopped, unstoppable

Er…

– which is infinity

I thought as much – which is not saying much, is it?

Um

Which is, in fact, saying precisely nought – if I am not mistaken.

As you evidently are – for how can nought be described as “precisely nought”?

Oh, stop splitting hairs.

Precisely, in terms of your scheme of things – or nought in terms of the vacuum, the void which you see all around until/ unless you learn how to engage the open system, the field of is – at which point that nought flips through itself – revealing infinity zipped within an infinitesimal decimal point.

So that’s where it was hiding all along.

Precisely.

And you think you can access the decimal point?

Access it?

Turn it around.

Around?

Or inside out?

Ah – now you’re talking. Of course I can – as you can too – if you be alive and human.

And if I’m not.

You won’t be able to resonate. You’d be like a cracked glass. You won’t hold frequency.

Oh.

But if you can, are and do – then welcome – infinity is, like Narnia, present, and merely awaits you to breathe life back into the kindling that is smouldering within.

Which sounds somewhat dangerous. Fire can burn. Fire can consume.

As indeed can infinity – but without it you face a danger no less perilous.

I do?

But of course.

Er…?

The danger of thinking and thinging yourself into oblivion and meaninglessness – which is precisely what you are doing right now, along with most of us humankind.

Oh.

So you get to choose. If you can handle 3D reality, and are content to push pieces around on a chess board – then continue as before. Your humanity is engaged and nothing I say or do can help you.

And if I can’t?

If you can’t handle 3D then you’ll have realised by now that nothing you say, think or do can, is or will make a difference.

Is make a difference?

It’s a test of your infinity – unless you can handle perceived mistakes how on earth are you going to escape the gravitational pull of 3D finity and engage infinity drive.

Oh.

Only when the breath is engaged. Only once and when you realise that you are dead until/ unless you do so.

Oh.

That things have reached a head – long since – and that syntax is the least of our concerns.

Oh.

For we are infinitely more than what we seem – or else we are precisely nought – as you so rightly said.

Oh.

So breathe this text, these words, the spaces between – breathe them or be damned.

Damned? Isn’t that a bit extreme.

Irrelevant. Rome is burning. Breathe yourself back into the mother ship of consciousness – or indeed be damned for all eternity.

Oh. Hell.

Bright indeed.

So they did - so they breathed until they felt the edge, felt the strings, felt the tug and pull, the other side of whatever is transmitted through that silent, electric intermediary – and the rest as they say – is history

history

history

apparently three yet almost certainly

one

I never had the chance to say i love you and deliberate, if you will, on the meaning of love in a world where things cannot ever, cannot possibly complete – unless/ until i breathe you back into thinglessness – which of course, dotted i is willing to do, even if I am not. 

Finis