The Mediator
This will be a digital brainmap. I will lay it out like a page of Talmud (page of learning, daily page, dairy page, daf yomi, page of the day)
I’m tired but I’m working. I care but I’m restless. Sounds flow into my ears and up to my brain. I’m wrong but I’m sorry. what it comes down to? everything’s gonna be quite all right
light flows in the window, bouncing off the couch i’m sitting against, and it looks red to me
the other one is smoking flicking looking at a cigarette with touch-nerves, little angelhairs glowing, lighting up – shakespeare says: what a piece of work is man; my mother says: you’re quite the piece of work; an old movie is sputtering frame-by-frame against the back-movie-screen of my inside-skull — brave but chickenshit — the images, the sounds distract me from my parallel thoughts — no one’s really got it figured out just yet — one hand in my pocket — what do I have in my pocket — magical ring of invisibility becomes the symbol of evil and wealth becomes the nuclear bomb becomes Hitler becomes the swiftly tilting planet becomes Galileo dropping balls from a high tower — he thinks they get there at the same time — the earth rises up to meet them — one gets there first, i’m almost sure — “I wanna be old some day. If I wait long enough, it’s ll actually happen. Ben Goldwasser. MGMT. Live from Abbey Road.
I use my finger as a q-tip, cleaning out my ear — never put anything in your smaller than your elbow — a lesson with a joke — kids hanging off of trees in the special kindergarden playground — oh baby, with maimwinged raven mnemnosyne, it is the now that matters most. I don’t think about the construction of sentences, they appear full-formed (like Wisdom) in the mindeyes, culled from my own raven’s memory.
The Center of This Piece This Page is this >> I am the Mediator. Standing midway between Res Interna and Res Externa (Res means thing, but what I’m really looking for is Place.) Playa? Plaza? Maybe better. But I sit there, under a banyan tree, letting oceans flow through me.
Reading Ulysses last night. The distracted and scattered stream of consciousness. A literary effect that mimics the world > an ocean full of plastic and trash > ever thinking >> absorbing and commenting and occassionally acting and doing > I hould go through and code Ulysses for thoughts (high thoughts and low thoughts, digressions, reflections, memories, code the ten thousand different thoughts), and then actions and events, the doings, the stuff of theater, the way the outside world is revealed to us, the thoughts hidden, like ice below the water (what great ship will scrape against those edges and sink perilously into the Ocean Wide? Another story equally clly stsrange pressents itself of a large steamship dragging the dead body of Jehova across the Great Atlantic.
This computer is strange. Image of action, not a typewriter, it cannot present the letters as fast as i write them, shift-keys slows down the presentation of my thoughts — i like this blog it is the inner atlas, or the camera obscura of my being — lesser man in the world, great-man-god in my mind — what a piece of work is man — hamlet magical projection — irreducible – how did shakespeare do it — i think part of it had to do with theater — the immediate realization that these thoughts and words would be shoved into a real live dancing human — and somehow able to do it — when I use to write theater, I would sit there and act out the parts myself.
Fancy clockwork. Economics is the happy dance. Thinking about the game-theory rules of the crowded dance at the Disco Biscuits > one person moves, everyone has to move > an infinite unstable chaotic equilibrium > hard game when you stand still but an easy game when you’re dancing > derived a series of rules > if they’re moving backwards, let them go, if they’re moving sideways let them go, if they’re moving forwards, do not let them go > do not give up your entire space >> if you see an open space in front of you, take it >> if you find a space you like, start dancing (thereby taking up temporary space / more space then you would otherwise, like an electron along its many possible paths > the dancing electron > quantum uncertainty says the thing is in many places and all places at once > time is an incredibly tricky thing > it is real, it is not just a measure, and it is thick and malleable, some sort of strange function of the light-field we float in >> pervasive energy of the universe > the big bang is still happening > quintessence > the very small and the very large, joined together at the bottom of the black hole > the uncertainty of choice, the ego choosing, the mediator, the decider, the legislature and the executive, decision and action, and regulator
pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. i’ll gladly pay you tomorrow for a hamburger today. incredible triptastic playgrounds. alien spaceships landing at bonnaroo, who wants to for a ride around the center of the galaxy? the milky way someone’s cow tipped the milk > looking at the morning sky, not usually seen, beautiful blues, thin crescent moon, and the morning star, lightbringer, wandering lover, purple skies, hanging far out there in the deeply endless dark, now glowing with the airscattered light – why is the sky blue – why is the grass green – we have answers to these questions now – the great answerer — i dreamed that all my unanswered would be answered at the gates of heaven by God himself — what is the implication? That we stand before the Gates of Heaven, and God is Always Whispering To Us the Secret Answers to Everything? That we must live while we live and sleep while we sleep?
Strange dreams last night, and many hours enwrapped in a cacoon of blankets — in Elsewhere in North Carolina there is a room upstairs in which sits a huge birdsnest – or was that Sesame Place — where everybody knows your name – know that was a bar — with a snarksome waitress, a dumb-hick bartender (precursing Kenneth the Page), and Sam and Diane but I remember Sam and Rebecca. Frasier was there too, and Norm, and George? The Fat man. Anyway.
I’m a what, i’m a what, I’m a newspaper man, and I get my ideas from the newspaper stand. Any little article will do. Hey now drummer boy, sound the beat, we march to Ilios, gird your loins, put down your toys, and hold close to Patroclos. Two killers stare at each other. One says do not kill me. The other says “why not? for I will die as well.” In White Noise, one professor says to another professor, why not murder, it is the answer, it delays the reaping. Ahhh ahhh ahhhh fire mind fiery mind, I could go on for days, reciting the letters of the alphabet for a black folk-singer on the stage of the Keswick Theater — where I saw another play once of the Velveteen Rabbit with the Death of Scarlet Fever and the Burning and the Resurecction (You’re A Real Rabbit Now) and Mum the Dragon of the Dragon’s Tale — saw it in Kindergarden and was freakishly scared and then as a 6th Grader, was the King of that Kingdom Terrified of the Dragon, and had to give away my son, the Effeminate Prince (had seen Monty Python by then, at Corey Raynes’ house, I remember liking the Killer Rabbit) to Celia Ellenberg, Lady Lou the Dragonslayer. Writing an email years later to A.M.Steinberg about dragonslayers and the requirement to go slay dragons. Wondering if there were any dragons left. Being terrified of the Jabberwocky.
Eating mushrooms that make me sick > laying in my bed and losing english >> repeating the words Scarlilock Mums (Scarlet Fever + Jabberwock + Mum the Dragon + Mumps) > a stand in for all my Fears (The Dragon and the Plague — Revelations?) Every book I’ve read, every TV show I’ve ever seen, every song I’ve heard, every person I’ve ever met. All you touch and all you see is all you’re life will ever be. Pink Floyd said that. Kelila playing Blowing in the Wind on the stage of my high school gym. Right now, I look up Kelila’s name – it means crowned. Right now I look up Kelila’s life – on the Internet, nothing is ever lost – I am not friends with her – should i become friends just to see what she is doing?? strange move, but what do I have to lose? did it done. saw some pictures of the ex as well. heartpang there and confusion. dangerous move, writing that, but must be honest, must be. Others have been invited to share this psychonaut excursion — the etymology of words is interesting to me — helps me see what is contingent and what is essential — which words have been echoing since — since when? when was protoindoeuropean spoken? I go to wikipedia. Learned Hand is the article of the day. Great name for a judge. Great name. What was I going to look up? Oh yes. Protoindoeuropean. 4th Millenium BC, more popular 5th Millenium BC, interesting enough.
This scylla ends. Mediate more. I go to read about the ancient speakers. My lover comes (I hope) to love me. I must bathe myself and make ready. Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes? Are those the words? Abbey Abbey Road. Strawberry Fields Forever. Maxwell’s Silver Hammer. Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Heartsclub Band Wants You to Enjoy the Show. Adieu adieu we want some tea for two? Sound of Music rumpabump rumpabump, never sang no Christmas Carols, Rock of Ages was my wintersong. Summer Solstice, White Nights is coming, the Days Are Long, but Dark Will Make its Comeback — the Hiders, the Secret Lovers, they long for Night to Hide Them – but in the Great Light of Summer, All Good Things Go (meant to write GROWW.)
The influence of gaslight or electric light on the growth of paraheliotropic trees 