You Are Here: Post 234

by Bongo Iscariot  (make me a channel of yer badassness...)

The caduceus paints a thousand worlds. Thousand is an ineffable number, kin to the Arabic convention of 72.  Innumerable.  The Shield of Mercury is a manifold - a complete picture of the transfinite paradoxi-cosmos and threefold illusion of Infinity.

- something happened (code)
- something is happening (threshold)
- something is going to happen (certainty)

Please note that of these values, only certainty is concrete.


The past, whatever it is, operates as code, beneath perception.  The simple metaphor is the impossible conundrum of recorded history.  There can be little doubt that something happened - but there is no agreement about what.  So, to investigate history through post print media and oral tradition is divine analog to the amateur user examining an unfamiliar source code or hardware.  Such an investigation is quit in dismay, flounders, or becomes the foundation of a new program and demonstrates that a meaningful appreciation of the events of history trend the pupil into the realm of social programmer as Guru, Scientist or Statesman.

The threshold of the now is equally elusive, and we are grateful to the proverbial thousand monkeys typing for an apt parallel - a zillion kids playing Super Mario.  The monstrous past is the throbbing nexus of code: the hardware/software as design and product. Heaven and Logos, paper and typewriter, NES and game cartridge.  The zillion kids are the mad monks that ignite the design into simultaneous glory - all the game playing - all at once.  Omni Code Hyper Flash. 


To play a video game (or read or type) is precisely the same as to pray. The desired result is that the book being read (in ardent prayer) the babble being typed (in sufi abandon) the game being pwned (in android bliss) will at one moment become the focus of a comprehensive devotion.  Thus realized, the hidden code emerges as a spontaneously conscious and self reliant monad. Eden itself.

The side effect of meditation is not stasis and extinction but explosion.  Union with the eternally fashionable now does not provide the advertised result of self-immolation.  When truly reached, the Now State, which is Utopia, shatters the environment with the emergence of code and internalizes that code as elastic schizoid yoga-gnosis.  Very simply, to meditate (extinguish the self into the One), which is also to mediate (achieve total Media awareness), is to perfectly flatter the moment of supreme beginning - when God first thought of God and burst into a river of glimmering stardust.

This much is certainty. The Artist is Bornless.  All that ever happened hasn't happened yet.  All that ever happened is The Future.  Bring it on Baby.

The Numbers

The triple fallacy can be nicely described by a three number sequence. We stress this trio is not linear, nor a linear spiral but rather spiral and non-linear, hinting at the perpetual expansion of an infinite number of impossibly tightly packed coils out into solid space.

The sequence is -1, 0, 1, and replicates a series of modalities.

(-1, 0, 1)
      (0, 1, 2)
          (1, 2, 3), etc, ad infinitus cantorum.      

Each mode has a unique value, but is also a perfect transposition of the original monad -1, 0, 1.

Monad

-1 is code, the unknown past and cypher to the total user.
0 is threshold.  Now -  the total user is internalized into the negative monad as part of its code.  Death.  The raindrop falls into the sea.
1 is certainty.  Tomorrow -  because the total user can not dismantle its uniqueness - bleeding, blending and binding into every corner of creation dreams will dare to go.  The sea is but a raindrop.  Boundless Bliss. 

Dyad

The second mode (0, 1, 2) is the model of phallo-centric exegesis and paternal Godhead.

0 is the Almighty as the Code of Torah. 
1 is the emergence of the Tree of Life and the Eden that surrounds it as the threshold, or platform.
2 is Adam, Eve and all subsequent degeneration.  Certainty.  God knows - it happened.

Nevertheless, the dyad is still dependent on the original model.

0 is -1. The code (Torah) is indecipherable.
1 is 0.  The threshold (knowledge) is ineffable.
2 is 1.  We are One People in Death (to be born of sexual union is to die - certainty).

This second mode is as high as any group mind can climb.  All races, creeds and communes, all sub-environments are defined within the boundary of 0, 1, 2 - which is called Reality or Doubt.

Trinity

The third spiral (1, 2, 3) is the Maternal Matrix - the Material World - and is already beyond Death.

1 is the code - cosmic oneness that impossibly integrates an ecclesia of atypical monads.
2 is the threshold - the Matrix.  Something with an outside that all are somehow safe within.
3 is the inevitable and persistent struggle for balance between these forces and their special passions. 


In mystery, the Trinity is the mode of the Roman Empire and of Catholicism - which is the only system of thought that proposes the equal sacrifice of man and woman, child and mother, alike.  The Roman Method has no group alliance, no nationality or ethic. It is religion in the purest essence - the honest apprehension of what has happened and what must happen.   

Pagan cyclic systems demand sacrifice because they fail to mediate doubt.  This is not purjorative.  Gaia and nature based sentiment is childish - it doesn't have enough history to mandate an adult attitude toward the past.

Consider the Mayan fascination.  These days, the Mayans are celebrated for their super-advanced maths, with little or no regard for the brutal juveneillia that is their ruination.  They are brilliant, but what is the need these nature loving midget Einsteins of yore feel so deeply to motivate their killing maths?

The need to mitigate their own evil.   

The Pagan mind is ever fleeing its own murderous past.  This denial runs so deep that the horrors of paganism are ritually celebrated to this day as a form of beauty and widely promoted as the sole source of sacred knowledge.  Ugh!  What a crusty botch is our Nature.

The clear religious mind, the factual mind, the Thomist mind, heralds the passing of the individual from supreme inchoate monad (-1, 0, 1) through natural pagan stupidity (0, 1, 2) and into Immortal Gnostic Trinity (1, 2, 3) and onward.  The continued popular insistence of natural divinity is a hallmark of Thomist tolerance, which knows the Natural world is illusory, harmless and finally prosaic.  Not at all divine.  Even the Church is perceived as but a side effect of Trinity, a kind of unnecessary evil that serves as threshold of a teaching designed to exact nothing less than absolute freedom from within. 

The Roman Christian is not an astrotheological subject, but a literal, Material Astronomy Domine -  resurrected into Christ, loved by the Mother and absolved the indignity of Law toward a perfect Light.     

Fuckin' eh.

2001: A Space Audio I See

In stark contrast to his social heritage, Stanley Kubrick made a mighty effort to elucidate the Eternal Roman Trinity and to assure of its reliability.

Our first example is the institution of Law at The Dawn of Man.  Kubrick explains: Law is the after image of Murder.  Mankind begins at the moment of the first murder and subsequent social behavior and human advancement apes this action from behind the mask of its Laws.

When the killer monkey throws his new tool in the rage of original sin, we are treated to both the extension of shame as media and the infamous leap of faith that is the first demand of its salvation.  The tool of murder becomes the word of law becomes the growth of its media into space and beyond the infinite. Yet, in the Light of Beauty, this act is not merely a continuation of sin but also one of deepest regret and contrition.  Bad Monkey is sorry.  Sorry he ever touched that void and made his hand unto an instrument of Death.  Dreadfully sorry that he killed his friend - with whom he will forever self identify.  And so he builds a world to stand upon, a cosmos to dream in and at last a technology - to resurrect his forgotten victim at the End of Time and be forgiven his transgression of Love.

Wow!

Tom is Tall

In his next work, Kubrick details the anthropomorphic life arc of the Son of Man with profound pathos and humor.  Clockwork's Alex de Large is a real human.  He is not evil at all, simply free.  Free to realize his unique nature without oral shame or literary guilt because he accepts as fact the Murder of Christ.

This interpretation exculpates Alex's actions and explains why Kubrick eliminated the resolution of the novel, much to the consternation of the regressive Anthony Burgess.

The assault on the drunkard is a direct response to the filth of nature as excremental decay and death - typified as spiritual nostalgia.  Later, when the old bugger and his cronies turn tables on Alex, the re-emergence of pagan history as the New Age is described.  For Alex, this come-uppance is a temporary indignity, just as the New Age Movement (as unraveled by Zeitgeist, Wicca or Neo-Orientalism) is but the death burble of Nature as it succumbs to the individual will of the Aquarian Warrior.

The rape of the writer and his wife is also a responsive mechanism - this time against authority and its material industry - the book, which as it opens, is the vulva fly-trap.  Think of it like this.  Suppose you found out you were the literary figment of a twisted, burned out figurehead of Law and trapped inside the mouldy pages of his paltry design.  Whoever you may be, man woman or child, any reaction short of Alex's is sub-humanoid.

The expurgation of Burgess's finale, which excused him to disavow the film, is an excercise in infidelity.  Alex mellows out and blends into the scenery of history as a family man of standard moral coding.  Kubrick understood that this ending identified Burgess, within his book, as the stand in for not only the savaged writer, but all of Alex's victims.  Kubrick allows Alex to become himself once and again, without regard for a past, a history, a gordian knot, a murder and even his own death in a great fall.

Fuck it me droogies, let's go for a drive.

St. Francis of A Sue Me, Why Dontcha

At long last, a thousand words and evermore, we see the hyper-dox in its Triple Magesty.  The Shining is the Shield of Mercury.  Dancing the spiral at the speed of thought.  The speed of quicksilver darkness and delight, purple in the candle light.

Danny Torrance: Killer. Droog Alex, Pvt. Joker: Killers. HAL 9000, Media, All of Us.  Stone Killers to the boiling core.  

And me.  Less than Zero but Something.  Nothing and Everything at Once.  Everything and Everything Else. The Paradox. The Doctor. Doc.  A regular Momma's Boy.

Bring me the Game.

Gravity kill and Time define, but never will you me unwind.  Strike my heart with hardened steel.  I doubt that I shall deign to feel your barbs and lashes aimed at me, while I swing happy in my tree.  And should you burn it to the ground, nowhere here will I be found - because I am entirely gone to swing into another one.


I am Bongo Iscariot the Wandering Jude.

I Am the Future - And You Are Here...