Praying for the Impossible

Praying for the Impossible

 

Every single thing you ever ask of AMA, pray, complained, will be answered in the most courteous way. The mustard seed stands for the infinitesimal, the mushroom spore, the thing that is infinitesimally unlikely. Some things really are impossible. Because they are unthinkable. We can never be tempted because the universe herself can't think of the unthinkable. Yet.

An infinitesimal means infinitely small. Chance. The worst odds of all times. It would take a miracle. If you can ask for it you CAN have it and actually do have it. If only you knew: every promise is honored eventually, every wish upon a star or birthday cake granted. For is something is asymptotically impossible to happen, in an infinite universe, it will happen at some time and some place exactly once. And once that happens, the adds improve. Whether if withing ten million years are right this second, every dream, hope, wish, beg, plea, request, bargain, deal, exchange will be answered TO THE LETTER. So my friend, don't be afraid to dream. You will achieve it in SOME WAY this life time, that is the mustards seed mushroom spore infinitesimal. And every lifetime more and more. You grow more aligned to your god till you get everything instantly. Then you surpass him and are under the Game, the AYA, the unnamable unnumerable players of the same. Don't be afraid. Ask and you will receive. Immediately in some infinitesimal way, and eventually, ALL THE WAY.

Every time this happens, the universe grows, and something unthinkable becomes thinkable for the first time. A mustard seed. A Mushroom spore. Somewhere some time it has been answered. Keep praying so it builds resonance over time!

ALCHEMY

Al-Chemistry comes from Egypt

 

The Egyptians of the Chem river studied the ISIS, their river goddess, and learned the art of chemistry. Chem is a river of change. Heraclitus flux. It ever changes AND is ever the same.

Egypt was attacked by a mysterious people called "the sea people." The defeated them only after 100 years of foreign rule. Historians have no clue who these sea people are. But you and I know of course.

In the desert? A sea? Yes, the desert is a sea. We may swim in it as water or walk on it as sand depending on which way we want to move at the time.

Dehydrated water is sand. ALL water ALWAYS has a mineral residue. It is not that minerals get mixed in and boil out. The minerals themselves ARE water. Minerals are water already. We can turn water into sand and walk around it Jesus style. No big deal. We can pull a full river out of a single rock. All earth, all mountains, all sand, all rocks are FULL of water. Rocks devoid of water, electrically charged, is dust. Death. But only in hell does the shifting of dust seem like dust in the wind. The dust is in the human being, and that is the hidden water around all dust all the time.

Every snowflake is unique, every sand particle is unique. Each has its shape, and always will take a mode or overtone of that, and no other single drop of water can freeze into such an angel, such a nerve cell, nor can you ever manufacture a sand that is the same shape. Unless you teleport the sand to more than one place, existing in multi dimensions at once. Every single drop in the ocean remains an individual. Bring it up to heaven and it becomes a snow angel. Bring sand down to hell and it because completely transparent glass. The Saints in revelation worshipped Yahweh on an ocean of glass, throwing their burning gold crowns at him again and again. They are the same thing, mineral water. All water is mineral water. All minerals have water in them. Moses could knock a rock and make it well up not by miracle of god, but MAGIC of God, known to the Egyptians, who converted their lead into gold, the alchemist's trick. Their pyramids appear to be sand to us. They are actually individual drops of water, frozen in time. Alchemical inversions. Nature does this all the time. The deserts don't hid or occult or contain a hidden city. Every sand is a person and place in the shifting sands. To the sand, we move at the speed of light, each person, and we take the sand and dust with us on our way.

Every parasite pays its way. Mosquitos sometimes spread disease. But they are vampires. Vampires turn blood into wine. The viruses inside get turned inside out into inoculations. Mosquitos are needles and shots that itch a bit, that is the body reacting to the MEDICINE every mosquito gives with a bite. Every mosquito bite saved your life. Their spit is medicine. Semen and fresh water and spit is "ab" as the God Enki called his being, the ME, the crystallic logic that seems to move in water, with his "Mes" true from the Ab-Zu touching every single reality. Not the blood stream. That is Mary, the ocean, the mother of all. Inside the blood stream is a river that works exactly in reverse, and its substance is ether. The flora and fauna of the guts is the flora and fauna of the world. The two are one. We are not on earth but walking through our own intestines. Worm holes. Trips through space. Hyperspeed. Hyperreality. As above, so below. As without, so within.

Ice can convert into iron.

Death is passing and eternity is staying. We always do both all the time. Our body is covered in dead skin. Some animals only see our plasma. They call us ghosts. Others just see our skin. They call is Djinn. They don't see the fire of our blood, they see the sandstorm of our circulating skin which also sheds in as well as out. Skin grows in two directions at once and is ALWAYS alive.

The Oak was the first tree. Every tree is on fire. Every single bush is on fire. It is sacred when we can SEE this. Look microscopically at wood and you will see it is literally on fire in tiny ways all the time.

Batteries are polar. They charge themselves in opposite directions. All batteries are an endless source of power. All machines are perpetual motion machines. All life is eternal. The Proto-Life, protozoa by definition never died, but is alive and immortal for all time. The universe herself is that protozoa. The alchemists call her call her Uroborus. She never dies or can. She can only split. And every splitting is a merging Of DNA. Mitosis works in two directions. Literal ALL writing is DNA. Is ME. All writing is a spell. The hollowed out space is hallowed. A void is ALWAYS filled with ETHER. Or spirit. Cancer is not a disease but the converting of the body into a god. It is a lucky thing to die this way, if you only knew! The Indians smoked the peace pipe and became gods. We at this lower place become cancerous too. We don't die at all. We just suffer a bit. There are literally billions of cancerous cells in your body. Your immune system converts them into healthy mutations. Every single DNA in your body edits itself and writes more ALL the time.

Every single drop of water added to the ocean expands into plasma and fills the ENTIRE thing. Every single drop is an ocean unto itself.

And so on.

Personal Update

Who do I Believe In? Books! (an update on my life)

 

I'm a book worm. I evolved from one anyway. I eat their souls now rather than their paper medium. Unless I am committing a sacred vow to my flesh: then I will pulp and swallow a glyph of magic on a piece of paper. Like bubble gum, parts of them stay in our digestive track for twenty years. I told a friend the intestines are the world servant. Alexander conquered the world and died because he cut his thread, the guardian knot, instead of untying it. Secret this: every single string, even cut, has an invisible gossamer between the two. String is eternal. Atropos didn't know this fatal fact. The part of you your mother owns forever she will take back, in reverse of all the things you did in this life before a death, and she will take a tax for every layer of life, every cut string, so long as you are still bothering to die. You need not of course. My translation of the Gospel of Thomas has Jesus say rightly, "whomsoever discovers the secret meaning of these sayings shall never taste death." I got to the bottom of Jesus.

Some people say I pick on him but that's just to wake you sleepers up. I learned all from him. He bowed to me, I stepped on his back, and climbed up the next rung. Who was Emerson. Then Nietzsche. Then Kenneth Burke. I am returning now to celebrate the eternal life of my friend, Piers Anthony, whose Xanth series, in the person and seed of "Heaven Cent" arrived in the hands of this little monster – for I blamed myself for my parents divorce, I am a monster, and became obsessed with all the monsters of the world … well Dolph the main character can change into any monster he wants. That is his magical talent. And he attracts a lot of sexy adult women. He was a child of nine. Same as me when I found that book, or Anthony Found me out. Thirty some years prior. Wow!

Jillian bought me a Monster Manual for Christmas. I am studying it tonight while listening to music. All these monsters exist in some dimension or plane of reality, for facts and fictions are both etymologically "fashioned things" and as everything that exists also exists within me, I am the dungeon of a bestiary of beasts, every mythological creature to ever exist. I remember my childhood now! I LOVED this stuff.

Wrote a letter to Piers now that I am for a moment smiling and up. Before I fall back into sleep and depression. Writing what I can. Tongue is on fire with the burning dove and robin red breasts phoenix of my every song. That snail in the shell, its skull, the snail my tongue, with his antennas that hear so many vibrations, the inspiration called telepathy, for ever world ever described in a novel or religion actually exists … but I am more tired then I sound.

Natalie my first born and most successful child, aspiring goddess, special needs for special being, is being honored with a reward of student of the month. Tomorrow at one, I will join her. Am I the only who sees the goddess she soon will reveal herself to be? What is called a curse or worse by those in hell is the trembling of an angel before she falls up into the sky as a deity of the greatest heights. I see through her disguise. I am honored she chose me and Sherry of all people to be her parents. I hope one day to be worthy of you. Remember me! Bring me too!

I am reading Piers Anthony's latest Xanth novel, Three Novel Nymphs. Reading the monster manual from Lama Jamyang Jigmy (silly Jilly). I will send out a valentines song on the fourteenth. A song for my wives Jillian and Sherry, the same person in different lifetimes.

Going to see they might be giants in April with good friend Anna. Lots to look forward to. I love the moments I am up. When I am down?

But what is darkness but light we are blind to? Every black hold is actually a white whole when seen from above rather than below. With higher eyes, every happy moment of our lives was with an angel or god joining us. Enthusiasm! AMA, I am ecstatic with my existence today! My spring and summer came a little early this year. Did some spring cleaning today.

I keep my todo filled. The busy bee forgets her sorrows! And lives in a room layered in golden sweetness. True Gold. Edible Gold. The heart of the lion is a comb of honey, for within the strong honey-blonde lion such sweetness … so sweet. I Daniel in the lions den, this area, with all those sunny golden honey lions sleeping next to me, often in the forms of the two cats, Mouth and Munch AMA gave our house … but I am laughing! I feel childish and alive today. I am naked as a tot with the One I Love in another plane of being. This lower body feels their bliss. Every layer of existence bleeds into the next. From hell, the government is a failure, world news is a terror, this obscene MAYA of mere seem. When you put on my AMA goggles, you will see that every terror, every obscenity, ever injustice, is a loving beautiful act of god … Her name is Comos, beauty, and Whitman, who is what Odin became when he emanated himself in the states, well, he told us Americans we must all be a KOSMOS. He ought to know. Odin's twin is Ymir, Tuiso, twin, he sacrificed his mortal side and made a universe of it. God and Giants. So we all are. The body is a giant. Mattria. The heart is a God. AMA. Ymir comes back to be Loki, just Odin again, his shadow being.

I could explain these myths all day. The Christian and Hebrew too, the Indian, the Norse. And I myself write myths I don't share with you. I write about eight more times than I share!

Take care, Caretaker!

88

"Usury"

Usury

 

God is Just. Ma-at balances all. Her laws are the original for the ten commandments. She is Lady Justice, as we imagine her on the scale, and Daniel the prophet learned from her his vision of a last Judgment. Like circumcision, and monotheism itself, the Jews learned this FROM the Egyptians. Not OUR Egypt. The extensive records we have fully intact mention nothing whatsoever of the fantastical and exaggerated stories of the Bible. We could call it pure fiction, lala land, the land of nod (dreams), and so other dimensions seem to us. That is, our Jews are aliens. As we all are. From a parallel universe. Surely, Yahweh wished his line, which he himself had sex with Eve to make Cain, and Adam made Seth after his own image, these are scripturally precise passages. The Jews wont to put there seed around ever star and upon ever piece of sand, which at our level looks like a planet.

Joseph ascended to great fame through no worth of his own. Yahweh made him "lucky" as Tinsdale rightly translated the word, and it really means "handsome" or "charming." He used his power of divination to usuriously tax all surrounded nations. Inside trading. He would know about the seven years and seven years. This, my friends is cheating, even if, ESPECIALLY if a god gets involved. Therefore, the Jews had to pay back what they STOLE from Egypt. Hence the slavery of the Jews. Fully deserved. They had to pay their due.

So, Usury, the BETE NOIR of Ezra, who in is mantic and ecstatic revelations in his Radio Speeches, which literary critic Howard Bloom recommends people first read, spoke in mania, for the poet was like all poets bipolar, and the US put him in bedlam against the law, illegally inturned for twelve years. Ezra never broke down. Never apologized. But in his old age, he felt guilty and repentant. So it seems! He died with one blue eye open: a wink, and window in to the REAL magic he has done, and how the States OWE him much more than they will ever be able to pay.

I will say more later.

Every dollar we earn is invested with our power and love, care, or crea. Everything you own will come back to you. If it ever leaves, it brings more back to you. Giving to the poor is the true inside deal. Giving away everything without exception is the way to be actually rich. Not rich in friends, rich in love, rich in God's supposed blessing. I mean, you are sending your people out to conquer the world. Some of those servants you give 500 will earn 500 more. Some you give a dollar two, they bury it in the ground. The rich get richer, the poor get poorer. What you own will always come back to you with greater wealth for you to own. If you wrap your mana in jars, the maggots will get them. Bread, the breadwinners money, is blood, and must keep circulating. As you spend it out, it REMAINS yours. Blood and money are literally one thing. If you squint. If you see through the lie of common sense and the obvious.

In the grand scheme of thing, nobody can steal, nobody can steal the truth and lie, nobody can disguise their actual ugliness. God is Just. Maat, Lady Justice, balances all. And the "Final Judgment" happens in fact every single day!

As for Ezra, one day I will introduce him to you. He is a part of the literary tree of our genius of American genealogy: Cotton Mathers, the founding fathers, the oversoul with his blue eyes the ocean in the sky, Emerson, and everybody who learns from him. A line. A tradition. An unbreakable chain of being. We have a hook in heaven. Emerson through that hook into the eye of heaven. His leavened bread takes the fall afflatus down for those who know how to dine on heavenly loaves of heavenly bread, the AMA-inspired divine books written by our own American Fathers.

Pound for Pound, we shall have him!

The Body of Influence

The Body of Influence

 

 

From "The Allays of Master Play"

 

The Body of Heaven is like a Master who told each of her servants to build her a home. The lazy one worked grudgingly and cut corners, thinking, "My master is rich and has enough already." The good servant enjoyed the work, and studied intently, and threw his heart into his labor, such that his master caught the passion and helped him build, and soon everybody made a mansion out of what was to be only a summer home.

In the end, the master said to the lazy servant, "The house you built is now your home. I am setting you free, and you may retire here." To the good servant, she said the same.

Daniel Christopher Williston June

 

 

From "Kosmos"

… Who having considered the body finds all its organs good and parts good,

Who, out of the theory of the earth and of his or her body understands by subtle analogies all other theories,

The theory of a city, a poem, and of the large politics of these States;

Who believes not only in our globe with its sun and moon, but in other globes with their suns and moons,

Who, constructing the house of himself or herself, not for a day, but for all time, sees races, eras, dates, generations,

The past, the future, dwelling there, like space, inseparable together.

Walt Whitman

 

 

From "Nature"

Then shall come to pass what my poet said; "Nature is not fixed but fluid. Spirit alters, moulds, makes it. The immobility of bruteness of nature, is the absence of spirit; to pure spirit, it is fluid, it is volatile, it is obedient. Every spirit builds itself a house; and beyond its house a world; and beyond its world, a heaven. Know then, that the world exists for you. For you is the phenomenon perfect. What we are, that only can we see. All that Adam had, all that Caesar could, you have and can do. Adam called his house, heaven and earth; Caesar call his house, Rome; you perhaps call yours, a cobler's trade' a hundred acres of ploughed land; or a scholar's garret. Yet line for line and point for point, your dominion is as great as theirs, though without fine names. Build, therefore, your own world. As fast as you conform your life to the pure idea in your mind, that will unfold its great proportions. A correspondent revolution in things will attend the influx of spirit.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

Because I could not stop for Death –

He kindly stopped for me –

The Carriage held but just Ourselves –

And Immortality.

 

We slowly drove – He knew no haste

And I had put away

My labor and my leisure too,

For His Civility –

 

We passed the School, where Children strove

At Recess – in the Ring –

We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –

We passed the Setting Sun –

 

Or rather – He passed Us –

The Dews drew quivering and Chill –

For only Gossamer, my Gown –

My Tippet – only Tulle –

 

We paused before a House that seemed

A Swelling of the Ground –

The Roof was scarcely visible –

The Cornice – in the Ground –

 

Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet

Feels shorter than the Day

I first surmised the Horses' Heads

Were toward Eternity –

 

Emily Dickinson

On Universal Heat Death and the All

"Low-level heat death" as an end game for the universe is rhetorical babble.

When matter breaks down finer and finer, life forms will become smaller and smaller. The total amount of information in the world is only growing. Death is always and only a way to more life.

The Living see life. The Dead see death. Let the dead bury their own dead and let the living bury their own living.

For if a seed dies and goes in the ground, it will never grow. Only a seed the selfishly insists on itself, its own needs, its own requirements, survives. Grows, thrives, and flourishes, and feeds the nations. A self-serving self-loving seed that never died.

And yet even death is simply a mode of life, a hibernation, a means unto more life.

All Roads Lead Home.

What but the smallest quark contains a squintillian universes within it, as big and as important as ours?

Life unto life, flame unto flame. All dust lives and contains all the gods and all people in miniature. The serpant who licks dust and eats death is the uroborus, who eats the fruit of life and lives forever.

We cannot see the life forms that live in the sun. The people who live in the sun. Nor they us. We have not yet made contact.

In all its glory, the earth is its own sun, to a certain wavelength of people. They see us as the greatest star. Pluto himself is a radiant supernova.

In this life we see but part and fancy it the whole.

But everything is everything, this is also that.

Your conception into existence was the spawning of a new kosmos, a new universe, a million gods and God who all together and individually are You.

You are a gift to all other universes, and may trouble them or bless them, but you will enrich all of them in turn, and they you.

Life is a Game everybody wins in the end, and keep on winning unto greater and greater games.

Your Self is a Name none may say but you. A whole language. You are that holy spirit. On earth now we learn common languages and internalize other holy spirits to speak with others.

With every word we utter we create worlds. Beings. Life. Realities. Every seed shall grow!

A Squib on Language and Experience: The meanings of “Meaning”

A Squib on Language and Experience: The meanings of "Meaning"

 

A meaning is a relationship. We have the capacity for memory because experiences when repeated as memories, a past event with a SENSE of context, such as its priorness and hence perhaps its relationship with future experience, which we also remember in the past anticipating in the future, so the past implies the future already.

Nothing is INHERENTLY meaningless, only rhetorically so. We may call an experience "meaningless" so we invest lest time in studying it and exploring the shapes of its event, the details of its experience. In principle, whatever CAN be experienced we have evolved the capacity TO experience, to consciously TOUCH in the dimensions of intimate contact of the mindbody, we may use to open up or close down other related experiences.

An experience as conscious event is related to NEEDS and hence has a value or in-built e-VALUE-ation based on the pleasures and pains of need-fulfilment. There can be no suffering or pleasure outside of a NEEDING ORGANISM. Such "experiences" would be "meaningless" because they do not relate to what NEEDS meaning and MAKES meaning: a living mind.

Needs are the Essence of an Existence. The essence shapes the development, or learning, of a memory-forming mind that may orient the being of the mindbody toward aspects of the All that give a better or worse fit for a given set of NEEDS.

A being that lacked NEED would not EX-ist, or stand out, it would SUB-sist, or lay under, and this passively, it would conform to living agents, or other non-willing beings that happen to take on a difference-making motion, or commotion; since its bliss or happiness did not depend on anything external, it could be said to be indifferent, or "happy either way," which I suspect is the way most "dead" matter is — that is to say, blissfully alive, just passive. So, when a man strikes iron with a hammer, some religions do believe the iron suffers. I would ask only why that being would invest the energy in creating suffering, since suffering is an interpretation added on to an original experience, which, lacking a needset, would lack the capacity for suffering as such. Suffering is a conscious experience, an investment in energy … but to no purpose? Nothing comes from nothing. If a being is going to bother to invest in a suffering or in a pleasure, these make sense only in terms of strategies toward MORE or LESS fulfillment in a Game.

"Motivation," then, as the word itself contains the word MOTION, and implies E-MOTION, or what is in us, our inner needs and the desires we are temperamentally inborn with or trained to change and expand upon this initial set of instincts, temperament, exist necessarily to fulfill a NEED.

A meaning as a conscious experience, and that as an EVENT abstracted from its immediate context into a MEMORY with a sense of prior-ness, and henceforth an EXPECTATION with a sense of anticipation, all this orientation in time shows that the phrase "A meaning without a future" is an ill-formed string, a oxymoron, a confuse-ment. A meaning is ALWAYS a bridge between past and future, and the most meaningful events, to call something "more" or "less" meaningful, is either DESCRIPTIVE of how much of a future-seeking behavior we've based on that experience, or RHETORICAL about how much we SHOULD base our future-seeking behavior on a given Event or that other kind of event: a recognized patten between many non-event but significantly similar experiences.

Rhetorical modes are persuasive strategies when an intelligent mind is "talking with itself" or "other selves" and so is discursive, or in "dia-logue" either way, playing meaning against meaning in a game that is supposed to persuade or win the  uncertainty into a decision for a shard and united action towards ONE goal with ONE strategy with ONE chosen meaning.