a slippery something

i once noticed that some oncoming pedestrians innately assume i will make way for them, and, unconsciously, i always do make way! that spawned some resistance, experimentation, and reasoning. i theorized that part of our ‘social contract’ includes a hierarchy – a pecking order – which is why, when i am minding my own business (i.e., asleep), walking on the 'proper' side of the sidewalk, if some alpha type comes at me (also asleep) and i fail to give way we risk a collision – even though the alpha-type will not be able to state exactly what i did wrong, both that alpha type and i know that my role is to give way, and my breaking that code is as much of a violation as if i ran in front of his speeding car. and now sometimes an oncoming unyielding pedestrian even reminds me to hold my ground. my theory is absolutely true. or absolutely wrong. or neither/nor, no matter.

one end of the stick, the outward result, is just that – i hold my ground, and whether i learned or confirmed something or made some sort of statement i do not know.

but the other end of the stick? even with the most enlightened of intentions, how is my spinning out some theory anything other than the mechanical dissipation of an impulse ultimately feeding the moon?

my brother remembers me waxing philosophical about such things, but has been reading eckhart tolle and used the oncoming pedestrians as a reminding factor to pay attention to his breath. aha! that's it! - he can hold his ground or yield, it doesn't make a jot of a difference because externally our moments might be identical, right? but internally, one might lead to heaven, one to hell.

i thought a knew a story but don't like the versions i find on-line, so here, i'll tell it as if ....

every day the monk woke early, prayed, sat in the deepest meditation, he would have dissolved into the ether if not for the bothersome whore aross the way. from the temple he could see visitors, big and slight, normal or horrible, coming at all hours. all hours! even her most elegant regalia was disgraceful, she wasn't even human, just an orifice! why didn't she just go somewhere else?

that was before the catastophe – the tsunimi swept them away and to their respective hereafters, but first, the pearly gates. they arrived together, the monk and the prostitute, and the prostitute was directed to the majestic golden threshhold of heaven, the monk to the glowering pit! "but why?" protested the monk? St. Peter: "all day long she admired you, all day long she reflected on your penitence, your vows, your service, your humility, your vocation, your dedication. but as for you, all you thought about was her sin and her cunt!

(relish it, it might be the only time i ever use the "c" word ... ever!) compare

"The devil can lead you to paradise, and God, directly to Hell."

or

Nasrudin sat on a river bank when someone shouted to him from the opposite side:

"Hey! how do I get to the other side?"

"You are on the other side!" Nasrudin shouted back.

or

"Shut your trap, you hopeless mongrel offshoot of the Hottentots! What an abortion you are, just like your teacher! Suppose it is true that the greatest physical force of the pigeon is concentrated in that big toe, then all the more, what we've got to do is to see that just that toe will be caught in the noose. Only then will there be any sense to our aim – that is to say, for catching these unfortunate pigeon creatures – in that brain-particularity proper to all possessors of that soft and slippery 'something' which consists in this, that when, thanks to other actions, from which its insignificant manifestability depends, there arises a periodic requisite law conformable what is called 'change of presence,' then this small so to say 'law conformable confusion' which should proceed for the animation of other acts in its general functioning, immediately enables the center of gravity of the whole functioning, in which this slippery 'something' plays a very small part, to pass temporarily from its usual place to another place, owing to which there often obtains in the whole of this general functioning, unexpected results ridiculous to the point of absurdity."

once gurdjieff departed from some of his people at the railway, and those who saw him off saw him in a different light, as though for once seeing him in a certain grandeur even. a reporter happened to be on that train and recognized a certain something which he figured was that he was of a high caste, a sultan perhaps, and insinuated himself in gurdjieff's company to talk, and later he wrote about the encounter, including that when the reporter alluded that political upheavals or wars must be difficult for someone of his position; gurdjieff dismissed the concerns about ups and downs and instead responded, "we always make a profit."

it seems an ideal would be to do anything and everything to wake up, to clean my apartment to wake up - the order would be incidental. but consider,what i read somewhere, that some unfortunate at the priure who, having failed to keep the pigs penned in, proffered that at least he remembered himself! "YOU IDIOT! berated, gurdjieff!" lateral octaves! or octaves of different levels and orders.

but also, incidentally, something i touch on here too is that different stories approximate similar points - that does not make them true! i saw the play doubt on broadway (with cherry jones), later turned into a movie (with meryl streep), where a priest is suspected by a nun of having inappropriate relations with someone in his charge, and the priest gives a sermon about gossip, including a story that some other blogger related as follows:

parishioner went up to the priest to unload his guilt about the act of gossiping ~ so what harm was done exactly, he asks … So the priest asked the parishioner to go back home … take a feather pillow & a knife with him up onto the roof of a high building.. Give it a slash and see what happens…

So, the parishioner did as he was told … he took a pillow & a knife … went up onto the roof & slashed it with all his might… Lo & behold… there were feathers & more feathers flying all over …. The parishioner then returned to the priest to report the act done. The priest proceeded to ask the parishioner to go back up & the roof … to RETRIEVE each and every feather that escaped from the pillow …

after the sermon the nun confronts the priest, "but is it true?!?" obviously the question is based on whether the gossip true - has the priest been sexing the boy up in any respect? but to my ears, and again, my preoccupation, even then, was the story true about the priest and the pillow, because can't a story be spun out of the ether to make any point whatsoever? do we have a standard for stories? because if we don't i'll go all Till Eulenspiegel on you and lose all my followers!

but that's where a moral compass of sorts comes in - absent the ability to believe, that is, faith, the values of the fourth way dictate that towards awakening is good, towards sleep is not good.

just kidding - 2 of 2

that story – transacting business in his sleep – is cute in its own right: business dealings in his sleep, recognizing the situation, and some sort of compromise accepting as real based on it's not being real, or something ...

but there's a few trains of ideas here.

first, i was was walking thinking thinking thinking and tried for a moment to attend to something other than thoughts: sensation or presence or self-remembering or centers ... and the thinking thinking thinking reclaims its ground. or does it?

does the “joke” convey something archtypal? at once there are multiple levels! the mullah had a glimpse of another level which perspective led him to return to that former level and on one hand take what he could but also to compromise … all sorts of possibilities, but related to the different realities – the different values – of different levels.

after my walk home and it seemed that my thinking is just too strong but then i read that mullah story – at face value a joke perhaps, but also exactly on point – one glimpse of my empty reality and i'm all too keen on returning to dreaming – perhaps it is not momentum, but a wilfull turning away, or rolling over to resume sleeping? or perhaps i am engaged in negotiation on an impossible level and have a have a moment of wakening, but finding nothing, return to what i have on a lower level.

there's a jokes and stories where someone farts or says something with a sexual innuendo, like those Till Eulenspiegel anecdotes, but what levels do those evoke?

gurdjieff invites us to compare:

It is not for nothing that our incomparable teacher, Mullah Nassr Eddin frequently says:

“Without greasing the palm, not only it is impossible to live tolerably anywhere but to breathe.”

And another terrestrial sage, named Till Eulenspiegel, who also based his wisdom on the crass stupidity of people, has expressed the same idea in the following words:

“If you don’t grease the wheels the cart won’t go.”

if you google eulenspiegel you’ll find the crassest stories – perhaps gems are hidden in shit, or perhaps it is truly a descending octave. (notwithstanding gurdjieff's saying outright when introducing the mullah in his first series,

Mullah Nassr Eddin, or as he is also called, Hodja Nassr Eddin, is, it seems, little known in Europe and America, but he is very well known in all countries of the continent of Asia; this legendary personage CORRESPONDS to the American Uncle Sam or the German Till Eulenspiegel. Numerous tales popular in the East, akin to the wise sayings, some of long standing and others newly arisen, were ascribed and are still ascribed to this Nassr Eddin.

however, the word CORRESPONDS indicates they serve a corresponding function but i'd hesitate to equate them, just as a handle to turn on water at a sink might CORRESPOND to a handle to flush a toilet - possibly. however, looking further, i see a quote from the 1931 version of B'sTs, indicating,:

Mullah Nassr Eddin or, as he is otherwise called, Hodja Nassr Eddin, is, it seems, little known in Europe and America. He is very well known, however, in all the countries of the continent Asia. This legendary personality IS LIKE the Russian 'Kusma Prutkov', the American 'Uncle Sam', or the English John Bull'. To this Mullah Nassr Eddin are ascribed numerous popular tales of the East, akin to sayings of the wisdom of daily life. They also now continue to ascribe to him various witticisms recalled from long ago as well as those newly made.

so perhaps IS LIKE indicates a greater correspondence than CORRESPONDS?)

further, consider, with regard to multiple levels within a story, and not least because i've dragged Till Eulenspiegl into this, consider:

"Thanks to this 'grammatical rule' of theirs, in any exchange of opinions the listener is first obliged to consider each proposition as if it were liable to happen, which arouses in him a certain 'being-diardookin' or, as they would say, a certain 'experiencing.' And only later the speaker, in conforming to their grammatical rule, finally pronounces their famous 'nicht,' with the result that there is produced in their common presence each time something that slowly but surely gives rise to the aforesaid specific character of their common psyche, and all this should help you to elucidate the original problem I have set you."

these are not mere musings. i attended lots of what are referred to as "celebrations" - celebrations of gurdjieff's birthday are often sombre, dry, dull - even dour. special too – don't get me in trouble for saying they are not! – but not particularly “celebratory.” granted people might find themselves in higher and more positive states, because negativity results from wrong functioning of centers, etc., and a more vivified, energetic state is more joyful. but at my meager level of being, it seems something is missing, and i wonder about joy's cousin, humor.

if laughter is an expression of a NO meeting a YES, perhaps we can identify their levels? are they the same or does one have to be higher? is there lateral humor as well as ascending and descending humor? do we start with a no or with a yes? and is the next yes or no higher or lower? and if those are 1-2-3 and 2-1-3 might one introduce 1-3-2 or 2-3-1 or even induce a humorous triad starting with 3? because that’s what i’m trying to do here!

(just kidding!)

reading through that thread it seems characteristic that nassr eddin stories either respond to a lower level out of values of the higher or vice-versa.

Otherwise, as they say, 'With what may the Devil not joke?'—they might hear about your insulting them and, to use another of their expressions, 'lay you by the heels.' There is no harm in recalling here another wise saying of our dear Mullah Nasr Eddin: 'What on earth will happen next? A flea might swallow an elephant!'

i wonder what the role of the court jester is - the fool - the one who can say anything and get away with it! recently, my mom related about some joke tellers who just tell jokes one after another which are not related to anything, as opposed to a joke that fits the situation. perhaps the riddle here is to be between two rivers, a simultaneity of experience, to cast one in relationship to the other.

Offered some food from the king's court, Bohlul put it in front of a dog. As the hungry animal began to eat with gusto, Bohlul turned to the courtiers: "Don't tell him it is from the king's banquet."

just kidding - 1

Mullah Nasruddin was dreaming that someone was paying him out gold pieces, counting out nine, but the Mullah insisted on a ten. While was arguing, he was awakened by a sudden noise in the street. Recognizing that that he had been dreaming, Mullah Nasruddin quickly closed his eyes, and, closing his hand said, "Very well, my friend, have it your way. Give me nine."

adapted to make sense from http://forums.penny-arcade.com/discussion/131886/seven-year-old-vinegar/p5 (no need to go there, i'm just giving credit where credit is due.) there's also:

"Thief, thief! Someone has stolen my camel!" cried Nasrudin.

Finally after the commotion was quietened someone observed, "But Nasrudin, you have no camel."

"Shhh..." said Nasrudin, "I am hoping the thief is unaware of this and the camel will be returned."

and ...

Nasrudin sat on a river bank when someone shouted to him from the opposite side: "Hey! how do I get to the other side?"

"You are on the other side!" Nasrudin shouted back.

at a certain point, hearing a new joke is unusual - it just doesn't happen. i'm surprised to find a few new ones in one shot. there's something about stories and jokes ... and about the role of the fool - maybe i'll wiseacre some - give me a few days, eh?

don't be helpful: be available. - robert fripp aphorism*

how can i help? it seems the obvious extension to that question is "how can i help what"? can i get you a coffee? can i direct you to the station? can i relieve you of your concerns or anxiety? can i solve your problems? can i help you evolve? certain help may depend on some physical manifestation, like holding a coffee cup, and certain help may depend on something higher participating; most likely participation of more than one level is at issue for people who stumble upon this blog.

a frail elderly crazy friend has a lifelong interest in the fourth way. since letting her talk uninterruptedly seemed unproductive, and since it seemed a respite might do us both some good, i suggested we sit quietly for a spell; she acceded. but who's bright idea was it to sit quietly - wasn't that my ego!?!? - although a break might be helpful, it might not! either way though, it's just accidental.

yet it seemed that the only way i might help her state was if my state was higher. so i suggested she sit in any manner she chose, and meanwhile i generally disregard her - i was not attempting to focus my mind or feelings or even some self-designed sequence of anything, but rather, i attempted to follow exactly instructions i had received from someone else, someone who shared it with me coming from a higher state. of course my intention was tainted by ego, even doing it then and there, already at variance to the instructions! but i hoped that the higher indication i strove towards might reconcile my own state at a higher level. the notion of being a "conscious egoist" came to mind, as though altruism might come as a byproduct of my attempt to introduce the higher to raise my normal state.

my friend and i did both find a bit of silence, so who knows who's state and level affected who's and how, or whether it was just the mechanics of taking a breather, or something else entirely - i cannot say. there's lots of danger of my ego grabbing the idea and blogging "i can DO!" though if you could see my state or the the state of my apartment you'd agree i cannot.

in any case, it seems ordinary helping is possible - that is, subject to mechanics, the law of accident, hit or miss, gratitude or scorn. ordinary helping comes out of ego and personality which cannot jump over their own knees, beyond the level of the worldly. it does seem that a well developed personality or less subjective consciousness would be more helpful by virtue of being present to see what's needed.

maybe in making a work effort or working for an aim, or if i've got something higher in me which might appear, it'll help someone on an evolutionary level, vertically. again, such worldly manifestation might be hit or miss, appreciated or scorned, although perhaps something higher might inform my actions. but there is a place for external considering - service, altruism. where else would service appear? and if i evolve, even up to my acquiring Will and Individuality, how can the quality of this service not also evolve?

in any case, even if it is just my ego that wants to be of service it seems serving others who are more conscious than i am is a safe bet, even respectable.

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

perhaps that's personality's correlate for an eventual third line of work.

_________
*Robert Fripp aphorism from the bottom of what seems to be robert fripp et al.'s site.

101

i was imagining someone wanting to read plato or the new testament in greek, or the five books of moses in hebrew, or goethe in german. i was imagining their listing alphabetic runes and trying to approximate the corresponding phonemes, while studying various linguistic rules and exceptions. i was imagining their nuanced understanding of the vast scope of the enterprise they were embarking upon, fully cognizant of what they may have to pay and of the easier alternatives. i imagined someone consulting history and experts, and admiringly nodding to forerunners who had mastered those amazing works.

but learning the alphabet, and the language ... isn't that all Classics 101? what about the 200 level courses? not even talking about advanced degrees!

what led me to such imaginings was hearing people discussing gurdjieff's talk to ouspensky & co.. beginning with "know thyself" gurdjieff stated that such knowledge must be obtained and it must be obtained starting with self observation with regard to a division of centers/functions, and further with regard to the divisions of those centers, and that one must first identify what is obvious and soon one will have lots of material, etc..

one inconspicuous word i just used to summarize this is "soon." gurdjeiff nowhere indicated that identifying centers and functions is a lifetime pursuit. rather, it is a prerequisite, but not the subject itself. 101. or perhaps if the outline itself is 101 maybe this subject might be 102 or 110, but 100 level nonetheless.

yet from the tone of the discussion one would think that people were pursuing a masters in the alphabet; despite years of attempts some seemed despairing, or discussed who it is that sees, or resigned to start again, or discussed sincerity, daring not state anything definitively - all manner of things. overall, the gravity of the discussion of an unattainable 101 seemed odd in that familiar way and echoes my various misgivings:

• does the fourth way work? perhaps it did but no longer does, perhaps it has changed, or perhaps it was dependent upon something else (i.e., gurdjieff's presence).
• are we going about it wrong? are we overlooking something? did i register and pay tuition?
• is ouspensky's account correct, was gurdjieff pulling our legs?
• has anyone ever "mastered" identifying centers?

if the intellectual center compares and if the emotion center likes, how can we isolate comparing and liking? why doesn't comparing fahrenheit to celsius and taking a cold shower put us well on the way towards the 200 level strata? isn't rick-rolling by definition an emotional "ugh"?

there's something to be said for contemplating the intricacies of the process, consulting history and experts, admiringly nodding to legends. but perhaps certain work starts at a lower level.

glitch in the ego

i was thinking about the movie matrix, particularly a glitch in the matrix ...

looking it up on line i wonder if even trinity understood when she explained "A déjà vu is usually a glitch in the Matrix. It happens when they change something." as though the glitch occurs when the mechanical forces change - but i suspect the glitch actually occurs when the mechanical laws falter.

You know how it is when you're walking up the stairs, and you get to the top, and you think there's one more step? I'm like that all the time.

- Steven Wright

some sort of shock, separation from the expected mechanical progression. recently for some reason or other i was trying to be more contained. at that moment, coincidentally, someone tossed a cigarette butt on the ground before returning indoors to their workplace. my pet peeve is that smokers are tacitly licensed to litter, and if a reader of this blog is one of those licensed litterers fuck you, but i'll assume you're not. probably related to to my momentary trying to be more centered i perceived my moralizing as a movement - indeed this pet peeve of mine was an untrained pet that does as it pleases and "i" follow on it's leash! can something stand apart?

let's get back to neo for a second, though i don't quite remember the sequence, it was something like his computer announcing he will now wake up. odd enough as that was, his computer then announced he will wake up. odd enough as that was ...

let's get back to neo for a second, though i don't quite remember the sequence, it was something like his computer announcing he will now wake up. odd enough as that was, his computer then announced he will wake up. odd enough as that was ...

it's amazing that this can mean something to my neighbor and something on a different scale to me. it's amazing that it might actually contain a subtle truth, perhaps even something higher. i read on someone's blog that "Almost every cliché contains a truth so profound that people have been compelled to repeat it until it makes you roll your eyes. But the wisdom is still in there." i do find many clichés and jokes particularly useful, sometimes brilliant, as though they are time-release messages, or "let he who has ears hear" kind of thing. but it seems that the message has to correlate with a glitch in the matrix, it has to hit one just right. also reminds me of what i think was a monty python sketch about a joke that wouldn't be funny for about ten minutes, though the joke could not be shared because the show ended in just a few minutes, but i always wondered.

if there's a glitch and we're not there to see it we might attribute it to our morning coffee, which might even be true! or to chance or to our efforts or to what not. but if some theme is already at work, such as the Work ideas, i'm guessing, perhaps those glitches will lend themselves to a greater understanding, or to a wake up call.

anyway, i then again tried to maintain some semblance of presence and it was impossible. i wondered why it was impossible. was it because i already had some idea of what i was struggling for, that the conceptualization was already a perversion of some more innocent attempt? that might factor in, but mostly i don't think that's it. i think the original attempt caught my ego off-guard. perhaps the Work has got to "outsmart" the ego to find a point of entry in the first place - that educates my ego too, and the point of entry will not be available long before the ego owns it. like in the movie, a portal was good for a limited duration before it was found out. and so, for the last few days i've noticed how my thoughts are my ego's self-validation of this very experience. perhaps this is all free association but the notion of "glitch in the ego" seems interesting.

one more thing - i discussed with a friend whether one impulse becomes it's opposite ... particularly, there's a chart in ouspensky depicting how an impulse, say to be charitable, after a series of deflections becomes it's opposite. i always figured that the nature of deflections, accident, couldn't possibly be geometrically and literally opposite, such as becoming greedy, but, rather, figuratively opposite, for instance, you want to be charitable but become tired or a sculptor. but a "glitch in the ego" experience is in the direction of consciousness and might indeed be "opposite" to my ego's blogging about it.

let's get back to neo for a second, though i don't quite remember the sequence, it was something like his computer announcing he will now wake up. odd enough as that was, his computer then announced he will wake up. odd enough as that was ...

holy funk, batman!

i haven't posted anything for a while. but had some drafts - wonder what i can do with this one. particularly because i'm perpetually in a funk - funk impressions. and also particularly because the title will likely relate to another draft forthcoming, somewhere down the line. but most of this draft goes to the virtual scrap heap.

my original draft included this:

when i'm despondent
it echoes through my mind
"the search is not compulory"

this peculiar clarity
is it an opportunity? -
and for what?

i put it into italics so it looks like verse.

and also that, besides allusions to levels, higher carbons, many wines, and relativity, there's this verse, a particular calling, a particular direction:

In the lightning flash of a moment I have seen the immensity of your creation in my life -- creation through many a death from world to world.

I weep at my unworthiness when I see my life in the hands of the unmeaning hours -- but when I see it in your hands I know it is too precious to be squandered among shadows.

--Rabindranath Tagore, from Fruit-Gathering, 1916

Translated from Bengali by author (here's an on-line source).

(i think i quoted that here before)

likely despondency itself has a vibration, but is it my job to observe funk impressions and ultimately transform them? maybe like what G. told kathryn hulme (reported in undiscovered country, pertaining to her quitting smoking) to paraphrase, "i wish the result of this suffering to be mine for being"? because as i am now i simply can't do that -- perhaps because i just can't wait it out, or i get distracted, or more likely i become identified with it, and instead my ordinary personality usurps whatever i might have tried to observe. so for all that, maybe later.

practically, now, there's a pattern that i'm as accustomed to as my own smell. if i interrupt that once, a hundred times, i might notice something less accustomed.

hark, i have heard the sphinxes roaring each to each

a friend and i complained about our mothers. from what he tells me our mothers seem so different, yet both so eager to overreact to inconsequential day-to-day events. "oh, you got a haircut!" "oh, this tea is delicious!" "oh, you have a papercut, maybe you should see a doctor!" annoying. accordingly, for my own mother, i've developed an extraordinarily blasé and controlling manner of expressing myself, not necessarily to deprive her of her manner of interacting in life, but to protect myself from being reeled into a sort of craziness that i find overly-engulfing.

i don't know how to speak of the work to others - i think even related to that in some prior post - mostly i think people just don't ask the right questions. but here was an opportunity and i offered some impressions.

first i related about a nyt photographer/blogger/journalist visited the then-oldest person in america, and when the blogger visited they sang together some stupid song tantamount to "old macdonald's" (i think the story no longer loads, and besides, i found it to be in bad taste, and it is besides the point besides, but here's a link). i suggested to my friend that it is tragic that we don't have an "inner life," and that such eagerness to live vicariously through distant or shallow events evidences a lack.

then i suggested that the riddle of the sphinx should be attenuated:

what has four legs in the morning,
two legs in the afternoon,
three legs in the evening,
and no legs at midnight?

as though we need to develop something for the time when we maybe lose a faculty or two.

finally i related that we spend our lives responding to whatever life serves up, but that some esoteric ideas suggest that if there were a way to guard against life taking that we might keep something and with it create something for ourselves.

but you know what, he never hears that far, something stops. or maybe it's me - i can only experiment, and perhaps what i said may bother him enough for him to maybe ask me a question i might be able to field.

anyway, in retrospect this reminds me of a joke (i'd be embarrassed to tell this juvenile joke, but easy enough to cut-and-paste, but as i write this stuff out i like it more and more all over again, like i'm back in grade school, go figure):

A scientist was interested in studying how far bullfrogs can jump. He brought a bullfrog into his laboratory, set it down, and commanded, 'Jump, frog, jump!' The frog jumped. The scientist measured the distance, then noted in his journal, 'Frog with four legs jumped six feet.'

Then he cut the frog's front legs off and ordered, 'Jump, frog, jump!' The frog struggled and jumped. The scientist noted in his journal, 'Frog with two legs jumped two feet.'

Next, the scientist cut off the frog's back legs. Once more, he shouted, 'Jump, frog, jump!' The frog just lay there. 'Jump, frog, jump!' the scientist repeated. Nothing. The scientist noted in his journal, 'Frog with no legs is deaf.'

i particularly like in that telling of that joke the allusion to "a frog like that you don't eat all once," that the writer spared the listener the unnecessary cutting off of a the third leg, and instead removed the third and fourth together, but most of all, that the experiment is ludicrous!

anyway, even people in the Work may lose their minds and bodies, but what if something really learns how to work? or what might be a result of someone in life constantly repeating om mani padme hum or the Lord's Prayer - would they be inclined them to automatically repeat that innerly during their incapacitation or dying in parts or even dead? why do Tibetans read out loud to a corpse from the Book of The Dead?

what can be trained? my aunt was always obsessive-compulsive and now has fairly advanced alzheimer's. notable is how meticulous she is even now (another nyt reference had someone allude to an alzheimer's parent as putting the "mench" into "dementia"). i doubt her ocd gave rise to such a meticulous and sweet dotage, but rather, her meticulous essence might have participated in her ocd, after all, she is a lawful product of contemporary life. but still, essence does have the capacity to mature, we are told we can "grow our essence." when i die altogether or in parts, how will i know where to go? will i "go towards the light?" here's a story i heard the other night:

the mulla was invited to participate in the opening performance of a broadway show - he would have just one line, "HARK! I HEAR THE CANNON'S ROAR!" eager for acclaim, he accepted and began repeating his line, emphasizing it one way or another, "HARK! i hear the cannon's roar" or "hark, I HEAR the cannon's ROAR," or padded with a pause, a sigh, a vibrato. he tried it high, he tried it low, he tried it flat he tried it emotionally, "Hark, I hear the cannon's roar!" for days. his poor wife. poor everyone, as he flew to new york, "Hark, I hear the cannon's roar!" "Hark, I hear the cannon's roar!" and from the airport already to the theater, "Hark, I hear the cannon's roar!" "Hark, I HEAR THE CANNON'S R-O-A-R!!" "H-H-Hark, I-I h-hear the c-cannon's RROAR!" finally, at the last-minute he was ushered onto the stage for his moment when suddenly -B-O-O-M-!- "WHAT the FUCK was THAT!?!?"

(a HarkHarkHaHa).

i thought i was done, but my readers have probably come to expect several modifications of my postings. not even including fixing all my typos. generally just to overwork the point i tried to make previously. so, with my apologies ... the use of the story above and my "discussion" obviously correllate to conversation recorded by ouspensky in which someone asked about the possibility of reincarnation, and whether it was possible to believe in cases of communication with the dead.

But think for yourselves what there is to withstand physical death in a man who faints or forgets everything when he cuts his finger?

Hark!

while i have legs shouldn't i be extrapolating and interpolating, or at least learning my lines? which lines, however, is probably important ... i remember a childhood experience from a shoe store salesman, he asked me and my brother how many different ways we could ask, "what am i doing?" - kind of like that cannon story, we came up with various manners of "WHAT am i doing?" "what AM i doing?" "what am I doing?" "what am i DOING?" - "acting like an idiot!" he sang in reply. bastard. but ouspensky included gurdjieff's elaboration around the idea, which conveniently to my word play, relate to "lines":

But if a struggle begins in him, and particularly if there is a definite line in this struggle, then, gradually, permanent traits begin to form themselves, he begins to 'crystallize.' "But crystallization is possible on a right foundation and it is possible on a wrong foundation. 'Friction,' the struggle between 'yes' and 'no,' can easily take place on a wrong foundation [... resulting in ...] something solid, something permanent [-] [s]uch people can become immortal. But what is the good of it? A man of this kind becomes an 'immortal thing,' although a certain amount of consciousness is sometimes preserved in him. But even this, it must be remembered, occurs very rarely.

ouspensky appended that one of the people who heard that exposition later asked of gurdjieff

"In what way can one evoke the struggle between 'yes' and 'no' in oneself?"

"Sacrifice is necessary, ... if nothing is sacrificed nothing is obtained. ..."

a ship was out at sea many days after land was expected. provisions ran out; the navigator already cast himself overboard! the distraught passengers and crew prayed, "oh god, please save me, i'll be worthy," "oh allah, please save me, i'll remember you," "oh god, please save me, i'll refrain from lying, adultry," "oh allah, i'll be a better person," "dear allah i'll be charitable" when the mullah, pointing into the distance, shouted "there's no need, hark! i see land!"

there's always tomorrow.

rock-and-rollism

Rock and roll doesn’t necessarily mean a band. It doesn’t mean a singer, and it doesn’t mean a lyric, really. It’s that question of trying to be immortal.

— Malcom McLaren

I'm no rocker. This quote appeared in some newsy box on a webpage because MM passed away today. But it echoes what I read in B's.Ts. yesterday, and related to an artist friend who echoed back that most artistic manifestations are sheer narcissism.

"In concluding my present tale about contemporary terrestrial art, I might as well mention yet another of the many specific characteristics of those beings of contemporary civilization who devote themselves to this famous art.

"This specific characteristic of theirs is that whenever one of these beings notices some 'lawful illogicality' in the productions that have come down from ancient times and begins to work in his branch of art in quite a new manner, perhaps in order to make this lawful illogicality clear to himself in practice, most of the beings around him occupied professionally in the same branch at once become his followers and begin doing supposedly the same thing, but of course without either aim or sense.

"And it is owing to this 'specific' characteristic of the psyche of the representatives of contemporary art that, on the one hand, what are called 'new movements in art' are constantly springing up among your favorites, and on the other hand, those movements which were somehow rightly established by preceding generations, even though only after a fashion, are constantly dwindling.

"Although this phenomenon exists among the representatives of all branches of contemporary art, for some reason or other the beings occupied in the branch they call 'painting' are most susceptible to it.

"Hence it is that at the present time there exist among these professionals a great many 'new movements in painting' which have arisen in this way and have nothing in common. These new movements are known there by names such as 'cubism,' 'futurism,' 'synthesism,' 'imagism,' 'impressionism,' 'colorism,' 'formalism,' 'surrealism,' and many of her such names also ending in 'ism.'"

* * *

At this point of Beelzebub's tales, he was given a "Leitoochanbros," that is, a special metal plate on which is recorded the text of an etherogram received from somewhere or other, the addressee having only to hold it to his perceptive hearing organ to hear everything communicated in it. When Beelzebub had in this way heard the contents of the Leitoochanbros handed to him, he turned to his grandson and said, "You see, my boy, what coincidences occur in our Great Universe. The contents of this etherogram concern just your favorites in connection with these terrestrial beings I have just mentioned, that is, ..."

triangulation du jour ... pythagoras' two legs to stand on

on Monday i was perusing this in the NYT - http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/03/14/square-dancing/?scp=1&sq=pythagorean&st=cse (March 14, 2010, SQUARE DANCING, By Steven Strogatz).

partly i looked at it b/c i was told how lame and lazy the intellect is. but the article quickly dispelled misgivings, discussing how geometry engages intellect and intuition, and illustrates pythagoreanometricly proof that a2+b2=c2 (c2 being the square on the hypotenuse).

by coincidence, on the same day I also read "As we are we are like two thirds of a triangle, a negative side and a positive side, but no base connecting them so there’s nothing to let them flow, work together. What takes the place of real “I” in us now is personality and personality constantly changes, never stays put, so we can’t really use ourselves for any real tasks. When we replace personality with individuality based in essence, then we will be able to do." -- recounted from a 1973 meeting with Annie Lou Stavely (d. 2001).

In the common presence of every being existing merely on the basis of itoklanotz, there is 'something' similar to the regulator in a mechanical watch, and this 'something' is called 'iransamkeep,' which means 'not-to-give-oneself-up-to-the-associations-resulting-from-the-functioning-of-one-brain-alone.'

the NYT article indicates that the pythagorean theorem is less about lengths than areas. i can't help but reflect that pythagoras is given due recognition in B'sTs (apart from G's derision of other "philosophic" greeks' pouring from the empty to the void), and also to consider the fourth way tenet that everything is matter. and i associate the discussion about shocks, that the nature of the first conscious shock is self-remembering, and the nature of the second conscious shock is more difficult to describe but related to emotion and the efforts of not identifying and not expressing negative emotion, etc..

i particularly appreciated this article. there's something experiential. as though the exponent "squared" is indeed weilding, even with subtle expertise, "levers."

how to grapple with an unknown quantity - unknown in length certainly, but perhaps also in dimension? well, first of all, there's whatever it is that's sucking all my attention, what i'm identified with - that's a given, how i live my life ordinarily. along comes something that might expand my attention - for instance, if i'm "identified" with writing some argument, perhaps some bodily irritation or remembering to sense my body might invite another center to participate within my field of attention. although bodily irritation might inform my experience, it might automatically engage personality; but perhaps a work effort would be an invitation to something more essential to participate.

setting out to identify a2 and b2 to derive c2 (and perhaps ultimately the root of it all - "I") seems a tall order. yet ouspensky's frontespeice to tertium organum includes cites Paul theApostle, The Epistle to the Ephesians, III, 17-18, saying "That ye, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height."

but just one other thing about this, about trigonometry and "wiseacring" -- once I accompanied an architect who was surveying where a building was planned. with stakes and a string we charted out the land -- i don't recall the procedure, but i think what we did was some primative triangulation (although it might have been rudimentray measuring (perhaps haskel duke will find this blog and refresh my memory)). similarly, i've got this notion that with the tools at my disposal, i should be able to discern something on a larger scale. but even so, just as the NYT suggests that there are areas hiding behind lengths, what will enliven my sensibilities to register such expanded impressions?

in any case, it is both my disposition as well as my purpose that by pondering or simply mashing up these ideas i might somehow distill or otherwise make something for myself. maybe i'll even stumble upon something in the upturned soil. meanwhile, like the forbidden room in a fairy tale, i take license and even invitation in G's "warning" (c.f., “Never forget that every stick has two ends. The devil can lead you to paradise, and God, directly to Hell.” — G.I. Gurdjieff ). Moreover, G. himself indicates regarding iransamkeep:

If only such an idea would occur to them and they were to carry on their usual wiseacrings with it, they would then perhaps discover onevery simple 'secret.' I am sure that somebody would stumble on this 'secret' because, in the first place, it is simple and obvious, and in the second place, they discovered it long ago and have often put it to practical use.