On BBC a few minutes ago I made a recording of a segment of a rehearsal of “Allele” by the New London Chamber Choir where singers sing the parts of the human genetic code under James Weeks. The segment reminds me of some of the chant-like music towards the conclusion of the classic film, 2001 Space Odyssey.
You want to articulate a feeling and do not have the words because you have a tendency to want to believe it is possible that if human beings developed a new sensing ‘apparatus’ (from your minds) it might better serve in the maturing of the species.
Yes. It may be analogous to listening to the DNA code as music. A fuller understanding, perhaps, rather than knowledge, of what we are created from beyond mere atomics. The concept excites my imagination that perhaps we can better learn to appreciate other senses of learning beyond our traditional. We, as a species, need a broader base. In some ways the Internet is fulfilling this by allowing people easier communication with one another around the planet. And, as I have written before, the internet concept (as it is presently) is like a concept of the Afterworld in the Merlyn books. I am thinking of that wonderful photo of the Earth from the Moon and how it forever changed my perspective within. It is as picking up a book for the first time, that is, reading a book for the first time. Reading as a first event. The wonder of it. Words become pictures in the mind. Such excitement that brought me as a little one. We need something new, a new perspective from which to view ourselves, our planet, and galaxy and universe, seen and unseen. That would be most awesome, and in itself, a form of evolution in our species.
You are afraid you are beginning to ramble so I stopped you here. Post. Later, dude. Amorella.
It is your wish, at present, to continue with chapter six and work on chapter five audio along the way. I see no problem with this as long, for yourself, you have chapter five audio completed for your aunt and uncle so you don’t have that sticking in the back of your mind to take up energy and space, as it were.
Good thought, Amorella. You are right. Perhaps just a couple or three scenes of chapter six, then finishing up the audio. I am curious to see how this next chapter is going to go, and am rather excited at the prospect of its completion in that I will be half way through book four.
Two scenes, how’s that?
Two scenes then. This chapter is just Grandfather and his granddaughter. What will be the setting?
Self-discovery. A revelation.
This is bothersome, Amorella. I don’t like the word ‘revelation’ because of particular Christian religious connotations and applications.
You are more fearful of a shout than a whisper, orndorff. You, of all people, should know better. You don’t want to rock your personal world, and I don’t blame you. Nevertheless, a whisper it will be between your species’ genetic mother and her grandfather. Someone has to envision the light of day, someone has, Mother. She serves as the ‘sun’ in abstentia, not the North Star as her grandfather envisioned. The greater consciousness of the Dead envisions the regularity of light in day and there it is, sans sun.
This is fantasy, Amorella. One cannot wish something to come to pass. Like Grandma Schick used to say, “If wishes were horses then beggars would ride.”
The power of the mind is greater than wishes, orndorff. You know this, you have experienced it returning to the age of three. All the senses of those younger days. Hypnosis is a doorway, or more of a window in these books. You’ll see this shortly in the first two scenes.
As long as you are reasonable, Amorella, I’ll give it a shot. Still, it does not seem you can do more than what already is done with my imagination. Are you going to put me under, a form of self hypnosis, to write this?
Where have you been, boy? Post, and take a break. – Amorella. Nearly dusk. You are going to have to put yourself in the place of a grandfather talking to his granddaughter about how the world of the Dead and Living really is, not how it is in your granddaughter’s imagination.
It is hard for me to fathom I would know any more about the Dead the our Mother. She was there first.
Then, within the context of the story, how did Grandfather, while living, know/realize people can be in two places at once, Here, and out there towards the North Star?
You made it up, Amorella. I assumed he ‘knew’ because he was a shaman. He believed it, so he pronounced his belief as fact. People thus assumed he was right, at least some of them. His granddaughter had been impressed. Perhaps she convinced herself he was right.
In context Grandfather was correct.
The difference here, Amorella, and this is a big difference, I am no shaman so I do not believe what is written. I am not out to convince anyone, including myself, that the books are anything but dreams from myself. Okay, I admit I would like it if the world of the Dead were similar to the settings in the stories, but that is only in the general sense of an Afterworld. And, I would like there to be alien marsupials like in series. That spurs my imagination into a “what if” scenario. That is why I grew up on science fiction. I like the concepts.
What it comes down to is this, I don’t know anything about being among the Dead. I hardly know anything about being among the Living. How can I think about being a grandfather who is having a talk with his granddaughter about the Dead and Living when she has actually been physically dead longer than he has. What could he possibly realize that she hasn’t? How could he have realized she didn’t know as much as he thought she did? Obviously, in real life older people many times know things about the world that younger people have never considered. I can understand and relate to this. It is for me an observed fact. Younger people have a different set of facts to live by than older people, mostly from lack of first hand experience and from their daily focuses in life.
What is the trigger? What is it that makes Grandfather realize his granddaughter is missing something about being dead and having once been alive? What could she possibly have said, or what could he have recently observed that would lead him to realize the two were going to have to have a serious talk about “how things are” not “how she wishes things were”.
Even it he gets his message across, how does he know she really is changed by what he has said? One can talk to herorhis child about most anything but is the message going to get through? Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, no. Sometimes you never know about that message. Then you have an interpretation of the message. Is the interpretation correct/appropriate for the moment? People don’t get up and change their thinking because someone has had a talk with them. The granddaughter in this case has to have an epiphany that slides right into grandfather’s message.
Something within her has to be triggered by something grandfather says, something that he can accept and that she takes for her own self, her own ‘change’ in perspective or whatever, a revelation about herself, perhaps, or about her grandfather, or about those marsupials she met after dying and before coming to the ‘human’ place of the dead. I cannot imagine how such a conversation would begin but in my mind, it would have to be something that was not pre-planned by either one of them.
The conversation would have to fall into place in a natural way. It would have to be like me giving a lecture about Beowulf as an Anglo-Saxon work and end up talking about ‘how would one know if an Angel was in the room with you’, then in the process the answer is resolved. How one leads to the other know one has a clue. That is what the ‘delight’ of thinking and conversation is all about. The mystery of it. In your life you find ten words uttered once in a classroom has effected your entire sense of living.
For me, for example, it would have to be reading Death of a Salesman for the first of many times. Never would I be a Willy Loman, or a Biff Loman either. Maybe you have to know who you are not, before you can know who you are. Anyway, the play changed my life. Our Town is another play that changed my life. “How is my girl? How is my birthday girl?” I immediately understood what Emily understood and I didn’t have to be dead to understand it. That is the kind of epiphany I want to see, like what Emily realizes in Our Town after she hears her father’s original words for the second time, after she is dead. What a wonderful play. I am so glad I was born into such a time where I could read all of the works I have read in my life. There is no other mental excitement in the world like reading. None. Only the particular magic of the live stage is close. That’s how I see it anyway.
Enough for tonight, orndorff. – Amorella. 
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