Late morning. You had a dermatologist’s appointment with Dr. Mohammed Diap in Springdale at the corner of SR 747 and Progress Drive.
The doctor is quite personable with a good, slightly dark, sense of humor that I enjoy. He took care of three ‘spots’ on my face, which should be healed in seven to ten days. No skin cancer. I will go back to Dr. Diap in a minute if I need to; a very kind man. Carol is still busy watering the grass and trees – tomorrow we break a local weather record for the number of consecutive days over ninety degrees.
You were chatting with Carol but forget the topic other than the ‘gathering’ of the Lakeside community in your front yard and cul-de-sac on Saturday evening, 6 August. It reminded you that the lawn will need mowing, at least some of it, later in the week. Carol is in the shower and you have to turn off the water in about twenty minutes; then errands and lunch out.
What are Kassandra and Sophia going to talk about in scene two?
The bridge. Both are seemingly Platonic in their thinking, but soon find one is more like Aristotle (thought-wise).
I have something from the ‘bridge dedication’ in reference (though I cannot remember if it has actually been dedicated):
** **
Construction Site at the Styx
Temple dedicated to Asclepius, the Healer, as gate to bridge
Mario, Thales and Salaman stand above the shoreline staring down at the vast river-sea, watching piles of stone and wood being placed along the edge and back toward the city where Eleusis Street ends at the Styx nearly splitting the beautifully crescent-shaped beach in half. Seven hundred yards of beach east, and five hundred yards of beach west, each ending with rocky tower-like precipice.
The east rocky crag sets about a thousand feet high, two thousand feet out into the Styx, and the west river cliff measures fifteen hundred feet high, but it only extends out a thousand feet. Natural gate towers that would welcome hordes of ships, their sailors and cargo on Earth, set desolate, waiting for the eventual incoming. Instead the selected Dead arrive at the inlet community pools just north of the river’s muddy sands, rather than entering from the center of the Styx to the south.
Thales alone said nothing and shook his somber head sideways then towards the eerie leeward side of the hill above the town. Such is the breeze that blows to our west, passed Stone Hill and supposedly on to the pit of Tartarus beyond, the place where the rebel gods were thrown by mighty Zeus for nine years, or so it is rumored. Never have we heard a word from them.
** **
And, I have a photo below from The Mikroikia. I probably have used this for description before but it seems appropriate to mention something of it, as it has been a while, (I cannot remember when we last visited). I think this was taken from Fickr.
You also have one you took of the ray eof light ‘storming’ into one of the room’s of Mother’s House. Place it here as a reminder of how the reader will eventually first witness a description of ‘s-nlight’ in Elysium by Mother Eve herself.
Wow. I remember taken this picture. I never thought of a use for it though (besides the photograph itself). The light still streaming through centuries after the devastation. In my eyes it is a scene of great gravity as well as one of hope for humanity the future.
See, you do have hope, at least in your soul, and in this circumstance it counts much more than you think. (Pun intended.) Post. – Amorella.
Post Office, lunch at Chipotle/Panera, and a stop at Kroger’s before heading home. Fortunately for you the one parking with shade was open for the taking with your handicap marker.
I received a response to ‘Natural Voice’ this morning and was told that the Lion software will be available next month and that they would send it free of charge, upgrade included. They gave me a new serial number but I accidently pushed the wrong button and lost their note. No complaints. The old program was great, as one could actually tweak the pronunciations to a particular dialect if sheorhe so desired.
This is a strange event, earlier today, on the way to the doctor’s office I saw a woman in her forties walking and she appeared as my mother when she was that age. Even her medium length hair semi-fit. I would have never mentioned it, but now I see an old fellow in the parking lot, who, from a side view looks like a spitting image of my father in his eighties – height, weight, bald on top, and the same awkward mannerism Dad had when he wasn’t using his cane. Reminds me a bit of the film Paul rented Saturday night, now I can’t remember the name of it. The theme was on fate, free will, and love. Philip Dick wrote the book version so I guess it would be classified as science fiction. Angelic- like creatures (not really) had to keep the world tweaked to A Plan and the two main characters falling in love was not a part of the plan of the day. The film was more thoughtful than I thought it would be (but then, at first, I didn’t realize Dick wrote the book). We almost rented SALT instead as we were looking for an action adventure. Shoot, the only title that comes to mind is “Accidental Tourist” which was obviously not this film. . . . Home where I could check: “The Adjustment Bureau” is the title.
Do you think the Matt Damon film plausible? – Amorella.
As a general concept I say, yes. Well, I would before these books but now, no. The plausibility is not so great because “The Chairman” could have rewritten the script at the very beginning. My concept of G---D is that at “full tilt” there is nothing G---D could not do (even surmounting the Piper) with the Free Will that G---D has. As G---D has given humans the gift of Free Will; humans cannot see G---D as omniscient without a conflict of interest. And, alas, a part of the basic human condition is ‘a conflict of interest’. Ah, back to politics and religion and the reasons to not argue either one too strenuously, at least reasons for me not to get into such arguments.
You pulled up the missing photo from your external drive and have now included it. You think of the unseen “Chairman” as G---D when more likely in our context in the books and blog, the “Chairman would be the Piper.”
I would not have thought that.
I know. You somehow equate G---D with All Knowing and Omniscent (cultural) when (from a human perspective in the books and blog) G---D as I use the word would be as a VerB. It is an important existential matter of basic grammar. – Amorella.
Too deep for me, Amorella.
In here at least, G---D is not a person, place or thing.
I don’t even like using the three hyphens or dashes. It seems blasphemous for consideration. The witness of such an angelic-like event in my mind (imaginary or not) was an otherwise empty ‘pocket’ if you will, of absolute no power. This was as I ‘danced’. You say it was with you, Amorella, that I danced. If that is the case, then you, at that moment were an empty pocket of about seven feet by three feet in which I danced. It was a mystical experience. If indeed as you say, that was you, then ‘G---D as a personal concept is so far removed from human reality that speculation of such an entity or movement, if you will, is beyond my comprehension. This is the reason I would just as soon stay away from the subject at this level as well as at an ‘angelic-like’ level. I am best, at my most comfortable level talking about themes in Paradise Lost and Moby Dick. It is not my wish to disrespect ‘my’ concept of G---D. And, I can say this and still be comfortable as an agnostic. – it is a matter of self-experience under self-hypnosis, imagination and culture.
I like to catch you on edge. Add the title, VerB. Post. – Amorella.
Carol and I spent the evening watching TV shows from last week. Very relaxing and it is almost time for bed. Grammar is the key to all this. If I were a detective, I would say that is the case. No matter what I imagine, what is real, what is unconscious expectation – whatever it is – for me to understand myself, to better understand what my humanity is – it will depend as it has depended, on grammar. Grammar is dependent upon reason. You say the heart and soul are not dependent upon grammar for communication, but in this context, is the mind dependent or not, on communication?
In context, it is not. – Amorella.
Now, that is a surprise. If each, the heart, the soul, and the mind were separate personalities, like in the book Sybil, would this still make sense in context?
No, it would not. You are looking for an analogy for some specific insight as to how the three communicate. You are looking into the area of the unconscious mind, but the level is undeliverable in grammatical terms.
The way we think, the way we describe angelic communication, is we say it is telepathic for lack of a better word.
Telepathic as a word, has expectations and cultural motifs. It is not a good word in context.
Well, here’s the thing, Amorella, if you can put G---D into an encasement of a part of speech, a VerB; then what I am asking is far less. I don’t think you are being honest here. That is, I don’t feel I am being honest with myself here. This is evidence to me that you are a personality of my own, and not anything more, that the more is my secret hope for more, the one in seven billion chance, that you have/had a Reality of at least that of a Platonic Form. This is not an expectation, it was a tiny hope that anything is a possibility.
The one thing that gets your goat here, boy, is that you do not like it when anyone, even yourself, puts G---D into any clothes other than a concept that is understandable and without power. Is this not the very thing you hate, the arrogant and blasphemous (in your mind) concept that you, as a human being, can defend G---D?
Your point is well taken, and I have no immediate response.
In this game, I have the last word, my man, not you or anyone else. – Amorella.
I wonder, should I back away. Out of respect for the greatest of odds, I back away. A respect for a possibility not a probability. A respect for my dignity and out of humility to myself, to my lack of knowledge. You promised me three books and you delivered. You are working on the fourth, a book that will have my name attached as author. A fluke, an accident of nature, a misunderstanding . . . who knows the cause. The effect is the evidence in blog and drafts.
Post, old man. – Amorella.
I wish I could be positive, one hundred percent sure, without doubt, but I cannot and remain who I am (to myself).
You are an agnostic beyond reason, boy. It is as simple as that. – Amorella.
No comments:
Post a Comment