27 September 2012

Notes - Wrk. + Weaving Summary Statements Ch. 1.2.3 / Quantum M.


        Mid-morning. You dropped off the boys at daycare, stopped at McD's for breakfast and a paper, Carol is working on clothes washing and you have read most of the paper and checked your email. The 'weaving' will be automatic by keeping the three chapters as a unit. Do this, use Word to make a summary of each section then will put it together as a three chapter unit. - Amorella

         That seems easy enough. Who would have thought? This will be an interesting approach. I am curious to see how this works.

         Let's take time to do this and then place it in here for safekeeping. - Amorella

         1000 hours. I used various percentage points on the three chapters of The Dead and keyed on "Everyone pays the boatman." It did not appear until 35 percent. I am unsure which percent will be the most appropriate as well as efficient for this usage.

         First, all you will need is the summary so no need to keep the original as you can still gather it if need be. As such, keep it at forty percent but tie it together as a unit. Let's see what happens. - Amorella

         Thirty percent is two pages. I feel comfortable with that. I just discovered that all I have to do with the summary is hit it up to 100 percent and it's all there, so, I never did need a second copy. I did not realize this. Amazing. How do you catch these things before I do?

         Thirty percent will work.

         Maybe though when I put it altogether . . .

         You are not putting the entire chapters together as one, orndorff, only the sections. - Amorella

         Yes. You are right. It wouldn't make sense otherwise.

         Here is a fuller concept. As you have summarized a section such as the Dead, when we do the same, thirty percent of the next three chapter sections of the Dead, then we will place them together; when finished with the book we will have seven section summaries of the Dead. At that time we will summarize the seven into thirty percent to keep in mind for the second book. - Amorella

         I'll have to remember this, but it really does sound interesting.

         Let's see what we have. - Amorella

***
Dead.Summry.1.2.3

         This Merlyn. I have been here entangled between the living and the dead since the book Merlyn’s Mind was published in May 2008. Merlyn has a green felt covered flat table-in-mind with six standard billiard pockets but his mind never knows which is the pocket to the heart and which is the pocket to the soul.          “Merlyn, this is your ancestral mother.          Upon hearing Mother, Merlyn felt the smoothly rolling and solid black 8 ball in his billiard table mind whisper, 'Life is armor for the spirit.'          'I am sick at heart,' popped at the diamond cue ball mark in Merlyn's mind as a cautionary yellow 1 ball and was invisibly tapped to the near center of the table.

"Merlyn, it is confusing to be mind-placed in a thinking table."

         A quiet nearly invisible smirk crossed Merlyn's newly visible burnt orange 5 ball near the far side pocket.

         Merlyn stood, bowed slightly and announced as in a whisper to the world of the Living, "m'Lady."

       Merlyn responded, "She was in charge of constructing a bridge across the River Styx." It was only hours ago, thought Merlyn, that I witnessed the beginning of the Rebellion of the first fully conscious ten-thousand human spirits in Elysium, the Place of the Greek Dead. A brief and passing thought rolled slowly in a solid green 6 ball to the center billiard table of Merlyn’s mind, 'Wait,' he thought,, 'Today's Earth date is Sunday, 19 August 2012.          Merlyn sat alone on his heartansoulanmind-made stone on a fine Spring-like heartansoulanmind-made meadow just this side of the mysteriously dark forest.          Out of the corner of mind's eye Merlyn witnessed another once appear from behind the nearby giant oak.
         'The Boatman,' evoked the Supervisor.
         'You pay, boy,' snapped at Merlyn's tabled mind. 'Everybody pays the Boatman, even me, the Supervisor of the Dead.'
         Merlyn muttered, 'In Sophia's ancient Greek day the pearly white Gate of Heaven rested on the far side of her rubescent River Styx.'
The Lamar in question whispered to Merlyn’s heart. Merlyn’s mind registered 'Richard?” in the solid yellow 1 ball resting near the far left corner pocket. Merlyn’s mind grumbled, 'Who is this Richard Greystone?'
         'Whoa,' whispered Merlyn suddenly thinking of his first love, Vivian. Merlyn in a brighter awareness noticed the eight ball now setting alone on the very center of the green-felted mind-slate. I have no other balls, shuttered Merlyn, not even a cue ball to knock this mother-in-the-meadow of an eight ball off center.
Merlyn said, “This, my human spirit, runs on a deeper gravitational energy than love.          The Supervisor of the Dead surmised, ‘Merlyn is as wound as any alarm clock in the world of consciousness.          To the North of Merlyn's roughshod though comfortable wooden hut Merlyn sits on his smoothed stone chair. Merlyn glances north into the spiritual configuration of a securely woven cloth-like matrix to better dress the energetic and passionate cocoon of Merlyn's heartansoulanmind.
         On Merlyn's nearer right as he views north is a great bald granite dome. Merlyn thinks, 'this was once an unscalable scene by human and marsupial humanoid alike.'
Further into southwest of Merlyn's druidic domain are two wild apple trees with red melancholy thistles scattered about, both a delight to Merlyn’s heart and mind.
An astute Voice breathed into Merlyn's ghostly ear, "You pay the Boatman just like everyone else, boy. "Hello, Merlyn," said this human spirit who was once raised ancient Greek, "this is Sophia your friend and leader of the First Rebellion of the Dead."
         Sophia begins to walk towards Merlyn and stubs her right big toe on a   stone nearly buried in the meadow grass.          Surprised at this uncalled-for scene Merlyn noted, ‘Sophia just stumbled onto that mother of an 8 ball in my mind.’
***
Brothers.Sumry.1.2.3

         Robert Greystone gave a swift glance at his younger brother and arrogantly said, “Richie, what the world are you talking about?”
         Richard continued his spiel, “The brain and the mind are separate entities. My fanciful Captain Lamar brings me slave stories on his ferry across the Ohio River in my head.          “Right. Lamar’s small ferry travels from Mason County, Kentucky to Ripley, Ohio in your head.
Captain Lamar follows the famous route of the historic Underground Railroad.”
         “Captain Lamar is from the underground in my head.          Robert quipped, “So is your fiction, Dickie."
         “The stories are corded from the spine to the brain and then on to the mind," responded Richard.
         Richard’s eyes narrowed, “You’re the better poet.”
         “Captain Lamar just delivers the stories, Rob. I know where it’s from, Rob, but the mind is not the brain.”
         “I’m retired just as you are,” noted Richard, “neurologists argue on the definition of mind. Here’s the first revised Merlyn chapter, read it over.”
         “I have a better understanding today,” answered Richard truthfully.
Richard chuckled, “I thought there was going to be a real railroad.”
We have freedom,” said Robert.          Richard retorted, “And you surgeons are really tight fitting bloated conservatives.”
         Richard scoffed, “They are called first year students today."
“I don’t know why you can’t just stick with poetry," said brother Robert. “We could publish a good book of poems together. Richard smiled nonchalantly, “Balls and words both cut and slice.”
         Robert looked over his glasses after a quick skim of the chapter. The Dead dream like this,” declared Richard with an air of unconscious authority.
I'm reworking it,” stated Richard. He left Robert to read more closely while he headed downstairs to see spouse and sister-in-law. Who would have thought?

What are you watching?” asked Robert.
Richard not stirring from his comfortable easy chair, said, “An old National Geographic rerun on DNA. Where’s your latest Harper’s?”
What did he say first, thought Richard. “I give you my poetry mags in short order.” complained Rob. “Hey, what’d you think of my first chapter?” snapped Richard. Restless, Robert headed to the refrigerator, “Where’s the high test Coke?"
“Golf's on ESPN,” said Rob coming into the room.
“Where’s Lady?”
Richard spoke lazily in empathy with their pet, “She’s sleeping on the living room couch. When Cyndi's gone Lady heads for the couch. While watching a terrific putt by Mark Wilson both snickered imperiously as the golfing crowd clapped rewardingly, Robert said, “Where's Lady? Wake the old girl up for me.”
         “Lady!” shouted Richard, “Come here, girl!” A commercial later, Richard shouted again, “Lady!”          “Damn dog,” grumbled Richard as he rolled out of the couch.
         Robert heard the growl then another “Damn!” It’s okay,” coaxed Rob in a soft voice. My Jack would never bite me, thought Rob. His slight smirk made it clear to Richard what his brother was thinking.
         Robert pulled up Lady’s right ear. Rob gently petted her, “It’ll be okay girl. Pretty Lady,” he continued, stroking the venerable tan and white cocker spaniel until Richard arrived with the small box of ear cleaning material.
         “Everyone wants a donation,” said Robert.
         “I agree,” responded Richard as he flipped the channel back to ESPN.          “Why didn’t Truman do that?” said Robert.          “War is not humane,” commented Richard.
         Robert countered, “But it’s human enough.”
“War dogs take care of their own,” noted Richard.
“War dogs hardly ever bite the hand that feeds them,” snickered Robert.
         “Remember Rob," jibed Richard as he stuck his right forefinger in the air, "a bone in the hand is worth more meat in the bush. Both laughed.

         The next day Richard walked up the steps and down the hall to Robert’s present study.

         “This room is like our old club house as kids. No women allowed,” announced Richard.

         “Just as well,” responded his brother.

         Robert replied, “I'll tell Connie as Memorial Day is coming up.”

         “I still like walking Lady through the cemetery in the morning.”

         “Just like Papa used to do,” chuckled Robert.          Smiling with restored energy Richard sat across from his father's old work desk.          “Fun times,” declared Robert.

         Robert sighed, “Dad never said, but Mom thought it was haunted too. "Published?"

"Why did I even ask?" moaned Robert.

"You know I'm looking for an old copy of Ferlinghetti’s "Coney Island of the Mind".

Robert mumbled, "Old books are one of the few things we have in common these days.          "Julie usually borrows the poetry to show her classes."

         "Julie always wanted to be a teacher like Richard."

         "Does she still call him Uncle Dickie?" giggled Cyndi.

Both laughed.
        
         Exasperated, Cyndi snapped, "Richard says he doesn't care.

***
         Problem with Grandma stories summary as each story is different.. Do I summarize each separately then put them together?
         Yes, that will work better and keep consistency even though you could go to twenty percent each story. - Amorella
         I can try both. I think twenty percent ought to be enough for me to remember the story line.
         If so,         you need to note the point of each story. - Amorella
         Why? I don't see a framework behind each story other than the spirit has a problem.
         State the problem each has and how Merlyn would resolve it. - Amorella
         I don't know if or how Merlyn can resolve each problem, Amorella.
         State the problem so that the reader might resolve it then. - Amorella
         I don't think the reader will be up to it. I don't know if I would be up to it, Amorella.
         You are being arrogant, but not arrogant enough. I have rearranged books four, five and six to fit; so this is the way we do it. - Amorella
         As you wish. Sometimes I think I can see where this book is going but other times I am not so sure.
         We are giving those interested something to consider, to think about before they are dead, boy. This is what you have been doing for the last forty years of your life one way or another, let's try to put this to a good use. There are no good intentions in trying to understand who you are in relationship to the Whole-of-Matter-as-You-Understand-It. A science and philosophy mix about. Right? - Amorella
         I cannot go so broad and so narrow as you, Amorella.
         Be the human being you are, boy. That's all I am asking here. - Amorella
***
Grandma’s Story 1

         This is Grandma Earth. You may consider this genetic memory if you are not inclined to accept the fact that human beings have a heartansoulanmind memory.

         Grandma Earth doesn't care what human beings think. Grandma’s old dark eyes glanced off the page, “And without your ancestors you would not exist either.”

***

I have a long ago story for you, said Grandma. I am stuck.          My fingers are cold and full of ice. The birds sing. I am floating and cold. I have ice-cold fingers, the Living listen. I remember time; it is in my own cold dawn. I am the shaman dancing and I am in half a spirit living and half a spirit dead.
The dancing stopped. None of the onlookers slept well that night.
                  One of those attentive listeners to the shaman, Panagiotakis, is Glevema, his granddaughter. People had become respecting the Dead in the time of the Shaman who still felt freezing cold, and people buried the Dead with rites and passages, thus accommodating both the Living and the Dead at the same time. Glevema became the first human consciousness-in-spirit to enter the Place of the Dead.

*
         Glevema knows Grandma Earth with her white teeth gleaning through white paper usually unsoiled with shadows. The kerchief on my head ain’t nothin' but the stars. The white of her puffy eyes showed mysteriously dark pupils. Like other higher consciousnesses, Merlyn, in dreams or not, realizes existing deadanliving is more than meets the eye. In a timeless corridor where musing memories rightly tie
From romance and Grandma's red, tooth-filled gums

Grandma’s Story 2

Grandma traces Homo sapiens’ genetic Eve’s DNA through various shamans or storytellers because they understand Merlyn's use trancephysics, though not by that name. Trancephysics is a vehicle Merlyn uses to slide his spirit through the heart of Captain Lamar, the heart that is in reality the heart of Richard Greystone, the younger brother of Robert. 
Quantum and Chaos theories graduated like everyone else living from the last century to the present one where the Living exists. There are earlier time-tested qualities of heart and soul and mind than the one Merlyn livingandead is presenting.          Merlyn deadanliving intuitively sides with the poet though he appreciates the modern sciences.          Define the human heart, the soul, and the human mind. Is the human heart and soul and mind science or philosophy? What is the entanglement within a single human spirit?          Stranger experiences than this happen within the broader human experience. People have family stories hesitantly told because the stories are beyond belief. Glevema soon realized these other human-like spirits with heartsansoulsanminds appeared as she did deadanliving, had been physically similar to human beings on Earth. As Glevema was the first of humankind to find a way to the Place of the Dead she was allowed to stay, but once a few human spirits made their way to this Place she was allowed to form an Earth oriented Place of the Dead. In those times the human spirit worked within the engine of passion for acceptance and for learning how to better balance the appearance of separation between heart and soul and mind. The shaman dreamed a new story. “The cold, icy fingers of the Dead feel their way back to our Mother Earth. The Dead are within us.
Stones don’t move so easily as the spirits do.”
The stones never move themselves, but some people claimed that they could sense the stone moving within, as if something living was trapped in the stone. People have a spirit and so do stones. Stones can appear dead on the outside but be living on the inside. People can appear living on the outside and be dead on the inside. Stone and people have that in common.
*
Grandma snickered. 
From two venerable human hearts created to sing
Vivien and Merlyn on Charon’s ferry flow
This time when Grandma chants and hums,
***
Grandma’s Story 3

A young woman by the name of Qwinta stands staring at a multi-shaded orange maple leaf. To touch this enchanting maple leaf Princess Qwinta more earnestly imagines . . .
When the paddle is lifted from the water, a ripple ensues. The ripple is a wave with a reflected orange in the Maple leaf . . .
The swirling spirit, the sculling spirit also manifests itself into the maple tree reflected water is swirled into this lone maple leaf as the paddle rises . . .
I, Qwinta, a Princess spirit and mind, am the causal connection between the Living and the Dead just as the maple tree, paddle and canoe, are the one; the only causal connection between the sun, the color and this fallen maple leaf.

Get in Grandma's way and pay.
This story of light leafs from orange and sun
A maple leaf and another imagination sprang.

***
         I will have to consider each story, but above are the summaries of each Grandma story 1, 2, 3.
         Do the summary for Pouch, drop in and take a break. Do not post until you have your Grandma story considerations in bold below each story. - Amorella

***
Diplomatic Pouch 1
         Pyl Williams-Burroughs sat straight and narrow upfront, to the left of the pilot, her brother Blake, The second row seat behind Pyl had been taken out allowing her thirty-three year old husband, Justin, to comfortably sit stretching his legs from the third row of cabin seats.          Pyl turned excitedly, "Jus, what'd you think of the auto show?"
         "I liked it.          "Who would have thought we would fly to this year's show back in October," commented Justin.
         "Warm winter, so far," added Pyl somberly while thinking, if we ditch in the lake we'll have no ice to land on.
         Eyeing his brother-in-law, Justin asked, "Isn't this a pretty old plane?"
         Pyl reflected, when this plane was new Daddy had the most comfortable leather seats, then said aloud, "Daddy loved this plane, didn't he Blakey?"
         Sighing in the upcoming air of redundancy and wondering how many times Justin had heard about the Cessna, he dryly commented, "Daddy loved this plane, Pyl.”          Pyl cracked back, "We took so many family trips."          Justin perked at Pyl's fresh defensive tone and musing, ‘never-ending family squabbles.          Talking deeply and under breath, Blake commented matter-of-factly, "We are a go on 33."
Blake quickly adjusted and settled the flight.
         "Was it a bird?" asked Pyl cautiously.
         Blake picked up the small binoculars for a quick inspection, "There's a crack near the wing tip light.          "I don't know, Justin."          "Squeeze me some," ordered Pyl.          "What for?" moaned Justin.          "Not much thanks Blakey.          The woman has such an odd dialect, thought Justin as he picked up a small envelope for Pyl. Noting the stranger’s dark Mediterranean-like eyes, he first gave Pyl the envelope and then extended his hand and said, "I'm Justin. This is my wife, Pyl and that's her brother, Blake, on the stool."
         The words echoed through Friendly's marsupial humanoid mind and into her marsupial humanoid heart. 'I am Justin - this is my wife Pyl and that's my brother Blake on the stool.' We cannot phantom why Ship allowed the collision.          "Yes," Friendly gave her hand to Pyl, "that's my given name, and you are Pill?"
         Pyl giggled, "My brother couldn't pronounce my real name so I have been stuck with Pyl ever since."
         Friendly turned slightly and shook Justin's hand, "And you are the brother?"
Blake is still inspecting the damage."
         Blake commented, "We think a bird hit the wingtip light.          A slight crack, thought Friendly. Ship was considerate.          "Blake,” complained Pyl, "Daddy would never want us to sell this plane. She's family."
I'll contact you tomorrow," responded Blake with a bit more politeness than he desired.
***
Diplomatic Pouch 2

         The next morning Blake rambled down the stairs to find Pyl and Justin sitting at the table with toast and a cup of coffee and the Cleveland Plain Dealer.          "Right."

         "Why is that?" said Justin. "Pyl and I were talking about this earlier."

         Pyl commented, "Justin thinks the woman has a mixed Boston and Brooklyn accent.          Justin quickly added, "Sell the plane and gain a businessman’s wife, is that the plan, old man."

         "Then we'd have the plane back," joked Pyl; afterwards thinking that wouldn't be a bad idea.

'We live in the family house together. Ship hovers well above the air traffic and well below any orbiting satellites. Friendly sits around a handsomely dark p2wooded table-from-the-floor with Hartolite and Yermey. Ship's floor is a living piece of bio-diverse machinery from his outer hull to his antigravobars pulse that allows these three perspicacious marsupial humanoids to serve as Ship's heart, Ship's humanity heart, but not Ship's mind which mostly is his own.

Yermey stated, "I'm more interested in why Ship allowed the Cessna wingtip's touch. With gazed eyes narrowing Captain Friendly commented, "Ship allowed a touch not a collision. Besides, an electromagnetic anomaly may have allowed the plane to tap Ship.
***
Diplomatic Pouch 3

"How is the company, Blake?" asked Justin as they headed to the comfortable couch and two high back chairs in the Bose media room. Once Blake adjusted the smooth jazz to play in the background and they were comfortably relaxed. Blake talked as the CEO of Electronic Communication Software.
         Justin smiled, "Who would have thought Fenn Engineering would become Cleveland State."
I love that big screened in side porch."
         Pyl strolled in from the back yard.          "I'm thinking about getting that maple cut down, Pyl, it's getting old; and, it’s the highest tree out back.          Justin glanced at the rising anger in Pyl’s face and turned up the Walter Beasley sax rendition of "Do You Wanna Dance," as he took a slow sip of his Coke thinking on how Blake throws the bait and Pyl almost always picks it up.  Hartolite whispered, “Do you need a little more action, Yermey? She noted his typically quiet smile as his right hand slowly slid into her silky smooth and warm pouch. My right hand rests in dreamland. Hartolite echoed the snicker.
Friendly is always upbeat and positive.          Meanwhile, Hartolite and Friendly had come to a mutual conclusion.
*** (1148)
         Mid-afternoon. Carol finished three sets of clothes. You had a nap. Subway picnic at Horseshoe Lake Park. Carol is reading the newest Newsweek. Paul is off at three but will be studying. Carol is having leftovers for supper (her choice), you and Paul are having Chinese takeout. He is picking up the boys. Spitting rain and in the fifties but you are appreciative as it is a rather pleasant Fall day in any case, and surprising cheap in that lunch was six dollars and that included the chips. You brought your own drinks.
         1407 hours. I will look over the Grandma stories but I would just as soon begin these next three chapters.
         Owen just was put to bed.
         2151 hours. Here are the summary statements for chapters one, two and three.
         I accept your statements. Drop them in here, then post. - Amorella

***
Chapters 1.2.3.Summary Statements for Weaving

The Dead 1.2.3
The ever-learning Dead live in a transparent setting; a visitor can glean information from their heartansoulanmind wrappings of what is important in the deadanliving spirit in the existential moments of the visit. 

The Brothers 1.2.3
Richard and Robert have mutual interests in writing. Connie and Cyndi appear closer than the identical twins. Richard is more right brained (creative), Robert, more left (analytical). Robert cares more than Richard.  

**
Grandma's Story 1.2.3

Story 1
Like other higher consciousnesses, Merlyn, in dreams or not, realizes existing deadanliving is more than meets the eye.

Story 2
In those times the human spirit worked within the engine of passion for acceptance and for learning how to better balance the appearance of separation between heart and soul and mind.

Story 3
Get in Grandma's way and pay.
This story of light leafs from orange and sun;
A maple leaf and another imagination sprang.

**
Diplomatic Pouch 1.2.3

This existential story is the observation of two alien species (marsupial and primate); who since the second rebellion of the Dead, are consciously sharing HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither. The Living alien species are becoming acquainted. Pouch is an introductory costume ball, mixed species only.

***
         We can work on the next three chapters for weaving now that you better understand the first three. - Amorella


         2218 hours. Can these statements be included at the beginning of each story as something similar to Asimov's Encyclopedia Galactica?

         We can work on this but not as an encyclopedia file.

         It just hit me out of the blue. Perhaps not Merlyn as such but Merlyn within the quantum entanglement.

         This is possible also. Something relative to your and Doug's concept of light and thought having similar enough 'twin' properties in terms of quantum entanglement. - Amorella

         This I like. A statement of thought from a quantum entanglement that also helps the reader focus.

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