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
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