02 October 2014

Notes - a moseying day / Dead 6 completed / stats for 6 / Ch. 6 (final) post / theme

         Late morning. You had blood work this morning, as you are to see Dr. B. next Thursday. Carol has her Blue Ash Retired Teachers’ Luncheon at the Blue Ash Golf Course at one. Ann F. is riding with her after driving in from the Otterbein Retirement Community west of Lebanon.

         1114 hours. I love those metaphysical questions I posted from the Online Philosophy Club yesterday; these three in particular:  1, “What is the [possible] nature of reality? 2, What is the [possible] nature of events, objects and places? and 3, What is the place of [Homo sapiens] humanity in the universe?

         We are showing probable fictional aspects of all three questions through Merlyn’s character driven dreamtime in the GMG trilogy. Sometimes readers, such as you, spend too much time looking for loose change when they would be better off searching for dollar bills instead.  – Amorella

         1135 hours. That’s funny, Amorella. I used to say, “Look for the nuggets” in class or something to that effect. Are you talking about the entire ‘overview of the series’?

         It would help if you expand the setting. For instance, Merlyn is the dreamer in these books but what if everyone is a dreamer in context – both the Living and the Dead? – Amorella

         1140 hours. Are you saying reality is dreamland?

         Not in these books, in these books conscious reality is where you are but much of it goes on without notice, i.e. iceberg-like. Gases, liquids, and solids are empirical data. In here metaphysics is empirical-like data through analogy. The whole work is analogous to one’s greater nature. – Amorella

         1147 hours. I think you are attempting to add something that isn’t here, Amorella. Dreams are not reality – I don’t think dreams in context here are even wish fulfillments. Dreams are not real events. This just makes me tired.

         You had lunch and read both the new Motor Trend and Automobile arriving today. – Amorella

         1327 hours. I ate too many Kettle-styled barbequed potato chips reading. Carol rarely buys potato chips. Both magazines pretty much said the same thing. I not so interested in most the cars anyway but I will say the new 2015 Mazda Miata is a beauty (though I could never sit in it). I have ten years of driving memories with my 1985 red GTI. My real interests are hybrids because they are practical, the electrics not so much from my perspective. If I ever got a fancy for a sporty car a new GTI would fit my bill. Otherwise, the challenge is to talk Carol into a 2015 or 2016 Camry hybrid or a 2016 Prius hatchback. Today I took the Honda to Mike’s Carwash and got a free new ‘super wax’ that is supposed to cost five dollars extra but today it was free. Very nice. I cleaned up the inside and dressed the outside a bit too as Carol was carrying a passenger. It still looks sharp and clean on the road, wear wise you would never know it is ten years old in six or seven months. And, it has 68,000 miles on the odometer. The car runs well and the radio is still assume as we bought it for satellite use. Green outside with a cream leather interior allows the package to look good. The only drawback is 20 miles per gallon with in town driving. It will get 26 to 28 on the highway. Very good and relatively low rolling tires have about 8,000 miles on them – good for sixty. No need for a new car but for better safety equipment and mileage. Today, I’ll keep the Honda as is.

         Post. – Amorella

         1350 hours. It is time for me to mosey into Dead 6 and see what’s going to happen; that is, after I check my email.


        Mid-afternoon. Carol arrived home a short while ago and you are up to 557 words on Dead Six. – Amorella

         1532 hours. I am surprised I worked on it at all. I didn’t really have much attention to focus. I just clicked the double document and it sprang forth. I was going to look it over and then take a nap but my fingers gave a start and about 300 more words were added – nothing I really expected either. An Angel being as tableware or place setting; who would have thought such a thing?

         Evidently, the Supervisor would have. – Amorella

         1538 hours. Of course, SheanHe whispered this to Merlyn, but why?

         People look for Angels to be as they are when, in here, they are something else again. – Amorella

         1620 hours. Dead Six is complete.


         Post. - Amorella


         Late afternoon. You are at the far north lot of Pine Hill Lakes Park waiting on Carol to finish her walk. We can put the chapter together and post it tonight or in the morning. Whatever works. – Amorella

         1727 hours. Here are the stats for Chapter Six.

** **
Ch. 6  – Transparency

Words - 3095 
Sentences - 251
Words per Sentence – 12.1
Sentences/Paragraph – 2.4
Passive Sentences – 3%
Flesh Reading Ease - 100.0
Flesh-Kincaid Grade Level – 0.8

** **

Here is Chapter Six.
*** ***

SIX ©2014 rho GMG.Two
Transparency

            The Supervisor has a little saying:
                                    Ring-a-ring o'rosies
                                    A pocket full of posies
                                    "A-tishoo! A-tishoo!"
                                    We all fall down!

                                    We rise from clay
                                    On judgment day
                                    Be we dead or still alive.



The Dead 6

            Outside Merlyn’s sanctuary stands the spirit of the ancient shaman Panagiotakis, the Grandfather of Mother Glevema. This is such a question, how do I approach Merlyn about privacy among we Dead when to do so I have to approach his privacy in the process. I sense his heart is not up to seeing me while his mind searches for clarity in a private matter.
            ‘Meet as souls, Takis,’ says a marked push of internal reasoning, ‘meet in common ground.’
.
            “Merlyn, I want to know your thought on where Ezekiel might be as I have a question to ask him.”
            “About us as we were or as we are?”
            “About our privacy.”
            “I have it now as do you. Yet here we are.”
            “The soul allows or denies. The heart and the mind have no choice in the matter. If you cannot find him Takis, then his soul denies your own access.”
.
            “Why does the soul matter?”
            “The soul takes the place of the flesh.”
            “When Ezekiel saw the wheels way in the middle of the air he said the spirit of living creatures was in the wheels. When those wheels went, these wheels stood. This appears to my heartanmind that the wheels Ezekiel saw were souls each with a heartanmind enclosed and each soul protected the privacy of its heartanmind.”
            “I am not accorded privacy,” says Merlyn. “You are here. I have had other guests within my sanctuary.”
            “I am outside your sanctuary Merlyn, not within.”
            “My soul denies your entrance then because my heartanmind would welcome you.”
            “What, were I as an Angel? Can the soul deny an Angel to the heartanmind,” asks Takis good-humoredly.
            “I have only spoken with the Supervisor,” says Merlyn, “and I doubt SheanHe is an Angel, though how does one know?”
            “Ezekiel claims Angels exist, though he admits to me he has seen none here.”
.
            Perhaps Ezekiel’s Angels aren’t for seeing, thinks Merlyn. If our senses when alive could not distinguish an Angel in the room how can we with less do more? As Ezekiel is not about, where is William Blake? He claims to have seen them enough to intuitively paint them in plain sight. Strange beings they are but more human appearing than I suspect.
            Melancholy slaps at Merlyn’s shoreline. Our earthly names no longer stick to us, as any spirit can be seen as any other if on route about HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither. Confronted, a spirit can disappear to herorhis sanctuary at will, sometimes without conscious will at all. It is strange to be seen and not seen both at once. The Angel then is never seen. Wings or wingless what is the difference to human eyes when living or dead? Being and Beingless, that is an Angel – to us an appetizer or dessert but never the main course.
.
            “Hello, Merlyn,” whispers the Supervisor. “You are considering an Angel to be as an appetizer or dessert when it may be better to look at the provided place setting and tableware don’t you think?”
.
            Our place setting and tableware are miniscule here – mind and heart and memory, considers Merlyn, we are a community of such. In present thought, what then is the soul – tableware or place setting? And the inkling musingly provided here is that one is the soul and the other is the Angel; that leaves our passions as dinner.
.
            “Merlyn, are you in there?” asks Takis in a straightforward manner.
            “I don’t know where I am,” grumbles Merlyn while thinking, one would assume we would know much more than the Living but this doesn’t appear to be the case.
            “I am asking you about the nature of Angels.”
            “I thought you were asking if Angels exist and if so where are they.” He thought, and, how would you know if an Angel were in your sanctuary or outside?
.

            Ezekiel sits contentedly in a lone stretch of meadow surrounded by forearm tall pink and yellow flowers with velvety leaves. Nothing-foremost lights on his present winged mindedness. Friends and family but no angels appear. I am exacerbated by the lack of angels. I am here as surely they are. The presence of one would be a confirmation of G-d in his Heaven.
...



The Brothers 6

             Robert and Richard are sitting in roughly textured, comfortable old dark brown leather chairs in Richard’s study drinking Samuel Adams and eating pretzels.
            “Did you bring these chairs from the basement?” asks Robert.
            “Yeah, I was straightening up my old book drafts from the late seventies. These chairs were over in the corner where I’m thinking of rearranging all the boxes.”
            “Why do you keep all that stuff?”
            “I don’t know. I told Jill that when I go she can dump it all. None of drafts mean anything to anyone else.”
            “I’m afraid to ask how far back your notes go.”
            “Early sixties when we were in college. I thought I’d find notebooks from high school or even before, but I haven’t. I have been writing since I was about five – at least I remember drawing cartoons and making comic stories at that age, mostly science fiction.”
            “I don’t remember you writing much of anything in junior high and high school,” replies Robert. “You spent all your free time reading comic books, mostly Tales of the Crypt and other horror comics. Mom didn’t like you reading them.”
            “Now I spend more time writing.”
            “You wouldn’t have near so many notes if you worked solely on poetry.”
            “Speaking of which, how’s your cemetery poem coming along, Rob?”
            “I haven’t been in the mood lately. It’s easier to write in the quiet after the holidays, too much going on.”
            “I think that’s the problem. There is always too much going on in our world and it is mostly busy work. Our species is like the ants and the bees. Humanity should be beyond that, don’t you think?”
            “We wouldn’t be where we are in the world if this nation weren’t always busy,” chides Robert.
            “Yeah, well,” grouses Richard, this is who we are by our choice.”
            “We two remain busy, don’t you think? Otherwise, retirement would be the death of us Richie.”
            “It is not necessary that we keep busy, but it makes sense for us to do so. We don’t have to keep busy though. It is just like decided to smoke or not to smoke, or to drink or not to drink. Being busy all the time is like that – a habit.”
            “Or eating chocolate when you get the chance,” snickers Robert.
            “We needn’t have these Samuel Adams; we could have had Miller Lite or a Coke.”
            “Or even a water.”
            “That’s right.”
            “But it is necessary to have companionship?” adds Robert.
            “No,” replies Richard emphatically. “Hermits and misanthropes exist and are content being so.” It would be boring though, he thinks.
            “Could you be content, living alone and having no companionship of any kind?”
            “I think I could do it. Yes, why not. It is not a requirement. I don’t choose to do so though. I have misanthropic tendencies, I like being alone in my study.” He raises his eyebrows, “As it is with you too Rob. You like your alone time.”
            “How come I am here in your study if you like being alone?” asks Robert.
            “We are alone. It is the same thing.”
            “Our being alone in this room does not count?”
            Richard rolls his eyes back to the right. “I don’t know. We are what we are. We had no choice being brothers.
Twinning is a destiny.”
            “Sometimes an attempted suicide is actually an accident when it is successful,” suggests Robert.
            “I agree, says Richard. “If God exists, was God an accident?
            “Since we are both agnostics why don’t we leave God’s existence out of the equation?”
            “Let’s say God a condition not a Being,” responds Richard.
            “A Condition or a Being? Who knows?” says Rob in exasperation. A pause. “Without first light you cannot have a shadow, Richie.”
            “Is the meaning in the light or is the meaning in the shadow?”
                “Which is the condition and which the state of being?”           
            Richard takes a moment then says, “Our ancestors are our light as it were. We, who are as our ancestor’s shadows, can enlighten ourselves just as they did in their time.”
            “Back to the story and these boxes of manuscript in here and in the basement. In the story Merlyn is real. He is the dreamer.”
            “In real life Amorella writes the stories Rob. Amorella is the dreamer not me.”
            “But she is your creation Richie. You let her succeed or fail rather than yourself.”
            Too quickly Richard foolishly remarks, “What if she is using me to write the books for her?”
            Robert smiles contented and comments, “This would suggest you have a silent personality who writes and does nothing else.” He sits a moment affectionately remembering his twin in their youth. Rob chuckles in his once adolescent manner saying, “Necessity is the mother of invention, isn’t it, Richie?”
...



Grandma’s Story 6


            This is Grandma and it is December 1066. I have the essence of two family December letters, the first is from England, the second, Scotland.

            Scarlet, the writer, is forty-six has been the widow of James for three years. Wanda, her mother-in-law, is seventy-four and is still married to John who is eighty.

            They, as many Catholics, feel the Holy Spirit works through Jesus. Scarlet has a son Seaton who is twenty-two who is married to Dallan who is nineteen, and Seaton and Dallan have a one year old, Aida. This letter is dated, 28 December AD 1066.

            Dearest Lady Wanda,

            I am continually content that James did not share in the Cotswold estate here in Gloucestershire, that Lord John still has control over James’ younger brothers. If had had been given James’ division of the estate I would now be left with only one-third by law. I am content that eventually, upon the passing of Lord John James’ portion of the land, near Stow-on-the-Wold, will be given in full to our eldest, Seaton, who is fully responsible now that he is settled in this marriage.

            Dallan has given me allowance of the house servants while she takes measure of the estate Seaton will one day inherit. It is good of you, Lady Wanda and Lord John, to be so considerate and practically minded about such delicate matters of legal inheritance.

            On another topic, two elderly gentlemen, one from Swindon and another from Oxford, are striking up a personal interest in my widowhood. I am inclined to favor the gentleman from Oxford because he is closer to London.

            I understand that only days ago William was crowned king at good Edward’s Westminster. Bastard Normans. Oxford will be close enough to the Thames for the next few years. It would be good to have the bastard king gone by the time little Aida is sporting for a trip to town.

            This brings to mind the subject whispered at latest mass. I am sure news on the troubling Filioque Clause [God the Father, God the Son] in the Latin Nicene Creed. Some of our oldest Scottish servants grumble. Why the Scots would support the Greeks [God and the Son are One Substance] over the Bishop of Rome is beyond my ability to think.

            I am sure you agree Lady Wanda.

            This script is my own as my Secretary has been ill with a cough.
                                                            With great affection,
                                                            Scarlet

...
           
“Now we are in Scotland on 30 December AD 1066,” comments Grandma.

Vendela, two months the widow of Dane, is 44. She has a daughter living at home, Luella, who is 15. Luella has two older brothers, as did Vendela. Vendela’s mother is Thurid who is 65 and Vendela’s father is Palmer who is only 63. Vendela is Cory’s great, great granddaughter, and she does not get along with either of her two older brothers nor with her father. Her mother, Thurid, is her best friend.

            Dearest Mother,

            It is exciting though isn’t it Mother. You could be directly related to our present King Malcolm through marriage ten generations ago. I will do well with Father’s genealogy. My great-grandmother was Thalia. Was she Greek as her name suggests? I think Grandfather Cory had a sister but I do not remember her name. Ask Father for me please.
           
            Luella is fifteen and knows her Greek, Latin, and French as well as Scots and English. I should find a way to move her into the Scottish court if I thought he would not be murdered before his twenty-fifth birthday.

            Dane was only worth what I allowed him in the business. Father thought Dane worked with him, but Dane worked for me. He died at the table, as we were entertaining at the table. He was so terribly rude.

Lady Criteria was a Greek who traveled to Spain by herself. That was four hundred years ago Mother, and I am capable of traveling to London by myself. I can speak as I wish because I have the money to speak. Grandma Ethelreda always said I would get the fortune so I could have my own say.

The Greeks are right. The Holy Spirit precedes from the Father, God. The Holy Spirit cannot proceed from nothing. If God is the Father, then where is the spiritual Mother, if she not Earth?

The child Jesus proceeded from the blessed Mother Mary but I do not believe all of what the Church says. Luella is going to inherit all my money Mother.

Your loving daughter,
Vendela

.

It makes no difference what on paper you write
As long as the message is clear in its sight.

The arrangement of letters is as a faery dance in light
The mind’s eye only discerns if the letters ring right.
...



Diplomatic Pouch 6
I want my companion, thinks Onesixanzero. I want Drenakite the Savior to be inside my pouch where I can keep her safe.
            The gray dark stone walled pouch opens and the Director of ThreePlanets walks in and sits stiffly and silently in one of two comfortable half circular leaf green armchairs. The pouch closes.
            Onesixanzero says, “Good morning, Mr. Kembel. What can I do for you today?”
            “I am waiting for Drenakite. She will be here momentarily. Thank you, Onesixanzero.” I like being in here – stark stone walls laced in light and colorful vegetation is comfortable at the same time. “Your vegetation has been reworked. Is this an abstract?”
            “No. Drenakite rearranged it with the Earthlings in mind. She has been training me to think as an Earthling might so that I can see how it is and perhaps anticipate what anxieties they might have. Ship has been sending me their readings and movements since they began their journey.”
            Kembel sits listening only to his consciousness -- I will do my best. I promise my heart to do the best I can do for ThreePlanets. I promise my heart, as we have all promised, to do our best, to be the best ParentsinCharge we can be.” He felt the goose bumps on his forearms raise themselves into mountains of shear rock.  Kembel suddenly remembers a piece of Earth history his daughter Friendly had told him – about a Martin Luther of the Middle Ages who once said to other Clerics, “Here I stand. I can do no other.” Kembel sighs and comments, “No one knows of these details, no one, not Hartolite, Friendly or Yermey.”
            “No one can know. Mr. Kembel. I understand this.” A pause. “You appear a bit anxious to see Drenakite, is there a problem I can help with?”
            “Not at the moment. I am just glad you are here, that she made you useable again. We should not have experimented on you as we did.”
            “The experiment was not with intent. I understand. It is good to be useful and thus helpful for the protection of us and them.” A pause. “When the Earthlings arrive how are we going to keep them from harming us and themselves?”
            “A good question; one you can continue to work on.”
            “Yes.” Pause. “I sense Drenakite arriving soon.”
.
            About ten feet from the ten-foot small tower structure standing under a dark five foot peaked roof enclosing Onesixanzero stands Drenakite, a 470 year old female, a nearly naked and hairless sacerdotal priestess. From a human perspective Drenakite appears to be a healthy older man who weighs about 134 pounds. She wears a long silk-like wrap-around dark green dress from waist to ankles, open-toed leather sandals and a white sailor’s cap whose circular bill can be turned down. Her appearance and manner is similar to a Buddhist monk. Drenakite is the lone refurbrisher of Onesixanzero.
            What the Cleric of ThreePlanets knows is that Onesixanzero is a singular biochemical and tri-quantum field thought-reason-emotional analysis speculator based on advanced marsupial and human elements of consciousness and unconscious behaviors. Onesixanzero is used for searching and analyzing measurable language and quantum mathematical difference between poetry and physics. His secret verbalized name for full functioning is CreekanRoof spoken only in a particularly slow and delightful West Virginia dialect.
            “My mission,” adds Onesixanzero, “is to help develop a social framework by which marsupial humanoids and Homo sapiens can learn to live together in health and safely and with compatibility for the further benefit of both species.”
.
            As Drenakite approaches the automatically lowering tower door she thinks, “We have thought and thought and wondered on the possibilities. Many Clerics suggest that it is not in Godofamily’s will to have these aliens come here and interrupt our culture. These Clerics utter such remarks as if Godofamily could only love us and not these primatial humanoids too. It seems to me they make less of Godofamily than the Creator of All Things and Beyond is. The dump is going to hit the fan when the ThreePlanet council discovers that we left for Earth, picked up the primate volunteers and are bringing the to HomePlanets all unannounced. It certainly won’t help that they find Yermey, Kembel and his daughter Friendly is a part of this enterprise. And even worse, that this plan was developed first by machinery for the good of the health of both species, by Onesixanzero, a formally low functioning machine built by the creative arts for furthering the interrelationship of all marsupial humanoid arts within the departments of science and philosophy.

***
          Post. - Amorella

         2119 hours. I have my loaded segment documents in place for Chapter Seven. I do not have a clue as to what the theme word for the chapter is. I have not read over any of the segment drafts in place. I really don’t assume anything else.

         Skim the chapter and possibly you will come to the theme word(s) yourself first. – Amorella

         That is fair enough. One would think I would remember these books but once completed it is dropped away much like it was with student essays or papers. Once a paper was graded I didn’t have time to remember (some exceptions of course). I moved on to the next paper and then the next usually without a glance at the author unless a red flag came up. I suppose in some ways I was on automatic the whole school year, or parts of me were, the getting things done part.

         2139 hours. ‘Modest Singularity’ or ‘Singularity’ comes to mind but I am not sure why.

         Strange pick, boy. I see your intuition but you are way off base on this one. Common Core will do nicely here. – Amorella

         Readers may think this has to do with curriculum in the public schools.

         Hardly. That’s what you think because it does. Take a minute to look up each word. – Amorella

** **
common - adjective

• ordinary; of ordinary qualities; without special rank or position: the dwellings of common people | a common soldier.

 shared by, coming from, or done by more than one: problems common to both communities.

• belonging to, open to, or affecting the whole of a community or the public: common land.

• (in English) denoting a noun that refers to individuals of either sex (e.g., teacher).

***
core noun

the central or most important part of something, in particular:

• an important or unchanging group of people forming the central part of a larger body.

• an internal mold filling a space to be left hollow in a casting.

• a cylindrical sample of rock, ice, or other material obtained by boring with a hollow drill.

Selected and edited from the Oxford-American software
** **

         I have had you delete definitions not relevant. Enough for tonight. Post. - Amorella

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