Notes

         Up at six-thirty, well before light. Fed the cat, delivered papers, read the paper and had breakfast. Still before light. You awoke earlier thinking about how this story is turning, and a bit too soon, as you see it.

         I don’t see how surveying peoples’ dreams is going to help them connect with the other Dead. Plus, where must these Dead be? Where are the world’s cultural nests, so to speak? And, where are the marsupial Dead? How did Mother make the jump and why can’t she fade back into her privacy chamber like everyone else? These things don’t make sense and I don’t see a connection. Besides this, where is the connection with Chaos Theory?

We have a Tree of Thought and Light that is as a filament in a kind of lantern with an open top and bottom. I like that image in that it is used to describe the human heart also, no known top or bottom. The filament flickers so it is not a steady light. Who this ‘lantern’ is for is unknown. As there is a connection between the marsupial Dead and the human Dead through Mother the chances of a connection between the Living marsupials and Living humans is more apt to be, that is my assumption. First, the Dead have to solve the problem of how to meet with the Dead of other cultures. I don’t think ‘dreaming’ is the answer. I don’t think bridge building is either.

And, whatever way it is connected it has to fit within the analogy of the Tree of Thought and Light. I mean we are only talking Earth here and at most, the other side of the Milky Way galaxy. So, the framework has to be narrowed, first to Earth. The connections as seen through observation would be in the unconsciousness where the dreams originate. Joseph Campbell comes to mind as well as the concepts of Freud and Jung before him. Is the unconscious (in the story of course) connected to Chaos Theory and/or Quantum Theory? If so, how? And, why?

This would tend to show itself first in the art of a culture rather than its science, at least to me. Lots of questions. Lots of problem solving to do consciously. All part of the fun as far as I am concerned. Writing is fun. Keeps me occupied in task formulation. Keeps me out of the bars – can’t be any harm in it as far as I can see.

         A bit rambling but you got out most of what is in there this morning. Post. We’ll get into the next scene which may help clarify some of your concerns. – Amorella. 

         Merriam-Webster’s Word of the Day fits right in. The Word of the Day for March 16 is:

Archetype-  noun: the original pattern or model of which all things of the same type are

representations or copies : prototype; also : a perfect example.

Did you know?

"Archetype" derives via Latin from the Greek adjective "archetypos"

("archetypal"), formed from the verb "archein" ("to begin" or "to rule") and the

noun "typos" ("type"). ("Archein" also gave us the prefix "arch-," meaning

"principal" or "extreme" and used to form such words as "archenemy," "archduke,"

and "archconservative.") "Archetype" has specific uses in the fields of

philosophy and psychology. The ancient Greek philosopher Plato, for example,

believed that all things have ideal forms (aka archetypes) of which real things

are merely shadows or copies. And in the psychology of C. G. Jung, "archetype"

refers to an inherited idea or mode of thought that is present in the

unconscious of the individual. In everyday prose, however, "archetype" is most

commonly used to mean "a perfect example of something."

**

         Nice coincidence.

         After noon and you are about to go to lunch at Longhorn (after the baby is fed). You have not been doing much today but hanging out. This next scene will sort out one of your problems. This one is about the same time as the last and it is Sophia, Kassandra and Salaman, who has calmed down through the reassurances of both women. Some men might be envious of the scene in that he is lying in bed with Sophia on his left and Kassandra on his right. They even cuddle and hold hands. Rather artistic. Look for a statue of three nudes and see if there is one out there. Just for the fun of it. – Amorella.

         That’s funny. I am envisioning a piece of modern art of molded metal. That’s what comes to mind. On a college campus someplace or in a grand city park or museum of modern art. I’ll check it out. I only found one, you can’t see the third, who is also a woman. Reminds me of the three Fates – only legs and torsos, but interesting. The photo is of no use but it is neo-classic not modern. I have seen it before but don’t know its name or who did the sculpting.

         Pop it in here and let’s call it the Fates for the moment. Perhaps a connection with these three in scene ten.

         I don’t see how two women and one man, they don’t sound like the Fates to me. Here it is, although I’ll probably be in trouble for it one way or another.

         We can save it for the next scene, eleven. From ‘Fotosearch’. – Amorella.

         Home from an excellent lunch. Owen and Kim are both resting if not napping. Carol is on her iMac. > Let’s go to scene ten.

Scene 10

Late night, about the same time the boys are at the Mikroikia, three spirited bodies are lying in the same bed, Salaman is in the middle, Sophia on his left and Kassandra on his right. The privacy place is Sophia’s. None has a stitch on and no one seems to care as a blanket and the darkness except for the starlight covers them. They wait, more or less quietly, to fall into a stone cold sleep. Whispers are all that is needed and whispers is all you can hear. Touching and holding hands is not out of the question or even questionable to these three. Each needs solace and personal comforting. Between each piece of dialogue there are usually a few seconds of silence, sometimes longer, depending upon the reader's imagination.

“I was so embarrassed.”

“Me to.”

“So you both faded away right in front of Mother?”

“Mother said, ‘I do not fade in awkward social or private conditions.’”

“I was not sure what she met. If you are in private why would you fade away in the first place?”

“She brought up ‘awkward social conditions’ and I thought she was talking about herself in the present tense, while we were there, so I didn’t know what to do or say so I faded away. I should have just excused myself.”

“It would have been more polite had we both excused ourselves, but we didn’t.”

“What she must think of us. She is counting on us and we acted like novices.”

“I’m sure it isn’t that bad. I still can’t believe she may not be Greek. It never dawned on me that she would be anything else.”

“It was that awkward silence.”

“She is not royalty. She is not a queen.”

“All mothers are queens of their own house. We were her guests and we didn’t leave properly.”

“How does that work? I mean, it is similar to fainting, at least the way I remember fainting, and the next thing you know you are back in the comfort of your own personal chamber.”

“No one knows. It just happens. Not too often, thankfully.”

“What I wonder about is whether Mother set up that uncomfortable situation with intent or if it was accident?”

“Why, with intent?”

“I had the feeling there was more she wanted to say, but at the last minute changed her mind and just decided she wanted us out of there, and that was the quickest least awkward way for her.”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that at all.”

“If Mother isn’t Greek then what is she?”

“If she is the Mother of all humanity, then she must be quite old. Why is she with us and not with the Persians who are an older culture than us?”

“Or from India. I think they are even older.”

“Where are all the other Dead people?”

“I don’t think Mother knows. Mothers always have concerns about their children. It is no wonder she doesn’t sleep.”

“I didn’t know she doesn’t sleep. What does she do all night?”

“Maybe she secretly visits her other children in India or Africa.”

One by one there was a longer pause between question. Most of them too heavy to answer. They held hands longer and snuggled closer. Both women ended up wrapped over the right or left leg of Salaman. Eventually they were so close, so intimate, that all they could do was close into a tight but comfortable group hug. They felt the shared warmth of bodies they did not have. It was a natural human warmth. Soon, each fell into a deep sleep and the three turned into a single piece of stone. No one realized this, of course, as it was a very rare event. If they were propped upright like three human beings solidified into tree trunk they would have appeared a classically sculpted work of art.

***

Notes & a Draft of Scene 9 of Chapter Four

         Up late, still tired from yesterday. Did your exercises and an errand as well as lunch at Potbelly’s in Kenwood. Kim enjoyed the treat as they have no Potbelly’s in Cleveland. Home by dinnertime. Busy family day. Early you were reminded of the date and on Facebook you placed:

In honor of one of my first heroes:

GAIVS IVLIVS CAESAR

13 July 100 BC -- 15 March 44 BC

He went down fighting like the soldier he was.

        And, you have been checking the Caesar ancestry on Wikipedia thinking about what to do for Owen as going back before a few Scottish kings is mostly hearsay.

         I had a good time taking the genealogy back through the Scottish royal line even though it is no doubt fiction. Still, it was cool to wonder upon I have to admit. It did give me inspiration for use in Grandma’s Stories in particular. The concepts are still close to my heart in that there are millions of people out there who are directly related to King David and Bathsheba and on back to Abraham and Sarah. One day perhaps DNA experts will be able to tell people who the famous and/or infamous people they are directly related to. One would hope it would help make people think and consider the human race as a whole rather than in parts. At least I would like to think it would. Plus, it would make everyone’s history more personal and hopefully more interesting.

         Tonight perhaps we can work on this next scene if time permits.

         I agree. Scene Nine, maybe I can get it done.

         Post this to keep you on your toes. – Amorella. 

Scene 9

Late into the night Aeneas sat near the window outside the café. Aranos, the old server stopped by the table, “Relaxing, are you  Aeneas?”

Aeneas, in a shy mood, nodded and responded, “I am, but I am also waiting on Thales and Mario. Mario said we would share a bottle of wine and be on our way.”

“Don’t forget the bread and cheese,” laughed Aranos who was quickly settled at the table of the lonesome newcomer, inquiring on the best wines the stranger knew.

The two showed up shortly and suggested they meet in the back room. The smaller table was set up and they gather around it, sat, and readied a good one all were familiar with. “What is this about?” asked Aeneas. “Why come back here?”

Thales declared, “We want to let you in on a new bit of knowledge.”

“We want your opinion?” added Mario, who continued, “Today I asked Mother about the Egyptian Dead. I was thinking that this bridge we are building might find the Egyptian Dead on the other side.”

“She did not know, Aeneas,” said Thales. “Mother doesn’t know where the other Dead are.”

“Why did you expect her to?” asked Aeneas. “No one talks about it because we are here. Our friends our here as are many of our families. We do not know the Egyptian Dead. At least I don’t know any I would be friends with like Here.”

Thales commented, “Don’t you think it strange that Mother wouldn’t know who her mother was?”

“I thought she was our original Mother?”

“She still had to have a Mother, Aeneas,” quibbled Mario. “If each culture has its own mother, someone has to be the mother of all the mothers.”

Aeneas interrupted, “But we aren’t family? Why is this important?”

“Suppose,” said Mario, “all of the tribes, the Persians, Egyptians, Indians, and even the Celts to the north are all the same.”

“What if they are. I mean. We have similar appearances. And like other creatures we may be the same in a general way, but . . . .”

“We can all bear children from each other,” added Thales.

“The point is this, Aeneas, if we could find the other Dead and tell them of our plan to return to Earth,” noted Mario, “they may have an incentive to join us.”

“No one has found any strangers in Elysium, that is other than newcomers. Once we know who they are and their families everyone fits in well enough,” responded Aeneas.

“That’s another point,” said Mario. “Mother said that before she came to Elysium to wait on her children to follow her, she found herself with others who were Dead who are different than us.”

“You mean by dress and tongue?”

“No, Aeneas. They have no breasts. Neither female or male exhibited nipples.”

“That is impossible,” he replied. “They must have cut them off, like the Amazons cut off one of their breasts for better aim and hunting.”

“No. That is just it,” said Thales. “There are other Dead who are similar to us but not us.”

Mario compounded, “Complete strangers, foreigners. People from unknown parts of Mother Earth.”

“What is the point? It appears to have made little difference. Besides, Mother may be storytelling.”

Mario said, “Let’s assume she is telling the truth. How did she get from one Place of the Dead to our own? She doesn’t know. I did find out she has never faded to her privacy chamber. We always end up in our own house.”

Thales ended the conversation, “Here’s something to sleep on, Aeneas, the gods don’t appear to have anything to do with this phenomenon. Mother has no references to the Pantheon in her house. None.”

“That is indeed strange.”

“We have no idea what may be on the other side of the Styx.”

The three sat quietly drinking their shared favorite while also noting their recent words piled about the table. In life fear of the unknown might have engulfed them, but Dead, and among their own, the only unsettling was the rising rumble of more questions. We know we are Greek is a statement understood by each. We know who are original Mother is. Another statement understood. Each with new questions piling into his mind saw the Styx rising along side.

Finally, with a sigh, Thales said, “We are brothers here. We will not be under-minded. We do have a gift besides our reason. We need to put our dreams to work. The people we have known in Life, some were from foreign lands. All those I have known had reason. We know madness when we see it. This is not madness. We need to search, for now in secret, to find if others who have known strangers as friends or who were once married to foreigners secretly have contact with them in their present dreams."

He continued, "No one talks about these things. We go about our daily business. We attempt to maintain polite company within our culture here. We do not discuss our private dreams except with our closest friends. It is possible that if we did, we would discover something we do not realize about ourselves as a cultural tribe and as individuals. And, with this new knowledge we may find yet another way to make ourselves back to Earth to greet the Living with great joy.”

Notes

         Up at seven, papers, breakfast while reading the Sunday paper, always a treat. Carol is prepping for trip to your sister’s and welcoming party for Owen.         

       Uncle Ernie had lots of questions on the chapters and he said he has never seen anyone with a mind like yours, that you have tremendous insight and wisdom in your words. He told you this in front of others. You fluffed it off but feel very good that he enjoys the books as much as he does.

         I think it is Uncle Ernie who is seeing the wisdom and insight from his own perspective of having lived a long rewarding life, but I appreciate his kind words and his continued sincere enthusiasm for the works. From now on I will use only the male voice as he said Aunt Patsy has trouble hearing the frequency of the woman’s voice. He believes the Dead are connected to the Living from maybe not too far away, and he remembers reading a book on Greek Mythology while at Otterbein. He asked which book it might have been, and I mentioned Bulfinch’s as Hamilton came along in the fifties. Google says Bulfinch’s work was published in 1913, I told him 1905.

         Make two CD copies, one for them and another for Cathy, Kim and yourself. And, you were thinking of remaking them a CD of the first three chapters with only the male voice. Why not? They are two of your most loyal fans.

         They are. I have more intellectual and artistic encouragement from both of them over all these years than any other in the family. I remember them both since I was three, four and five in particular. Aunt Patsy says she was twenty-one when we played games at my Grandparents’ Orndorff at 103 West Walnut Street. They lived about four houses east on Walnut so they were very close. This is when my parents lived at the corner of Knox and Walnut Streets two blocks to the north. That is a long time to have a direct influence on someone’s life. I am honored to remake the CD for them. It should not be too difficult. If I do it this week I can give the three CD's to them this next weekend or shortly thereafter.

         Why not give them all four together in a packet that will hold twelve or twenty-four CD’s?

         That is a good idea, Amorella. I had not thought of that. I don’t think I’m going to get much done tonight.

      Tomorrow then. Post and be done with it. – Amorella. 

Notes & full draft of Scene 8- Chapter Four

         Up at three. Wrote down the notes you just threw together. Place them here:

A jewel misunderstood

Eclipse of passion and hope in entanglement

Holes in both ends of the lantern cause a flicker

Mirror image similar species

Elasticity of hope and a carpet flying (balloon)

Like a New Moon in April –

Showers intent

Hope and enthusiasm – ‘hello there’

A long way off

And without the words (the vocabulary) [post it with nothing on it]

[for translation]

intent is the right track, parallel . . . intuition

Each line Post-It Noted and conclusion at 0317 hrs. 13 March 10

**

         Then a check of comments on Facebook. You are pleased there are a few. About four o’clock, time to return to bed for now. Later, dude.- Amorella.

         Mid-morning. Breakfast eaten, paper read. Dusting needed downstairs as everything else is cleaned for Kim and Owen tomorrow.

         Almost noon. Let’s get to it. > By mid-afternoon, after chores and a nap, you finished the scene. Now we need to deconstruct it and put it in place with Kassandra and Thales and Salaman. Take a break and have some lunch. Lunch and a copy last night’s final of “Numb3rs” one of both of your favorites. Then a wash and wax of the kitchen floor and you have nothing left but that downstairs dusting.

         After supper and a few more errands you have completed scene eight.

         It ended in the middle. Or, it seems to. I couldn’t come up with any more to write.

         The scene has eight hundred words, orndorff, that’s enough.

         But where did the Chaos Theory go to, and all those fractals? I thought we were getting into background on the multiple dimensions and universes the metaphysical analogy brings up.

         The chapter is not over. One step at a time, boy. These people are having trouble adjusting to what they have just come to realize, other Dead exist, that the concept of Elysium is not as set as they thought, particularly Salaman. The Greeks are not the only ones who survive physical death.

         But this is silly, Amorella. Everyone knows that.

         Now, not then.

         What if human-like aliens did make themselves known?

         I don’t think it would be such a big deal. The churches have already declared it is possible others are out there. That is old stuff, Amorella. All this shows is how isolated people were back then. Cultures grown out of mountains, valleys, hunting and agriculture. These Dead are not as far along as I thought they would be. Their inquisitive minds are more isolated than I thought, particularly for being Dead. Surely they are aware of others in the world besides Greeks.

         Elysium is isolated. That is the way it is set up.

         Reminds me of an old boy’s club with women allowed.

         How is the usual modern concept of Heaven any different?

         I don’t know, Amorella. I said I would be polite. People are allowed to believe what they want, I don’t care. I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes here.

         Then let the ancient Greeks be what they want. Be polite to them too. You need to think a little further than you do, orndorff. We have to stay pretty much on the same page. Do you understand what I am saying, boy? – Amorella.

         I do. But this is fiction.

         Don’t you want it authentic sounding and realistic not pie in the sky stuff?

         I do.

         Good. Now, post this and the whole scene eight and we are done with it for a time. Next, scene nine, this time with Mario and Thales who secretly share what they know with Aeneas. Perhaps this scene will be more to your liking.

Scene 8

Evening. The two men stood patiently at Kassandra’s door waiting for her to open it.

“This is like life,” commented Salaman. “What is her problem? Why doesn’t she respond?”

Thales replied, “I agree. This is unlike her. Perhaps she fell into a deep sleep. If so, we will not be able to disturb her.”

“Why don’t we go back to the Mikroikia and see if Mario shows up,” suggested Salaman. “We haven’t seen him all day.”

“Nor Sophia. We must be missing something,” noted Thales. “This is very odd.”

“Maybe Mother called it off.”

The door suddenly opened outwardly. “I’m sorry. Come in. I need to fill you two in.”

“We could have met at the Mikroikia and had a good time waiting.”

Kassandra acted as though she didn’t hear him, and shut the door to private.

She turned, attempted a smile, and said, “I have these two chairs and the bed. Who wants the bed?”

“I’ll take it,” said Salaman. “I just want to lie down.”

Thales winked at Kassandra and sarcastically commented, “This is what we Dead do best, lie down. What is on your mind, Kassandra?”

She adjusted the legs of the chair for her comfort. “Sophia and I were called to Mother’s this afternoon because Mario had gone to speak to her earlier.”

Thales shrugged with his hands suddenly in the air, shot out, “It is over then.” His mind ran through the following thoughts. I knew it. This plan wasn’t going to work. Zeus has put an end to all this. I knew it was Zeus.

“Why weren’t we at least consulted?” asked Salaman indignantly. This was rigged by the women, he thought. They always want to control.

“Mother invited us into her private chamber. It is really a chapel.”

“No one has ever been to her privacy chamber.”

Thales added, “I didn’t know she needed one.” Then he asked, “To what gods? Who are her favorites?”

Kassandra then whispered as if it were the darkest secret in all of Elysium, “She worships no gods or goddesses, no one in the Pantheon and none foreign either.”

Salaman, still in anger asked, “What did Mario stir up? He is the start of today’s event.”

“Start with Mario,” concurred Thales. “I agree. He is the instigator. It was arrogant to confront Mother directly without confiding in us beforehand. What is this all about, Kassandra?”

She hesitated from the social awkwardness-of-an-earlier-moment, “Mother, uh.”

“Mother what?” asked Salaman abruptly. “You called for us to be here.”

“Just tell us,” said Thales calmly. “Otherwise, I can only imagine the worst.”

Kassandra resigned with a shrug of her shoulders, much as she did in her last moment of life, “Mario asked Mother where the Egyptian Dead are?” She paused, “I think Mother intuitively knew someone was going to ask her a question she could not honestly answer.

“We all have questions that can’t be answered, why should that bother her?”

She retorted, “Because everyone looks to Mother to give a decent answer, Salaman.”

He responded, “I think most people assume the Egyptians are not worthy to be in Elysium. Why would their heroes want to come here anyway? Isn’t that right, Thales?”

“It would seem so. Though where do their heroes go?”

“Not to a good place,” rattled Salaman offensively.

“I think it is none of our business,” voiced Kassandra with calm, “but Mother told us something that no one but Sophia, Mario and myself know.”

“What is that?”

“Thales, she said that before she came Here, to Elysium, she went someplace else, where there were other Dead. They invited her to stay but she wanted to make her nest here, so to speak, so she left. And, she . . . .”

Salaman stood immediately confronted the concept with, “Impossible. There is no other place for us Greeks.”

Kassandra chastised, “You don’t even know if Mother is Greek, Salaman.”

“You don’t make sense, woman.” He drooled on effusively, “What else would she be, Persian?”

Thales retorted, “No one asks questions such as this. We are all family, that is what is important here, and Mother is well, our Mother. She was here first. We followed her here through our own birth mothers I would imagine. It is reasonable to think this.”

Hands in the air and wide-eyed, Salaman barbed, “You are the reasonable one Thales? 

Thales the Dreamer is the reasonable one, Kassandra, what do you think of that?”

She replied, “Calm down, Salaman. What is wrong with you? Why are you ranting?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You claim our Mother isn’t Greek, and Thales here thinks the Persians or Egyptians or whoever else should have a Place for their Dead Heroes. Their heroes have been our enemies.”

“Fellow Greeks have been our enemies. Now, Salaman, if you would gather your thoughts,” admonished Thales.

***

Notes

        Awake at three, up and downstairs at four. You awoke still listening to late night classical on WGUC in Cincinnati, the Los Angeles Guitar Quartet playing Bach. You thought it was wonderful and was played with so much gusto that it woke you up more.

         It was a delight. I had never heard Bach played on guitars before. Anyway, I’m up sitting in my favorite living room chair with a nightlight plugged into my MacBook to see the keys. Daughter has a new MacBook Pro, a fancier one, and the keys are lit which I think is most cool for a sometimes night cat like me. I love the quiet setting this time of night, it gives the room an ambience of presence, my own, I suppose, but I like to think there is more in the world that meets the eye and sometimes it sets right here in your own living room no matter who or where in the world you are living. Fantasy, I suppose, but I like it anyway.

         Mid-morning. Handyman Connection was here to give an estimate for the squirrel damage. They will return next week.

         I am ready to write on the scene but I went to it only to draw a blank as to direction. I keep focusing on the fractal but don’t know how to introduce it here.

         First look up the definition in your Merriam-Webster and post here.

“Main Entry: fractal; Function: noun.
Date: 1975: any of various extremely irregular curves or shapes for which any suitably chosen part is similar in shape to a given larger or smaller part when magnified or reduced to the same size . . . fractal adjective.”

            Now, check in out in Wikipedia:

         I have four pages of material, single spaced. I will have to read over it carefully and try to absorb in and hope I can use it in context with the scene in some way. It is interesting stuff, and more of what I expected, although the dictionary definition is not what I expected it may prove useful too, as a sort of introduction into the deeper explanation, which to me, still has to fit within the context of the early Milesians philosophers. This is my thinking on the subject.

         Follow through on your reading and I will underline what will be important to consider. One of the main points is that the ‘tree’ has to be deterministic rather than non-deterministic for this particular purpose. This is because, in your mind, an Order of some sort had to precede Chaos. Some of this is your subconscious, if you will, traditional Presbyterian upbringing, a belief in predestination.

         What we are going to do here is to show how it is possible to have a form of predestination and free will at the same time. This is something you have long considered philosophically impossible. It has to be one or the other, that’s what you used to emphasis in your classes, particularly with MacBeth, Hamlet, and Paradise Lost.

         This can’t be done to my satisfaction, Amorella. It is impossible to have a sense of ‘destiny’ or predestination and free will. You cannot have both, at least not by my way of thinking.

         Post this and we will continue after a break for lunch.- Amorella.

         I will, but it is impossible in my mindset, Amorella. It is either destiny or free will. Necessity cannot change this. You cannot make a square a circle no matter who or what you are. It is not reasonable. And, while I can accept contradictions in terms of logic this, to me, is more than a contradiction. You cannot have such a thing in something as fundamental as First Cause, even if this is just a fiction. I don’t want a fantasy with faeries and sweetness and all that faery tale rot. No offence to any reader here, but my books are not about these things, even though I do love the romance of them, especially the old legendary faery tales.  

         You found some elements that will be useful after condensing  four pages to three.

         I have driven the notes up to five pages as I added much of Wikipedia’s information on Chaos Theory. I read the book but that was some time ago.

         I checked my old logic notes, but they are daughter’s and not my originals. This is what she has:

Chaos Theory

            Characteristics: [Fate-like]

            1. Our behavior is attributed to beliefs, knowledge and expectations [culture]

            2. notes from Chaos by James Gleick

            3. [probability shows randomness is not necessarily random in computer models]

And, this is followed by a review thinking logically:

Review Steps in Logical Process: [Logic For Undergraduates]

            1. appeal to authority (appeal to ask questions of authority)

            2. reason (do I want t do this?) [why]

            3. perceptions (what you think, visual, senses)

            4. intuition (subconscious, gut feeling)

The last section is examining basic logical fallacies:   [Logic For Undergraduates]

            1. overgeneralization; jumping to conclusions from one or two cases (nuke safety)

            2. thin-entering wedge; overgeneralization involving prediction (Hindenburg)

            3. name calling; forsaking issue to attack personal character (Jane Fonda)

            4. you’re another; if both wrong then the less wrong is therefore more right

            5. cause & effect; A appears to cause B (Thales, Anaximander, Anaximenes)

            6. false analogy; false comparisons;

                        appeal to past: (1960 was a better time to be young than in than 1997)

                        appeal to future: (things will be better after high school graduation)

            7. wise people can be wrong; clenching an argument w/ appeal to authority

            8. statistics prove; 4/5 dentists . . . survey until desired results

            9. appeal to the crowd; [cheerleading]; Ex. Hitler rallies

            10. arguing in circles; using conclusion to prove itself (true if on TV-on TV true)

            11. self-evident truth; ‘everyone is doing it’ therefore it is okay

            12. black or white; forcing any issue w/shades of gray to yes or no (abortion)

            13. guilt by association; running around with the wrong crowd

         Further research online I found two essays of interest. One is titled: “Postmodern Theater: A Manifestation of Chaos Theory” by Raymond Saner, CSEND Geneva, from the Pari Center for New Learning: Library, and the other “Chaos Theory” from Marxist.com,science-old, chaos theory. This work attempts to affirm didactic materialism as fact rather than theory as far as I can see, but it might provide a springboard for further thinking in terms of society and chaos theory. I will need time to read them over.

         You find all this interesting but this is dialogue and a novel going together here not social philosophy. These works are not about economic or political systems orndorff. The focus here is a First Cause anchor that is set by unknown forces you call angelic-like but I would rather think of them as “Preconceived Unknowable Forces”.

         Behind the scene Mother has described her original adventure to another Place of the Dead that held another species similar to human who also survived physical death, i.e. the marsupials in the first three books.

         I thought she was going to give a rational for other belief systems on Earth.

         First, in a separate document, I will write down the dialogue that took place between Mother, Sophia and Kassandra so you can see where she is coming from.

         Shouldn’t this be in the book directly?

         Why, when it can be put in scene eight and still drive the story forward?

         Here I have been carried away from the task again. I get it in my mind that I need to know and understand more about fractals and Chaos Theory. I don’t remember all this material and I don’t want the reader to think I am be negligent of scientific background.

         Again, enough for tonight. When you want to read the dialogue among the three women, set up a new document and we will go to it. Post this and then relax. It has been a busy day house-cleaning for daughter and grandson's arrival Sunday.– Amorella.