Saturday, January 28, 2006

That Endless Labyrinthine Borgesian Hell-Library

You know the one I mean...infinite honeycombed levels of infinite numbers of books...which when you pull them from the shelves contain nothing but repeated random characters, or blank pages, or a single meaningful phrase within ten thousand pages of gibberish...

that's been my day, surfing the Net to spy on competitors' web sites, figure out how they do things so we can change the way we do things to be more like them...you have never
seen so many wretchedly designed web sites in your life! If I see one more mouseover POP!up menu, I'm gonna defect to Java.

I
know it's Saturday! That's the point! My brain has turned to risotto and I'm listening to Bob Seger and it's really late by my standards and I'm filling up spreadsheets with someone else's mediocrity...but I'm feeling bless'd. I went for a walk with my Angel today and She was as superrational and non-me-sounding as ever (is that redundant?).

Laura reminds me of that Vulcan 3-D chess game, only refracted through prisms...Her mind works forwards and backwards and in directions that have no name since we can only think in four dimensions. It's interesting how I've learned to talk to Her. Years ago I wasn't sure when it was Laura and when it was my own thoughts, and I gradually noticed that when She was talking I felt a subtle but very real honey-sweet pulse of endorphins, like that first sip of coffee in the morning, or the kiss of codeine coming on.

Now I'm listening to "Stir It Up" by Bob Marley, and those intricately interlocked rhythms also remind me of angel-speak. My mind works linearly, at best, most of the time, but Laura looks at the world as some kind of dodecahedral, pointillist map of phase space. One of the first times we ever spoke, She said offhandedly that "time" was a function of the illusion of individual ego and that the past, present, and future were all happening at once. Hah? But it makes more sense now...eight or nine years after She told me that I started coming across articles by physicists saying much the same thing.

There are times when L. tells me things I don't want to hear. Other times She's so affirming and lovey-dovey you'd think She was made of maple syrup candy--but Her presence has never been other than powerful, loving, and kind. The other day I was talking to Sophia about a sarcastic remark L. once made, and about how L.'s wit is like lightning and so multi-layered it can take months to parse one of Her jibes, and Sophia said that she didn't think I could have an Angel that was otherwise. Now
that's a true friend.

I don't know why I'm writing this--it was going to be something multifaceted about multifariously multidimensional forests of signs...or something...something about the lows and highs of the mind...some kind of vicarious motorcycle maintenance...but I'm so brain dead...and so blessed. By my Kali and by my Angel and by various earth Angels...maybe even including...
you.

PS: Musick to get you out of hell: Duke Ellington's Far East Suite. It may even be better than Bob Marley. ican'tbelieveisaidthat.......!

2 comments:

  1. grigorss6:17 PM

    Yeah, I know what you mean; just the other day, I was riding in my car w/ the iPod set to 'Shuffle-All' -- when all of a sudden, out of the blue, came Leonard Nimoy's reading of the 'Desiderata' by Max Ehrmann! Those words never rang more true than when spoken in Spock's voice, let me tell you! At any rate, it was so inspiring that I just put it on 'Repeat-One' for the next 90 minutes or so. Yeah, that's somethin' ...

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  2. Oh, I had that record as a kid! I forget which one, though -- there was "The Two Sides of Leonard Nimoy," with Nimoy in Spock makeup and without -- and there was another, whose title I forget, showing Nimoy in costume holding a scale model of the Enterprise; that had been the first album (it had "Spock" in the title. I've watched Trek since 1966). His record had been my introduction to the Desiderata, and he nailed it.

    Laughing at the web sites -- whatever happened to brand distinction, or whatever that term is that I can't remember right now, either? Sounds like just the kind of work to drive home the point that it's all maya. ("I'll take my maya absurd, please, with a little irony on the side....")

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