I was trying to make up my mind between a toast or another brownie at breakfast when I notice this lump of ideas on the floor of my mind. It was Elf doing, of course. I never spread ideas on the floor of my mind. Always try to keep them in order and filed.
When I approached the mess, I could see his little head sprouting from the middle of the heap.
- What are you doing? I asked bewildered as I always am when faced to my Elf's deeds.
- Once upon a time... he said venomously.
- What!? I was not too original in the question but it took me by surprise.
- Where do these words come from?: "Once upon a time"
- Does it never happens once upon NOW? Why is it?
- Do you know? he blurted all these sentences together as if they were just one.
My Elf was in one of his tantrums against... nothing!
I tried to ignore his taunting, but as always I couldn't, putting his mindnose against mine he asked again, remarking his words:
- Do YOU know!?
- No, I don't, I said and kept looking for a good idea about the toast or the brownie (sorry about the pun) even knowing it won't deter this mini-devil to pursue once he started a skirmish.
- Well then, he said putting his mindarms akimbo, what do you think of it? Where do you think it originated?
Oh, goodness I thought, originated... but trying to keep a low profile I answered:
- Don't know!
- Don't know, don't know, he aped me as usual. Can't you show a little less idiocy and give an educated answer? What do you have all this brain for? eh?! eh!?
I gave up, it is impossible to ignore a thorn in your eye!
- Look, I said, these words were used in tales for children, as in nursery rhymes and fairy tales from Mother Goose's!
- Bah, Mother Goose was a Gander! (sic)
- Not a Gander, maybe his hubby was a gander! I tried to jump over the pun but...
- Who you mean?!! (he forgets grammar when in anger), I never heard of Father Gander!
I had to reckon he was right, neither I has ever heard of Father Gander!
- Ok, ok, I granted, just let's forget all about this. Yes?
- Forget? forget?, it is people like you that forgetting everything are guilty of the major evils in the world!
I was stunned, major evils?
- But what are you talking about?, himmeldonnerwetter! - when I start to get angry my German cassette pushes out some of those neverending words - major evils?! we were talking about Mother Goose here, not major evils!
- You were talking about Mother Goose, I am not. I am concerned with all that things that happened once upon a time and not now!
- Gosh! I said, where is my mindhammer!!
The elf put his best scornful face and giving me the cold shoulder lost himself into the archive.
I knew he was fleeing and scared enough about my mindhammer, he does not know what it is (neither I do) anyway it sound impressive enough to make him run away, but he always makes his departures look like if he has defeated me! Himmeldonnerwetter, again!!
© 2007 Soother.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Monday, May 29, 2006
Ghost day (Ranting)
Today is Ghost Day...
I said it unwittingly loud in my mind.
-Whose ghost?, asked the Elf.
I growled noiselesly, there we go again!
-Eh... nobody's and anybody's, I had to answer or die.
-But then, the little rascal would not let it alone, but then,
how is it "a" ghost?
-A ghost, is a ghost, is a ghost!!! I hammered trying to close the argument, to no avail.
-How do you become a ghost? asked my elf.
I knew he knew but as always I am mincemeat in his mindhands.
-I am no ghost, I said sternly, trying to deviate his line of thought... Maybe it is easier to stop the moon from circling the Earth.
He giggle as a teenager, sometimes I think he is underage!
-Not you, silly, a person.
-Well... first «that person» must die, I tried desperately to find a reason to end the discussion, well, first «that person» must die and then there must be an administrative goof somewhere in the next life, «that person» cannot go to heaven and «that person» cannot go to hell, so «that person» becomes a... Ghost! That's it!
As always, it was a mistake:
Next life! What you mean "next life"! It is preposterous!
He must have found that word somewhere in my archive and was trying to make his point about my being a nerd.
- Why you think it is SILLY? I asked trying to make him go down on syllables. You see, we change sides easily enough.
-Such a PREPOSTEROUS idea!, he retaliated, when have you been in the next life?.
-Never, I recognized, but then again I am not dead yet!
-There ain't a next life, he said. What happens is that you change tracks.
Tracks?... changing tracks?? dreading his meaning I choose the easy way of correction:
-Is not, I pointed, trying to hurt his grammar ego and start a new discussion.
I should know my elf!
-That's what I said, repeated the elf, there ain't!
-You see, he went on, a person must die to become a ghost, and so it must go to the "next death", not the next life!
-But, I tried to keep in touch with reality, how can you be alive in the next death?, I mean... Ah!!, next death?!!!
-Nobody is alive in the next death!, the elf retorted triumphantly.
-But, but a ghost... I said somewhat incoherently.
-A ghost is a dead person, ain't it so?
I let that go.
-Yes, dead person, I said, forgetting the old wives' tales about animal-ghosts and things-ghosts.
-Well, there you are!
I swallowed a Valium and a Prozac, drank a glass of water and refused to listen anything else...
Just before I was lost in the dense haze of unconsciousness a thought emerged from my subconscious: Wouldn't all this be a big joke, a huge pun, concocted by Elf?!
© 2007 Soother.
I said it unwittingly loud in my mind.
-Whose ghost?, asked the Elf.
I growled noiselesly, there we go again!
-Eh... nobody's and anybody's, I had to answer or die.
-But then, the little rascal would not let it alone, but then,
how is it "a" ghost?
-A ghost, is a ghost, is a ghost!!! I hammered trying to close the argument, to no avail.
-How do you become a ghost? asked my elf.
I knew he knew but as always I am mincemeat in his mindhands.
-I am no ghost, I said sternly, trying to deviate his line of thought... Maybe it is easier to stop the moon from circling the Earth.
He giggle as a teenager, sometimes I think he is underage!
-Not you, silly, a person.
-Well... first «that person» must die, I tried desperately to find a reason to end the discussion, well, first «that person» must die and then there must be an administrative goof somewhere in the next life, «that person» cannot go to heaven and «that person» cannot go to hell, so «that person» becomes a... Ghost! That's it!
As always, it was a mistake:
Next life! What you mean "next life"! It is preposterous!
He must have found that word somewhere in my archive and was trying to make his point about my being a nerd.
- Why you think it is SILLY? I asked trying to make him go down on syllables. You see, we change sides easily enough.
-Such a PREPOSTEROUS idea!, he retaliated, when have you been in the next life?.
-Never, I recognized, but then again I am not dead yet!
-There ain't a next life, he said. What happens is that you change tracks.
Tracks?... changing tracks?? dreading his meaning I choose the easy way of correction:
-Is not, I pointed, trying to hurt his grammar ego and start a new discussion.
I should know my elf!
-That's what I said, repeated the elf, there ain't!
-You see, he went on, a person must die to become a ghost, and so it must go to the "next death", not the next life!
-But, I tried to keep in touch with reality, how can you be alive in the next death?, I mean... Ah!!, next death?!!!
-Nobody is alive in the next death!, the elf retorted triumphantly.
-But, but a ghost... I said somewhat incoherently.
-A ghost is a dead person, ain't it so?
I let that go.
-Yes, dead person, I said, forgetting the old wives' tales about animal-ghosts and things-ghosts.
-Well, there you are!
I swallowed a Valium and a Prozac, drank a glass of water and refused to listen anything else...
Just before I was lost in the dense haze of unconsciousness a thought emerged from my subconscious: Wouldn't all this be a big joke, a huge pun, concocted by Elf?!
© 2007 Soother.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Am I a nerd?! (Ranting)
-You are a nerd!
The Elf was busy editing some of my old thoughts into smarter ideas when he turned around and spat these word to my astonished self.
-What?, I replied without originality.
-You heard me!, he continue without mercy.
I felt the usual desire to squeeze his little neck, but controlled myself and asked him:
-Why you think I am a nerd?
He let drop a small shred of a thought and replied:
-No, I do not think you are a nerd, you are one without my thinking!
-Ok, why? I tried to stop a new line of discussion which would have lost ourselves in a different argument.
- You see, he came again, you like old fashioned music, reading... reading!, of all the dull, boring things on the world, and writing things nobody cares about any more as that mumbo jumbo about love and romanticism! Where on earth can you find a romantic person nowadays? And you are out of character trying to impersonate one.
-Are you trying to insult me?, I asked a bit unnecessary.
-Oh! no, I am not trying to insult you, said the curmudgeon, I am insulting you out of smugness.
-Smugne..., now the desire to throat him was unbearable, the effort to keep mi mindfingers in my mindpockets left me mindless for a moment, then recovering I said between tight closed teeth:
- Will you elaborate, please?
- You see, he countered, what's that of "will you elaborate?", he moved his head from left to right producing an acceptable imitation of my mindvoice, can't you be a normal person and say something in the line of "How is that?"... and all that Opera thing... Whoever listen those bellowing fat ladies saying things nobody understands?
- Now look, I said in a very low voice, I was very near the edge to loose myself into a maze of gruesome acts concerning the head and body of this kinky small creature.
-Now, look, there are words in the world and they are there to be used, it is our business to know them and to make our vocabulary a better thing than the mere two hundred voices, and one thousand insulting epithets we usually employ... and there are no fat ladies bellowing anywhere, you small piece of a smaller than life shirt!!!
I was already shouting and my mindhands were mindfists, so after the last word I realized I was almost over the edge of using words I respect but prefer not to keep company with, so I closed my mindeyes and started singing "one elephant went out to play, upon a spider's web one day..." to calm myself, when I was on the seventh elephant I realized it was not working, so I changed gears and started with "Frère Jacques, frère Jacques, dormez vous? dormez vouz?" The effort to think French words made anger subside, inhaling deeply I finished in a more civilized voice:
-There are beautiful women like Dames Kiri te Kanawa and Joan Sutherland who delight us with their performance and wonderful voices making the words of the lyrics become an indistinct fluttering of butterflies in a "coloratura", you hear me?! I ended, ruining the
image I created with these three pedestrian last words.
He raised his head and looking the tip of his nose replied:
Oh, well! you are a lost case, and with that he returned to nitpicking my thoughts!
Just to make my point I asked myself to start in my CD player "Spira sul mare.." the sweet song where Cio-Cio-San, Madama Butterfly, sings her happiness to be engaged to Pinkerton and where a beautiful Renata Scotto shows the wonderful skill of her voice.
And everything was well again, swinging with the loving voice of "... la fanciulla più lieta del Giappone... venutta al richiamo d'amore" (the happiest girl in Japan... who came to the call of love) I returned to my usually placid mind.
© 2007 Soother.
The Elf was busy editing some of my old thoughts into smarter ideas when he turned around and spat these word to my astonished self.
-What?, I replied without originality.
-You heard me!, he continue without mercy.
I felt the usual desire to squeeze his little neck, but controlled myself and asked him:
-Why you think I am a nerd?
He let drop a small shred of a thought and replied:
-No, I do not think you are a nerd, you are one without my thinking!
-Ok, why? I tried to stop a new line of discussion which would have lost ourselves in a different argument.
- You see, he came again, you like old fashioned music, reading... reading!, of all the dull, boring things on the world, and writing things nobody cares about any more as that mumbo jumbo about love and romanticism! Where on earth can you find a romantic person nowadays? And you are out of character trying to impersonate one.
-Are you trying to insult me?, I asked a bit unnecessary.
-Oh! no, I am not trying to insult you, said the curmudgeon, I am insulting you out of smugness.
-Smugne..., now the desire to throat him was unbearable, the effort to keep mi mindfingers in my mindpockets left me mindless for a moment, then recovering I said between tight closed teeth:
- Will you elaborate, please?
- You see, he countered, what's that of "will you elaborate?", he moved his head from left to right producing an acceptable imitation of my mindvoice, can't you be a normal person and say something in the line of "How is that?"... and all that Opera thing... Whoever listen those bellowing fat ladies saying things nobody understands?
- Now look, I said in a very low voice, I was very near the edge to loose myself into a maze of gruesome acts concerning the head and body of this kinky small creature.
-Now, look, there are words in the world and they are there to be used, it is our business to know them and to make our vocabulary a better thing than the mere two hundred voices, and one thousand insulting epithets we usually employ... and there are no fat ladies bellowing anywhere, you small piece of a smaller than life shirt!!!
I was already shouting and my mindhands were mindfists, so after the last word I realized I was almost over the edge of using words I respect but prefer not to keep company with, so I closed my mindeyes and started singing "one elephant went out to play, upon a spider's web one day..." to calm myself, when I was on the seventh elephant I realized it was not working, so I changed gears and started with "Frère Jacques, frère Jacques, dormez vous? dormez vouz?" The effort to think French words made anger subside, inhaling deeply I finished in a more civilized voice:
-There are beautiful women like Dames Kiri te Kanawa and Joan Sutherland who delight us with their performance and wonderful voices making the words of the lyrics become an indistinct fluttering of butterflies in a "coloratura", you hear me?! I ended, ruining the
image I created with these three pedestrian last words.
He raised his head and looking the tip of his nose replied:
Oh, well! you are a lost case, and with that he returned to nitpicking my thoughts!
Just to make my point I asked myself to start in my CD player "Spira sul mare.." the sweet song where Cio-Cio-San, Madama Butterfly, sings her happiness to be engaged to Pinkerton and where a beautiful Renata Scotto shows the wonderful skill of her voice.
And everything was well again, swinging with the loving voice of "... la fanciulla più lieta del Giappone... venutta al richiamo d'amore" (the happiest girl in Japan... who came to the call of love) I returned to my usually placid mind.
© 2007 Soother.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
The desire of the everlasting hills (Soliloquies)
When would the desire of the everlasting hills be accomplished?!
Days go away as the hackneyed saying goes: sand between the fingers.
I am not complaining, it is fast, the passing of time I mean, but not fast enough for a light soul with immense wings. Things happen but they are not changing anything. Remember the old rule, change anything that let everything stay unchanged?
It is amazing how after eons human beings still keep their old practices of exploitation (such a blasting word!), indifference and hate towards their own species, what is worse, it seems as if there is no signal of change.
Even if all persons on the world (count me in, of course), I am being generous here but lets give us the benefit of the doubt, all persons on the world would agree that we are gentle, forgiving and with the heart full of good feeling to our neighbors, evil runs rampant on every place and nook on this miserable planet.
In an optimistic mood one can believe that tares, or better yet darnel, and wheat grow together but reality shows us that the scent of darnel fills all the corners of Earth.
I think we must endure and wait, but it is not easy. Mermaids' songs are stronger as time goes by, society follows paths far away from those mounds and glens we learned to call our own, and when the landscape changes so radically we start to ask: Are we right?, is it worth this solitude and this pain? But of course, when we come to remember we are a small boat in the grieving, dusky ocean of reality, the answer comes easily to mind: "this is how it is, there is no way around, we must accept solitude as our natural environment, no matter how noisy it is, it is all beside ourselves, never into us". We are in here but we do not belong here, not as a solid part of the party we live daily, only as a necessary accessory. So we can enjoy what there is to enjoy and endure whatever there is to endure.
Yeah, right! But it is still a hard bit to bite!
What if...?
Oh! come on!!
© 2007 Soother.
Days go away as the hackneyed saying goes: sand between the fingers.
I am not complaining, it is fast, the passing of time I mean, but not fast enough for a light soul with immense wings. Things happen but they are not changing anything. Remember the old rule, change anything that let everything stay unchanged?
It is amazing how after eons human beings still keep their old practices of exploitation (such a blasting word!), indifference and hate towards their own species, what is worse, it seems as if there is no signal of change.
Even if all persons on the world (count me in, of course), I am being generous here but lets give us the benefit of the doubt, all persons on the world would agree that we are gentle, forgiving and with the heart full of good feeling to our neighbors, evil runs rampant on every place and nook on this miserable planet.
In an optimistic mood one can believe that tares, or better yet darnel, and wheat grow together but reality shows us that the scent of darnel fills all the corners of Earth.
I think we must endure and wait, but it is not easy. Mermaids' songs are stronger as time goes by, society follows paths far away from those mounds and glens we learned to call our own, and when the landscape changes so radically we start to ask: Are we right?, is it worth this solitude and this pain? But of course, when we come to remember we are a small boat in the grieving, dusky ocean of reality, the answer comes easily to mind: "this is how it is, there is no way around, we must accept solitude as our natural environment, no matter how noisy it is, it is all beside ourselves, never into us". We are in here but we do not belong here, not as a solid part of the party we live daily, only as a necessary accessory. So we can enjoy what there is to enjoy and endure whatever there is to endure.
Yeah, right! But it is still a hard bit to bite!
What if...?
Oh! come on!!
© 2007 Soother.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
What!? Out!? (Ranting)
...the silence in my mind woke me up.
Am I still asleep?, I asked myself, then I saw daylight by the windows and heard the usual sounds going on in the house, but...
... in my mind, SILENCE, a terrifying stillness, not a single note of "Vesti la Giubba" or "E lucevan le Stelle" in the shivery voice of the Elf; after so long with him living in there I was so much used to all the ruckus produced by this unrestrainable imp that the unexpected quiet upset me deeply!
I started to run around my mind, looking under some notions scattered on the floor, looked about the archives and the files with crescent alarm, even disturbed some ideas, arranged alphabetically and with a small tag reading: "tbust" (to be used "somewhen" tomorrow, this is the Elf doing, his concept of order and time, go figure!), and there was no sign of the Elf!
With all the strength of my silent mindvoice I cried: EEEEEEEELF! I was frantic!! and in despair.
The noise I was doing almost makes me lose the small sound reaching up from far away: cooomiiing!
What's that? coming? how come? coming from where?, my mind is surrounded by solid walls, as any other mind! He could not be coming, he should be into! I was reasonably sure he was not inside my mind.
It is a very cluttered mind (Elf doing, not mine), I had wandered from wall to wall several times looking for the wretched goblin and could not find him. Then again, how he came in the first time? I assumed he was born here! I was totally confused!
Then from far away the little voice, this time a bit stronger: coomMIING! and lo! from a obscure recess of the far wall there appears the familiar small shape of my Nemesis.
-You! I stuttered, you, little, short piece of a small, wretched son of a pistol!
Sometimes I can be very creative in my abuse.
-Where have you been hiding, how can you hide into my mind?! I run the whole darn thing up and down and you move so fast I couldn't find you!
-Steady, dud! he said, you'll work yourself into a heart condition!
-I want to make a sailor knot with your skinny neck!
-Hey man, he countered, what makes you think you own me?! I can do whatever I want and it is no business of no one...! (He sounded angry, and when angry he forgets his grammar, if he has ever learned one!)
I had to recognize he was right, my anger came from the belief that he has gone forever. Can you believe it? I like the miserable little fellow!
-Ok, ok, I said letting down steam, but where were you hiding?
-I wasn't...
-How come?
-Now, I shouldn't be saying this to you but the one who cannot leave his mind is you (still angry). I can go out into another mind to visit my cousins living there. Or go out to the Universe at large and visit some other... well, let's say, people.
-You kidding!
-No, I am not!!!
Angrily he took the biggest idea he found at hand and wrapped it around his little figure leaving me alone and totally confused.
He said, he was out! Out! Is it possible...?
© 2007 Soother.
Am I still asleep?, I asked myself, then I saw daylight by the windows and heard the usual sounds going on in the house, but...
... in my mind, SILENCE, a terrifying stillness, not a single note of "Vesti la Giubba" or "E lucevan le Stelle" in the shivery voice of the Elf; after so long with him living in there I was so much used to all the ruckus produced by this unrestrainable imp that the unexpected quiet upset me deeply!
I started to run around my mind, looking under some notions scattered on the floor, looked about the archives and the files with crescent alarm, even disturbed some ideas, arranged alphabetically and with a small tag reading: "tbust" (to be used "somewhen" tomorrow, this is the Elf doing, his concept of order and time, go figure!), and there was no sign of the Elf!
With all the strength of my silent mindvoice I cried: EEEEEEEELF! I was frantic!! and in despair.
The noise I was doing almost makes me lose the small sound reaching up from far away: cooomiiing!
What's that? coming? how come? coming from where?, my mind is surrounded by solid walls, as any other mind! He could not be coming, he should be into! I was reasonably sure he was not inside my mind.
It is a very cluttered mind (Elf doing, not mine), I had wandered from wall to wall several times looking for the wretched goblin and could not find him. Then again, how he came in the first time? I assumed he was born here! I was totally confused!
Then from far away the little voice, this time a bit stronger: coomMIING! and lo! from a obscure recess of the far wall there appears the familiar small shape of my Nemesis.
-You! I stuttered, you, little, short piece of a small, wretched son of a pistol!
Sometimes I can be very creative in my abuse.
-Where have you been hiding, how can you hide into my mind?! I run the whole darn thing up and down and you move so fast I couldn't find you!
-Steady, dud! he said, you'll work yourself into a heart condition!
-I want to make a sailor knot with your skinny neck!
-Hey man, he countered, what makes you think you own me?! I can do whatever I want and it is no business of no one...! (He sounded angry, and when angry he forgets his grammar, if he has ever learned one!)
I had to recognize he was right, my anger came from the belief that he has gone forever. Can you believe it? I like the miserable little fellow!
-Ok, ok, I said letting down steam, but where were you hiding?
-I wasn't...
-How come?
-Now, I shouldn't be saying this to you but the one who cannot leave his mind is you (still angry). I can go out into another mind to visit my cousins living there. Or go out to the Universe at large and visit some other... well, let's say, people.
-You kidding!
-No, I am not!!!
Angrily he took the biggest idea he found at hand and wrapped it around his little figure leaving me alone and totally confused.
He said, he was out! Out! Is it possible...?
© 2007 Soother.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
The accidental electron (Ranting)
The Elf sat comfortably between two of my best thoughts. Since I discovered him living in my mind, he always uses the best sites to place himself.
- Ok, Elf said, go ahead and tell me about the accidental electron.
I almost pointed to this gaffe saying:
- So you do not know about it, but knowing he would find an answer for his blunder just ordered my thoughts, avoided his mass, picked up the thought at his left and started:
- In the beginning...
- You sound biblical, prompted the goblin.
- Stop interrupting me! I yelled at his presence.
He just spread his hands soothing my axons.
- Well, I went on, in the beginning Earth was a primeval soup, magma and lava boiling in a unique mass of fire. Awesome storms bellowed from the foggy sky accompanied by furious lighting and growling thunder.
In this hellish place under an indescribable atmospheric pressure a few atomic particles found a way to get together creating a plasma, drifting in the soup, handled by incredible strong forces interacting with it.
It was just a detached piece from the soup but nothing more, the only difference was structural, a mindless form in a mindless medium.
And then...
- What!, what!, cried the irrepressible imp.
Then, a thunderbolt pierced the charged atmosphere of the planet disrupting the tenuous tissue of gases forming the space between molten rock and heavy sky, it discharged an immense quantum of energy just over the small plasma which was squashed by an accidental electron expelled by the blast that immediately disarranged and rearranged the atomic relationship of the plasma and surrounded it with a new and qualified environment not known until this very moment. In this new havoc and as direct effect of the incredible amount of energy discharged plus the chaotic characteristics of Earth at the moment, this chance electron was capable of creating a frightful and wonderful new being.
Now there was a mindless medium but alone, floating in the atrocious surface of the planet, there was LIFE ready to climb up the stairs of evolution.
The Elf was dazed.
It was the first time I saw him speechless, he couldn't find a word to show he knew what I was telling him or worse yet, invent some flourish commentary to make me feel he knows everything.
- But, but, he stammered. After a terrible effort he could just blurt the first thing coming into his mind, if he has one.
-But, but where was God?
- God? I query...
- I do not know, I added nonplused, maybe He was throwing down the thunderbolts!
© 2007 Soother.
- Ok, Elf said, go ahead and tell me about the accidental electron.
I almost pointed to this gaffe saying:
- So you do not know about it, but knowing he would find an answer for his blunder just ordered my thoughts, avoided his mass, picked up the thought at his left and started:
- In the beginning...
- You sound biblical, prompted the goblin.
- Stop interrupting me! I yelled at his presence.
He just spread his hands soothing my axons.
- Well, I went on, in the beginning Earth was a primeval soup, magma and lava boiling in a unique mass of fire. Awesome storms bellowed from the foggy sky accompanied by furious lighting and growling thunder.
In this hellish place under an indescribable atmospheric pressure a few atomic particles found a way to get together creating a plasma, drifting in the soup, handled by incredible strong forces interacting with it.
It was just a detached piece from the soup but nothing more, the only difference was structural, a mindless form in a mindless medium.
And then...
- What!, what!, cried the irrepressible imp.
Then, a thunderbolt pierced the charged atmosphere of the planet disrupting the tenuous tissue of gases forming the space between molten rock and heavy sky, it discharged an immense quantum of energy just over the small plasma which was squashed by an accidental electron expelled by the blast that immediately disarranged and rearranged the atomic relationship of the plasma and surrounded it with a new and qualified environment not known until this very moment. In this new havoc and as direct effect of the incredible amount of energy discharged plus the chaotic characteristics of Earth at the moment, this chance electron was capable of creating a frightful and wonderful new being.
Now there was a mindless medium but alone, floating in the atrocious surface of the planet, there was LIFE ready to climb up the stairs of evolution.
The Elf was dazed.
It was the first time I saw him speechless, he couldn't find a word to show he knew what I was telling him or worse yet, invent some flourish commentary to make me feel he knows everything.
- But, but, he stammered. After a terrible effort he could just blurt the first thing coming into his mind, if he has one.
-But, but where was God?
- God? I query...
- I do not know, I added nonplused, maybe He was throwing down the thunderbolts!
© 2007 Soother.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
My Elf and I (or would it be better: Him and me?) (Ranting)
I said aloud:
- There is this theory about the "chance electron", or more scientifically said "accidental electron".
The elf who live in my mind looked flabbergasted, which is a very uncommon occurrence since he always seems to know everything. Trying to gain some foothold before I were overruled by the little imp and his theories I pressed on:
- Have you heard about it?
Even if it was evident he has not heard about it, he recomposed rapidly and interposed:
- It is nothing, really!
I felt chagrined, would this creature never recognize not knowing everything?
- Oh Ok, I taunted him, then it is not worth to discuss it. No answer.
- It was interesting anyhow, I proceed. Silence.
Darn his socks! I thought this aside and very low, "punning" my pun!. Sometimes it is difficult to speak to myself without his meddling. I did not want him to hear me.
- Are you there? I gave up at last. Why the silence?
- Just meditating, he said.
Meditating, meditating! Where, by the wood of the main door to hell, does he find these long breathed words! What have he against thinking? Not the same? Ok, but I bet he doesn't know the difference, either!
- What about? as always he was getting on my nerves!
- The accidental electron theory. This dropped nonchalantly!
- Tell me about it, I said and thought: Gotcha!
- No, he retorted, you better spin the yarn so I can make corrections when needed.
There you are, I will never win! He knows me better. Sometimes I think he knows my thoughts before I think them!
- Ok, I said, lets see, it all begin with...
- Wait, he interrupted, and settled down between two of my ideas, sinking in the spot as if it were a soft armchair, close here and start anew.
So I am doing...
© 2007 Soother.
- There is this theory about the "chance electron", or more scientifically said "accidental electron".
The elf who live in my mind looked flabbergasted, which is a very uncommon occurrence since he always seems to know everything. Trying to gain some foothold before I were overruled by the little imp and his theories I pressed on:
- Have you heard about it?
Even if it was evident he has not heard about it, he recomposed rapidly and interposed:
- It is nothing, really!
I felt chagrined, would this creature never recognize not knowing everything?
- Oh Ok, I taunted him, then it is not worth to discuss it. No answer.
- It was interesting anyhow, I proceed. Silence.
Darn his socks! I thought this aside and very low, "punning" my pun!. Sometimes it is difficult to speak to myself without his meddling. I did not want him to hear me.
- Are you there? I gave up at last. Why the silence?
- Just meditating, he said.
Meditating, meditating! Where, by the wood of the main door to hell, does he find these long breathed words! What have he against thinking? Not the same? Ok, but I bet he doesn't know the difference, either!
- What about? as always he was getting on my nerves!
- The accidental electron theory. This dropped nonchalantly!
- Tell me about it, I said and thought: Gotcha!
- No, he retorted, you better spin the yarn so I can make corrections when needed.
There you are, I will never win! He knows me better. Sometimes I think he knows my thoughts before I think them!
- Ok, I said, lets see, it all begin with...
- Wait, he interrupted, and settled down between two of my ideas, sinking in the spot as if it were a soft armchair, close here and start anew.
So I am doing...
© 2007 Soother.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Do you open your eyes? (Soliloquies)
Silly question!! Of course I open my eyes!
Not that silly, blind people open their eyes, too.
It does not warrant you see. It only prove you can exercise your eyelids muscles.
Reality is less real than it tries to make us believe, and it is only because we are trying to understand the system we live in with our brains, which are part of the very system.
Something like if we would try to lift our body taking it from our ankles. You must be outside the system to have a chance to change it somehow.
How about having a mind outside the brain? outside the system. Yes, it could be useful but there is a catch. This mind must use the brain as instrument to its designs and then, in we go into the system again!
Beautiful! so we cannot "understand" our reality. Maybe, to make it clear and following the best way of Univac and in its metallic voice we hear the question: "Define «understand»"
Under stand: To be upright on one's feet on something which is below, a base.
To have a support for knowing.
There is no way we can have a support for knowing reality.
We can only "know" reality from the information we receive from our five senses into our brain, and you know they, the senses, are unreliable and it, the brain, is judge and part.
How near is near?, how warm is love? How silly am I? What color is your time?
All this seems so inconsistent, I can touch things and people, I can feel feelings, that "must" be reality!, then again, I can have dreams which are so "real" I can vow they really happened.
Conclusion: We can experience reality, we cannot understand it.
Science says it can "understand", can it? or does it only "interpret" it?
Words, again we are in the need of definitions. The never-ending game of life!
© 2007 Soother.
Not that silly, blind people open their eyes, too.
It does not warrant you see. It only prove you can exercise your eyelids muscles.
Reality is less real than it tries to make us believe, and it is only because we are trying to understand the system we live in with our brains, which are part of the very system.
Something like if we would try to lift our body taking it from our ankles. You must be outside the system to have a chance to change it somehow.
How about having a mind outside the brain? outside the system. Yes, it could be useful but there is a catch. This mind must use the brain as instrument to its designs and then, in we go into the system again!
Beautiful! so we cannot "understand" our reality. Maybe, to make it clear and following the best way of Univac and in its metallic voice we hear the question: "Define «understand»"
Under stand: To be upright on one's feet on something which is below, a base.
To have a support for knowing.
There is no way we can have a support for knowing reality.
We can only "know" reality from the information we receive from our five senses into our brain, and you know they, the senses, are unreliable and it, the brain, is judge and part.
How near is near?, how warm is love? How silly am I? What color is your time?
All this seems so inconsistent, I can touch things and people, I can feel feelings, that "must" be reality!, then again, I can have dreams which are so "real" I can vow they really happened.
Conclusion: We can experience reality, we cannot understand it.
Science says it can "understand", can it? or does it only "interpret" it?
Words, again we are in the need of definitions. The never-ending game of life!
© 2007 Soother.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Explaining the unexplainable (Soliloquies)
Can you hear the inner voice?
It is always asking...
Those questions, that inquisitive probing. The old "W" queries.
Reality is a foggy sea where our selves sail, each one of us in a different boat.
Some are full of lights and contraptions to send signals, other with just a positioning light and a small flag.
We drift along.
Sometimes we are so near one another we think we can communicate and start to send frantic signals from our decks.
From the other boat seems as if there was an understanding and it sends signals back.
After a while we feel we are communicated, but are we?
Up to a point, maybe, enough to drift along, to feel we are not utterly alone, it is possible to exchange tokens, but we cannot, ever, to board the other boat, to feel the "other" reality.
Questions stand alive, scorching us as a burning iron:
Why am I estranged this way?
What is the reason of this severe exclusion?
How can I feel other people feelings, share their tenets, know what "red" means, really means, in their minds, and why I cannot do it!
Cool!
Like it or not we must treasure second best, that poor imitations of true sharing: friendship, partnership, love, or worst yet "third best" hugs, kisses and that being so near but never near enough! poor sad, frantic signals sent from our loneliness.
Is this all that there is? Is madness the ruler of this happenstance?
If you tell me that you believe this, I must take it as true, but is it? How I, or even you for that matter, know it is true. Have you dived into the deep inners of your consciousness? Have you probed all possibilities?, or this belief is only the product of disappointment, an expression of rage against the unassailable fortress of the unknown. Do you think the unknown exists? Can I say I do not know the unknown and still look into my own feelings?
Seems so sad but no, it is not so...
Cheer up, in this reality there is no eternity, nothing is forever and that is good!
© 2007 Soother.
It is always asking...
Those questions, that inquisitive probing. The old "W" queries.
Reality is a foggy sea where our selves sail, each one of us in a different boat.
Some are full of lights and contraptions to send signals, other with just a positioning light and a small flag.
We drift along.
Sometimes we are so near one another we think we can communicate and start to send frantic signals from our decks.
From the other boat seems as if there was an understanding and it sends signals back.
After a while we feel we are communicated, but are we?
Up to a point, maybe, enough to drift along, to feel we are not utterly alone, it is possible to exchange tokens, but we cannot, ever, to board the other boat, to feel the "other" reality.
Questions stand alive, scorching us as a burning iron:
Why am I estranged this way?
What is the reason of this severe exclusion?
How can I feel other people feelings, share their tenets, know what "red" means, really means, in their minds, and why I cannot do it!
Cool!
Like it or not we must treasure second best, that poor imitations of true sharing: friendship, partnership, love, or worst yet "third best" hugs, kisses and that being so near but never near enough! poor sad, frantic signals sent from our loneliness.
Is this all that there is? Is madness the ruler of this happenstance?
If you tell me that you believe this, I must take it as true, but is it? How I, or even you for that matter, know it is true. Have you dived into the deep inners of your consciousness? Have you probed all possibilities?, or this belief is only the product of disappointment, an expression of rage against the unassailable fortress of the unknown. Do you think the unknown exists? Can I say I do not know the unknown and still look into my own feelings?
Seems so sad but no, it is not so...
Cheer up, in this reality there is no eternity, nothing is forever and that is good!
© 2007 Soother.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
At sea, far away (Soliloquies)
This was home for some timeFree space, great view of the sea, fish, salty smells, and waves.
Ninety five miles from mainland and solitude make the day to day chores important.
A babel of Portuguese, Indonesian, Chinese, Thai, some German, a tbsp of Spanish, several flavors of English... and Pidgin, of course, when you could not find any other tool for communication.
Sometimes, father Poseidon wanted to know what were those weird biped doing on the platform, so it raised tall waves, asked Eolo to roar with high gales, and Zeus to send rain as a heavy curtain and thunderbolts to see better. Awesome and scary, those who were not working on the deck ran downstairs to the cozy and covered entrails of the platform.
When the full moon started to rise on a calm sea everybody was on the deck, it was (is) a sacred view. Casta diva in her pure splendor.
I wondered many times, we were coarse, hard men toiling in a difficult and dangerous task but the mystic of a full moon mesmerized us as if we were a bunch of poets with a sensible soul, but then again, maybe we were and we had it.
© 2007 Soother.
Love, that misconception (Soliloquies)
It is here, the silence, this blessed vacuum the world have forgotten. The expectation of what is to come...
The first score of "E lucevan le stelle" starts, without breaking the silence!
Oh! miracle of the sounds blended with stillness in a corporate spirit under the pale light of the stars. Recollection begins:
Even the creaking of the gate of the orchard when Floria arrives is a compound of anticipation.
Love is a misconception, selfless giving is nearer to love than to please or to be pleased. Floria's scent is a heady feeling, her languid rest in Mario's arms, the sweet kisses and the slow caresses, the feverish movements of Mario's hands divesting her of her veils make us think of LOVE, but it is only love.
Exhilarating, intoxicating love, the pleasure of contact, of possessing, of being possessed, to please, to be pleased, but not to give with no reward. Valid, yes! Needed, of course! Species require this!
But...
What is left if we accept this irrational notion?, this idea, crazy idea, of giving without waiting a reward! where is Romance?, the bitter-sweet pathos that gives life in that starred night, the last night of Mario's life, to the melancholic feeling of loss and belonging?
So love becomes Love, something in between, neither the whole LOVE, nor the unconscious "sarko", the half animal compulsion that keep us alive. Romanticism is saved, life is worth to be lived!
But time "fugit", time is an uncompromising vector born and lost in Eternity. It does not understand anything except flowing and Mario cannot stop the need of expressing his disappointment in losing life when he loved it most...
© 2007 Soother.
The first score of "E lucevan le stelle" starts, without breaking the silence!
Oh! miracle of the sounds blended with stillness in a corporate spirit under the pale light of the stars. Recollection begins:
Even the creaking of the gate of the orchard when Floria arrives is a compound of anticipation.
Love is a misconception, selfless giving is nearer to love than to please or to be pleased. Floria's scent is a heady feeling, her languid rest in Mario's arms, the sweet kisses and the slow caresses, the feverish movements of Mario's hands divesting her of her veils make us think of LOVE, but it is only love.
Exhilarating, intoxicating love, the pleasure of contact, of possessing, of being possessed, to please, to be pleased, but not to give with no reward. Valid, yes! Needed, of course! Species require this!
But...
What is left if we accept this irrational notion?, this idea, crazy idea, of giving without waiting a reward! where is Romance?, the bitter-sweet pathos that gives life in that starred night, the last night of Mario's life, to the melancholic feeling of loss and belonging?
So love becomes Love, something in between, neither the whole LOVE, nor the unconscious "sarko", the half animal compulsion that keep us alive. Romanticism is saved, life is worth to be lived!
But time "fugit", time is an uncompromising vector born and lost in Eternity. It does not understand anything except flowing and Mario cannot stop the need of expressing his disappointment in losing life when he loved it most...
© 2007 Soother.
Read to dismiss dismal hours (Soliloquies)
The best way to be lost in reality is to keep a book open.
Today is a melancholic, slow paced day. I can see through the window patches of the garden already soaked, even if only a fine drizzle is coming down from a forbidden sky.
This drizzle has been painting the landscape with its wet small brushes for hours now. The sun, hiding its magnificent corolla from humankind behind the thick cover of low clouds, is a wraith in "firedom".
I feel alone but not lonely, seeking to disperse the foreboding this misty rain brings into my soul I went digging into my library and lo! in one of the small shelves, to the left, in the Fantasy classification tab I found:
Fredric Brown's From these Ashes
Back, back in time, out of the drizzle, out of the melancholic mood, out of this world, into reality of fiction, into illusion and mirth...
© 2007 Soother.
Today is a melancholic, slow paced day. I can see through the window patches of the garden already soaked, even if only a fine drizzle is coming down from a forbidden sky.
This drizzle has been painting the landscape with its wet small brushes for hours now. The sun, hiding its magnificent corolla from humankind behind the thick cover of low clouds, is a wraith in "firedom".
I feel alone but not lonely, seeking to disperse the foreboding this misty rain brings into my soul I went digging into my library and lo! in one of the small shelves, to the left, in the Fantasy classification tab I found:
Fredric Brown's From these Ashes
Back, back in time, out of the drizzle, out of the melancholic mood, out of this world, into reality of fiction, into illusion and mirth...
© 2007 Soother.
Literature, foundation of the Soul (Beliefs)
Literature, the distinguished goddess, with her golden wings called imagination and reality transports the faithful into the weightless world of fantasy or factual deeds, tapering the boundary between illusion and actuality.
© 2007 Soother.
© 2007 Soother.
Opera, the gate to heaven (Beliefs)
Opera, where Euterpes excels and takes the soul to pristine ecstasy in giving a totally different meaning to the last line of Tosca:
[O Scarpia] Avanti a Dio!
Yes! to let music spread its charms into our heart is a way to be in the presence of God.
© 2007 Soother.
[O Scarpia] Avanti a Dio!
Yes! to let music spread its charms into our heart is a way to be in the presence of God.
© 2007 Soother.
Books, the muezzins (Beliefs)
Books, the muezzins of Muses, call the worship hours of drama, comedy and fiction for the literate faithful to commune with an elemental deity that transcends the illusion of reality.
© 2007 Soother.
© 2007 Soother.
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