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.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
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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