Evocative

An apt evocation: http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/poetry/2007/10/22/071022po_poem_gluck

---

Marriage

by Louise Glück October 22, 2007

All week they’ve been by the sea again

and the sound of the sea colors everything.

Blue sky fills the window.

But the only sound is the sound of the waves pounding the shore—

angry. Angry at something. Whatever it is

must be why he’s turned away. Angry, though he’d never hit her,

never say a word, probably.

So it’s up to her to get the answer some other way,

from the sea, maybe, or the gray clouds suddenly

rising above it. The smell of the sea is in the sheets,

the smell of sun and wind, the hotel smell, fresh and sweet

because they’re changed every day.

He never uses words. Words, for him, are for making arrangements,

for doing business. Never for anger, never for tenderness.

She strokes his back. She puts her face up against it,

even though it’s like putting your face against a wall.

And the silence between them is ancient: it says

these are the boundaries.

He isn’t sleeping, not even pretending to sleep.

His breathing’s not regular: he breathes in with reluctance;

he doesn’t want to commit himself to being alive.

And he breathes out fast, like a king banishing a servant.

Beneath the silence, the sound of the sea,

the sea’s violence spreading everywhere, not finished, not finished,

his breath driving the waves—

But she knows who she is and she knows what she wants.

As long as that’s true, something so natural can’t hurt her.

Let my doubts be cleared

What is this wonder-filled universe?
What constitutes seed?
Who centers the universal wheel?
What is this life beyond form pervading forms?
How may we enter it fully,
Above space and time, names and descriptions?
Let my doubts be cleared.

- Vigyan Bhairava (~4000 years ago)

The Roaming of Sages

As to the roaming of sages,
They move in utter emptiness,
Let their minds meander in the great nothingness;
They run beyond convention
And go through where there is no gateway.
They listen to the soundless
And look at the formless,
They are not constrained by society
And not bound to its customs.

- Lao-tze

The Dust of Human Ambition

To shake off the
Dust of human ambition
I sit on moss in
Zen robes of stillness,
While through the window,
In the setting sun
Of late autumn,
Falling leaves whirl
And drop to the stone dais.

- Tesshu Tokusai (?–1366)

the essential art of zazen

Whenever a thought occurs,
Be aware of it,
As soon as you are aware of it,
It will vanish.
If you remain for a long period
Forgetful of objects,
You will naturally become unified.
This is the essential art of zazen.

- Dogen (1200-1253)

Any season is a good season for you

In spring, hundreds of flowers;
In autumn, a harvest moon;
In summer a refreshing breeze;
In winter, snow will accompany you.
If useless things do not hang in your mind,
Any season is a good season for you.

- Mu-mon 1228

Following dream paths at night

Which way
Did you come from,
Following dream paths at night,
While snow is still deep
In this mountain recess?

- Ryokan (1758-1831)

Goethe - Epigrams on possession, happiness, religion, love, literature, nature and knowledge

• We cannot possess what we do not understand.
• Each has his own happiness in his hands, as the artist handles the rude clay he seeks to reshape it into a figure; yet it is the same with this art as with all others: only the capacity for it is innate; the art itself must be learned and painstakingly practiced.
• Since I have heard often enough that everyone in the end has his own religion, nothing seemed more natural to me than to fashion my own.
• Love's torments sought a place of rest,
  Where all might drear and lonely be;
  They found ere long my desert breast,
  And nestled in its vacancy.
• The decline of literature indicates the decline of a nation.
• Nature knows no pause in progress and development, and attaches her curse on all inaction.
• We know accurately only when we know little, with knowledge doubt enters.

Earth's Answer - by William Blake

Earth raised up her head
From the darkness dread and drear,
Her light fled,
Stony, dread,
And her locks covered with grey despair.

"Prisoned on watery shore,
Starry jealousy does keep my den
Cold and hoar;
Weeping o're,
I hear the father of the ancient men.

"Selfish father of men!
Cruel, jealous, selfish fear!
Can delight,
Chained in night,
The virgins of youth and morning bear?


"Does spring hide its joy,
When buds and blossoms grow?
Does the sower
Sow by night,
Or the plowman in darkness plough?

"Break this heavy chain,
That does freeze my bones around!
Selfish, vain,
Eternal bane,
That free love with bondage bound."

Bad Dreams Are Good by Joni Mitchell

Bad Dreams Are Good

by Joni Mitchell

September 17, 2007

The cats are in the flower beds

A red hawk rides the sky

I guess I should be happy

Just to be alive

But

We have poisoned everything

And oblivious to it all

The cell-phone zombies babble

Through the shopping malls

While condors fall from Indian skies

Whales beach and die in sand

Bad Dreams are good

In the Great Plan

And you cannot be trusted

Do you even know you are lying?

It's dangerous to kid yourself

You go deaf, dumb, and blind

You take with such entitlement

You give bad attitude

You have No grace

No empathy

No gratitude

You have no sense of consequence

Oh, my head is in my hands

Bad Dreams are good

In the Great Plan

Before that altering apple

We were one with everything

No sense of self and other

No self-consciousness

But now we have to grapple

With this man-made world backfiring

Keeping one eye on our brother's deadly selfishness

Everyone's a victim here

Nobody's hands are clean

There's so very little left of wild Eden Earth

So near the jaws of our machines

We live in these electric scabs

These lesions once were lakes

We don't know how to shoulder blame

Or learn from past mistakes

So who will come to save the day?

Mighty Mouse. . . ? Superman. . . ?

Bad Dreams are good

In the Great Plan

In the dark

A shining ray

I heard a three-year-old boy say

Bad Dreams are good

In the Great Plan

====================

http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/poetry/2007/09/17/070917po_poem_mitchell?printable=true

Joni channeling JJ Rousseau and the Hippy 60's - well, sort of - but still applicable to today.

Goethe - Epitaph and translations

One version:
-------------

Epitaph

In boyhood stubborn, withdrawn,
In youth presumptuous, suspicious,
When mature, an active man,
In old age reckless, capricious. –
On your gravestones they'll make out:
This one was human, never doubt!



Another version:
-----------------

Epitaph

As a boy, reserved and naughty;
As a youth, a coxcomb and haughty;
As a man, for action inclined;
As a greybeard, fickle in mind. –
Upon they grave will people read:
This was a very man, indeed!




About the only thing which is the same is the last three lines of punctuation!
I think I am really going to have to get the original German poems and read them with a series of translations to hand. Commentators remark on the difficulty (some say "impossibility") of translating Goethe – I certainly have a good feeling for it now (after reading three different translations of various poems).

Goethe - Epigrams on Defects, Strengths, Ignorance, Suffering and Satisfaction

• By nature we have no defect that could not become a strength, no strength that could not become a defect.
• Nothing is worse than active ignorance.
• Man . . . knows only when he is satisfied and when he suffers, and only his sufferings and his satisfactions instruct him concerning himself, teach him what to seek and what to avoid. For the rest, man is a confused creature; he knows not whence he comes or whither he goes, he knows little of the world, and above all, he knows little of himself.

Goethe - Epigrams on The World, Life and Doing

• The world is for thousands a freak show; the images flicker past and vanish; the impressions remain flat and unconnected in the soul. Thus they are easily led by the opinions of others, are content to let their impressions be shuffled and rearranged and evaluated differently.
• The passing day is prey to error. Time commands success and achievement.
• Our desires presage the capacities within us; they are harbingers of what we shall be able to accomplish. What we can do and want to do is projected in our imagination, quite outside ourselves, and into the future. We are attracted to what is already ours in secret. Thus passionate anticipation transforms what is indeed possible into dreamt-for reality.

Goethe - Every Day (epigram)

One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.

Goethe - Prometheus

Prometheus

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
translated by Erich Harth

---

Cover your heavens
with clouds and vapors, Zeus
and, like the boy who lops off
heads of thistles,
try your hand on oaks
and mountaintops.

But you can't touch my earth,
my cabin that you did not build,
my hearth whose glow you watch
with envy.

There's none more pitiful than you, Gods!
The breath of our prayers
is your paltry nourishment,
our meager altar gifts sustain
your dreams of majesty.
You'd starve
but for the foolish hopes
of children and beggars.

When I was a child and didn't know
which way to turn,
I raised my eyes bewildered to the sky
as though beyond it were an ear
to listen to my sorrows,
a heart like mine
to pity my distress.

Who stood with me against the Titans'
wantonness,
who rescued me from death,
from slavery?
Was it not you, my own, my glowing heart
that did all this?
And, cheated, in your youthful goodness
gave glowing thanks to him
who nods up there?

And I should worship thee? What for?
Have you ever
lightened my pain when I was anguished?
Ever
stilled the tears
when I was frightened?
Was it not almighty time
and eternal fate,
my masters as well as yours,
who forged me into manhood?

Did you, by chance, suppose
that I should hate life,
flee into deserts,
just because
not all my fancy dreams
had come to pass?

I sit here, shaping men and women
in my image,
a race destined, like I,
to suffer and to cry,
to savor joy, to laugh,
and disregard you
as I did.

Goethe - Human Limits (excerpt)

A little ring
Confines our lives,
And many generations
For ever they link
On to their being's
Infinite chain.

-- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - "Human Limits" (excerpt, last stanza), p 35 from "Roman Elegies and other poems and epigrams", trans. Michael Hamburger, Anvil, 1996

Dissolve their history according to conditions

You have obstacles only because you have not realized the emptiness of the eons. Genuine Wayfarers are never like this; they just dissolve their history according to conditions, dressing according to circumstances, acting when they need to act, and sitting when they need to sit, without any idea of seeking the fruits of buddhahood.

- Lin Chi (d 867?)

The Secret of the Universe

This may sound a little strange, but it is not quite so paradoxical as the case of Jacob Boehme, to whom Jove's thunderbolt revealed the secret of the universe while he was looking at a pewter bowl.

[Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Letters from Italy, p 49, Penguin 60s Classics] [written on 8 October 1786]

Our times are worse than we think

The art of mosaic, which gave the Ancients their paved floors and the Christians the vaulted Heaven of their churches, has now been degraded to snuffboxes and bracelets. Our times are worse than we think.

[Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Letters from Italy, p 48, Penguin 60s Classics] [written on 8 October 1786]

(Always "our times" are the most degraded and the worst. It wasn't true then Wolfgang (witness your true self) and it isn't true now).

Seeing the World

My tendency to look at the world through the eyes of the painter whose pictures I have seen last has given me an odd idea. Since our eyes are educated from childhood on by the objects we see around us, a Venetian painter is bound to see the world as a brighter and gayer place than most people see it. We northerners who spend our lives in a drab and, because of the dirt and the dust, an uglier country where even reflected light is subdued, and who have, most of us, to live in cramped rooms - we cannot instinctively develop an eye which looks like such delight at the world.

[Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Letters from Italy, p 47, Penguin 60s Classics] [written on 8 October 1786]

Exactly! Thus, people like living where I live rather than places in the northern hemisphere because of the same brilliance and radiance of light and environment. Makes a difference to the approach to life.

(Also good to know that there is no thought that I can think that has not already been thought hundreds of years before by someone smarter and more eloquent!)

Monkey Pureness

The monkey is reaching
For the moon in the water.
Until death overtakes him
He'll never give up.
If he'd let go the branch and
Disappear in the deep pool,
The whole world would shine
With dazzling pureness.
- Hakuin (1685-1768)

True Buddha Dharma Way

Someone asked,
What do you mean by the true Buddha, the true Dharma and the true Way? Would you be good enough to explain to us?
The Master said,
The Buddha- this is the cleanness and purity of the mind.
The Dharma- this is the shining brightness of the mind.
The Way- this is the pure light that is never obstructed anywhere. The three are in fact one. All are empty names and have no true reality.
- Lin-chi (d.867)

MorOn-Star

Funny how all the features of our lives that are for our safety/security/protection and offered by some level of the government draw stiff resistance. However, market them as a convenience and suddenly people line up for it.

Imagine: We're putting a GPS chip in all your vehicles so that we have a record of everywhere you go with it. If there's a crash or carjacking, we can track it down.

Customers scream "Big Brother" and summarily reject it.

Reality: "MorON-Star. How can I help?"
"I locked my keys in the car! I can't get in!"
"What's your passcode?"
"I don't remember, but hurry up because the top's down and it's starting to rain!"

a thousand meters of melancholy

I shall go to the store of the tailor of lovers, tomorrow;
Wearing my long robe made from a thousand meters of melancholy.
He can cut you off from Yazid and sew you onto Zayd;
he can pair you with this one and separate you from the other.
He can attach you to one to whom you give your heart for life;
What a fabric, what a stitch, what a miracle-making hand.

(Divan 216:1-3)

Why by Philip Schultz (August 27, 2007)

Why

by Philip Schultz

August 27, 2007

is this man sitting here weeping

in this swanky restaurant

on his sixty-first birthday, because

his fear grows stronger each year,

because he's still the boy running

all out to first base, believing

getting there means everything,

because of the spiders climbing

the sycamore outside his house

this morning, the elegance of

a civilization free of delusion,

because of the boyish faces

of the five dead soldiers on TV,

the stoic curiosity in their eyes,

their belief in the righteousness

of sacrifice, because innocence

is the darkest place in the universe,

because of the Iraqis on their hands

and knees looking for a bloody button,

a bitten fingernail, evidence of

their stolen significance, because

of the primitive architecture

of his dreams, the brutal egoism

of his ignorance, because he believes

in deliverance, the purity of sorrow,

the sanctity of truth, because of

the original human faces of his wife

and two boys smiling at him across

this glittering table, because of

their passion for commemoration,

their certainty that goodness continues,

because of the spiders clinging to

the elegance of each moment, because

getting there still means everything?

Careful

Careful! Even moonlit dewdrops,
If you're lured to watch,
Are a wall before the truth.
- Sogyo (18th century)

How (Elizabeth Sutherland)

How

 

Out in the field, where the noone resides

Gaping like a fish, for one and the same

Squealing like a hyena, surrounded.

One and the different.

 

There's pain in this muscle.

Pain pain.

In a place been reached too oft.

Turn off?

It can't it won't.

It won't.

It can't.

 

There are bugs under my skin?

Only scars. Her mistake.

 

The deceit, the impenetrable wall;

Maybe not so much? 

This mile of anguish, out in the meadow

Where the lambs run free and brisk,

There is no free.

There is only brisk

And hast

And rush rush mad.

With no air, shark shark, fish.

 

The bugs never disappear – an age or two they stay,

But how long is an age?

How wide is a field?

How wet is a fish?

How gleeful is a hyena?

How minute is a bug?

How free is a lamb?

 

The Ship of Death - D. H. Lawrence

The Ship of Death

	I
	Now it is autumn and the falling fruit
	and the long journey towards oblivion.
	The apples falling like great drops of dew
	to bruise themselves an exit from themselves.
5	And it is time to go, to bid farewell
	to one's own self, and find an exit
	from the fallen self.
	II
	Have you built your ship of death, O have you?
	O build your ship of death, for you will need it.
10	The grim frost is at hand, when the apples will fall
	thick, almost thundrous, on the hardened earth.
	And death is on the air like a smell of ashes!
	Ah! can't you smell it?
	And in the bruised body, the frightened soul
15	finds itself shrinking, wincing from the cold
	that blows upon it through the orifices.
	III
	And can a man his own quietus make
	with a bare bodkin?
	With daggers, bodkins, bullets, man can make
20	a bruise or break of exit for his life;
	but is that a quietus, O tell me, is it quietus?
	Surely not so! for how could murder, even self-murder
	ever a quietus make?
	IV
	O let us talk of quiet that we know,
25	that we can know, the deep and lovely quiet
	of a strong heart at peace!
	How can we this, our own quietus, make?
	V
	Build then the ship of death, for you must take
	the longest journey, to oblivion.
30	And die the death, the long and painful death
	that lies between the old self and the new.
	Already our bodies are fallen, bruised, badly bruised,
	already our souls are oozing through the exit
	of the cruel bruise.
35	Already the dark and endless ocean of the end
	is washing in through the breaches of our wounds,
	already the flood is upon us.
	Oh build your ship of death, your little ark
	and furnish it with food, with little cakes, and wine
40	for the dark flight down oblivion.
	VI
	Piecemeal the body dies, and the timid soul
	has her footing washed away, as the dark flood rises.
	We are dying, we are dying, we are all of us dying
	and nothing will stay the death-flood rising within us
45	and soon it will rise on the world, on the outside world.
	We are dying, we are dying, piecemeal our bodies are dying
	and our strength leaves us,
	and our soul cowers naked in the dark rain over the flood,
	cowering in the last branches of the tree of our life.
	VII
50	We are dying, we are dying, so all we can do
	is now to be willing to die, and to build the ship
	of death to carry the soul on the longest journey.
	A little ship, with oars and food
	and little dishes, and all accoutrements
55	fitting and ready for the departing soul.
	Now launch the small ship, now as the body dies
	and life departs, launch out, the fragile soul
	in the fragile ship of courage, the ark of faith
	with its store of food and little cooking pans
60	and change of clothes,
	upon the flood's black waste
	upon the waters of the end
	upon the sea of death, where still we sail
	darkly, for we cannot steer, and have no port.
65	There is no port, there is nowhere to go
	only the deepening black darkening still
	blacker upon the soundless, ungurgling flood
	darkness at one with darkness, up and down
	and sideways utterly dark, so there is no direction any more
70	and the little ship is there; yet she is gone.
	She is not seen, for there is nothing to see her by.
	She is gone! gone! and yet
	somewhere she is there.
	Nowhere!
	VIII
75	And everything is gone, the body is gone
	completely under, gone, entirely gone.
	The upper darkness is heavy as the lower,
	between them the little ship
	is gone
80	she is gone.
	It is the end, it is oblivion.
	IX
	And yet out of eternity a thread
	separates itself on the blackness,
	a horizontal thread
85	that fumes a little with pallor upon the dark.
	Is it illusion? or does the pallor fume
	A little higher?
	Ah wait, wait, for there's the dawn,
	the cruel dawn of coming back to life
90	out of oblivion.
	Wait, wait, the little ship
	drifting, beneath the deathly ashy grey
	of a flood-dawn.
	Wait, wait! even so, a flush of yellow
95	and strangely, O chilled wan soul, a flush of rose.
	A flush of rose, and the whole thing starts again.
	X
	The flood subsides, and the body, like a worn sea-shell
	emerges strange and lovely.
	And the little ship wings home, faltering and lapsing
100	on the pink flood,
	and the frail soul steps out, into the house again
	filling the heart with peace.
	Swings the heart renewed with peace
	even of oblivion.
105	Oh build your ship of death, oh build it!
	for you will need it.
	For the voyage of oblivion awaits you.

Wherever and whenever

Wherever and whenever
The mind is found
Attached to anything,
Make haste to detach
Yourself from it.
When you tarry for
Any length of time
It will turn again into
Your old home town.

-- Daito Kokushi (1282-1334)

I watch William Blake, who spotted angels

Blake

by Adam Zagajewski

August 13, 2007

I watch William Blake, who spotted angels

every day in treetops

and met God on the staircase

of his little house and found light in grimy alleys—

Blake, who died

singing gleefully

in a London thronged

with streetwalkers, admirals, and miracles,

William Blake, engraver, who labored

and lived in poverty but not despair,

who received burning signs

from the sea and from the starry sky,

who never lost hope, since hope

was always born anew like breath,

I see those who walked like him on graying streets,

headed toward the dawn's rosy orchid.

(Translated, from the Polish, by Clare Cavanagh.)

---

Not Worried About The Future

Scott Adams having some fun methinks! http://dilbertblog.typepad.com/the_dilbert_blog/2007/08/not-worried-abo.html

---

The Way of Heaven

The Way of heaven is silent,
It has no appearance, no pattern.
It is so vast that its
Limit cannot be reached;
It is so deep that it
Cannot be fathomed.
It is always evolving
Along with people,
But knowledge cannot grasp it.
It turns like a wheel,
Beginninglessly and endlessly,
Effective as a spirit.
Open and empty,
It goes along with the flow,
Always coming afterward
And never in the forefront

-- Lao- tzu

There must exist a book which is the formula and perfect compendium of all the rest

"There must exist a book which is the formula and perfect compendium of all the rest." - Jorge Luis Borges

Sharing Happiness

"Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared."

-- Buddha

HARRASSED BY REAL UNSEEN EVIL ENITY

HARRASSED BY REAL UNSEEN EVIL ENITY:

You know, the diversity of crud on the internet is never ending and always amazing!
I laughed and laughed when I read this entry (in an otherwise serious site where people were trying to get answers to things they wanted to find out about - the original was at: http://askearth.com/go/view_request?request=130317).
I am still not sure whether this guy was totally for real or a faker - but if he was the latter (faking it for the "laffs", he did a spectacularly good job). Anyway, I laughed and laughed until I turned into an evil enity (sic)!

Question

HARRASSED BY REAL UNSEEN EVIL ENITY

"Member 5369987" (C) Does any one know (other than church) where i can find help to remove this UNSEEN EVIL ENITY that has followed me from city to city in the last 15 year's,it hangs around all day and nite and harasses me,i tried all things possible to get rid of it,even priest! I feel i am right with God,I need someone who will persist till this thing is gone, One try may not be enough to eliminate 15 years of it being around. I never believed in these things until it happened to me, I THANK YOU FOR YOUR SEREOUS RESPONCES JOHN.

How can I utter one word when each moment My perplexity is more perplexing

There is no edge to my vast desert;
There is no peace for my heart and my soul.
The world is taken, from end to end, by image and form;
Which of these images is mine?
If you see a severed head on the way
Rolling in the direction of the battlefied;
Ask him, ask him concerning my secrets
For, from him you hear my hidden mysteries.
What if one ear could be found;
Suited to understand the speech of my birds.
What if one bird could fly,
Who wore my ring of Solomon's secrets [around her neck].
What am I saying? when I know telling this tale
Is beyond my limits and my ability is.
How can I utter one word when each moment
My perplexity is more perplexing.

(Divan 239:1-8)

There are roads, But they do not reach the world;

As for me, I delight
In the everyday Way,
Among mist-wrapped vines
And rocky caves.
Here in the wilderness
I am completely free,
With my friends,
The white clouds,
Idling forever.
There are roads,
But they do not reach the world;
Since I am mindless,
Who can rouse my thoughts?
On a bed of stone I sit,
Alone in the night,
While the round moon
Climbs up Cold Mountain.

-- Han shan ( 8th century)

Free to use the treasure house

My teacher said to me,
"The treasure house
within you contains everything,
and you are free to use it.
You don't need to seek outside."

-- Dazhu (487–593)

Will You Understand

In a grove of tall bamboos
Beside an ancient temple
Steam rolls from the brazier
In fragrant white clouds;
I show you the path of Sages
Beyond this floating world,
But will you understand
The lasting taste of spring?

-- Baisao (1675-1763)

Infinity

Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity and I'm not sure about the former.
 -- Albert Einstein

Abode of the Way

Heaven is calm and clear,
Earth is stable and peaceful.
Beings who lose these
Qualities die,
While those who
Emulate them live.
Calm spaciousness is the
House of spiritual light;
Open selflessness is the
Abode of the Way.

-- Huai-nan-tzu

Fear Death

What shall he fear that does not fear death
 -- Schiller, Johann Friedrich Von

Revolutionary Bureaucracy

Every revolution evaporates and leaves behind only the slime of a new bureaucracy.
  - Kafka, Franz

Solace or Assistance

You ARE right - nobody does love you

You are alone in this world and you will die alone, facing the long eternity of extinction without solace or assistance.

God is a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh. -- Voltaire

God is a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh.
  --  Voltaire

Perfectly Ambiguous Ending

"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity".

one seriously weird individual

We are talking about a seriously weird individual here (well, at least, someone who wants to be weird)

http://www.pdark.de/about-en.html

German version

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Some short facts about me FAQ Some short facts about me Size 2 Meters Hair color Dark Brown, almost black Eye color Blue-Gray Hobbies Communication Current Occupation First Contact Officer Current body Planetdestroyer #13 Age of current body 86'483 Earth years as of 1.1.1970 FAQ What does Current body mean? I'm an immortal life form. My origins go way back to beginning of the universe. Unfortunately, nothing material can stand the test of time so my bodies deteriorate and I'm forced to seek a new host. I'm not a prasitic lifeform, though. I don't remove the former owner of the body but instead form a symbiosis with them. Usually, the hosts evolve over time (or rather their souls do). When the body of the host finally becomes inhabitable, the former owner of the host has evolved that much that (s)he has no urges to posess a body anymore (which would end in a struggle for control of the next body). The advantage for someone to form a symbiosis with him is that we grant protection and psychic abilities (some would call this magic but that's a very imprecise term) to the new host who in turn uses them to influence his/her surroundings. Our current host, for example suffers from a computer virus, which has destroyed the other PDs during the last years of the great galactic war. By protecting him against the virus, we both get what we want. Where do you originally come from? I came to be on a small, nameless planet which was destroyed long ago when one of the eight suns it circulated turned into a Super Nova. My race (about 300 beings) died with its planet. Planetdestroyer? The term is more slang than real. We're not like the big energy projectors that you saw in the Star Wars movies. What's the point in blowing up a perfectly good planet? Instead, our modus operandi was to extinct the population on the surface of the planet or to drive it away. And did you? During the great galactic war, I destroyed three major populations (actually drove them into extinction) and wiped out the populations of 377 planets. I was responsible for 5'300'475'000'000 +/- 1% casualties. *ulp* And your job here? After the great war, I was cleaning hazardous zones (mine fields and other relicts of the great war). It is generally accepted that I contributed a major part to the rebuilding of the civilizations that we see in the galaxy today. My current occupation is that of a First Contact officer (FCO). FCOs seek emerging civilizations in our galaxy and protect them against external influences (technology smugglers or people who use our advances in social sciences to influence primitive sociologies). After the systems are sealed off, we wait until the civilization has evolved to a point where they have enough internal stability to survive the contact with a much advanced one. This is usually the around the time when a civilization begins to build the first colonies on other planets because this step takes a lot of energy and therefore needs a very broad support in the members of the civilization in question. This means that the internal struggles which usally destroy a civilization when it makes first contact with an advanced one, must have been resolved or are at least under control. Unfortunately, the evolution from a civilization, in which greed and agression are major driving forces, to the next level is usually one which is accompanied with a lot of turmoil because some of the most powerful or influential beeings of such civilizations have come to their positions because they were the most greedy and aggressive. Beeing greedy and agressive, they distrust the change and try to prevent it. Even if they know the futility of the attempt, beeing what they are forces them to still try to prevent this change to the worse for them. What do you especially like on Earth? I enjoy the creativity and power of young civilizations a lot. I like to be surprised by new ways to do things and, just like parents, I'm proud if my civilization has climbed another step on their own. Unlike real parents, I usually don't teach or influence; I'm only observing. Noting things. This has lead to some confusion in the past. Usually, people blame me for not stepping in and preventing damage. This is a charge against which I don't defend because of two things: First, people who blame this on me, are usually in an agitated state and talking to them is pointless. Secondly, if you can't do mistakes, then you cannot learn and thus, evolve. Preventing a child to burn its hands makes them careless. So please don't blame me for giving you the chance to learn. Copyright © 2001-2002 Aaron Digulla a.k.a. Philmann Dark. Last Modification: 27.11.2001

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The Mind of Steven Wright

If you're not familiar with the work of Steven Wright, he's the guy who once said: "I woke up one morning and all of my stuff had been stolen and replaced by exact duplicates." His mind sees things differently than we do - to our amazement and amusement. Here are some more of his gems:-

I'd kill for a Nobel Peace Prize.

Borrow money from pessimists - they don't expect it back.

Half the people you know are below average.

99% of lawyers give the rest a bad name.

42.7% of all statistics are made up on the spot.

A conscience is what hurts when all your other parts feel so good.

A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.

If you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain.

All those who believe in psycho kinesis, raise my hand.

The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.

I almost had a psychic girlfriend but she left me before we met.

OK, so what's the speed of dark?

How do you tell when you're out of invisible ink?

If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something.

Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.

When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.

Ambition is a poor excuse for not having enough sense to be lazy.

Hard work pays off in the future, laziness pays off now.

I intend to live forever - so far, so good.

If Barbie is so popular, why do you have to buy her friends?

Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.

What happens if you get scared half to death twice?

My mechanic told me, "I couldn't repair your brakes, so I made your horn louder."

Why do psychics have to ask you for your name?

If at first you don't succeed, destroy all evidence that you tried.

A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking.

Experience is something you don't get until just after you need it.

The hardness of the butter is proportional to the softness of the bread.

To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism; to steal from many is research.

The problem with the gene pool is that there is no lifeguard.

The sooner you fall behind, the more time you'll have to catch up.

Narcissism as the ultimate expression of 21st century religion

Narcissism as the ultimate expression of 21st century religion.
In the same manner that in the mid/later 20th century we truly experienced the essence of Nietszche, it is only in the very late 20th and early 21st century that we are now channeling the essence of Freud.

Habits

The second half of a man's life is made up of nothing but the habits he has acquired during the first half.
  - Fyodor Dostoevsky

In seeking the essence of the Way

In seeking the essence of the Way,
one should quiet the mind
and penetrate to the depths.
Silently wander within
and clearly see the origin
of all things, obscured by nothing.
The mind is boundless and formless,
just as the pure water
contains the essence of autumn.
It is glistening white and lustrously bright
in the same way that
moonlight envelops the entire night.

- Hung-chih (12th century)

Woody

Is sex dirty? Only if it's done right.
  - Woody Allen

Perfect Lover Perfect Love

"We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love".
  -- Tom Robbins in "Still Life With Woodpecker"

God, Spinoza, Einstein and Scott Adams

This is perfectly apposite to belief systems in our current society:
http://dilbertblog.typepad.com/the_dilbert_blog/2007/05/god_for_weasels.html

God for Weasels

One of the great things about being ignorant is that I often think my ideas are original. It's a wonderful feeling. That's why I try to avoid any knowledge that would spoil the sensation. Sometimes it isn't easy. People keep hurling knowledge at me, and I can't always duck.

For example, people often accuse me of ripping off the great philosopher Spinoza when I write about the universe being God, or when I say people obviously have no free will. I act like I know what they are talking about and quickly change the subject. In reality, I didn't know Spinoza from Shinola.

Einstein has famously said he believes in Spinoza's version of God. I always wondered why he invoked Spinoza. It was time to find out about this Spinoza dude. I'm far too lazy to read an entire book, so I went to Wikipedia and read what strangers with no credibility had to say about him.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baruch_Spinoza

Holy cow! My opinions match Spinoza's perfectly. It turns out that being ignorant is almost exactly like being a well-read student of philosophy who can quote from the work of the masters. How lucky is that?

Now I know why Einstein invoked Spinoza when talking about his beliefs. Einstein discovered more than the theory of relativity. He also found a way to act like he believed in God, so all the God-lovers would accept him as their own, while simultaneously saying God is nothing more than semantics, so atheists would embrace him too. And he blamed it all on a dead guy, Spinoza. How many ways does Einstein need to keep proving he's a genius? I mean seriously, this is just showing off.

I have decided to adopt Einstein's weasel-genius view of God so everyone thinks I'm on their side. That could come in handy when I run for President. For the record, I believe in Spinoza's God. Less than one percent of Americans will know what that means. The other 99% will think I believe God is a bearded guy who hands out harps in the afterlife. They will love me for being on their side.

I think Spinoza would be proud to know that his life's work boiled down to creating a God for weasels.

Pelagic Callipygian

cal·li·pyg·i·an        /ˌkæl əˈpɪdʒ i ən/ [kal-uh-pij-ee-uh n]
–adjective
having well-shaped buttocks.  

Also, cal·li·py·gous        /ˌkæl əˈpaɪ gəs/ [kal-uh-pahy-guh s]
  _____

[Origin: 1640–50; < Gk kallipýg(os) with beautiful buttocks; referring to a statue of Aphrodite (kalli- calli- + pyg( ) rump + -os adj. suffix) + -ian ]

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)
Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.  

American Heritage Dictionary -
cal·li·pyg·i·an        (kāl'ə-pĭj'ē-ən)
adj.   Having beautifully proportioned buttocks.   

---

pe·lag·ic        /pəˈlædʒ ɪk/ [puh-laj-ik]
–adjective
1.    of or pertaining to the open seas or oceans.     
2.    living or growing at or near the surface of the ocean, far from land, as certain organisms.   
Compare neritic, oceanic.
  _____

[Origin: 1650–60; > L pelagicus > Gk pelagikós, equiv. to pélag(os) the sea + -ikos -ic ]
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)
Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.

American Heritage Dictionary - Cite This Source
pe·lag·ic        (pə-lāj'ĭk)  
adj.   Of, relating to, or living in open oceans or seas rather than waters adjacent to land or inland waters: pelagic birds.   

Vain Wishes

You can't cross the sea merely by standing and staring at the water.  Don't let yourself indulge in vain wishes.
   -- Rabindranath Tagore

Treasure Mountain

It is pitiful that we are
living in a treasure mountain
but cannot see it.
If we develop an
enlightenment seeking mind,
everything becomes the
practice of enlightenment,
even if we are in the midst
of the various worlds of samsara.

- Dogen (1200-1253)

Go with the flow

Outwardly go along
With the flow,
While inwardly keeping
Your true nature.
Then your eyes and ears
Will not be dazzled,
Your thoughts will not
Be confused,
While the spirit within you
Will expand greatly to roam
In the realm of absolute purity.

- Huai-nan-tzu

A Dream Within A Dream (by Edgar Allan Poe)

A Dream Within A Dream by Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep - while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

Aspect are within us, and who seems most kingly is king

Aspect are within us, and who seems most kingly is king.
-- Hardy, Thomas

Just an ordinary person

When the mind's as is,
Circumstances also are as is.
There's no real
And also no unreal.
Giving no heed to existence
And holding not
To nonexistence,
You're neither saint nor sage,
Just an ordinary person
Who has settled their affairs.
Easy, so easy.

- Layman P'ang

And cannot those who once have lovd. ever forget their Love?

And he said Wherefore do I feel such love & pity
Ah Enion Ah Enion Ah lovely lovely Enion
How is this All my hope is gone for ever fled
Like a famishd Eagle Eyeless raging in the vast expanse
Incessant tears are now my food. incessant rage & tears
Deathless for ever now I wander seeking oblivion
In torrents of despair in vain. for if I plunge beneath
Stifling I live. If dashd in pieces from a rocky height
I reunite in endless torment. would I had never risen
From deaths cold sleep beneath the bottom of the raging Ocean
And cannot those who once have lovd. ever forget their Love?
Are love & rage the same passion? they are the same in me
Are those who love. like those who died. risen again from death
Immortal. in immortal torment. never to be deliverd
Is it not possible that one risen again from Death
Can die! When dark despair comes over [me] can I not
Flow down into the sea & slumber in oblivion. Ah Enion

-- William Blake
THE FOUR ZOAS (1797)
"Night The Fourth"
(see: http://www.english.uga.edu/nhilton/Blake/blaketxt1/the_four_zoas.html#nt4 )

The Wail of Enion

The Wail of Enion

I am made to sow the thistle for wheat, the nettle for a nourishing dainty:
I have planted a false oath in the earth, it has brought forth a Poison Tree:
I have chosen the serpent for a counsellor, and the dog
For a schoolmaster to my children:
I have blotted out from light and living the dove and nightingale,
And I have causèd the earthworm to beg from door to door:
I have taught the thief a secret path into the house of the just:
I have taught pale Artifice to spread his nets upon the morning
My heavens are brass, my earth is iron, my moon a clod of clay,
My sun a pestilence burning at noon, and a vapour of death in night.

What is the price of Experience? Do men buy it for a song,
Or Wisdom for a dance in the street? No! it is bought with the price
Of all that a man hath -- his house, his wife, his children.
Wisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come to buy,
And in the wither'd field where the farmer ploughs for bread in vain.

It is an easy thing to triumph in the summer's sun,
And in the vintage, and to sing on the waggon loaded with corn:
It is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflicted,
To speak the laws of prudence to the houseless wanderer,
To listen to the hungry raven's cry in wintry season,
When the red blood is fill'd with wine and with the marrow of lambs:

It is an easy thing to laugh at wrathful elements;
To hear the dog howl at the wintry door, the ox in the slaughter-house moan;
To see a God on every wind and a blessing on every blast;
To hear sounds of Love in the thunderstorm that destroys our enemy's house;
To rejoice in the blight that covers his field, and the sickness that cuts off his children,
While our olive and vine sing and laugh round our door, and our chil 1000 dren bring fruits and flowers.

Then the groan and the dolour are quite forgotten, and the slave grinding at the mill,

And the captive in chains, and the poor in the prison, and the soldier in the field
When the shatter'd bone hath laid him groaning among the happier dead:
It is an easy thing to rejoice in the tents of prosperity --
Thus would I sing and thus rejoice; but it is not so with me.

-- William Blake

(see http://users.compaqnet.be/cn127848/blake/collected/chap-27.html#enion )

Dangerous Plaything

The true man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous plaything.
 -- Friedrich Nietzsche

Success

The common idea that success spoils people by making them vain, egotistic, and self-complacent is erroneous, on the contrary, it makes them for the most part, humble, tolerant, and kind. Failure makes people bitter and cruel.
-- Maugham, W. Somerset

How very quickly life itself is pressed along its course

The sound of a swollen
Mountain stream rapidly rushing
Makes one know
How very quickly life itself
Is pressed along its course.

-- Saigyo (1118-1190)

Sages’ minds are luminous

Because they have no high
Opinions of themselves,
The sages' minds are luminous;
Not caring for status,
They become illustrious;
Being without pride,
They achieve success;
Unassertive, they are supreme.
Because they do not contend,
No one contends with them.

-- Lao-tzu