A Maelstrom. (Poetry)

All I've ever wanted was a woman to share my enthusiasm towards what I love.
I've raised my interest since its infancy and not everyone loves a stepchild.
Understandable.
The equation has always been the same.
Multiply by you and divide by me.
Although my life will no longer be comprised of double negatives,
...baby, you ain't seen nothin' yet.

Must I ignore you to the point broken shadows of novelty bore you like a golden calf?
False idols come a dime a dozen when everybody wants to be one.
Honestly, the thought of camaraderie amongst sex symbols has grown into a debatable commodity when one considers that they all branched out from our only
two
sex
symbols.

Some are in love with this world,
but I'm out of it.
The cycllic mischief of a wizards picnic couldn't compare to how I've been bibbidi
Bobbidi
Boo-ed about.
It doesn't take a physicist to know what comes up,
must come down.
And what goes in,
must come out.
My left and right foot have gone numb from voluntary spasms,
the hokey pokey got me where I am today.
Thirsty for inspiration.
I've turned myself around only to see why I shouldn't have.

If I was paid for the all of the shoulda coulda woulda's I've spewed from these lips,
I'd be the richest drake in Duckburg.
In this world, nature will always win.
But game theory will always always hold a dagger to her throat.

Whats the difference between you and I, you ask?
If I knew then what I know now,
all I would want to know is how it even occured in the first place.

Living in a space where time is just a glare enables me to wince at what many would need a flashlight for.
It's not easy being a beacon when rock blocks your only responsibility.
And if I don't save the world,
I want to at least save someones.
My utility belt is paperbacked
and my cape isn't what allows me to tip-toe over the ocean of your aura.

Remember that.

Oh, fortune.

Before German composer Carl Orff set this medieval poem to music in the mid-1930's, it was originally written by the Goliards, who were noted for their satirical works. For a 13th century clergy to consider this satire definitely speaks volumes of what was experienced in those days in time.

I say that to say this.
The truly apathetic nature of nature itself is merely a current one can flow with or swim against.
It is a mountain with no height.

Unless you are fluent in a dead language, I doubt you have ever heard such truth.
This song has the potential to change everything.

"O Fortune,
like the moon
you are changeable,
always waxing
or waning;
detestable life
now difficult
and then easy
deceive a sharp mind;
poverty
power
it melts them like ice.

Fate—monstrous
and empty,
you whirling wheel,
stand malevolent,
vain health
always dissolves,
shadowed
and veiled
you plague me too;
now through trickery,
my bare back
I bring to your villainy.

Fate, in health
and in virtue,
is now against me,
affection
and defeat
always enslaved.
So at this hour
without delay
pluck the vibrating string;
since Fate
strikes down the strong man,
everyone weep with me!"

Run for your life.

“Bruce had me up to three miles a day, really at a good pace. We’d run the three miles in twenty-one or twenty-two minutes. Just under eight minutes a mile [Note: when running on his own in 1968, Lee would get his time down to six-and-a half minutes per mile]. So this morning he said to me “We’re going to go five.” I said, “Bruce, I can’t go five. I’m a helluva lot older than you are, and I can’t do five.” He said, “When we get to three, we’ll shift gears and it’s only two more and you’ll do it.” I said “Okay, hell, I’ll go for it.” So we get to three, we go into the fourth mile and I’m okay for three or four minutes, and then I really begin to give out. I’m tired, my heart’s pounding, I can’t go any more and so I say to him, “Bruce if I run any more,” –and we’re still running- ”if I run any more I’m liable to have a heart attack and die.”

He said, “Then die.” It made me so mad that I went the full five miles. Afterward I went to the shower and then I wanted to talk to him about it. I said, you know, “Why did you say that?” He said, “Because you might as well be dead. Seriously, if you always put limits on what you can do, physical or anything else, it’ll spread over into the rest of your life. It’ll spread into your work, into your morality, into your entire being. There are no limits. There are plateaus, but you must not stay there, you must go beyond them. If it kills you, it kills you. A man must constantly exceed his level.”

The Tetrapharmakos.

Is the Tetrapharmakos the ideal way to go about daily life? Things have obviously changed since these seemingly archaic times. Taking life too seriously is superfluous when one acknowledges that we aren't going to make it out alive anyway.
Just something to think about.


"Don't fear god,
Don't worry about death;
What is good is easy to get, and
What is terrible is easy to endure."
(Philodemus, Herculaneum Papyrus, 1005, 4.9-14).[2]

In the original Greek:
"Άφοβον ο θεός,
ανύποπτον ο θάνατος
και ταγαθόν μεν εύκτητον,
το δε δεινόν ευκαρτέρητον."
(Philodemus, Herculaneum Papyrus, 1005, 4.9-14)


The Tetrapharmakos (τετραφάρμακος), or, "The four-part cure," is the Greek philosopher Epicurus' (341 BC, Samos – 270 BC, Athens) remedy for leading the happiest possible life. The "tetrapharmakos" was originally a compound of four drugs (wax, tallow, pitch and resin); the word has been used metaphorically by Epicurus and his disciples to refer to the four remedies for healing the soul.

Don’t fear god.

As a prelude to "Don't worry about death," the concept of "god" in Epicurus' time was incompatible to Epicurus' beliefs. The worrying about whether or not the gods are concerned about the actions of human beings and the amount of observance and worship ascribed to them, was the general relationship of man's belief to the gods' purpose and temperament. But Epicurus and many other Greeks at the time conceived the gods to be a hypothetical state of bliss rather than higher bodies of judgment; they are undestructable entities that are completely invulnerable, enviable to mortals, and, most importantly, unconcerned about anything beyond the bliss and happiness they represent. They are mere role models for human beings "who emulate the happiness of the gods, within the limits imposed by human nature."

Don’t worry about death.

As D. S. Hutchinson wrote concerning this line, "While you are alive, you don't have to deal with being dead, but when you are dead you don't have to deal with it either, because you aren't there to deal with it." In Epicurus' own words, "Death means nothing to us...when we exist, death is not yet present, and when death is present, then we do not exist,"[5] for there is no afterlife after we die. Death, says Epicurus, is the greatest anxiety of all, in length and intensity. This anxiety about death impedes the quality and happiness of one's life by the theory of afterlife: the worrying about whether or not one's deeds and actions in life will translate well into the region of the gods, the wondering whether one will be assigned to an eternity of pain or to an eternity of pleasure.[6]

What is good is easy to get.

Sustenance and shelter, these things can be acquired by anyone—by both animal and human—with minimal effort, regardless of wealth. But if one wants more than one needs (over indulgency, gluttony, etc.), one is limiting the chances of satisfaction and happiness, and therefore creating a “needless anxiety” in one’s life. "What is good is easy to get" implies that the minimum amount of necessity it takes to satisfy an urge is the maximum amount of interest a person should have in satisfying that urge.


What is terrible is easy to endure.

The Epicureans understood that, in nature, illness and pain is not suffered for very long, for pain and suffering is either "brief or chronic...either mild or intense, but discomfort that is both chronic and intense is very unusual; so there is no need to be concerned about the prospect of suffering." Like "What is good is easy to get," recognizing one's physical and mental limit and one's threshold of pain—understanding how much pain the body or mind can endure—and maintaining confidence that pleasure only follows pain (and the avoidance of anxiety about the length of pain), is the remedy against prolonged suffering.

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tetrapharmakos

Dear her.

It was always you.
I remember the promising potential on your otherwise blue facade.
The innocence dancing across your face was never much to be desired at first.

Willows weep dew for lost love into puddles that were never there to begin with.
Such a thought would cripple the brave,
inebriate the devout,
and devour the senses.

The sheer inspiration you gave me was self-inflicted and it's a shame I've had trouble regaining such an alignment to stay driven.
I mean, what can I say?
I'm me.

Will I ever reach such a destination?
Father Time will only tell and he knows how to keep a secret.

To explore your inner sanctum and use my tounge to paint my face on your
caverns walls would be enough to let any visitor after myself know that I was there.

Repelling down your fjords for the soul purpose of excavating what was mine to begin
with doesn't seem that far-fetched when I've fetched far.
I just happened to remember where I lost my totem.

It didn't take long for me to realize that rains have washed it to sea.
Perhaps I'm in the wrong place.
I no longer recognize the valley.

Self-actualization is the only true seed of change and I'm glad I gave you such a gift.
The only thing I regret is spreading the word of what I thought you were.

It's easy to misconstrue the vision of some one who looked up to you.

In essence, we're all as mighty as you think you are.
But to revolve around the light that encompasses our being is vital to our survival.

I've wanted to see what was inside of you for so long; perhaps we could shine together.
However, chances are, I will never melt through the ice I've caused when you needed me the most.
So remember, there are things that are bigger than you and I.

As above, so below.
Until next time.


Yours truly,
The Sun

The term "alien" is putting it mildly.

I found this image searching for glorious visions of our universe taken with the Hubble space telescope. The further we look out into space, the further we see into something that has already occurred. We can't visualize anything in distant galaxies without merely seeing what it was. We as human beings can only look into the past whilst we gaze upon the stars. For example, if Betelgeuse exploded tomorow, we wouldn't be able to observe it's occurance for millions of years. Now that the layman disclaimer is over, lets see if we can get an official answer.
What the hell is this?
This is a picture of the Large Magellanic Cloud. It looks as if it is a creature within a clear disc covering its body entirely. If you notice the lighting of the image itself, you will see how the distance of whatever it is seems to be accurate to it's location amongst the stars.
I've taken the liberty of zooming in on the photo itself. It hasn't been doctored at all. No photoshop here, folks. I wouldn't be wasting my time typing this if it wasn't an incomprehensible inquiry of my own.
To me, it looks like some sort of feline-like creature (only because of it's tail) with a red hat, green eyes, and a blue shirt. It also seems as if it's being held within a disc that enables it to travel through the cosmos effortlessly. For anything to be out in space that looks like a being without a spaceship is quite strange to me.
Mind you, we're located about 160,000 light years away.
I can only hope that this post will actually stir up questions.
Any thoughts?

Ze Flatlands.

"Fie, fie, how franticly I square my talk!"

To

The Inhabitants of SPACE IN GENERAL
And H. C. IN PARTICULAR
This Work is Dedicated
By a Humble Native of Flatland
In the Hope that
Even as he was Initiated into the Mysteries
Of THREE Dimensions
Having been previously conversant
With ONLY TWO
So the Citizens of that Celestial Region
May aspire yet higher and higher
To the Secrets of FOUR FIVE OR EVEN SIX Dimensions
Thereby contributing
To the Enlargement of THE IMAGINATION
And the possible Development
Of that most rare and excellent Gift of MODESTY
Among the Superior Races

Of SOLID HUMANITY

Preface to the Second and Revised Edition, 1884 by the Editor

If my poor Flatland friend retained the vigour of mind which he enjoyed when he began to compose these Memoirs, I should not now need to represent him in this preface, in which he desires, firstly, to return his thanks to his readers and critics in Spaceland, whose appreciation has, with unexpected celerity, required a second edition of his work; secondly, to apologize for certain errors and misprints (for which, however, he is not entirely responsible); and, thirdly, to explain one or two misconceptions. But he is not the Square he once was. Years of imprisonment, and the still heavier burden of general incredulity and mockery, have combined with the natural decay of old age to erase from his mind many of the thoughts and notions, and much also of the terminology, which he acquired during his short stay in Spaceland. He has, therefore, requested me to reply in his behalf to two special objections, one of an intellectual, the other of a moral nature.

The first objection is, that a Flatlander, seeing a Line, sees something that must be thick to the eye as well as long to the eye (otherwise it would not be visible, if it had not some thickness); and consequently he ought (it is argued) to acknowledge that his countrymen are not only long and broad, but also (though doubtless in a very slight degree) thick or high. His objection is plausible, and, to Spacelanders, almost irresistible, so that, I confess, when I first heard it, I knew not what to reply. But my poor old friend's answer appears to me completely to meet it.

"I admit," said he - when I mentioned to him this objection - "I admit the truth of your critic's facts, but I deny his conclusions. It is true that we have really in Flatland a Third unrecognized Dimension called `height,' just as it is also true that you have really in Spaceland a Fourth unrecognized Dimension, called by no name at present, but which I will call `extra-height'. But we can no more take cognizance of our `height' then you can of your `extra-height'. Even I - who have been in Spaceland, and have had the privilege of understanding for twenty-four hours the meaning of `height' - even I cannot now comprehend it, nor realize it by the sense of sight or by any process of reason; I can but apprehend it by faith.

"The reason is obvious. Dimension implies direction, implies measurement, implies the more and the less. Now, all our lines are equally and infinitesimally thick (or high, whichever you like); consequently, there is nothing in them to lead our minds to the conception of that Dimension. No `delicate micrometer' - as has been suggested by one too hasty Spaceland critic - would in the least avail us; for we should not know what to measure, nor in what direction. When we see a Line, we see something that is long and bright; brightness, as well as length, is necessary to the existence of a Line; if the brightness vanishes, the Line is extinguished. Hence, all my Flatland friends - when I talk to them about the unrecognized Dimension which is somehow visible in a Line - say, `Ah, you mean brightness': and when I reply, `No, I mean a real Dimension,' they at once retort `Then measure it, or tell us in what direction it extends'; and this silences me, for I can do neither. Only yesterday, when the Chief Circle (in other words our High Priest) came to inspect the State Prison and paid me his seventh annual visit, and when for the seventh time he put me the question, `Was I any better?' I tried to prove to him that he was `high,' as well as long and broad, although he did not know it. But what was his reply? `You say I am "high"; measure my "highness" and I will believe you.' What could I do? How could I meet his challenge? I was crushed; and he left the room triumphant.

"Does this still seem strange to you? Then put yourself in a similar position. Suppose a person of the Fourth Dimension, condescending to visit you, were to say, `Whenever you open your eyes, you see a Plane (which is of Two Dimensions) and you infer a Solid (which is of Three); but in reality you also see (though you do not recognize) a Fourth Dimension, which is not colour nor brightness nor anything of the kind, but a true Dimension, although I cannot point out to you its direction, nor can you possibly measure it.' What would you say to such a visitor? Would not you have him locked up? Well, that is my fate: and it is as natural for us Flatlanders to lock up a Square for preaching the Third Dimension, as it is for you Spacelanders to lock up a Cube for preaching the Fourth. Alas, how strong a family likeness runs through blind and persecuting humanity in all Dimensions! Points, Lines, Squares, Cubes, Extra- Cubes - we are all liable to the same errors, all alike the Slaves of our respective Dimensional prejudices, as one of your Spaceland poets has said -

`One touch of Nature makes all worlds akin.'"1

On this, point the defence of the Square seems to me to be impregnable. I wish I could say that his answer to the second (or moral) objection was equally clear and cogent. lt has been objected that he is a woman-hater; and as this objection has been vehemently urged by those whom Nature's decree has constituted the somewhat larger half of the Spaceland race, I should like to remove it, so far as I can honestly do so. But the Square is so unaccustomed to the use of the moral terminology of Spaceland that I should be doing him an injustice if I were literally to transcribe his defence against this charge. Acting, therefore, as his interpreter and summarizer, I gather that in the course of an imprisonment of seven years he has himself modified his own personal views, both as regards Women and as regards the Isosceles or Lower Classes. Personally, he now inclines to the opinion of the Sphere that the Straight Lines are in many important respects superior to the Circles. But, writing as a Historian, he has identified himself (perhaps too closely) with the views generally adopted by Flatland, and (as he has been informed) even Spaceland, Historians; in whose pages (until very recent times) the destinies of Women and of the masses of mankind have seldom been deemed worthy of mention and never of careful consideration.

In a still more obscure passage he now desires to disavow the Circular or aristocratic tendencies with which some critics have naturally credited him. While doing justice to the intellectual power with which a few Circles for many generations maintained their supremacy over immense multitudes of their countrymen, he believes that the facts of Flatland, speaking for themselves without comment On his part, declare that Revolutions cannot always be suppressed by slaughter; and that Nature, in sentencing the Circles to infecundity, has condemned them to ultimate failure - "and herein," he says, "I see a fulfillment of the great Law of all worlds, that while the wisdom of Man thinks it is working one thing, the wisdom of Nature constrains it to work another, and quite a different and far better thing." For the rest, he begs his readers not to suppose that every minute detail in the daily life of Flatland must needs correspond to some other detail in Spaceland; and yet he hopes that, taken as a whole, his work may prove suggestive as well as amusing, to those Spacelanders of moderate and modest minds who - speaking of that which is of the highest importance, but lies beyond experience - decline to say on the one hand, "This can never be," and on the other hand, "It must needs be precisely thus, and we know all about it."

http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Flatland