The Fifth Dimension

Not the singing group, but the next “identifier” after the conventional three and time as the fourth. If we want to identify, describe, “pinpoint” (not literally, of course, because an “object”, including living beings, as I mean the term, encompasses never as nonexistent an essence as an infinitely small point) a three-dimensional object along or across all its dimensions, it has long been contended that we need include time as the fourth; now we know where and when something is, so we can really locate it. But, can we? I contend, “no, we can’t” – we still don’t know exactly what it is we’re locating or identifying. What’s still missing from our dimensional coordinates is its existential reality (or plural, “realities”). So, if we’re talking about a person, we need to know not only where and when she or he is, but also what they were or are or will be feeling, thinking, etc.. Also, what’s going on inside them, in terms of their molecules’ Brownian motion, their constantly kinetic and changing atomic structure, their biochemistry, their synaptic, other electric, and metabolic occurrences, etc.? An inanimate object may not be as complex, but it still has its changing atomic realities going on.
If we want to get to the real me, we must locate me in time and space; let’s say at the intersection of longitude and latitude on December First, at 3:54 P.M., 1954, A.D.; but who is that “me”, at that time and place; I mean, who am I, really? Or, for that matter, what television are we talking about when we say a “Magnavox”, of a particular model, “pinpointed” in time and space? For example, is it on or off, and, if on, what signal(s) is/are it receiving? This we can somewhat know by knowing what programs were being broadcast then and there. We can check a TV Guide© for its time, place and available channels, but if we want to be even more precise, we need to account for the transmissions getting to us at about the speed of light (a microfraction of a light year from source of transmission).

Isn't This True?

Just as you can't keep your eyes open while you sneeze, you can't be bored while you're asleep.

Message to Bush I submitted at Whitehouse.gov

This is not a question; it's a statement: Bush, you are a rotten person. Believing in karma or ultimate justice, I'm sure you'll get all the consequences rapidly racking up for you - you pathetic piece of shit.

I am Your Dream

The me that (who) you always knew as me, as alive and me, is still alive or exists and is aware, and I AM your dream. See?; You are not just dreaming about me, I am me, and am your dream. I am now your dream. But, I still have my own, autonomous awareness and self-awareness. I know that you are dreaming of me, and I still feel myself as myself, as I always have. My “material” form has changed, but my self-awareness is as it ever was. You can no longer “see” me when you are awake, but I can still feel me, as I always have. You can no longer hear my voice, but I still think my thoughts and feel my feelings. I can still see and hear you, and can even, now, “read” your thoughts and feelings, as well as my own, and I love you – as much as ever!

About Blogging

Blogging is a way of acquiring some measure of immortality. Many of my most important dreams might have been squashed, but, at least I can say some things (like this) that have a good chance of living on well after I’m “gone”. These entries (“postings”, as “they” like to call them) are “expressions” of or by me and, by extension, are “extensions” of me. They capture, in a specific, maybe narrow form, part of me over a relatively brief span of always-fleeting time. A moment approaches, and then it’s gone…forever. So, we take pictures…and make movies…and paint pictures…and make music. – All of these actions often directly come from the deep, primal urge to immortalize ourselves – to embed our handprints wherever; somewhere along the universal walk-of-fame of all time and all people. This compulsion to make as firm and permanent a mark as possible is intertwined with, if not equivalent to, our need to belong – to be a vital cell within the body of The Great Organism. We, collectively, are the true “God”. We can each be seen and felt and touched, as we all can, together. This conception of God is critically, essentially different from the conventional one, in that we KNOW that we are real and we exist; belief has nothing to do with it. There can be no such thing as an atheist in a “religion” that puts collective humanity in place as its central God. Can anyone even agnostically doubt his or her own existence? I know that I, as a “cell” exist; I can “hear” my own thoughts and feel my own pain, and I pretty-well-equally believe that you all are out there, though I can’t hear your thoughts, nor feel your pain (I make no pretense of, nor hold no illusions of being Bill Clinton). Yet he, as separate from me, is equally a cell of this great, all-time, all-place All-Humanity Being. Of course, I can feel my pain from learning of your suffering, which is empathy and/or compassion, but I can’t feel yours, directly, as you do.

We are evolving, people. We are seeing and learning that mean-spiritedness and selfishness (when destructive toward others) serves neither you nor I, in the long-run. We see that Imus, though as much a “cell” as anyone, has lost his privileged position for being his all-too-long-rewarded, carelessly callous public persona, and, as such, he did humanity wrong. Who’s next to go? – Carlos Mencia? I never found race-bating type humor to be particularly funny. These “comics” seem to like to see themselves as being “on the cutting edge”, but they’re more “cutting” than “on the edge”. But, evolution happens. We don’t need to impose more censorship to rid ourselves of these toxic cells; they just ultimately get pushed to the wayside by the body’s miraculous immune system. We learn that some cells, that have been passing as healthy (materially prosperous) are, in fact, infected, toxic, and must be isolated, removed, reprogrammed, regrooved. Now, I don’t think that I’d call Imus the collective body’s equivalent to a “cancer cell”; Hitler was a full-blown cancer cell; but he has been a diseased and infectious one. Maybe he just needs to be “cured” and sent back to work in a more commensurate, menial position.

I blog, and We are God.

A Dream I Just Had

I had this elaborate dream. It seemed that I had not graduated from my psych doctoral program because my GPA was just too low – like a 3.2 instead of a 3.3, AND that, somehow, a sprinkler going off on a lawn on my childhood block was responsible for distracting me, and THAT’s why I got the 3.2. Then, as I thought more about it, and I became a little more awake, I remembered that the actual reason was that I hadn’t finished my dissertation, which was a relief – because it WASN’T just the thin thread of the sprinkler and the tenth of a point of grade.

Then I repeatedly walked through these woods. I was down and out, without a job, didn’t have money, and was trying to get “out of the woods” by this repeated literal working and reworking my path through these woods, putting great thought and effort to it, each time (somewhat, as one “works through”, in psychoanalysis). In fact, much of it WAS self-analytical. There was also this rock that I’d see along the way, that looked as though it might have had a fossil of a shell in it, but I’d pass it by, the first few times, because I determined that it really WASN’T a fossil. Then, the last time, I was being followed by guards, as I was on private property (in these woods), and they perceived me as a possible threat. They were as much a small army, with rifles, as “guards”. I realized that they decided not to approach me or try to harm or capture me, until they determined more about the nature of who I was. They also apparently didn’t realize that I was on to their presence. I had a sense that, as they saw me act in progressively higher functioning ways, they’d abandon the idea that I was a potential threat, and was, in fact, on a more “professorial” level. On this last trip through the woods, I looked, again, at the rock, and saw that it was, in fact a fossil, and took it with me. Then, I had come to this multi-leveled sort of office building, that was part of a university. It consisted more of open walkways. And, again (or, “still”), I repeated walking them, in an attempt toward working through to a better level of circumstance for myself. It was as though it were a mental health clinic/department, run by the university, and I wanted them to see that I could, in fact, WORK there, as a psychologist, and that I shouldn’t be there as a needy client. It seemed that I DID get to the point where they had decided to pay me a small stipend or salary, but it was too meager. I discovered a rate card that indicated they were trying to decide on paying me either 16-hundred something or 23-hundred something, or only as high as 35-hundred something, per month. I felt strongly that this was way too little for them to pay a psychologist with two kids and a wife, so experienced and advanced in his life and in years – even if it WAS according to the scale they paid interns at the beginning of their career (going up on the salary rung, one step a year). And, it seemed that, at that rate, it would take me five more years to begin making a living wage. I also somehow discovered that they were making either 5 million or 5 billion dollars, directly as the result of the work I was doing, so I was about ready to demand that they pay me what I deserved. But, I also was aware that there was an effort, now, on “their” part, to assassinate me, both to avoid meeting my personal demands, and because they realized I was about to expose their high-proceed-getting scheme and corruption to the public. My journey of self-analysis and discovery had led to and become one of EXternal investigation into what “they” were doing. I believed that it was getting harder and harder to evade or avoid getting assassinated. They even began firing these big cannonball type things at me, from the walkway across from mine, but I repelled it with my mind, and put it back on them (telekinetic judo). One shot actually hit the main guy shooting at me, and he had a look of amazement and horror on his face, with his eyes wide open, as he fell back, over the side of the building, and out of sight, to his sure death. Then, like Martin Luther King, I knew that they might ultimately or soon succeed in killing me, and I began, sort of in coded language, to let the broader, more-innocent outside world know that I knew this, but was not afraid, because I was innocent and, in this way (by “virtue” – pun intended – of this), had more power than they did; no matter how it turned out, the side of “good” had the upper hand, and would win.