The Lightning Storm

Nikola Tesla relajandose en su laboratoria (Colorado Springs, 1899)I witnessed one of the most beautiful happenings in all my life on this planet:  a thunderstorm. Oh, how utterly standard and mundane you may think. But, this is not true (in my opinion) for the first time I comprehended more of the immensity that is a thunderstorm (really I ought to say lightning storm, for that was the star of “performance”). Having spent some time researching and studying electricity (and, again, here lightning be the star of the show) as well as neuroscience (more electricity) so with the history, movement, evolution, and tomes of electricity coursing through my fevered and excited brain (fevered and excited at what new things I am learning and thinking and comprehending), this lightning storm was completely different than all others I had witnessed before it. I thought of the reports I’d read of Nikola Tesla supine upon his couch in his laboratory beneath the great windows contemplating lightning, perhaps giving birth to new thoughts, ideas, inventions, and inspirations.

Benjamin Franklin Drawing Electricity from the Sky (ca.1816)I thought of the report of Benjamin Franklin and his famous (albeit usually incorrectly described or outright fabricated) kite and key experiment. It’s funny that this is what is most associated with Franklin and yet it is but a minor event among his feats. One must never trust the schools to impart any kind of information or knowledge. It is greatly misgiving and deceiving.

Mostly, I contemplated the power of efficient use of lightning. What can be accomplished with its unleashed power (nowadays such a natural occurrence as electricity is leashed and has been since the days of Thomas Alva Edison. What insanity is this? What absurdity I this? To leash the abundance of electricity?! Prior to the innovations of Edison, electricity was studied because its powers were so mysterious and so curious. But it was Edison who thought of how to leash it in order to profit from it. It was Edison, so I’ve read reported, that came up with the idea of charging people by the kilowatt hour. Up until then, electricity was merely turned on or off, like the valve of a water hose). I can see how all those great minds were as enamored with electricity. How all those fevered minds were excited into experimentation.

Double StrikeSuch beauty, this lightning. It’s the action, the interaction of cloud, ground (earth), particles, atoms, molecules, direction and current, all combining into this reaction called Lightning. How interesting its origins. Light-ning. Yes, light. It is brighter than any other I’ve seen on Earth, and enough to spoil the sun before my eyes. And I thought of the brain, and the “lightning” that is said to occur there. I love the possibilities of this planet, I truly love what it is capable of including growing humans). What disturbs me are the utterly unnatural (as blatantly arrogant supernatural) regulations performed by humans.

*Image Credits (all work used through permission of CC license or public domain)–
“Nikola Tesla relajandose en su laboratoria (Colorado Springs, 1899)” by Recuerdos de Pandora
“Double Strike” by Michael Bolognesi
“Benjamin Franklin Drawing Electricity from the Sky (ca. 1816” by Benjamin West

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Laws of the Earth

 

Law.A rule of action prescribed by a superior, which an inferior is bound to obey: 36 C.J. 957

 

laws for atoms

laws for atoms (Photo credit: Will Lion)

What kind of world do we live in when sesame street has gone from ABCs and 123s to My Mommy/Daddy is in Prison and My Daddy/Mommy Broke a Law? How does this not scream crisis emergency epidemic to the world? How has humanity become so complacent that the existence of parents/people in prison has become so common place that Sesame Street has taken to incorporated it into their television programming and offering Incarceration Tool Kits. I’m not sure if that makes it better or makes it that much more tragic. It has become so normalized and such a standard (incarceration, breaking laws) that a progam dedicated to children is now using it. Let us forget for a moment about the abstractions that are laws and what it means to break an abstraction, let us play around in this reality for a while. The comic tragedy of it is no less severe. Watching the videos on Sesame Street’s website play out like a skit from SNL or perhaps MADtv or even The State or some parody on YouTube. Yet, sincerity and seriousness must be acknowledged. The US has stepped over yet another line in the consciousness, there are now so many people in prison (and not all of these prison sentences are just, but let us save that for another essay) that it is now not an HBO special or a trumped up, sensationalized multi-million dollar CGI Hollywood film, but a Sesame Street program. Has human existence sunk this low? Are there way too many laws anymore? According to an article in the Wall Street Journal, perhaps there are. The number of federal laws in the united states for which anyone could be indicted for are innumerable? Does no one else find this disturbing. I’m sorry, what was freedom again.

Shouldn’t we be embarrassed? Shouldn’t we be raging against such an onslaught of obvious mockery at humans being? Shouldn’t there be crying and gnashing and clenching teeth in the streets that there never was any freedom, that the promises promised were never meant to come true, that EVERYONE is bound for the mental electric chair?

Yet, many too many line up voluntarily for the noose and consider themselves lucky to be given the soft rope, and place firmly their hands upon the plough. What mental holocaust should abound now that humanity has leased his grounds to the corporate teat?

No more, I say, shall I kneel as a coward before the sheep clad in gold. No more shall I walk with head bowed into the belly of an iron beast and shame my self esteemed great. I ask for no other to walk with me flat feet upon the earth, as I shall walk regardless, with my toes digging into the soft dirt and plush grass. I shall hang my hat upon a low branch, and I build my home among the upturned roots of a fallen tree.

Outside of the local conundrums of Schrodinger’s box can there be any concept like free. Until people realize the obviousness of this,  humans will continue to be incarcerated by laws so innumerable the only solution will be the creation of a paralyzed Utopia, intent upon the destruction of uncertainty, the murder of unknown, and the jailing of infinity in the name of human insecurity, fluttering away Life for what is sold on TV.

“We do not ‘come into’ this world; we come out of it, as leaves from a tree. As the ocean ‘waves,’ the universe ‘peoples.’ Every individual is an expression of the whole realm of nature, a unique action of the total universe. This fact is rarely, if ever, experienced by most individuals.” ~Alan Watts

The Guise of the Neurotypicals

Rain for 3 days changes one’s countenance. What one could have begun in high spirits after the middle of the second day (and certainly after sleeping two nights in the damp) one’s spirit have plummeted and take to finding any small not-even-an-imperfection worth bickering over. The bickering is not the humdrums, though; it is the sulking that can drive one mad.

heaven's glowI try not to sulk, although, I admit to becoming rather pensive and confused over otherwise simple matters. This is the effect rain, cold, and damp have over me. It is why I prefer the sunshine to any other weather because I love to be out of doors. To frolic with little clothing, bare feet, flowing hair, the sun warms skin burning in the ultraviolet, vitamin D chemical reaction (ah, but we are such waveforms, our lives the modulation of frequency), grass and soft dirt beneath the soles of my feet. The soles of my feet softened by earth rather than blistered and calloused by cotton and leather imprisonment—how I hate socks and shoes—skin perspiring and pores breathing oxygen high; there is nothing like the sun and its reaction upon me. I prefer the sun, despite knowing its illusion. I prefer the reaction of, the chemistry of it all.

How it affects my form, the same as the animals and the flowers and the earth, all but the buildings and pavement, which reject the sun, irradiates it back into the atmosphere like the hell it is. “Pollution” of excess heat, no absorption just toxic waste. I abhor that my chosen avoidance of neurotypicals would force me to dwell in the rain or snow just so they will not follow. But I am sick of the running, I am sick of their false power. They have none! No more or less than I. Why do I behave as if they are my superior, as if they are the determination of my choice?

fractal stock dg 11012012It seems as if I enact the predestined pre-determined whims of some unseen force always trying to show that I should milk the cow, to benefit from their (neurotypicals’) willed obeisance and their unconsciousness, because I have conscious. But my question always keeps me from this game. Why is that the only game in town available to a conscious being? Why must a conscious being consume the unconscious? Does that not make of me a vampire? Why is it only vampirism that is offered? Is there nothing else other than vampirism or escape? Is this the joke?

I do not think so. I think, no, I intuit that there is something more. That more than 2 exists. How can choosing from only 2 promise freedom? Was I not then forced to choose? What freedom holds there within? Would not freedom arise from presentation of any number? Or from the fields and folds of my imagination? What of this 2?! Who made it up?

owl fractalAnd this idea of happiness: why does it only arise from either of the two? What is this happiness? What probable unfulfilled promise is this? Who are the parties of this contract? Who is selling this dream? The same misery supposedly arising from the either end of the two? Who invented this will, and why should I borrow it? Why should I trade for naught? This is what I cannot comprehend about it.

I would rather live outside the 2 and the guise of the neurotypicals, forgo such commercials and happiness and misery and, live instead until I die doing as I will, always expanding, always genesis. What wrong comes from this? What expectations?

I have no expectation, great or small. I was once asked did I have expectations. I said I had none, why would I? How could I? I wait in the moment until another moment arrives, until then I have no idea what should transpire once there, and I have no judgment afterward; for every moment is fleeting. For this, I am called naïve. I do not know why really. I am also called autistic, I do not know why really. I have heard the definitions of such accusations and still do not understand. The terms are always rudimentary to me, as easily applicable to genius or wisdom as naïve or autism. Does that not depend only upon the beholder? As I have no such estimations of my own. I do not know why, yet, it seems that neurotypicals do have some kind of expectations of me, that pop quizzes are always laid before me that I inevitably fail. But my failure is not from lack of study, only from a differing version of perception.

It is if I am not expected to have ways of seeing unique to how I am, but must circle the correct answer on the test before I am permitted worthy enough to pass the next level. Will I never graduate from school?!

fractal stock 8I do not want schooling; see I dropped out of schooling (although, I possess both high school diploma and college degree, but these pedigrees are not what I mean). I will take my chances at autodidactic, thank you. I do not need a mentor, nor do I need validation in order to be comfortable with what I see and think. I do not care if no one believes anything I say or if no one cares about what I say. I am not in pursuit of celebrity or guru or other such nonsense. I do not understand why that is difficult for neurotypicals to grasp. I really do not care if neurotypicals and their guises think me stupid, intelligent, pretty, ugly, man, woman, disgraceful, pleasant, love, hate; why would any of that matter?

When I argue with such nonsense it is not the accusation I counter, but the premise presented. The argument is untrue, a contradiction, so I make the mistake of trying to unwind the contradiction, but I lack patience, sanity, and motivation to tarry effectively or very long. . . . because I really do not care, and more it drives me screaming into madness days required from which to recover.

So, the quiet is far more preferable than proof, disproof or thought. I want to live in the woods and the sun, not to avoid certain kinds of people or to escape industrial civilization, but because I wish for quiet . . . so I can think (intuit, i.e., thinking without words). So I can Be (i.e., chaotic stillness). So, I can share true conversation and swat these gnats from my mind.

A job or social security are both just banks to me, a place that deposits money to an account electronically. What difference does the name and architecture make? They are both symbols of bureaucracies, both ships steered by regulation and law, both subjects of the Ancient Ones. Why do I care the guise? Madness beats beneath each mask.

*Image Credits (all artwork used with permission through CC license)–
“Heaven’s  Glow” by PapayaPirate
“Lights of the Mind 0007” by agsandrew 
“Fractal Stock DG-11012012” by DsyneGrafix 
“OWL Fractal”  by dzikir
“Fractal Stock 08” by Ox3ArtStock