Namens VSA in WSA met aanwezigheid van de toestemming om in akkoord met de Homologatie mogelijkheden van HIMA met de Justitie van Japan en Frankrijk een aantal passende maatregelen te treffen; met een conditio vanwegen VSA tegen Regering Balkenende (CDA-/-schuldigen) en spoedig passende werk te regelen  voor VSA vanwegen acuut gezondheidsituatie. Een Nederlandse intellectuele rechter kan zijn verantwoording nemen voor de justificatie-proces dat 5 á 6 jaar van factor 10 jaar, op zich heeft laten wachten, en weet als een onafhankelijke rechter wat draagvlakken zijn en rechtmatigheden zijn, en weet ook dat slavernij de excuus van een ander kan zijn om iets goed te praten.

De bedoeling van de passende maatregelen moet een homologatie bevorderen voor DDDD zodat de nationale-aansprakelijkheid gebeuren verantwoording neemt voor de internationale-aansprakelijkheid gebeuren, ter veredediging van mijn positie en voor het voortdracht voor een mogelijke executoriaal waar een tussenvonnis kan worden bevestigt met de Japanse en Franse justitie vanwegen de geldigheid van VSA inzake ROPE.

De huidige stand van zaken betreffende “undercover-relatie” en “verstandhoudingen” met intellectuelen vanwegen DDDD hebben de kans om zichzelf te kwalificeren voor het hervormen van een nieuwe regering, mits hen ook begrijpen dat alles wat cynistisch is, corrupt is geen enkele passage mag hebben van hen verleden, heden en toekomst.

De bedoeling is dat de “militairen buiten de aandachtigheids feedback van WSA” geen toegang meer hebben tot het trachtten misbruik te maken van de conditie waarin WSA verkeert en dus het saboteren van de waarheid vanwegen Iraq en Afghanistan en het verbintenis dat ze hebben met de internationale troepenmachten die hierin ook schuldig zijn bevonden met hen politieke-corrupties en politieke-maatstavens.

• De beleidskeuzen die uit het tweevoudige doel van DDDD bereikt kunnen worden, kunnen gebruikt worden om de sociabiliteit-positie extra te verdedigen, beschermen, revitaliseren voor het inhoudelijke beargumentering: wie zijn naam kent, kent de ander zijn naam, weet zijn profile, screening, en kent de grenzen van elkaar.

• De stabiliteit en aanvaardbaarheid is dus de officiële doel van de DDDD. Alles daar omtrent kun je daar vinden door op DDDD te klikken.

Japanse bemiddelaars en hen Justitie kunnen met de Franse Justitie unaniem besluiten wanneer ik wel en wat voor werk ik kan doen en of ik daar na een groot leeg gedeelte van een CV ook een passende baan bij kan vinden met gezondheids en leefgarantie moet dus blijken voor mijn huisveiligheid en primaire en secundaire veiligheid waaronder medisch. De trigonometrische resultaten voor Den Haag dienen objectief te worden bevordert om te kijken of de veiligeheid wel gewaarborgt is en zo ja of het up-to-date is en gereviseert wordt.

En de vrijheid van meningsuiting is de beslissende ronde; namelijk wat wel criminaliteit is heb ik bewezen en wat niet is heb ik ook bewezen.

• 68, 57 here taxi, 32, 39, 50, 57blue, 75blue, 10blue, 97, 45, 63, 83, 20, 41-2, 78-4, 46, 41
• 37-6, here 54, 68, 02, 30, 33, 35, 20, 6

Ahora toca a la version en anime de Naruto ya en español en DD/Online

Flashforward, Yeni Lost Mu?

Adam, ters dönmüş bir arabanın içinde uyanır.

Aksayarak dışarı çıkar ve bütün şehrin mahşer yerine dönmüş olduğunu görür.

Dünyadaki herkes tamı tamına 2 Dakika 17 Saniye süren kitlesel bir baygınlık geçirmiştir.

Bu sürede havadaki uçaklar düşmüş, arabalar çarpışmış, pek çok irili ufaklı kaza meydana gelmiştir. Buna bağlı olarak da yüz binlerce ölüm gerçekleşmiştir.

Üstüne üstlük baygınlık anında herkes altı ay sonraki gelecekte kendinin ne yaptığını görmüştür. İnsanların gördüğü hikayeler birbirini tutmaya ve böylesine kitlesel bir baygınlığın tekrarlanmasından korkmaya başlayan uzmanlar “Mozaik” ismini verdikleri araştırmayı başlatırlar.

Peki, bu baygınlığa ve iki dakikalık medyumluğa ne sebep olmuştur?

Uzaylılar mı? Bilimsel bir deney mi? Yoksa Tanrı reset butonuna mı basmıştır?

Yukarıda bahsi geçen konu “abc” kanalının “Flashforward” isimli yeni dizisine ait. Geçenlerde ilk iki bölümünü izleme şansı buldum ve rahatlıkla söyleyebilirim ki Lost’un ayak izlerini neredeyse birebir takip eden bir dizi var karşımızda. Sadece takip etmekle kalmadığını da eklemeliyim. Dizinin daha yedinci dakikası dolmadan bir sahnede arabanın park ettiği bir binanın duvarında “Oceanic Airlines” reklamı görüyoruz. Bu yalnızca Lost’a atıf için kanalın kullandığı bir reklam olabileceği gibi “Flashforward”ın aslında Lost dünyasına paralel bir dizi olduğuna da işaret ediyor olabilir.

Yeni dizimizde de gizemli bir numaramız var: 137. Yani insanların baygın kaldığı 2 dakika 17 saniyedeki toplam saniye sayısı. Neden 137?

Dizinin yeni bölümleri yayınlandıkça yeni bir Lost mu izliyoruz yoksa elimizde zayıf bir taklit mi var göreceğiz ancak bana bu diziye zaman ayırma cesaretini veren; dizinin senaristlik, yönetmenlik ve yapımcılık koltuğunda oturan David. S. Goyer, ki bilenler son işi olan “The Dark Knight”ın senaryosundan kendini hatırlayabilirler.

Dizinin başarısı hakkında yorumda bulunmak için henüz erken olsa da gizem severleri her hafta yeni soru işaretleriyle karşılaşmaları için ekrana (ya da internet başına) çağırmak için erken değil. İleriki bölümlerde tutturduğu çizgiyi korur ve içi doldurulursa, daha şimdiden bazı sitelerde sorulmaya başlamış olan diziyle bağlantılı pek çok sorunun içinde kendimizi kolayca kaybedebiliriz ancak kimse haftada 45 dakikaya hayatın sırrını vermez, bunu da unutmamak gerek.

Dizinin sorguladığı hususlardan bir kaçı; Kaderi değiştirebilir miyiz? Geleceği görebilir miyiz?  Bilinç düzeyinde zaman yolculuğu mümkün mü? Schrödinger’in kedisi ne görmüştü? Geleceği bilmek bizi o geleceğe mi yoksa alternatif bir geleceğe mi taşır? Tüm dünyadaki insanları aynı anda ne etkileyebilir?

Dipnot: Sadece yurtdışında değil ülkemizde de daha şimdiden dizinin hayranları tarafından internet sayfaları açılmaya başlanmış…

Dipnot 2: Lost dizisinin Penny’si(Sonya Walger) ve Charlie’si(Dominic Monaghan) de bu dizide farklı karakterlere hayat veriyorlar.

So, in my last blog, I talked about Kabbalah and the significance of the number 137. In last night’s episode of Flash Forward, we learn of this significance from a former Nazi war criminal, Rudolf Geyer. Geyer is in Quale Prison in Munich, Germany.  He is talking to one of the guards and says that his blackout flash forward will “get him out of this hateful place.” He has sent notice to Mark’s (Fiennes) team that he knows why the blackout occurred and wants to specifically talk to Mark about it. Mark and Janis head to Munich to talk with Geyer (who is now accompanied by his attorney). It seems that Geyer hid in the United States for 20 years, and he has been looking forward to meeting Mark for quite some time (how long I wonder?).  He saw Mark’s name in his vision. He wants to return to America and have all charges against him dropped. He will give Mark the information only in exchange for this. He worked at the Treblinka Death Camp in Poland. Treblinka was known as a camp that was primarily built for extermination. Sounds like Geyer was a pretty bad guy in his day. He offers to give Mark part of his information now as good faith and then the rest after the deal is sealed. He explains to Mark the significance of the 137 sekuden (or 137 seconds) and its association with Kabbalah, shrouded in Jewish mysticism.

In his flash forward, Geyer is repatriated to the United States. He is at an American airport. The customs agent is Jerome Murphy. He says to Jerome that he has a “murder to thank” for his return to America.

The next day Jerome applied for the customs agent job he has in the future after having the same flash forward as Geyer.

Mark agrees to Geyer’s terms and then gets the second part of message. Seems that when Geyer awoke from the blackout he looked out the window and saw dead crows all over the courtyard. Geyer hands Mark a book on birds. Later, Mark learns that crows died all over the world when the blackout occurred. Doing some further checking, it seems there was a blackout in Somalia in the Ganwar Region in 1991 and dead crows were everywhere. Also, CDC doctors traveled to the Ganwar Region in response to claims that the inhabitants suffered mass loss of conciousness.

Other interesting notes:

The White Rose Nazi Resistance were killed at Quale prison. The White Rose (German: die Weiße Rose) was a non-violent/intellectual resistance group in Nazi Germany, consisting of students from the University of Munich and their philosophy professor. The group became known for an anonymous leaflet campaign, lasting from June 1942 until February 1943, that called for active opposition to German dictator Adolf Hitler’s regime.

Demetri (Cho) was told by the caller that an American FBI Agent was murdered by being shot 3 times in the chest.

Demetri’s cell phone call signal came from two sites at once.

Jerome Murphy’s badge number was 3276.

Did Demitri’s fiance really see his face in her flash forward or just a person standing on the beach waiting to marry her?

Did Aaron lie when he said the body exhumed was his daughter?

At the memorial service for the FBI agents, the lady that Olivia was talking to at lunch sees her future son.

10/17/09 – I just posted a couple of new Flash Foward blogs. Here are their links:

http://toyanxiety.wordpress.com/2009/10/17/flash-forward-the-curious-case-of-edward-ned-spoiler-alert/

http://toyanxiety.wordpress.com/2009/10/15/flash-forward-black-swan-theory/

137 Sekunden

Our senile “scientist” turned out to be a mass murderer by the name of Rudolf Geyer, a former Nazi who seems to have the answers to why birds in particular are effected by the blackouts. He claims that in his flashforward, he sees himself talking with a U.S. customs agent and telling him that “murder” has given him freedom, a clever pun since “murder” also means a group of crows.

Geyer tells Mark, the FBI agent, about the number 137 and its Kabbalistic implications. Mark seems frustrated with Geyer and pushes him to reveal more, at which point the Nazi tells him that when he awoke from the blackout, he noticed a dead “murder”, group of crows, in the court yard. Geyer tells Mark that this is all he knows and that this piece of information will lead the FBI agent closer to the truth. For some reason, when Geyer handed Mark a book on birds, it seemed to me like he was hiding something. I have a feeling that this isn’t the last time we see Rudolf Geyer, and that he might even be the main culprit in the story.

Perhaps the most intriguing part of this episode was the cliff-hanger in the end. We see a large structure in Somalia, to which a number of crows flock, with fatal consequence. We also find out that this isn’t the first time a “flashforward” had occurred, in fact it has happened before, once in Ganwar, Somalia, 1991, and each occurrence seems to be accompanied by a sharp dip in worldwide crow population.

So far the writers of the show have done a good job of keeping the story interesting without giving away too many plot elements. At this point, anybody’s guess is as good as mine. What I can tell you however is that several signs seem to point in the direction of a “manipulated” flashforward, instead of a “naturally” occurring one. The Blue Hand, D. Gibbons, Suspect Zero, and the Tower in Somalia, all seem to point in one direction, a group of conspirators who have artificially manufactured the blackout. However some may argue that the blackout has been caused by a naturally occurring phenomenon, and that the Tower is simply a way to detect and monitor this phenomenon.

I took lots of notes while watching Flash Forward tonight. I want to ponder some of what I wrote down, so I leave you with the following explanation of why 137 is significant to Kabbalah.

Read tomorrow’s blog for some interesting spoilers!

Kabbalah: The Union of Wisdom and Prophecy

The numerical value of the word “kabbalah” (קבלה ) in Hebrew is 137. Surprisingly this is one of the most important numbers today in modern physics. As a pure (dimensionless) number it is known as the “inverse of the fine structure constant” and expresses an important property of space related to creation.

137 is also the value of the sum of two very important words that relate to Kabbalah: “wisdom” (חכמה ) equals 73 and “prophecy” (נבואה ) equals 64. Kabbalah can therefore be understood as the union (or “marriage”) of wisdom and prophecy.

Historically, Kabbalah developed out of the prophetic tradition that existed in Judaism up to the second Temple period (beginning in the 4th century BCE). Though the prophetic spirit that had dwelt in the prophets continued to “hover” above the Jewish people, it was no longer manifest directly. Instead, the spirit of wisdom manifested the Divine in the form of the Oral Torah (the oral tradition), the body of Rabbinic knowledge that began developing in the second Temple period and continues to this day. The meeting of wisdom (the mind, intellect) and prophecy (the spirit which still remains) and their union is what produces and defines the essence of Kabbalah.

In the Kabbalistic conceptual scheme, “wisdom” corresponds to the sefirah of wisdom, otherwise known as the “Father” principle (Abba) and “prophecy” corresponds to the sefirah of understanding or the “Mother” principle (Ima). Wisdom and understanding are described in the Zohar as “two companions that never part.” Thus, Kabbalah represents the union of wisdom and prophecy in the collective Jewish soul; whenever we study Kabbalah, the inner wisdom of the Torah, we reveal this union.

It is important to clarify that Kabbalah is not a separate discipline from the traditional study of the Torah, it is rather the Torah’s inner soul (nishmata de’orayta, in the language of the Zohar and the Arizal).

Oftentimes a union of two things is represented in Kabbalah as an acronym composed of their initial letters. In this case, “wisdom” in Hebrew starts with the letter chet “prophecy” begins with the letter nun; so their acronym spells the Hebrew word chen, which means “grace,” in the sense of beauty. Grace in particular refers to symmetric beauty, i.e., the type of beauty that we perceive in symmetry. This observation ties in with the fact that the inner wisdom of the Torah, Kabbalah is referred to as chochmat ha’chen, which we would literally translate as the wisdom of chen. Chen here is an acronym for another two words: concealed wisdom (חכמה נסתרה ). But, following our analysis here, Kabbalah is called chen because it is the union of wisdom and prophecy.

Because it comprises both wisdom and prophecy, Kabbalah, the inner soul of the Torah is best suited to provide us with a vision of the perfected, utopian future that the world will enjoy once the Mashiach is revealed. Studying Kabbalah provides us both at the individual and the collective levels with the consciousness and strength of character needed to envision this future, and work towards it even during the greatest hours of darkness.

10/17/09 – I just posted a couple of new Flash Foward blogs. Here are their links:

http://toyanxiety.wordpress.com/2009/10/17/flash-forward-the-curious-case-of-edward-ned-spoiler-alert/

http://toyanxiety.wordpress.com/2009/10/15/flash-forward-black-swan-theory/

FlashForward

137 seconds. That’s how long the black out lasted. So why 137? Is there a reason? I think there is a perfectly good explanation, which might even unlock some of the main thematic elements of the show.

During the short snippet preluding the third episode of “FlashForward”, a new character appears, a grandpa-looking protoscientist whose been locked up in some kind of a mental institution. I wouldn’t be surprised if his name was “Walter”. This physicist of some kind seems to have an answer for why the “blackout” lasted exactly 137 seconds, and proceeds to hand the FBI agents a book about “Birds.” Birds? What the hell do birds have to do with anything? I’ll explain later, read on.

The number 137 is known in physics as the “fine-structure constant“. Designated as “alpha”, this number contains the fundamentals of electromagnetism, relativity, and quantum mechanics. 137 continues to baffle the scientific community, creating all sorts of problems for quantum theorists.

So what does 137 have to do with “FlashForward”? I believe, based on what we’ve seen so far, that a secret organization found a way to hack “nature’s algorithm”, and therefore manipulate and control the Earth’s electromagnetic fields through “Bio-programming”.

Recall the scene in which the agents tried to apprehend the second suspect in the doll factory. The computer submerged in the water tank  seemed very peculiar, and extremely cool. With “Bio-programming”, perhaps the group is able to manipulate the Earth’s magnetic field, thus expanding or contracting the spacetime fabric.

So now we come to the “Birds” part. It’s well documented that birds contain certain molecules which makes them extremely sensitive to the Earth’s magnetic field. Migratory birds use this “internal compass” to navigate between nesting areas and the wintering grounds.

Perhaps the point which “the scientist” will try and make, is that just like birds, humans have certain characteristics, which when amplified, makes them sensitive to anomalies in the Earth’s magnetic field, making it possible for “bio-programmers” to hack our brains.

Most people who like dance music and are familiar with dance music know about Tiesto. I do. And this was the first Tiesto song I ever heard. And as the genre suggests, it immediately put me into a trance. The bass drum that does not stop once, the whirring cymbals that are so hypnotising, and then of course the melody that hardly changes at all. In fact, it consists of two notes that do not change. But this is what is so attractive about it. The simplicity is such that it could be made by anyone with a laptop in their bedroom. Not to the same standard and expertise of course, but a good attempt could be made.

For me, this is the epitome of dance music. Listening to it, it is impossible to at least resist the temptation to move at least one part of your body in some sort of rhythm. It is contagious and will stick in your head for ages. And again, it’s another song with an instantly recognisable intro. The pure percussion building up to something that is obviously going to be huge. And of course it is. The tune can be sung by anyone and it is pretty ambiguous. By that I mean that you can’t tell if it suits one mood or another. But that’s irrelevant. All you have to do is play this very loud and experience one of the most superior dance songs of all time. And that’s not even debatable.

Listen: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__dH9og7eb8
Follow: http://www.twitter.com/joegbs

It hasn’t been too long since I was in a relationship, so the concept of actually having money in my checking account was alien to me.  I wasn’t sure what to do with this excess of cash just sitting there.  I could save it in case something unforeseen happens to me and I find myself unable to pay my bills.  I could apply it towards something that I need like a new mattress as its possible that the current one is the culprit behind my perpetually sore shoulder. 

            Of course I did not do any of those things.  On Thursday, I drove up to Peoria for work.  While I was there I opted to walk into Best Buy and look at new computers. 

            Will III (the laptop I bought back in 2007) has been going downhill for some time.  In 2008 odd lines—in nearly every color of the rainbow—began appearing on my screen.  After the third one I called Toshiba and discovered I was still under warranty for a week but needed to take my computer to Moline in order to have it serviced.  I spent several hours traversing the great Axis of Boring (Iowa, Illinois and Indiana) to hand off my computer and in a week had it back as good as new.

            It was about a year later that a new line appeared. 

            “Will’s getting kind of old,” I told myself.  I decided to replace him rather than repair him and began budgeting back money for a new computer.  Will must have overheard me; I can think of no other reason for so many things to go wrong with him than that.

            The most annoying problem Will presented during this episode was when he spontaneously decided to cease charging.  The icon in the corner of his monitor indicated that he knew full well that he was plugged in and receiving that alternating current he so desperately craves.  This would result in numerous moments where I would be working, believing all to be fine, and Will would suddenly shut off. 

            Will’s battery life at this point was roughly thirteen minutes and seven seconds.  Without the power cord inserted, keeping him fully charged, he circled the drain fast and unless my eye was constantly kept on the tiny little light in the bottom left hand corner I would never know when such an event was about to strike. 

            Slightly less annoying where the random periods where Will would opt to not play music. 

            All of these things contributed into my walking into Best Buy and being assisted by a freakishly thin guy and not the cute girl with braces (there are apparently people out of their teen years who get braces—who knew!?!).  After checking out Apple’s expensive offerings I decided to stick with a PC and elected to get a Toshiba Satellite A505-S6960 with an Intel Core 2 Duo T6500… whatever that means. 

            I assumed I could write a check, take my computer, and go back to work but… Best Buy had other plans.  Enter: Certegy Check Services, Inc.—a group who decided not to authorize my check for reasons I still fail to understand.  I was given a small piece of paper that had a polite apology for inexplicably inconveniencing me written on it along with a phone number that I could call.  I called, only to have a computer ask me for the check number and amount.  At this point the computer again apologized to me before hanging up.

            “Where’s the nearest Cefcu?” I asked freakishly thin boy, frustrated with Certegy’s opting to strip away the convenience of writing a check.  I’m still struggling to understand what logic dictated such an action: it’s not like I rampantly run through the country spreading bad checks like the plague—I’ve never even bounced a check. 

            I’m not sure what the girl who manned Best Buy’s cell phone department was doing so far from her station but she offered to put Verizon Navigator on my BlackBerry.  “It has it,” I informed her.  “I just don’t like using it.”

“Why?” she asked.

“It sucks?” I offered.  I’m still not sure why she even had to ask.  I think at this point anyone who has ever used Verizon Navigator knows how terrible the program is.  My most infamous argument with my cell phone occurred last May, when I was driving to Three Sister’s Park to witness the Flaming Lips grace the Summer Camp Music Festival.  After following its directions to a ‘T’ my phone proceeded to tell me to drive through a house, over a cliff and across the Illinois River.

There are other great instances where Verizon Navigator routinely tells me to perform an illegal action.  Sometimes I debate doing what it says, simply to test the excuse of, “I’m sorry officer; my cell phone told me to do that…”

Ultimately I proceeded to try to find it on my own and sure enough I did it.  I withdrew $800 from my checking account, got back in my car, and drove back to Best Buy where I gave my cash to freakishly thin kid.  “You came back,” he said with a hint of surprise in his tone.  My mind immediately concocted a scenario where he assumed this was all part of an elaborate check fraud syndicate who use other people’s hard-earned money to buy laptops that they sell on the black market. 

In any case I watched freakishly thin kid examine each bill I gave him one-by-one (in case plan B to my check fraud scheme was printing fake money) and was then handed my new computer, which I now used to post this.  My wallet is now $788.37 lighter but so far Will IV brings me nothing but happiness. 

No, really: the first thing he did when I opened the box was lunge at Will III and give him thirty lashings with his power cord for all the pain he’s brought me.

Fase I – O Portão

Enquanto andava pelas correções gramaticais, as quais insistiam em acusar minhas falhas idiomáticas, até que agora cessaram, era como a janela de Heathcliff. Estava frio lá fora, mas eu queria entrar. Mesmo sem saber ao certo o que tinha dentro da casa, onde estava a porta, eu queria entrar e sentir o calor da lareira e suas brasas e suas faíscas contra o inverno rigoroso.

As paredes da casa eram ásperas, e ainda havia o medo de ficar preso, sem saída, próximo ao fogo da lareira, e vê-lo incendiar toda a montanha.

As ondas, as contas. A cada logaritmo, a cabeça parecia acumular um pouco mais de explosões, um pouco mais de elétrons rebelados, e a noite parecia mais fria que o normal, os ventos pareciam mais fortes que realmente são, as palavras pareciam mais perigosas e dolorosas mesmo sem serem ditas. As ruas vazias angustiavam os pobres entardeceres onde sentia os ecos dos gritos. A prática levava à melhora. A prática levava ao sem nexo.

Try to figure out how waves do the dance
Patterns emerging as moons tick vein clocks,
Outside the window, staring eyes, door knocks
Into nights as my spirit flows in trance.

A prophet opened this mind, spinning glance,
Uncanny integers and stormy locks,
Sand after sand, machine, block after block.
Future past Constellations beyond sense.

Lack of sensations, waltz of obscurity,
Trying, in vain, see how to let it out.
Lines in the sky of all insanities.

Growing inside a seed of sinusoid doubt.
A crack has opened gamma, human kiss,
I try to break the spell and leave the cloud.

Fase II – Fermentação

Uma falha, talvez, na evolução: o que sentimos. Por que sentimos, por quem sentimos. A mais bizarra das invenções da grande obra, do grande plano. Em alguns momentos, os instrumentos deviam ser cessados, e as únicas batidas a serem ouvidas deveriam ser a dos dois corações em ressonância. O sangue correndo no mesmo fluxo, e tudo sem precisar de cálculos, sem precisar de valores.

O ar era suficiente, os pontos luminosos eram suficientes. Creio, até, que nem pensamentos fossem necessários nesses momentos. Algum meio de desligar o cérebro, esquecer do que é a realidade e viver o que verdadeiramente é a realidade.

Que é, no caso, um tanto diferente do que as lascas insistem em dizer ser a realidade.

Complex strings raging silent frequencies,
As thoughts become words, phrases as stumbling swords.
I walk upstairs, world goes without regards.
Despite the cold, Sun still in the axis.

When the nights seem lonely as I would pray,
In seventh hell I could miss the warmth,
Couldn’t see the stars if I won’t look North.
Ratios won’t tell where to look for a Sun ray.

Break of dawn beside the rivers and trees,
No why to eat that outside worms beneath.
Matter of view: see it as really is.

At wall, sometimes have to release belief,
Sail against the coldness of seven seas,
Breathe no sorrows on the top of the cliff.

Fase III – Iluminatti

Outro corte de cena, truque de edição. A árvore ficava cada vez maior e mais ampla, as folhas calmas fazendo seus ruídos devido a todo o vento. A obra de arte toda à minha frente, a maior de todas as obras. O compasso, o esquadro, os moldes, todos eram senão instrumentos mudos, como o piano talvez fosse um outro tipo de instrumento. As contas e as equações apareciam no papel não como uma tradução do que é fechado finito real, não do que é o caminho, não dos padrões. Fazia parte da maior das obras já realizadas pelos micróbios, pelos primatas que acharam a pedra, acharam o fogo e acharam a Lua, que acharam a vida também.

Uma obra indefinida, sem autor preciso, sem tempo de ter começado, sem tempo para terminar, à mercê da vontade apenas daqueles que quiserem escrever um próximo capítulo. Esquecer que o mundo é real e esquecer que esqueceu que o mundo é real. Esquecer dos motivos, e entregar-se apenas ao que está acontecendo.

Alienar-se é uma das sensações mais nobres que podemos sentir. Iludir-se faz com que pedaços pequenos de grandes sonhos materializem-se, e livra também um bom peso da matéria invisível que esmaga o crânio de vez em quando.

É sono, é pesar. E as contas e os expoentes não são o melhor remédio para a enxaqueca. Pensar nas dores não as alivia. Em alguns momentos a janela serve como cinemascope, e, sem preocupações com a verdade ou com os rumos a serem tomados, a vida passa para ser vivida, e não decifrada. Para ser tentada, e não trapaceada.

Não são padrões. Talvez exista algum, de fato. Mas o primeiro respirar, o vermelho que entra pelos olhos, e toda a gama de sensações estranhas que passam com o tempo e voltam depois, que seja o que une as diferentes épocas da humanidade, o que une quem escrevia em pedras e quem escreve em naves espaciais. A imaginação é mais poderosa que qualquer tipo de máquina.

E todas as tais tempestades hão de passar em pouquíssimo tempo, as paranóias passam a dar lugar a outras cadeias, e nada disso é exclusividade. É apenas como ocorre desde as épocas remotas, e é como ocorrerá por muitos e muitos anos enquanto houver um simples ser racional rastejando pelas pedras e pela terra.

Quebra-se o gelo da Era Glacial quando se esquece que está frio.

A glimpse of red started something, somehow.
My eyes, they were not blinded anymore,
Once living, I gave away Pain and Gore.
Once escaped, could turn against the claw.

In a distort of lost melancholia
Found something I have lost long time ago,
Kind of feel wanted ever to re-know,
Stones kept melting frozen schizophrenia.

Unlocked again is this door here to me,
No fear to look outside, nor roll the dices.
Sun strikes, for now I can barely see.

Without looking glasses before we be,
Then discover how life has its own price.
Behold this time how we can melt the ice.

Epílogo: O Ar

E quando sentir-se arrebentando por dentro, sendo triturado por coisas que ao menos estão acontecendo, lembre-se das palavras, lembre-se das grandes obras. Tudo flui e tudo passa, a idéia de infinidade sequer passa pela mais ávida das imaginações. Nada é tão ruim quanto parece, e isso também é clichê. Mas com o tempo as dores passam, o sono passa, o peso passa.

Esse texto todo passa.

Como no décimo terceiro portão, quando a cobra morde a própria cauda o ciclo recomeça. Termina para uns, começa para outros. Outras histórias dão lugar a velhos personagens das novelas que não têm um capítulo final e simplesmente acabam.

É tudo mais simples. Respire o ar. Olhe para a frente. E nevermind.

Sturnella magna  Sturnelle des prés ou sturnelle orientale  /  Eastern Meadowlark  

Essentially an insect-eater, the Eastern Meadowlark also enjoys bugs, grasshoppers, ants and beetles! Although it complements its diet with seeds, it mainly attacks harmful insects. Common in fields and prairies and in somewhat humid habitats where the grass is dense and a rather thick layer of stubble is present, its territory covers the agricultural regions of Québec and the Maritimes. Its wintering range is poorly known because of identification difficulties. It is believed that large flocks of 20 to 300 birds migrate southward, though some flocks remain all year round in the north, along coasts, where it nests and feeds close to saltwater marshes. Its length is 22 to 28 cm.

Essentiellement insectivore, la sturnelle des prés ou orientale se régale de punaises, de sauterelles, de chenilles, de fourmis et de scarabées! Bien qu’elle complète son régime alimentaire par des graines, elle s’attaque principalement aux insectes nuisibles. Commune dans les champs et les prés et dans les habitats un peu humides où l’herbe est dense et où l’on retrouve une couche de chaume assez épaisse, elle a pour territoire les régions agricoles du Québec et des Maritimes. Son aire d’hivernage est mal connue pour cause de difficulté d’identification. On pense qu’elle migre vers le Sud en grands vols de 20 à 300 oiseaux, bien que certains vols demeurent toute l’année dans le Nord, le long des côtes, où elle se nourrit et niche près des marais salants. Elle mesure entre 22 et 28 cm de longueur.

Discreet and solitary, the Yellow-breasted Chat is so named because it is voluble and possesses an extraordinary range of sounds. Found just about everywhere in Québec and the United States, it finds its preferred habitats in forests, thickets, scrubby pastures, and large massed bushes. Its diet is made up essentially of insects, but it also feeds on wild grapes and other small fruits. Its length is 17 to 19 cm.

Discrète et solitaire, la paruline polyglotte est nommée ainsi parce qu’elle est volubile et qu’elle possède un extraordinaire gamme de sons. Présente un peu partout au Québec et aux États-Unis, elle fait des forêts, des fourrés, des pâturages buissonneux et des grands buissons, ses habitats de prédilection. Son régime alimentaire se compose essentiellement d’insectes mais elle se nourrit également de raisins sauvages et d’autres petits fruits. Elle mesure entre 17 et 19 cm de longueur.

Musée de la civilisation,
collection du Séminaire de Québec,
The Birds of America,
John James Audubon,
137/1993.34738

__________

Oporornis agilis  Paruline à gorge grise (femelle et mâle)  /  Connecticut Warbler (female and male)  

É pecado pensar.

Algumas estrofes deveriam ser apenas subliminares, sem tradução… E ainda há quem tente se aventurar por tais campos obscuros, tais cidades amórficas; prédios abandonados aqui, ali, mesmo quando cheios de gente. Não podia olhar, mas olhei. Direto para a caverna…

Das pontas dos dedos dos pés, subindo contra a gravidade pelas pernas, regando todo o corpo, evitando que tudo se esfrie por mais uma noite na neve, sinto quão dolorosos são os efeitos da tão falada Evolução. As línguas; elas dançavam. De seres invisíveis, automatizados na guerrilha da sobrevivência, até ímpares, que conseguem automutilação sem nem ao menos um arranhão na pele. Insetos humanóides que não precisam lutar para respirar, não precisam correr os riscos, e por fim acabam achando o maior dos predadores dentro de si, em algum lugar que nunca conseguimos descobrir onde fica nem aonde vai.

Olhar para uma parede e perceber que é uma parede. A lâmina; é uma parede, apenas uma parede, e você está em seu quarto, com a porta trancada, protegido, ninguém pode fazer mal algum. É o quarto, é a fortaleza. É seu castelo, e nele ninguém pode entrar que você não queira. As paredes são tão maciças. Dentro do quarto você está protegido, ninguém vê. Só você.

Das cordas desafinadas do velho violão que achei n’um dos escombros as músicas ecoam pelas avenidas (sombriamente acompanhadas por uma melodia feita pelos ecos de todas as mentiras que meus tímpanos traduzem como meros ruídos). N’um violão com cordas afinadas elas simplesmente se escondem por dentro da madeira. Ou dentro de mim?

O Sol radiava por cima das nuvens. Por algum motivo, iluminando todo esse Mundo estranho no qual vim parar, O Sol. Dos dias nublados contemplava sua não-existência, com a estranha certeza que um dia vê-lo-ia.

Meus olhos, tão desacostumados, olharam sem piscar por alguns segundos, minha retina ia sendo queimada pouco a pouco, mas para mim era só a luz. Minha visão ia se escurecendo milésimo após milésimo, ciclo de radiação após ciclo de radiação, mas para mim aquele era o pedaço prometido do paraíso. Pela fenda solar fui ficando cego, e mesmo assim nada poderia me fazer parar de olhar.

Uma sacada fria e esfumaçada. Algum relógio devia marcar o tempo certo, embora todos eles estivessem com horários diferentes.

…de cera. Em sua dimensão, o Mundo tinha dois grandes oceanos. Sobrevoava, via seu reflexo longe. Cada vez que se aproximava, os oceanos pareciam querer engolir, vorazes. Era como se houvesse um efeito buraco-negro, toda a luz, de quando em quando, era sugada para os oceanos, todos os tempos, todas as sensações, sentimentos… E nunca ninguém soubera o que de fato havia por baixo das águas. Sequer Möebius saberia como definir.

A criatura criada pelo Criador, então, tinha todo o mundo ao seu deleite, meros prazeres. Deitar-se sobre qualquer dos campos, escalar qualquer montanha. E olhar para os oceanos. Que, quanto mais pareciam perto, mais tentavam dilacerar as asas e o coração do nobre desnorteado.

Em meio a um dos chás rotineiros que a criatura havia preparado em qualquer fogueira, pôs-se a olhar a Lua. E foi comer queijo.

Aqui por perto uns fios desencapados; pude ouvir o universo, ali mesmo pelo fogo. Enquanto o plasma radiava trazendo consigo a foice, eu o encarava, ouvindo as vozes daqueles que distam, e não podia acreditar em meus próprios sentidos… Apesar de saber que tudo era real. Era diferente das alucinações. Ali era real, se eu tocasse o transmissor, sentiria as correntes dos calabouços explodindo por dentro, arremessando minhas vísceras a algum lugar bem longe. Ou apenas torrando tudo e, então, mostrando o carbono essencial.

Pouco a pouco a vista foi escurecendo, como se anoitecesse cada vez mais rápido, eu já não prestava atenção na velocidade das horas há um tempo. Os prédios começaram a se contorcer, mostrando como o concreto virava pedra, como o céu virava breu, as estrelas se apagavam, voltara para a intersecção. Para as imagens das paredes.

Envolto por terra e mais terra, alguns quilômetros abaixo de qualquer superfície, talvez este também seja um dos infernos, outro deles. Não adiantaria caminhar meses, nunca sairia do lugar. Era um ponto infinito num plano infinito, feito de combinações grosseiras de laços de pedra, retângulos e triângulos, focos de luz que passavam como cometas. Alguma coisa mantinha viva todo o superorganismo, mas para mim, era só uma caverna. Procurei os três gregos, talvez eles estivessem por lá… Mas, como já imaginava, não consegui sair do lugar, mesmo correndo até que meu sangue quisesse acidificar.

Da radiação fez-se a luz, e realizei que estava desmaiado nas escadarias da matriz.

Matriz. Tantas imagens ainda inteiras (embora algumas já reduzidas a pó), agora eu posso ver as estrelas, embora ainda pareça frio para mim, aqui é muito mais amistoso e aconchegante que o inferno no qual eu estava até alguns segundos atrás. Não havia neblina nesse dia.

A mãe Gaia começou seu renascimento, a praça já tem suas folhas, na minha imaginação vejo pessoas saindo de paredes, outras conversando do lado de fora da igreja; como se fosse uma ilusão de algum tipo de vida, bem distante, realmente distante. Entorpecida. Lá longe podíamos ver o microchip.

A cabeça serve para atormentar. E nada mais. Algumas vezes, cri que tudo o que se aprendia sobre o cérebro humano ser a razão da evolução era mentira. Porque eu não sentia. Era apenas atormentado pelas sinapses. Vez e vez outra vez. Com interlocuções, ainda forçando as barreiras para tentar rompê-las. Houve eu de perceber muito tarde que aquele material era mais resistente.

Uma molécula
Perdida
No meio
Da Equação.

Que se perdeu
No tempo
Do Abismo.

A vida começava e acabava e acabava antes mesmo de começar. Os lugares eram marcados por tintas invisíveis, e tatuagens eram feitas sem o uso de sequer uma agulha ou coloração. E o ciclo se repetia, mas Eu nunca percebera. Nunca realizara. Apenas queria viver e esquecer que por trás daquilo tudo havia uma verdade (um padrão). A mentira me era agradável, era extasiante. A verdade não.

Com pedras era pisado e arremessado contra as paredes já derrubadas, os reinos caíam para dar lugar a outros. Fusões e fissões, explosões nucleares, reações. Tudo iluminado mesmo quando no ápice da escuridão das noites de inverno.

Eu sentia medo, e logo percebia o quanto isso também era reconfortante. Não havia cultura, não havia competição, era só eu e eu mesmo no profundo silêncio das notas. Acabaria na manhã seguinte, mas naquela noite o Mundo fazia um pouco de sentido.

Um dia as paredes perceberam como estavam derrubadas.

Depois de todo aquele vento, em certas noites de ressaca, conseguimos sentir que há o Sol, mesmo que não no céu que vemos. Apesar das voltas, nos encontramos no mesmo ponto em algum lugar dentro da massa. Algum lugar além da massa, melhor dizendo. Nesse lugar, cheio de datas e lugares que nem existem, tudo o que de verdade somos, todos os segundos, aqueles que foram, aqueles agora, aqueles que ainda serão.
Na forma alienada, na mais alienada delas, encontramos nossa essência, nossa dádiva; nas mais alienadas ilusões, olhamos nos olhos daquilo que realmente somos.

Aquilo de mentira que de verdade a gente quer.

"No próximo passo você perde tudo".

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O RESTO É VERDADE.