" . . . every sense splayed open to the absolute."

Okay, now it is time for a little viewpoint from the "other" side of the theological debate (see #8 below). If you are not so preordained to turn to obscure prayers to assuage your need for some assurance of the divine, then perhaps, for you, you should look in the other direction for something less quaint and archaic but still terribly powerful, a contemplation of YOUR place in the scheme of things. These are just six photos, but they illustrate the absolutely colossal scales of difference that mark our observations, neither end of which, tiny or large, we are truly capable of either comprehending or imagining. Too small, too large, too close, too far for conceptualization.


(http://www.cnn.com/2007/TECH/space/09/25/germs.in.space.ap/index.html?eref=rss_topstories)

Six simple stages, and can we really understand the progression/regression? The reality is no.



And we are the unique inheritors of "grace" in the entire universe? Are you sure?
I would not be, if I were you . . . and I am.



1) atom 2) bacterium 3) man 4) solar system 5) galaxy 6) deep-field universe.

To quote outrageously, and out of context, from an author I enjoy very much, Alastair Reynolds;

"To feel oneself so tiny, so fragile, so losable, was at first spiritually crushing. But, by the same token, this realisation was also strangely liberating: if an individual human existence meant so little, if one's actions were so cosmically irrelevant, then the notion of some absolute moral framework made about as much sense as the universal ether. Measured against the infinite, therefore, people were no more capable of meaningful sin - or meaningful good - than ants, or dust.
Worlds barely registered sin. Suns hardly deigned to notice it. On the scale of solar systems and galaxies, it meant nothing at all. It was like some obscure atomic force that simply petered out on those scales." Alastair Reynolds, Absolution Gap (2003)

So, let us all get a grip on ourselves, shall we?
Leducdor

". . . with the magical power of her mouth."

From time to time it is good to remember to give thanks, each in our own way, for received good fortune and even existence. For those who have no prayer handy with which to give thanks (and face it, just casting your eyes skyward and muttering "Thanks" does not really fit the bill, decidedly lacking elegance), here are two very ancient prayers that are as elegant as one could wish, as well as covering all of anyone's spiritual needs and requests. In the case of the Hymn to the Aten, you will need to substitute your own name for either the Pharoah or the Queen, mentioning as well the name of an opposite-sex person, your mate preferably. In the case of same sex couples, it is wiser to choose an opposite-sex attribute of your partner (as the purpose of your place in the prayer is to uphold the divine stability of the universe as one member of a "complete & complimentary" duality, male and female), or choose someone of the opposite sex who is of primary importance to you. Now let us pray:

HYMN TO THE ATEN

"Thy rising is beautiful in the horizon of heaven, O Aten, ordainer of life. Thou dost shoot up in the horizon of the East, thou fillest every land with thy beneficence. Thou art beautiful and great and sparkling, and exalted above every land.. Thy arrows envelop everywhere all the lands which thou hast made. Thou art as Ra. Thou bringest them according to their number, thou subduest them for thy beloved son. Thou thyself art afar off, but thy beams are upon the earth; thou art in their faces, they admire thy goings. Thou settest in the horizon of the west, the earth is in darkness, in the form of death. Men lie down in a booth wrapped up in cloths, one eye cannot see its fellow. If all their possessions, which are under their heads, be carried away they perceive it not. Every lion emergeth from his lair, all the creeping things bite, darkness a warm retreat. The land is in silence. He who made them hath set in his horizon. The earth becometh light, thou shootest up in the horizon, shining in the Aten in the day, thou scatterest the darkness. Thou sendest out thine arrows, the Two Lands make festival, men wake up, stand upon their feet, it is thou who raisest them up. They wash their members, they take their apparel and array themselves therein, their hands are stretched out in praise at thy rising, throughout the land they do their works. Beasts and cattle of all kinds settle down upon the pastures, shrubs and vegetables flourish, the feathered fowl fly about over their marshes, their feathers praising thy Ka. All the cattle rise up on their legs, creatures that fly and insects of all kinds spring into life, when thou risest up on them. The boats drop down and sail up the river, likewise every road openeth at thy rising, the fish in the river swim towards thy face, thy beams are in the depths of the Great Green. Thou makest offspring to take form in women, creating seed in men. Thou makest the son to live in the womb of his mother, making him to be quiet that he crieth not; thou art a nurse in the womb, giving breath to vivify that which he hath made. When he droppeth from the womb ... on the day of his birth he openeth his mouth in the ordinary manner, thou providest his sustenance. The young bird in the egg speaketh in the shell, thou givest breath to him inside it to make him to live. Thou makest for him his mature form so that he can crack the shell being inside the egg. He cometh forth from the egg, he chirpeth with all his might, when he hath come forth from it, he walketh on his two feet. O how many are the things which thou hast made! They are hidden from the face, O thou One God, like whom there is no other. Thou didst create the earth by thy heart, thou alone existing, men and women, cattle, beasts of every kind that are upon the earth, and that move upon feet, all the creatures that are in the sky and that fly with their wings, the deserts of Syria and Kesh, and the Land of Egypt. Thou settest every person in his place. Thou providest their daily food, every man having the portion allotted to him, thou dost compute the duration of his life. Their tongues are different in speech, their characteristics, and likewise their skins, giving distinguishing marks to the dwellers in foreign lands. Thou makest Hapi in the Tuat, thou bringest it when thou wishest to make mortals to live, inasmuch as thou hast made them for thyself, their Lord who dost support them to the uttermost, O thou Lord of every land, thou shinest upon them, O ATEN of the day, thou great one of majesty. Thou makest the life of all remote lands. Thou settest a Nile in heaven, which cometh down to them. It maketh a flood on the mountains like the Great Green Sea, it maketh to be watered their fields in their villages. How beneficent are thy plans, O Lord of Eternity! A Nile in heaven art thou for the dwellers in the foreign lands, and for all the beasts of the desert that go upon feet. Hapi cometh from the Tuat for the land of Egypt. Thy beams nourish every field; thou risest up and they live, they germinate for thee. Thou makest the Seasons to develop everything that thou hast made: The season of Pert so that they may refresh themselves, and the season Heh in order to taste thee. Thou hast made the heaven which is remote that thou mayest shine therein and look upon everything that thou hast made. Thy being is one, thou shinest among thy creatures as the LIVING ATEN, rising, shining, departing afar off, returning. Thou hast made millions of creations from thy one self, towns and cities, villages, fields, roads and river. Every eye beholdeth thee confronting it. Thou art the Aten of the day at its zenith. At thy departure thine eye ... thou didst create their faces so that thou mightest not see. ... ONE thou didst make ... Thou art in my heart. There is no other who knoweth thee except thy son Nefer-kheperu-Ra Ua-en-Ra. Thou hast made him wise to understand thy plans and thy power. The earth came into being by thy hand, even as thou hast created them. Thou risest, they live; thou settest, they die. As for thee, there is duration of life in thy members, life is in thee. All eyes gaze upon thy beauties until thou settest, when all labours are relinquished. Thou settest in the West, thou risest, making to flourish ... for the King. Every man who standeth on his foot, since thou didst lay the foundation of the earth, thou hast raised up for thy son who came forth from thy body, the King of the South and the North, Living in Truth, Lord of Crowns, Aakhun-Aten, great in the duration of his life, the Royal Wife, great of majesty, Lady of the Two Lands, Nefer-neferu-Aten Nefertiti, living and young for ever and ever."

HYMN TO OSIRIS

"Homage to thee, Osiris, Lord of eternity, King of the Gods, whose names are manifold, whose forms are holy, thou being of hidden form in the temples, whose Ka is holy. Thou art the governor of Tattu, and also the mighty one in Sekhem. Thou art the Lord to whom praises are ascribed in the nome of Ati, thou art the Prince of divine food in Anu. Thou art the Lord who iscommemorated in Maati, the Hidden Soul, the Lord of Qerrt, the Ruler supreme in White Wall. Thou art the Soul of Ra, his own body, and hast thy place of rest in Henensu. Thou art the beneficent one, and art praised in Nart. Thou makest thy soul to be raised up. Thou art the Lord of the Great House in Khemenu. Thou art the mighty one of victories in Shas-hetep, the Lord of eternity, the Governor of Abydos. The path of his throne is in Ta-tcheser. Thy name is established in the mouths of men. Thou art the substance of Two Lands. Thou art Tem, the feeder of Kau, the Governor of the Companies of the gods. Thou art the beneficent Spirit among the spirits. The god of the Celestial Ocean draweth from thee his waters. Thou sendest forth the north wind at eventide, and breath from thy nostrils to the satisfaction of thy heart. Thy heart reneweth its youth, thou producest the.... The stars in the celestial heights are obedient unto thee, and the great doors of the sky open themselves before thee. Thou art he to whom praises are ascribed in the southern heaven, and thanks are given for thee in the northern heaven. The imperishable stars are under thy supervision, and the stars which never set are thy thrones. Offerings appear before thee at the decree of Keb. The Companies of the Gods praise thee, and the gods of the Tuat smell the earth in paying homage to thee. The uttermost parts of the earth bow before thee, and the limits of the skies entreat thee with supplications when they see thee. The holy ones are overcome before thee, and all Egypt offereth thanksgiving unto thee when it meeteth Thy Majesty. Thou art a shining Spirit-Body, the governor of Spirit-Bodies; permanent is thy rank, established is thy rule. Thou art the well-doing Sekhem of the Company of the Gods, gracious is thy face, and beloved by him that seeth it. Thy fear is set in all the lands by reason of thy perfect love, and they cry out to thy name making it the first of names, and all people make offerings to thee. Thou art the lord who art commemorated in heaven and upon earth. Many are the cries which are made to thee at the Uak festival, and with one heart and voice Egypt raiseth cries of joy to thee. Thou art the Great Chief, the first among thy brethren, the Prince of the Company of the Gods, the stablisher of Right and Truth throughout the World, the Son who was set on the great throne of his father Keb. Thou art the beloved of thy mother Nut, the mighty one of valour, who overthrew the Sebau-fiend. Thou didst stand up and smite thine enemy, and set thy fear in thine adversary. Thou dost bring the boundaries of the mountains. Thy heart is fixed, thy legs are set firm. Thou art the heir of Keb and of the sovereignty of the Two Lands. He hath seen his splendours, he hath decreed for him the guidance of the world by thy hand as long as times endure. Thou hast made this earth with thy hand, and the waters, and the winds, and the vegetation, and all the cattle, and all the feathered fowl, and all the fish, and all the creeping things, and all the wild animals therof. The desert is the lawful possession of the son of Nut. The Two Lands are content to crown thee upon the throne of thy father, like Ra. Thou rollest up into the horizon, thou hast set light over the darkness, thou sendest forth air from thy plumes, and thou floodest the Two Lands like the Disk at daybreak. Thy crown penetrateth the height of heaven, thou art the companion of the stars, and the guide of every god. Thou art beneficent in decree and speech, the favoured one of the Great Company of the Gods, and the beloved of the Little Company of the Gods. His sister hath protected him, and hath repulsed the fiends, and turned aside calamities of evil. She uttered the spell with the magical power of her mouth. Her tongue was perfect, and it never halted at a word. Beneficent in command and word was Isis, the woman of magical spells, the advocate of her brother. She sought him untiringly, she wandered round and round about this earth in sorrow, and she alighted not without finding him. She made light with her feathers, she created air with her wings, and she uttered the death wail for her brother. She raised up the inactive members of whose heart was still, she drew from him his essence, she made an heir, she reared the child in loneliness, and the place where he was not known, and he grew in strength and stature, and his hand was mighty in the House of Keb. The Company of the Gods rejoiced, rejoiced, at the coming of Horus, the son of Osiris, whose heart was firm, the triumphant, the son of Isis, the heir of Osiris."

". . . because I have to kill Gilda, too."

"Didn't you hear about me, Gabe? If I'd been a ranch, they would've named me "The Bar Nothing"." Rita Hayworth, Gilda (1946)

It has been a singularly dull week in the news. Oh sure, weird weather patterns, chains of earthquakes in Indonesia, lovingly-tended-corpse stories from Germany and Austria (it's a thing there, don't ask me why), more death and destruction in Iraqhanistan, on and on and on and it never stops. Which is why it is called news, I suppose, but it certainly misses the point that news is supposed to be new. Is it not? On the "local" front, M. le Président Sarkozy is busily pissing off most of the European bureaucrats & politicians with his ". . . but the Emperor is naked !" statements, such as why is the ECB (European Central Bank) catering to speculators instead of investors (they REALLY did not like that one), etc. I still believe he is a demagogue with fascist tendencies ("Don't worry, dear, it's just a phase, he'll grow out of it"), but I must admit that despite a presidential style that cries out for some baroque apotheosizing fanfare by Lully (like Louis XIV and Napoleon, Sarkozy is a very short man with an imperial-sized ego; whether his calves are as well-formed and he dances as well is open to question), he does at least move, let the critics be damned, and wishes France to get off her derrière and DO something with herself, preferably not alone with a marital aide. On verra. Like Gilda in the eponymous film, standing still and just waiting to react is not his style, but he will give it a chance before he moves to Montevideo, gets a job singing in a nightclub and starts divorce proceedings.

On the personal good news front, I was able to reestablish contact with my niece, Adrienne, who lives, works and studies in the USA (her picture is in the column at left). We had drifted apart over the last few years; I moved to France and she is very busy with her chock-full life in America, so the drift was natural, but it is good to be back in contact. I brought her to France once, when she was nine years old, and soon after that she chose Spanish as her language elective, showing, I suppose, that France was all fine and well but really, Uncle, Spanish is more useful. It may have been the visit to Versailles that turned it for her; after the full tour and the dazzling wonders of the place, her one remark was, "No wonder they had a revolution." Out of the mouths of babes. She is a wonderful adult person now (she was a wonderful child, too) and I look forward to communicating with her.

Balin Mundson: "Gilda, are you decent?"
Gilda: "Me? Sure, I'm decent."

I have had two trains of thought predominate this week. The first is the worldwide acceptance of the idea that the computer somehow renders its users anonymous and thus hidden. Nothing could be further from the truth, of course - our computer personæ are full-fledged extensions of ourselves and, as such, can be read as easily by someone with a trained eye as we can be read by (competent) psychologists and psychiatrists. The 'Age of Anonymity' is l-o-n-g gone in the silicone Sargasso Sea of the Internet. We are, perhaps, even more honest about who we are in our various electronic avatars than we would ever dream of being in real life. Take a look at any e-being anywhere you find one (blogs, profiles, virtuals, social networks, etc.) and tell me that you do not get an immediate impression of who that person is and, more importantly, you are fairly sure that you are spot-on about that impression. And no, people do not always put their "best side" out there, we all know that, the Web is not inhabited solely by gleaming goody-two-shoes but by an astonishing array of personalities running the gamut from shoot-them-now psychotic to cloyingly unreal. The Web is amoral. It has no voice of its own, we are its voice, and making the Web your buddy, your partner or your god is as fructifying as masturbation in an interstellar void. "The 1950s lasted a thousand years," according to Neil Gaiman, but things have caught up with a vengeance and those in my age group (the Ferrous Fifties) take it in stride but remember the Dark Ages (Eisenhower), transistor tubes and Flower Power (don't ask, just thank your E-dealer). I love the age we live in but that does not mean that I am not mindful of what has been lost. No, do not worry, I am not going to sing the "In My Day. . ." blues, it was not all that great then anyway, trust me on that. I do not miss anything about that era other than cheap food bills and boundless optimism.

Gilda: "Its stopped raining. Maybe that means something."
Johnny: "You still haven't got over being superstitious. Come on."

The second train of thought has been about recurring dreams. I have one from time to time that involves being aboard a 1950s spaceship that is making a kind of Star Trek-like voyage of exploration plus trading mission to various locales (look at the 'summer job' photo on the left). The crew personnel fluctuate from dream to dream but I am always the "counselor" who is responsible for smooth crew relations and dealing with the "natives". I wonder what it is about certain dream setups that make them useful as repetitive templates to work out our thoughts and feelings, why some of them lend themselves so easily to being templates in the first place. Yes, I have read Jung and know about archetypes, but it is not that, it is rather the consistent need of the mind to place itself in a situation which aptly fits its needs of the moment. The only other recurring dream of note that I can recall (publicly) is from my childhood: giant spiders landed from space, wreaked general havoc on my hometown and eventually ripped the roof off of our house, reached inside and promptly devoured my parents (I had seen 1955's Tarantula, which deeply impressed me). Fairly easy, that one, eh? Decades later, when I saw South Park #608, "Red Hot Catholic Love", I laughed myself sick. If you do not understand the reference, do try and watch the episode, it is priceless. Giant spiders have their uses everywhere, it seems.

Johnny: "Statistics prove there are more women in the world than anything else, except insects."
Gilda: "On that charming observation, I shall go and change for breakfast."

I have another train of thought that I wish to pursue, but as it is on another theme entirely, I shall wait to expound on it at a later date (that is so much easier in French, j'attends pour m'en expliquer). I shall say, however, that we all need to get a grip on our cheap selves when we look at ourselves and the scale of what we call reality. In the meantime, I shall do some research and fact gathering and present the theme in the near future. Oh my, the ship is here, it is time to depart for the next planet. Thank you for doing business with us, please leave a carved monolith so your great-grandchildren recognize us when we swing back by this way.
Leducdor

"42"

"If you don't like what you're doing, you can always pick up your needle and move to another groove!" - Timothy Leary

It has been a singularly uninteresting week for the "wry smile news." Oh, there has been the occasional quirk of the lips over this or that but, on the whole, the last 10 days have not brought much smirking or enlightened disgust. The Larry Craig business has finally died down and no, I did not find it at all entertaining. Smutty, greasily distasteful and embarrassing for Americans at large, this sad story of politics, power and prurience finally petered out amid the gradually dying hoots & catcalls of the media and his fellow sharks who cruised fishbelly-white and dead-eyed in the feeding frenzy.
"3) True or false? You could scour the planet and never find a single heterosexual man wrongly accused of a homosexual act that would plead guilty "in hopes of making it go away." ( Paul Slansky, The Huffington Post 30/08/07)

Turkey elected a new president, Abdullah Gül, who promises to uphold the tradition of laïcité in government in Turkey and not lead his country down the fundamentalist road, even though he and his party believe that is exactly what should happen to Turkey. (His wife, Hayrunisa Gül, wears the most restrictive form of veil by her own choice, so the president tells us.) Thankfully, the Turkish Army is keeping a close eye on this guy (yes, in this case the army is the good guy, go figure). They are not at all amused when someone starts down the islamization road and in the spirit of "we've done it before, we can do it again," keep their coup options open, oiled and available.

Checking up on Iraq, one sees that the Shi'ites have been killing each other on the pilgrimage route to Kerbala, the Sunnis cheer them on because it is less for them to kill, the 1001 Arabian militias are milling about on the landscape like so many disturbed anthills, etc., and George tells us that "the Surge" is working, we just need to give him more time and an endless supply of money. Um hmm. What kind of a name/label is "the Surge," anyway? It sounds like the name of a marital aide or a manoeuvre at a football game. What a festering, suppurating wound this man is on America's ass, which is precisely what he continues to show to the world as the "good" side of the USA. If you aren't weeping at this man's representation of yourself and your country, you are either dead or insane. Someday, if we all last that long, he will be another name with which to evoke an era of unparalleled greed and corruption, like Boss Tweed.

"Put another brick in my hookah, Chow Ming, and fetch me fresh silks. I've soiled myself again." Franklin Pierce, April 6, 1856 (America: The Book, The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, 2004)

From tweed to tellingly tailored silk, the week also saw the 10-year anniversary of the death of the Princess of Wales. The show goes on, I suppose, but really, are we incapable of letting the lady rest in peace? I do not find the house of Windsor all that fascinating with a single exception, her maj the Queen. A bottle of gin, a smallish room with a cozy fire and two armchairs, and she might, just might, crack like a ripe melon and let it rip, which I would dearly love to hear. Her unique viewpoint is unassailable and probably worth hearing. On the other hand, given her pedigree, she may be able to drink her government under the table, rise neatly and precess out of the room, leaving Jeeves to sweep out the rubbish. We are very amused. http://www.gocomics.com/thenewadventuresofqueenvictoria/

Having CNN International as an only (televised) source of English language news, I am subjected as well to their endless blitz of the strangest travel agency/chamber of commerce advertisements I have ever seen. The glorious, civilized, technologized havens of Azerbaijan, Turkmenistan, Serbia, Montenegro, Qatar, The New Better Shiny Republic of Nigeria, you get the idea; fantasy cities and digital havens rising in the deserts and on islands everywhere, and you, too, can participate in these Utopias if you jump on board and tell your banker, "Invest! Invest! Invest!" You have called your banker after disembarking from your Singapore Air flight ("what do you mean, '1st class, sir?' Is there another? Is it better?") to Hong Kong to help celebrate the opening of another of your investments, the We Dislocated 100,000 People Spa & Resort. At whom are all of these elitist, assumptive advertisements aimed? Surely the target audience is far too busy jetting around the globe making deals, skimming profits and limo-whisking (or better, 'coptering) from airport to hotel to airport most of the time to be watching television or, more specifically, advertisements on CNN? Are they broadcasting a kind of economic penis envy to those not rich enough to be too busy to watch this junk? Why do people think this manga-version of their Utopian future is believable or even possible? It is all sheer folly.

It is just a short entry today, as I have to call my banker, take care of some business, and catch a flight to . . . somewhere, I don't exactly remember.
Leducdor