coming through the antichrist

If told you, how your exceeded your limits you’d retort" your crazy" I. Was created by a microchip, and throw you back into oblivion. And you’d start over until you found out the secret, and then? What? How long could you keep a secret? " A secret" yes, that I am Alpha and omega, and even the secret has limits. It destroys itself, if revealed. Back to the future, a future where it reverses the process, and its anti matter --Forward to the past. “But why”? Because that’s all I know. "There is no future, no present, only the past. And now that’s past.

Funny coincidence, Obe. We just rented Back to the Future and are about to start watching it, when I come to see if _____ is going to suffer another do-over. Then I check for poetry and find this.

Side note before we start the movie. The only time travel movies that make sense are the ones where even their skipping all over the timeline is part of the original timeline and doesn’t change anything. But they usually never reach the obvious Conclusion.

Don’t miss it, Obe.

Thanks I will. Its funny, life is full of funny coincedences, enjoy !

You will miss the conclusion on purpose?

Why?

I’ve been wanting to watch Back to the Future again since my “make like beauty” comment. Did it influence this post as well? That hadn’t occurred to me until that Biff spoke the “make like a tree” line.

They’re preparing for the lightning to strike. Gotta go.

Don’t forget the Why?

Ichthus, I wasn’t aware of a conclusion. I will leave it at that, so let’s say it was unintentional. The determinism implicit in any psychic process or event is an a-posterior act of consciousness. An a-priori process is or at least seems to be different, in that, it doesn’t think of events or thoughts as sequentially determined, or even ordered.

The anti-christ, uses christ as a point of departure. Hence it is sequenced and ordered around the concept “Christ”

The Anti Christ of this conceptual makeup is therefore not a spontaneous idea, it depends on christ’s originality.

Determinism, and futility , its derivative as foundation, do not serve Faith well, as the ultimate arbiter of evolution, because, it’s mechanical rigidity can not even account for the accepted rules of evolutionary jump, one that’s based on genetic mutation.
For these reasons, the deterministic Anti christ is a purpose less idea, whose possibility of goal-less ness, is based on an unreasonable de stabilisation of goal oriented processes. A belief in goals of evolution depends on having faith in the process of goal orientation, and an affirmation of faith.
Faith never can be really destabilized, since its a process, whereas a hopeless determinism is only an idea that seems to try to undermine it.
The anti christ is probably negation, so that christ and faith can become arguable, and cognitively understood as a faith based, real entity.

If he comes so,? Will all be innvalidated?not if we merge now. Completely. Pray bretheren for the unborn. For god why we fail? Must it come? Must those limits reach now the point where you can not go back? Where you will not care? Overcome your doubts brothers and sisters, shed your anxcious skin, your futility so as to make them smile become a cricus clown, a hobo, give away everything you have, hide in caves since it was foretold. But it was written, that those that repent now, die now, will not be left behind, but for those others why need god to cause gnashing of teeth? The cruelty of it, with the crowd just respite? Will animals yet to understand and not consume our flesh the way we did our own? With the antichrist’s promise be heeded? Will your beloved pets be able to protect you then?

But oh, it need not be this way coming through, it may as a gross transitionn be only just that?

Can appetites be contolled, the word be kept, or will it be as with ancient damnation : will the evolved destroy evolution? Will the storm destory the clearing? Will the meadow be overgrown with weed? Will the living envy the dead?

Back in ancient maya, 3 came down of the pyramid in the sun worship for brighter reaping : the king and the priest with the hero in the middle. They we’re enrobed and stately. Upon reaching the place of sacrifice, the hero was bent backward his back broken, by the priest: the king then taking his dagger, plunged it into his bosom, while living, removing the heart, which they offered to the god of the sun. The king then after the offering , devoured it with relish to give him the courage.

“Why call it past when it has not even passed?”–a Faulkner character.

I meant it in a determined way, when things are bult in, and are meant to happen.  Don't ask me why, just a hunch. The intercession, through divine providence is the only way to stop it.

A faulkner character Bengy, shows this determinism, and funny you should mention faulkner, because just read him. Benjy’s disability is an objective view of determinism, which does not forclose the subjective sense of it.

The inversion was like a slap
Stop it! Somehow: don’t u know, don’t you know it don’t matter? That the most complex in the simplest but not for lack of? Limits? Po ooh?
Certain warmonging elements, put everything on,
Use hyperbole, and deception, but isn’t that the ritz?
And what if? Get lost in the grinder, dissolved powerless, and emerging whence, can read you,
Fear and trembling, with admittedly reserved steadfast,

And the love that exists with spirits, through word only, and motion of breath said, the symbol, high,
Of which as in automatic writing. Coming?
But don’t hurt us. You were once. Of us,
Once.

She came and went non pleased. Seemingly to weather the storm. Into her igloo. Locking herself. Could hear the whistling wind, the cold snap. "What if I die here inside and nobody knew. But of course everyone knows, even the embarrassed ones. She would hide in her corner, sometimes she would not divulge a thing, and try to hide the mark.

And when he has come, well, take comfort. No one will be around previously known, or no one after. It will sadly be just another chapter, and a lot of “I told you so’s”. With that closing her eyes, and the woman of the dunes knew, another day would come, without any sign of irregularity, things as usual. She will never be known as by her, and hunted, hunting for seals, is her only respite. Her drunk husband asleep, beside her, her only time of peaceful solitude.

Now must get up and take kids to school, and don’t be amiss today, sit down somewhere quiet, and let it be.

Coming through, he said. The birthday party was held in the castle high above a hill somewhere in europe. The castle was hidden in a shroud of grey mist.

It was a strenuous climb heart beating, and she held his hand, but like a child. He felt powerless to support her, her incessant childish questions irked him.

 Where were you before nevers? She asked in wide eyed tantalisingly?  

Before that? I was in cherbourg. He was just thinking of the films hiroshima mon amour and umbrellas of cherbourg.  

 Where are we going now? She asked, how long until we get to the top?

 Visions of mr. Hyde came to his mind, visions where the monster was being chased down the mountain side by peasants with pitchforks, led by packs of barking dogs, the night sparked as fire flies, as the peasants loudly ran after him with the torches illuminating a middle ages scenario in their anxious faces.

 But suddenly she turned serious, which he knew was a cover for fear.  But what's going on at the castle?

      Why its a birthday party.  And he thought, of why the old lady knew of it?  And she said she knew it was trent's birthday party, but when he asked mathew , trent's dad about it, he said it was another boys birthday.  

      She was relentless:  but I know it was trent's birthday party.  And then he thought, how come her mom knew about the list of things to bring to the birthday party, when she never ever went to the castle, and he was the last person supposedly to be there and to talk with matthew, or anyone at the castle for that matter?

   Could it be that matthew used this as a deliberate ploy, to show how really pitifully excluded he was from the castle's inner sanctum? 

   But this would seem to imply, that the very trust he sought sorely to establish, was being undermined, his source of fear of entering the castle being enhanced, rather then waned?. Was matthew pretending to be his friend, just to seed it with doubt?. That matthew knew him to be able to recognise him very easily was only a pretense?  Did this add the insult  of openly down playing his comprehension to others up there, ? 

His train of though was interrupted by a vicious notion, that seemed to come from nowhere. And it was the conscious thought,that it was her mother who too was similarly involved… But then how come she entrusted esther to him? to take to the birthday party?. She certainly trusted Matthew on all accounts.

 It seemed to him, certain limits of comprehension were being approached, the limits of which were probably based on primal logic's entrance gate to the castle:as such , will they open the gates, or close them.  Esther of course would be admitted with someone else. But beyond that, he felt that they may open the front gate, but then the inner sanctum may be denied him, where esther was expected for the birthday party.

 He was reluctant to approach these limits, for fear of being either indescirnable,in which case, even the front gate will remain closed, or, recognised, in which case the inner sanctum will forever be closed.

How can he remain recognisable anonymously? To be or not? That is a question. But he has to work it.

Her childish ways were tantalising, yet he needed to let her know. But how could he without breaking her child’s heart, and hence his own?

And whence they all know, that he was excluded from the front gate, what else is there? The wearing of the scarlet letter is old by now, but if need be will wear it with a distasteful pride,hoping someone will catch the relief, comic rather then orgasmic,? But then, he may only attend the birthday party as a gloomy outsider, a shadowy character, going through the motions of celebration.

Are there alternatives? They may put an end to the childish trust esther developed for him, and rightfully so. So with these disturbing thoughts they climbed higher. Swans dutifully swam the lakes. Operatic themes recurred ending with a dissonance of fragrant possibility.

 He remembered Sundays and cybele, from a time when he lived in movies, and cybele was like esther. And he was not able to clear it up, he could not or wasn't able to differentiate them as individuals. He wanted the mystical connexion, to prove the participation mystique  he sought to die, as khrishnamurti recommended he should, and hence be able to have the door to the inner sanctum opened to him, as he drew near their limits.  The limits  previously indescribable,  now had  cybele and esther, of damian as oedipus, becoming discerning,  not unlike Dali's grappling with his paranoid alter ego.  If it wasn't for his image of her, surely, his metamorphor of  narcissus would have not been even a glint of an image.  Gaia was more than perspiration, or inspiration,but oh God, she so depended on him, esther, cybele, gaia, the birth so painful.. Esther was the last to go to their birthday party.

 The castle was still a castle, but a tragedy destroyed a Lot of it. He thought to himself, that he could put on a disguise, to get in, but then again, he remebered it was not a masked ball, only a birthday party..  His disguise was just another  part he had to take on..  Most don't do this,he thought.. Most go in a disguise they assume is real.  For him knowing his own artificiality, helped to gain access to the inner sanctum, of not fearing his break up into parts because he always acted as though they were already broken up.(But the fact of which, sorrily, conspiratorially being much too evident to all)  The inner sanctum only opened,where he could break, like esther, the girl like woman. She knew instinctively.  This threw him.

He knew of the lamb,(not at all ambiguous) in the inner sanctum, and he knew of the sacrifice therein, before the birthday party, but he didn’t consciously act on them. It seemed it was just meant to happen. Who sacrificed whom? And then who to take the fall? Then what of dali’s ideal? Can one call upon that? His crucifixion of gaia? Was it all out of the range of having been recognised? He was so blond, crazy billie so afraid of the woolf. And she begged for him not to kill him. The only possible way out of this, is getting in touch with Matthew. But he hardly knew him, and besides where did he reside in the castle? He may never find him, and perhaps he was destined as such…

  Magic doesn't depend on anyone particular, despite einstein's analogous claim that for someone to perceive reality, there need be a conscious receptor.  Magic is turning into a flower, and not necessarily a an evil one..  There need not be sacrifice to attain a transformation, because if there is, then many too would rather, turn into a lamb. 


   It is not matthew or esther or gaia anymore.it does not matter if it's really Colton's birthday  .  We must be able to act, as if though it never happened, because, the debt is un curable.  It is an un curable debt to pass on, because its rite of passage is blocked, by the flower.  The party is ongoing. The music the laughter from inside the towers. Turrets with banners flowing slice the clouds.  Below, a classical grey, but astonishing fog.

 The road narrows, and it has become clear to him, if he has it wrong.  He is inside the sanctum, and he is trying to get out.  He can only gain exit by the touch, and he must again down a disguise, a disguise he fears, again, he will be entrapped in, forgetting  if it's is an entrance or an exist, and not knowing whether it is the outside or inside he will be in , or in the chamber in between.

 He loves esther with all his heart, cybele and gaia are there too, and the minute he seeks them they disappear into the inner sanctum. Matthew loves me he thinks, as much with his mind. But also.  And it will be a sort of vindication, and it must happen, unless the transfiguration takes place versus death. 

And even then. It’s surmountable. it’s defensiveness enhances the breakup, which is a living death, and where the inner sanctum becons. The latest gear: be attached to them peripherally, and transform your contingent illusion into their fantasy of their very reality. The no exit sign dims. Your’re in&out. The price? Never but never be you.
The debt: the love imposed.

I love Matthew by his imposition. It’s an endearing effrontery, and I am torn, about not being at colton’s birthday, or, even knowing really,if it was his birthday, and not someon else’s.

It was convenient for genet to be in prison, literally and figuratively as in his mind, and have it out, in private dreams, I think,had it not been for his contraint self imposed or not, he may have been capable of even more acts of fetish. His love was more self imposed, his salvation came from a sense of propriety, a modest act.

Who he was was measured by how love as knowleddge, reflected back into his face as knowledge as love, but not his.

The debt repaid only with an emperror with no clothes, so all can save face. But that’s still debt, or karma, or whatever.

The space between the outside gate and the inner sanctum was shrninking at an alarming rate, knowing that a decision was imminent. But not until he could figure out which way. Probably left.

 It matters not if esther mentions Lot in another sense in esther 3:7 , under the guise of a gamble, rather than one of finding cover. ? One is from babylon, the other old persia and the third old israel, where she as Xerxes wife took up the lot.

Say where is the cure? Is there an antidote? What is love? I have the painting of Chatterton lying on a bed through a window, see eternity there? In his soul that captured the brush, the palette? I am he and he is he----can you feel the transcendent, of it, the aesthetic unity of immediate? How can it ever end? It never does because its always an aesthetic distance which connects our souls, I deny myself in order to see that the immediacy of the energy which binds my doubt to a physical reality is the closest to name this love. It’s not in the numbers, the affiliation, the redemptions, but nature itself embraces the very effects of it’s energies which is in itself, through suffers, and calls through its myriad mornings he borne anew un knowing itself, can you hear me? Hear him, who is I who is you,no matter how far in time you go back can find in another once, you held through breaths desire of a moment, when you looked down, on me, and realised you are: all yet singularly you. This is the cure, the fire against the icy look, of the anti christ.

Just found out, no lie that the book of Esther pretty much foreshadows the book or Revelation and Daniel.

I got to Esther via Lot, and to lot, then to Esther from throwing lots.

I am placing a bet that the Bible is not totally irrelevant"

Those that can’t" learn from history, are condemned to repeat it.

Most of us go around uneffected, unaware, go about our business as usual, take things for granted, and one day wake up, that in a minute, our whole, accustomed world has suddenly changed.

We deny change, the rushing passage of time, the importance of being earnest, instead, we indulge in trifles. We discredit the the ancient wisdom for the current fashion, and throw caution to the wind.

When it happens, we will never know it, but only if we repent.

It can be only a hearbeat away, but how many lives have we lived? How many faces, places been? How many ways could we have seen?

How many trails traveled, how many deaths on how many worlds?

How much time left? For those that believe, an eternity.

The ideal had its flower and went but not without the promise". The anti ideal has come but it’s flower has not appeared. Most need to see. So it has to appear. Even if needs be, invented so as to appease, and save. The redundancy again shows its vastly strengths as the running down of time its entropic enemy, but so easy: by changing their colours, suit for the occasion. A must do, a no brainer, it can never stop, so it has to.

Need to distinguish: why are people leaving? Distinguish what? Reality from illusion? Who you are from who I think you think you are? Or simply who you think you are from who I think? Is it toward more solidarity or more fearful alienation, slide this time? Are the gross and subtle now as were long ago very long ago in its earliest? And is it a comfort to know we cannot again go through it only by an imposed but weakened constitution? No dependent and emasculated, a technological aphorism, is this possible now? Is feared, the insanity singularly undefinable loss more then of the war that millions lives bled,

Is its insurmountable greed able to cover except places of shame or is it in its heart, of darkness that all forgiven?

The happy need not fear, even that of death’s travail, but who are the happy but those can love.

What love is, the kernel, the enigma, of compression, the unknowable, where the soulless even pause. But now, it’s no more a symbol, but its shadow. It’s encoded but not on papyrus. It’s able to forgive itself it’s able to de differentiate the spectator from the spectacle by being part of it. Its in the wind, and written with invisible ink.

But as a whisper, an unnoticed event, a breezy faux template into the whirlwind of an unforgettable past reassembled by cues. Do those still, believe?

News item: to the anti christ:::you propagate limits, you fool, well and knowing that limits are only appearant, have you heard of the Mobious strip? So does that mean we are saved? Does it mean that it’s all forgotten, or,for that matter,forgiven?

Honestly, who knows about that little detail, you could fly that by me and I wouldn’t pick up on it.

So does that mean we can’t ever get behind liebniz’s folly?

Of course we can said Voltair and rousseau. But it’s either sheer magic, or madness that is.

Well, what about Hamlet?

He was norwegian or something. A brewing kind of fellow. Very strange.

Its the home to Sibelius, and don’t forget Ibsen. Ibsen! Yes and grieg. And wasn’t heroin norwegian too? Where?

Well, the flying dutchman. A viking princess. Yeah, yeah, probably a faux princess, not by any real standards.

Standard, shmandars. Good riddance. You are suffering I can tell.

Yes by delusions., of an aesthetic intent don’t forget.

And I won’t you crazy hungarian, you idiot?

Where does that come from?

From shaw, of course–pygmaiion, or rather my fair lady----trying to make silk purses are you?

I don’t need one no money.

But the trip is still on.

You mean the acid one?

No, the real on london to istanbul. By hook or by crook. No telling if they let you get to the top of the minaret you may do likewise as rimbaud prostate to rising sun. And find a tale.well maybe a small part of one from getting you to un board.

Un bored? The train?

No, as in not being bored.

I know why japhy rider didn’t write a forward. It’s because it’s against his policy. To accede to such demands. You are a very naughty and brash dilettante, in addition to looking like a very bad copy of a dandy. A riot as matter of fact.

Then how do you think you know anything about the comeback?

We’ve gone over that so many times its not funny estregon. Give it up.

But it is coming back as we speak. It is. I am back.do you see me?

I do but you don’t see your self.

No mirror in the world could do justice, only an intelligent one as in the seeping beauty.

Well, then you are All asleep. Good night.

And then it’s the next day and nothing has changed, and they see through it, and the world is still as a comfortable shoe. And still, hear? We still, never know each other, because we are still, just as that day, as seeing you in the park. This may be important, cause having not seen you, maybe till this eternity is over and ready for another, all the chance we get. It’s so odd!------

To george Lukacs and jozsef Attilla.

Issues: isn’t a good starting point to try to learn (or) relearn philosophy from the point of view of issues or problems? Even if starting from a very opaque point of view, and try to ascend into somewhat of a clarity? The issue of relevance comes to mind, of the relationship of psychological factors to philosophical notions, to explore any congruence or even derivation, going backwards or forwards, as to what degree such relevance may work toward. A “solution”? How does the anti christ concept tie in to the idea of redemption, is one such an idea to look into.