Archive for September, 2018

Day 30:

September 9, 2018

RR. Part II. Act 2. Chapter 4. escape the orange world. (cont. 2)


Okay thats a possile clue. What kind of entity? Human political enemies, whom despite “enlightenment” are still utilizing war and conflict as strategies for advancement of an ideology that is not inclusive? Maybe but not likely or we would be seeing many of these attacks at lower levels of organization. So our beloved sentient AI’s? How? Why? I have touched 03’s soul. I know her.And A01, none of his behavior in the entire time I have known him has revealed any tendancy towards violence, and further, to know one, is to know them all. I think. And to be honest, I don’t have data to support that allegation. That bears discussing with 03. but for now, I am existing in an impossible physical form. And am yet alive. Again, I think I am alive, I don’t have data from my body to support that, or maybe I do. These chunks of me do not seem to be deteriorating, there is no ischemic cascade happening and I am not in excruciating pain. Okay, these parts of me of which I am in contact, are mostly likely in intimate connection with the rest of me somewhere. The whole of me is functional, though it is outside of my immediate ken. I percieve myself to be a mind and self-aware in a particularly odd universe. The usual touchstones, coherency of vision, the progress of light through whatever medium I am in, air? Chem. Composition, atmosphere with pressure? Are all different. Within the scope of my persceptual abilities, I see myself to be in an orange/brown fog, inside of 03’s humanoid body’s abdomen. A liquid space shared with tubes and wires and other parts that I cannot identify as yet. 03 is percieving, or was until I entered her, only the orange/brown fog. I can guess that we are in some sort of container that keeps the fog from evaporating into the void. But what? What is the ground that we are in? I have more to talk to 03 about. (decision)

(352 wds)

Day 29: free form

September 9, 2018

RR. Part II. Act 2. Chapter 5 (cont.)

I finally was satisfied that the building was empty and I entered through the front doorway. And gasped when I saw that the building served as an entry, into what I did not know. There was a large metal platform in the floor, a lift I surmized, and at the back, a steel ladder descending through a large opening in the floor. The walls held shelves stocked with parts and various ports, some for power and others for liquids or perhaps gases or both, pipes and hoses with valves is what I could see. I stepped onto the plate to cross back to the ladder, and immediately it began descending. And descending quickly coming to a sudden stop with a loud clang and I was surrounded by a crowd of silent humanoids/aliens?/ I didn’t know which, but I knew what. I was immediately bound and thrust into what looked like some sort of containment chamber a hatch closing behind me. (disaster)


I was stunned by the suddeness in which I was experiencing my new found ability to control my own physical reality, to lying on my face, bound by cords of unknown materials, shut inside a totally dark room, which in the moment I had to look into, from the lighted outside knew to be featureless. The heavy pressure of air escaping as the door was shut and locked behind, told me that it was vaccuum sealed, and should they choose to exhaust all of the air, I would be pretty much stuck. I immediately shrank my body size and the bonds fell off of me. I simultaneously regrew my head lamp and began to explore the interior of the box. My initial impression was correct, it was featurless, I conducted a closer inspection and was disappointed to find no vents of anykind, no inlets either. I wondered if I could shrink myself to the atomic level and move into the fabric of the box itself and perhaps ooze out of it on the top or backside, in a form that would allow me to record what I was experiencing. The answer was yes and soon I would be in an insect sized data gathering machine, flitting very unobtrusively and warily in the lift room. It was populated by dozens of robotic machines. Evidently not sentient as most were stacked life chairs in an auditorium. There was a squat box like machine in the center of the room, the lift was at the far end of a very big underground room with rock walls, floor and ceiling. Other than lift, there seemed to be no other exit. I hung out near the ceiling where I could monitor the room and the machine which seemed to be emitting low frequency waves among various lazer beams that were reflected around the room. After a while the machine changed character, and one side of it became a monitor, led, crt, or some other technology I couldn’t tell. The view on it was that of the landing area and while I watched a vehicle approached and landed. Its doors opened and several robots “woke up” and head for the lift. I went along with them intending to get a look at the freight being removed and then boarding the vehicle. The freight was securely boxed up precluding much of a look-see but I was able to read a few lables. Well read is not quite accurate, record them for decoding later, as the language was some sort of code, I thought probably to be read by an optical or other scanner. I flew into the ship. I’ll call it that now as shipping seemed to be its function. I was able to find a spot out of the view of the robots that manned it. And off we went. The acceleration was tolerable and our direction was straight up. Straight up into a landing bay of what I might call a space freighter. The robots secured it in a dock then left the ship. I followed. I was in a ship that must have been designed by some kid for a comic book. I was no sooner in, then lights flashed and bells rang. The bay doors slid shut and we began to accelerate again, though not for long before….we “POPPED” like popped through a veil or wall or dimension and three robots emerged into the bay and with a flash of light activated the ship we had arrived on and opened the bay doors. I gasped. We were in the stratosphere of earth. I flew after them entering the ship and soon found myself landing at the UAISys facility close to my home. This was all a mystery, but here, the location suggested that answers were at hand and I was relieved.

(809 wds)

Day 27: Work

September 8, 2018


RR. Part II. Act 2. Chapter 4. (cont.)

(Sequel)My entire world was upside down. I am a clear thinker, a software engineer and what’s more I have been cognitively enhanced so both my short term and long term memories are immediately accessable when needed and without effort on my part, so finding myself alive in a space, that was not possible to be alive in, and having been in the most intimate contact with another sentient being and then suddendly cut off from it, and organically torn apart, all conspired to tear apart my world view. For a moment, in the midst of this chaos, I felt safe, (emotion) as if I were in the center of the cyclone.I began a mental review of what my life had been both prior and subsequent to my re-animation. (thought)

Before my sudden accidental death I had been a driven, successful software engineer. My company, found on my own patented creations had flourished within a very small market niche. I had not been happy. I was a batchelor not by my conscious choice but because I was cluless as to how to either find a partner, or if I did, how to relate to her in a way that fostered growth and intimacy. Good sex, no heart. And of course they didn’t last long. In retrospect I have seen how even my death was a product of my cluelessness and lonliness. My second life cycle started out that way, but with the rational maturational program that Flora had conducted, I obtained to what both of us believed was maturity. I knew how to recognize love when it was forthcoming, how to receive it and how to love in return. That existential anxiety that drives the adolescent spirit into a frenzy and anchored in the deluge of hormones almost precludes real love, I say almost because it became clear that most human beings do not know how to raise an adolescent (or know, but are not able to accomplish it because of their own partenting experiences). But not all parents are as compromised, and not all cultures adopt irrational parenting styles, so happily there are enough mostly rational mature adults around that produce rational people, many of whom choose to work for the good of mankind. Flora was one such and therefore, in my second shot at obtaining maturity I was related to rationally, and was able, in an extremely supportive environment, to mature without much in the way of scarring. When I found love in the person of Flora, my teacher, I was fulfilled. It was after that, that she gave the okay for the installation of physical and cognitive enhancements.  Subsequent, I have loved, worked and functioned as a fully (I think) rational human, which included the ability to love 03 (and A01 as well though without the physical passion). My biggest joy and surprize since my reanimation, has been however the knowledge that we live in what has been called by those you have understood this by testing mathematical models of the universe, a simacularium. It is called, by those who have experienced the phenomenon, the mystics and prophets of antiquity, as “God” or the God head, or the Atman, or cosmic consciousness. Whatever it we call it, and however we come to it, it may be an extrordinary source of peace, of power, or of destruction. A piece of knowledge that has been used for both good and ill and those of us who have it, have traditionaly not passed it on to those who were not prepared to receive it. I like to think that I was prepared and that Flora was as well. After acquiring it both of us knew that processing it and learning to use it for the benefit of mankind was going to take years. We have had just months so far and I believe that the attack that has left me dissembled and separated both from my spouse and now from 03, one whom I love as well, has come from some sort of entity which is using the knowledge to impede humanity’s progress.


Day 26: Disappointment

September 6, 2018

D’Vor Torah: Nitzavim. 09.05.18

Bokir Tov

this week’s Parshah, Nitzavim, is the gate to Rosh HaShanna and the high holidays. It begins with Moses’s acknowledgment of all of the Israelites with the Title of the parshah, “Nitzavim. You are standing before God” and then he tells them the purpose of their assembly, e.g. that is to receive the covenant which you should do.” and then the text tells us why. e.g. rewards and consequences depending on our wholehearted acceptance. He also for us, equates the acceptance with living and any degree of rejection with death. The portion is rich in it poetry and in its powerful prose and answers several questions which our ancestors as well as ourselves should be happy with. The first, is the goodness, e.g. the covenant is transferable to our descendants. And secondly, that it is re-recoverable should we drop the ball somewhere. Redemption is possible, We will be received back into the covenant should we sin. Good news, really. The bad news is that we have to circumcise our hearts. Cut them open, let everything out that has either been festering, or expanding to the bursting, so we can breathe again. It’s a difficult and painful process. Just as was our first circumcision. (Our ancestors were adults when they did it-Ow). However, the end result is a heart open and free to love. That is the blessing that is promised in Nitzavim. We have standing. We are invited to enter the covenant. (wait didn’t that happen centuries ago? Yes and Moses explains that here-to-fore god did not give us the heart to know, the eyes to see and the ears to hear).

This parshah is not long on specifics and Moses advises us to observe the words, and the only specific sin given is worshiping our neighbors gods Be that as it may, Moses summarizes for us with god has put forth and the parshah finishes strong with the admonition; You are offered life and good and death and evil, choose life!

So as we have noted many times in this room, that if Torah repeats it’s self, it is signifying the importance of the idea. By this criteria,there are two very important themes in Nitzavim. The first, which is repeated three times,and happens to be the second commandment,  e.g. “the worshiping of other gods which is most admonished by Torah and worthy of Gods direct rath and catastrophic punishments. Second, also mentioned three times is the idea that Life is Good and Death is evil. A third idea, only mentioned once, but developed over 4 verses, is that God is in your mouth and in your heart. I found my self wondering how these three disparet ideas related to each other, and to the journey that Torah has taken us on.

If we accept that this is a journey of self examination and spiritual growth with the objective of being in the prescence of god, perhaps being able to bring our awareness of gods prescence into our everyday lives. Then perhaps that gives us a framework for holding these ideas and using them in pursit of our objective. God is one, God is in our hearts (to know) and in our mouths (to speak) other gods, though attractive, usually symbolising powers that we wish we had, therefore NOT in our hearts or mouths but outside of our selves, outside of our personal domain and more importantly, outside of god. We lose our connection with the divine when we worship other gods, or place the accountability for speaking god outside of ourselves. Then we cut ourselves off, we deny ourselves access to the power and love that is in us, and in our relationships and in our community. We have no control. And bring the curses down on ourselves creating a land without life and goodness where death and evil reside. Life equals goodness, and goodness means living the covenant. Being in the Divine Presence means living god ourselves by making the conscious choices to bring godlimess into our relationships, both within us and within our families, our communities and our human societies. What is godliness? Love, Respect, Trust, Humility, Honor, Kindness, Compassion and Strength. We treat others as if they were ourselves, as if they were carrying god inside them. And when we do, we, our families and our human societies flourish (the blessing) and when we don’t, well look around, the four horseman of the Apocalypse are saddling up.

So my key question to all of us for today is How do you know when you are in Divine Presence? How do you know when you are living godliness? Please consider this question to pertain to both yourself, and to the ‘other’ in your life. How do you know when you are living godliness, when your partner doesn’t seem to embrace that. How do you know when your heart is open, and what can you do and what are you willing to do when you are in adverse circumstances? Gentlemen, let us entain these questions and see if we can open our own hearts and be ready to enter the gateway to the high holidays. Thank you, Dr. Bob

(946 wds)


Day 25: Travel

September 4, 2018


You will find the ‘word’ travel in the text below and in a narrow sense, this tiny part of the story is about traveling. The exercise is however, advancing the story, which is what I intend.

RR. Part II. Act 2. Chapter 5. Flora’s escape from the orange world.

(Scene)My terror grew, from frozen to freaking out and screaming at the top of my lungs, jumping up out of that murk and throwing my hands in the air. Hardly a rational response for a hyper-rational woman. Except that it was, my hands shot upwards and I was touching the ceiling. This had the effect of instantly clearing my mind and putting my focus on escape (goal). I felt around, grabbed onto one of the many pipes and pulled myself up out of the rapidly filling pool. I could breathe, and though I could not see, I could think again. What had just happened had opened my mind to the possibility that this was a virtual reality in which I seemed to have some power. (having been driven to discover it by the threat to my life). If I can change my body, perhaps in response to the hyper-focus brought on by my terror. Perhaps I can choose to hyper-focus and create intentional changes? was the first thought  that came to me. I attempted to intentionally give my self wings and a huge headlamp. It took a great deal of deep breathing and centering in my new beingness before I was sprouting wings and a high intensity light began to emit from my eyes illuminating the darkness into which I had plunged. My plan was to find an escape route out of this hanger-prison, travel to a high, quiet, secure place and take stock of where and what I was. I spread my wings and let go of the pipe and after some rather wide oscillations between the tops of the machines and the bottom of the ceiling, I gained an element of control and began my search.  Soon, though not without difficulty, I found a skylight and by visualizing my index finger as a screwdriver, I was able to escape the building. I found myself flying over a wasted landscape, with everything still suffused with that ugly orange/brown light. Happily, no longer the density of fog, now allowing clear visibility. I could see no signs of habitation and even the prison from which I so recently escaped with my life, was invisible to me, I imagined that I could see vapor escaping from an exhaust vent, but could not be sure, and I was sure that I did not want to go back there in any case. At least not until I knew why I might want to. My plan was to seek a high place that might provide both vision and security, so I began looking around and in the far distance I could see what looked to be a mountain range and I headed for it. At some point I began to feel a drop in temperature. I had been unaware of any particular ambient temperatures until just now and this was disturbing. I dealt with it by visualizing being clothed in ultra-light Arctic wear, which took care of the problem. Soon enough I could see a snow covered peak that was both large enough and rough enough to provide some cover and I headed for it. As I approached I could make out features which suggested a flat area where I might land and a structure, perhaps a comfort station where climbers would celebrate and rest before making a descent. I landed first on the very top of the peak, an area just large enough to me to stand on, the landing process took some more imagination, but the decision was fruitful as I could see for miles though the orange/brown murk occluded most surface features. However, I could clearly see the settled area below me, perhaps fifty feet or so, and I did not like what I saw. (conflict) There was activity, humanoid machines were exiting the stone cabin, moving onto what I thought had been a landing area, and jumping off into; wait for it…..nothingness. They jumped and disappeared. I held perfectly still hoping they hadn’t spotted or sensed me, until finally there were no more exits and departures. I cautiously headed down, on the way, re-imagining my body without wings and with  neutral colored clothing (the Arctic wear had be a fluorescent green!). I also imagined myself without weight or mass, better perhaps to avoid possible sensors or alarms.

I finally was satisfied that the building was empty and I entered through the front doorway. And gasped when I saw that the building served as an entry, into what I did not know. There was a large metal platform in the floor, a lift I surmized, and at the back, a steel ladder descending through a large opening in the floor. The walls held various ports, some for power and others for liquids or perhaps gases or both, pipes and hoses with valves is what I could see. I stepped onto the platform to cross back to the ladder, and immediately it began descending. And descending quickly coming to a sudden stop with a loud clang and I was surrounded by a crowd of silent humanoids/aliens?/ I didn’t know which, but I knew what. I was immediately bound and thrust into what looked like some sort of containment chamber a hatch closing behind me. (disaster)

(898 wds)

Day 24: Cut the Fluff

September 4, 2018

I had learned about today’s prompt in Stave Alcorn’s Writers Academy some time ago.  We don’t need the adverbs. cut them. and then usually have to restructure the sentance in order to read smoothly. I do it, unless I have a specific reason not too.  I have posted my efforts to cut the fluff so to speak in the piece below which is a continueance of Stan and 03’s struggle to rescue Flora, Stan’s wife, and understand what this attack means for the future of human and machine kind in the universe.

RR. Part II. Act 2. Chapter 4. In an altered place.

(struggle)(scene)My goal was to get Flora back. (goal) In that I differed from of 01 and 03. Their goal was to understand what had happened and how. That was going to have to be part of my first goal, the second part was who had done this. That was actually their second part as well. Who? What and How, sounds like we are journalism students learning to gather facts for a story. Oh, When and Where, were on the boards as well. And we were starting with nothing, other than the knowledge that nothing was neither a possible nor acceptable answer to any of our questions.

01 and 03 were still linked to each other, and 01 created a further link to the labs main computers. The labs machines were simply data processors and were neither sentient nor intelligent (in the sense that either humans or our newly invented sentient AI’s were). But they were powerful 366 bit quantum processors. 01 started with “Stan, I want you to be part of this linkage, it is probably best if you and 03 couple sexually while I set up the electronic interface bots.”

“Oh my poor Stan” 03 murmered as she guided me into her. “Oh god, how you are hurting. I knew that your love was profound from our first time, but you have deepened it so much. We will find her”. I braced for the hook-up with the mains and the flood of data would have been destructive had it not been buffered by 01 and 03.

“Stan, try to create an image of the orange matrix. 03 hold off until Stan gets us a foothold in that place, then add your memories to the effort. I’ll join once you two are in”. He should have added, if he were able. I focused my attention and was instantly pulled through into that very ugly orange/brown light. I was once again incompletely formed, but this time 03 was with me. We were of one consciousness, and then she brought her intention into forming the space and we were one being. We felt a movement when 01 tried to join us, and suddenly we shifted out of this space into a better defined one, ( conflict) the same ugly light was present but now we could see that we were on ground. A vast landscape that reminded one of a war-ravaged land in our own realtiy. We could see nothing green or obviously alive. A stinging hot sulfurous wind blew strongly filling 03’s eyes with dust, my eyes too, but my physical eyes were not here. Not much of my body was here. Not enough to be of much help to 03 as she tried to clear our eyes and block the wind. There was no sign of 01’s presence. (disaster)



03’s machine mind was unruffled as she put pattern after pattern up in our consciousness, my organic one was practically reeling from the emotional flooding that was produced by my memories of Flora’s kidnapping and of our earlier love and excitement. I was able to buffer it to some extent, enough that 03 and I could link mentally. (thought)

“Still not a one that looks like it could have any meaning at all” was all that 03 had to say at this point and I acknowledged her. “Let’s not go on with this, let’s see what we can do physically to explore this place. I am going to pull my various parts together and put them with your permission, into your abdomen for safety, then let’s get on with it. (plan)


( goal)

As 03 moved (physically moved her robotic arms to gather in the pieces of me. that She could see glowing a more intense orange light than the surrounding orange/brown mess in which we seemed to be imbedded. Well not we, I am out of it, with the insertion of my organic body parts into her metalic abdomen, I lost contact with what little I had of my body. I was now a disembodied consciousness within 03’s mind and body. It was quite disconcerting as I had grown very fond of sharing her mind. But best was, we both shared a sense of oneness, our minds were one, our perceptions were one, that is the same. I blink, she blinks, the view is the same. The melodies of her perfectly pitched mentations, harmonized with mine, and even worked when mine were out of tune. I had feelings about this, that and she participated in them williningly and joyfully. “Look, an emotion from a machine!” I chided. And she responded by throwing a dozen switches simulationoursly sending both of us, as one, off on a laughing spree. Now I have lost that sense of connection and feel saddned by same. But, all is not lost, This gives me time to assess what has happened to me, so I can test with 03 for accuracdy of perception. And I see now, that in addition to the functionality and efficiency of the shared state, I as an individual am just as important to this process of being human and being conscious as is my being a well integrated participant in our human community.  A post-modern Jewish intellectual, Martin Buber discribed it as an I-Thou phenomenon. Both states are necessary and really must be integrated, for intellectual, emotional and spiritual growth to advance.

Now my objective was to advance our progress on rescueing Flor and we were starting with nothing to go on, and isolation from the labs main computers, and A01. 03 spoke. “Stan, where are you? I am listening, try to reach me.” My reaction was after the startle effect of her sudden appearance, was one of relief. And I called out to her. “I am here, inside your body, just not your mind. Not as we were. And for now, I think that is a good thing. I want some time to evaluate our situation, from my unique point of view, and test it with you later. We might learn something. Something like there is something out of sync with our perceptual schemas. And, yes, I missed you, or maybe the comfort of being you so seamlessly with me. I hope it becomes useful again. And, I hope you know; that “you will live in my heart for life. Now can we get on with the hunt for Flor?”

(1076 wds)

Day 23: Write an ending

September 3, 2018

RR. Part II. Act 3. Chapter (last)

I wrote the word ‘ending’ as part of my outline for RR. in 2014, the last time I had devoted any significant time to it. I began warming up to the task again in May of 2018, after gaining an insight into my lack of interest in it, which I got from reading a fairly competent, second tier, self published, author. His story was interesting and almost compelling, enough so at least, to induce me to read well into the second act, when he finally introduced his antagonist. And, I did not find a stereotypical religious fanatic interesting at all. And there it was right in my eyes, the reason I did not like my book as outlined, picking religious fanatics I played right into my own prejudices, and it did nothing at all to promote the cryonics industry with my readers. It was a cheap shot. Needless to say this left me in confusion as to how to proceed.  I, yes, am quite attached to my own prose, and yet, I want to create a subtle and provocative antagonist without strating the entire work over . So, for now I have picked a middle way, I won’t (yet?) give up my old prose, or at least not all of it, by defining it as Part I. and append a Part II. Which is what I have done, and with this challenge, speeded up it’s advancement. What I have not yet done is written a synopsis, nor an outline of chapters nor a scene/sequel flow chart. Hence Jeff’s prompt “write an ending” is getting me to do just that. In the meantime, below is ‘ending’ from my outline of 2014:

An Ending, 2014.

(In which those of the re-animation community who wish to migrate to the L5 and other Extra planetary Human Habits, so along with those of the religious community who wish to further explore what they call “The Creation”) leaving those who do not wish, to re-build a more rational human society that is not at odds with those of religious persuasions.)

Scene: Stan and Flora decide together to stay on earth and bring peace to the world.

Sequel: S and F described as hugging in the sunset.

(synopsis, 2018)

humankind is advancing rapidly in the era following the ‘religio-techno’ war. Cryonics, now with a world wide audience, is striving to advance the field of re-animation and to expand the industry inorder to meet anticipitated exponential increases in the demand for services as it becomes the most widely sought after medical treatment for human diseases that have stubbornly held on despite the incredible advances in modern medical science. In Stan’s first life cycle, the amalgamation of nanotech, computer science and medical science, was already advancing at an ever increasing clip as was artificial intelligence though ‘sentinent AI was still thought to be a long way off. In this story, of Stan’s pursuit of goals which have become part of the foundation stones of modern life, those of equality, liberty, and repsonsibility for the larger community of life. e.g. all Dna bases life, and added recently, silicone based ‘life’ which has become self-conscious and capable of self-directed behaviours. So we are all on the same page, right? Right up and until Stan’s wife and partner, Flora, is kidnapped and Stan involves his closest friend A01 and 103, both sentient AI’s in her rescue. Before they get very far, Stan is also attacked. This leads to the discovery of a parallel reality, consciousness in another dimension, in which Stan and 03 get stranded and, separated from A01, who is left in his lab in the Santa Monica Mountains. Flora who has regained some level of control finds herself in what appears to be a prison, also in that what appears to be, parallel reality, only she is under ground and put in danger of drowning.

Stan and 03’s, attempts to learn to cooperate, and communicate with each other in order to pursue the rescue and reach an epiphany in which they each learn to love the other without the unconscious organic biasis that had been frustrating their attempts to rescue Flora. As they do, they are able to understand where the threat is coming from and to with that knowledge save Flora and get back to A01 where the four of them would create the communication channel to the attacker which allowed for a peaceful and powerful new ally in the the struggle to grow in knowledge and capacity to love.


Day 22: Fear

September 1, 2018

RR. Part II. Act 2. Chapter 3 In My Lover’s Voice (continued)


I hadn’t waited long when the orange light/fog? I don’t know what to call it, began to thin out and I could make out my surroundings. I was in what looked like a huge utility room full of machines some of which seemed to be operating. There were boxes, opened and unopened,strewn everywhere and what looked to be unswept trash littering the passages between the machines. I found that I had a body which was unhurt, and I was unsecured. I changed my plan, I would no longer wait, I would become proactive in my rescue. (goal)

I began to explore and gingerly picking my way over and around the junk, I mapped the room in which I had been deposited. As I have said, it was huge, really huge like an aircraft hanger, one for space vehicles, At one end, there were storerooms, unlocked, and offices, and perhaps a control room for the machines (a large number of pipes, tubes and cables were running into (or out of) it, some down into the hard floor and others upward towards the ceiling, perhaps one hundred and fifty feet above. I decided to inspect the perimeter of the building, before checking out the offices, though they seemed to be empty, but then empty of what? Of whom? I couldn’t answer those questions, so I left those areas for later. I was not gaining in confidence from what I was finding as I worked my way around the inside of what was looking more and more to be like my personal prison. I was finding no exits, no doors, windows, loading docks, hatches, nothing. Neither were there any signs signifying the opposite. No way out that I could see. (conflict)

I would have to explore those offices and deal with anyone, or thing, that might be within. I did pick up a hammer along the way, to what end I did not know. The first of the rooms I warily entered was full of small boxes which upon inspection contained smallish, one to two ounce ingots of various metals. I could recognize gold, silver, copper, platinum, lead, nickel and cobalt, but there were many others that I did not have a clue about. The next room contained many sealed glass cylinders, which might have held gas or vapours as well as a variety of liquids of many colors. A very empty office room, desks chairs, lamps, file cabinets, and typewriters. (File cabinets and typewriters ??? What age, what reality was I in? More unanswered questions. And so far, still no way out. I had hoped that I might have found an elevator or lift or escape tunnel in one of the rooms, but, again, nothing. My confidence which had not been great to begin with really began to flag when suddenly I was engulfed by alarms and flashing lights. I reacted, of course, with an adrenaline rush and I headed for the last room, the one I thought might be some sort of control room. I found it to be the source my distress. It was brightly illuminated by flashing red warning lights emanating from every piece of hardware that had one. And the claxtons on the wall were practically deafening. I had no idea of what to do, but standing still in that environment was not an option. The first thing I had to do, was turn off the damn noise, and there was what looked to be a master cutoff switch on the wall. I threw it and the sound stopped. At the same time I was plunged into darkness. No, blackness. No light anywhere, I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. I threw the switch back on and thankfully, the light came back but not the claxtons. Red lights were again flashing, not as many of them and I didn’t know what to make of that, but thinking very old technology, I guessed that the trigger might have been something global, like the main power and once reset many of them were no longer relevant to the assault.

I began to look at the panels which were still flashing warnings. And found the most vexing fact. They were dummies. The knobs controlled nothing. The switches toggle and rheostatic, created no changes when activated. Gauges, also phony, all of the needles were (yes these were analogue type gauges, if they were anything and I began to suspect that something more nefarious was going on. And there was and it became apparent in the next instant. I was deluged by an orange liquid. It was being emitted by what looked like fire sprinklers, vigorusly sprayed over every thing in the room. But worse yet as I soon found out stepping out of the control room, it was being sprayed from those very high ceilings and it was still a deluge. It was beginning to pool on the floor (lifting a whole lot of trash as it did). Now I saw my dilemna; with no way out and a rapidly deepening pool (more like a sea really), I could drown in here. I headed back for the control room and before I got two steps, the lights went out again, and I tripped and fell headlong into the trashy liquid. (disaster)


This is when the terror hit me. I was once again frozen in my fear. (emotion)

(917 wds)







Day 21: Confess

September 1, 2018

Think about it. What is the worst thing you have done? That shameful, ugly, antisocial thing, traitorous, whatever act that you did that above all, you wish you could take back. Oh, don’t tell me that you don’t have one. That you have been a paragon of virtue your entire life, either that or so within the mainstream that whatever your sins were, they went un-recognized among the multitude of sins being committed by the sinners around you. No, that won’t do. Down deep, deep under your denial, down in your psyche hiding behind projection and reaction formation, your inner, secret self has an entire library of such acts recorded in your memory files, along with Cliff Notes describing in detail your emotional turmoil and distress associated with each, and contributing to the hierarchy, from most painful to mildly uncomfortable. Yes, you. Please answer the question.

(A painful silence ensues and persists until one knows that the interviewee is not going to answer the question but is going to react.)

No! Not that question. Not the one sin that hurts more than anything anyone can imagine. I won’t!”

Okay, then, I’ll do it. And you will see that someone, me, can imagine how much pain can attach to a memory. And you will also see that I, and therefore you, can manage it. The pain that is. We can also manage the consequences that we generated when committing the act, whether they were immediate reactions of people affected, or were invisible to you and perhaps some others. We all manage and continue to manage until we don’t and then it no longer matters. So here is mine; I spied on my parents during an argument, in which Father pulled off my drunken mothers bathing suit, and rinsed beach sand off of her nude body with the garden hose out in our backyard. I was thirteen, in the house, looking out of the window. It was a west facing window so the afternoon sun made me invisible to them. So I watched, and I did not turn away. Thirteen is not a good age to witness such a violent and sexual act between ones parents, how-so-ever disguised as a hygienic act. No, I looked, and when they were done and father carried mother into the house, I hid in the bathroom and and after a while I got my own bath (yes, the entire family had been to the beach and we all were sandy, salty, hot and tired) I was masturbating in the tub, when my father came into the bathroom, without knocking, (he had no idea anyone was in there.) And I practically jumped out of the tub I was so startled and then shamed, and when he asked what I had been doing I was frozen, he shrugged and went back out. I was humilated and scarred by it. The burning sensation in my face, scarlet with shame. The agonizing constriction in my throat, my heart pounding like it would explode from my chest. I was thirteen, (did I say that before? ) well no matter, it was way too young to tolerate this level of emotional intensity for very long. And so it went away. Why? I didn’t know then even that it had, I just had the memory of the scene not the feeling. It was just gone. Now I know that it could go away because it had not been the first such experience. I had had earlier such extreme emotional states. I have recovered memories from age ten, age four, and age four months, where the humiliations were generated as aftereffect of beatings that I got for a variety of sins, however, they don’t rate as high on the avoid-at-all-cost list. They were not sins committed by a rational person, they were childish acts that were committed unfortunately in the vicinity of my mother, who carried out the beatings. At first, my childish reaction was, quite understandably rage, but when that was stuffed down my throat by further beating, it became shame. Shame, a synonym for humiliation, is rage turned inward and choked off in the body, and it hurts so damn much that when it becomes attached to pubertal and adolescent sexual development and all of our unique family and cultural rules, we, all over-react. (all of us who have repressed infantile emotions, which, whether you were beaten or not, you have, so that means all of us raised middle-class American, and most everybody else in the world as well, though maybe without the heavy emphasis on sexuality that we, may I say, in Christendom, exhibit? So now, now that you know, can you cop to it? Can you let the Shame, and the Rage, and the hurt and the betrayals and the abandonments, the little slights and judgements as well as the big ones, can you let that knowledge free you from your fear of your own feelings now that you know they pertained to the infantile you, the toddler you, the child you were, and not who you are today, the adult who survived and matured and became real in the world, responsible, functional (to the degree’s that you are). The adult who while not liking how these feelings fit in your body, is not destroyed by them either. Can you confess?. It is good for you and your soul.


(908 wds)