Saturday, July 21, 2012

A 1915 Film of Alice in Wonderland

Here's an interesting find for you appreciators of oddities!  Since Planet Buddha always has the underlying Wonder of a true Wonderland, the adventure "down the rabbit hole" is one of our main shamanic themes; after all, the very first blog article was posted in the year of the Rabbit, and it was about the very subject; it's a definite through line!


W W Young's 1915 film of Lewis Carroll's "Alice in Wonderland". Starring Viola Savoy as Alice. Produced by The American Film Manufacturing Company (Flying A Studios) and released on 19 January 1915.


Friday, July 20, 2012

Butterfly Garden


click the above to play


The wild rain say gentle things to you, from this sea.
Beautiful wonder inside the mind stream, special practice here (x2).
Remember this happy elephant queen she came before the old silent sun, 
understand her end time music.
Always at home in her butterfly garden (x3).


Music by Devin Crow
Vocals by Emi Hensley



Monday, July 16, 2012

A Synchronicity


Just recently, I experienced a cool synchronicity.  As you might know, we like to change it up around here in terms of atmosphere and ambience every now and then, so the Planet Buddha cover, look, and aesthetics are constantly changing.  Well, at the time, I had the front cover of the mystery-theatre Planet Buddha, which was the following: 


On Wednesday, July 11,  I went to see an amazing modern-contemporary dance show, out of town. When I sat in my seat, I noticed that I had walked, virtually, into the cover of Planet Buddha, even from the angle at which I was sitting.  It was, to me, a hierophany of the mind-land of Planet Buddha. 


The backs of the chairs are red in color, and the same shape too, as in the cover.

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Virtual Titan-Fields

Watched an online interactive war-game today, on a large screen TV.  A friend voiced his concern some time ago that his overt interest in those kinds of virtual killing-games might attract the attention of war gods (or Titans, according to the apropos designation by Robert Thurman), and indeed, that is the very idea of such games.  They are designed to instill, especially in boys with burgeoning testosterones, a sense of satisfaction in vanquishing an enemy, in actions of valor and teamwork.  While there is nothing inherently wrong with any of these things, and while it all seems innocuous and harmless enough because the games after all are virtual, it is just as what the friend had said; the generated fields of energy resonate to interweave with morphic fields of Titans.

There are noble, high, suprahuman Titans, and there are inferior, subhuman Titans.  If there is to be consonance with either of such fields, the former would be preferable, but one does not want to be attracted to and attract such fields in the first place.  But there will always be those who are prone, and especially (not to be too sexist ...) boys.  Most, if not all, of the characters I saw in this game were men.  And the players playing online seemed to be boys, monicker-wise and trolling-comments-wise.  Some of them do go on revelries of hatred and bloodlust (at least it's virtual), as could be seen from their comments.  But let it be known, that in ultimate reality, the Titans, both superior and inferior, are not enemies.

Are these games, then, dangerous because they attract Titan-fields?  There are, of course, magickal, ritual ways of self-protection from such fields so they become sublimated.  However, even if they are not, perhaps there is a benefit to them after all, in a rather surprising way. Perhaps there is a dissipation that occurs in venting virtually, and the dissipation affords lessening of the actual to come to pass.  In other words, dissipation by way of the virtual mitigates actualizations of those enactments.  Consciousness after all is connected and interfused with everything.  

A long time ago I saw Stanley Kubrick's Full Metal Jacket in a theater.  It wasn't an action-heavy flick, it was more about the psychology of young jarhead-boys getting turned into killers.  In the end of the movie is a poignant scene in which the character called Joker, who had never shot anyone, shoots a dying young sniper (female) as an act of euthanasia.  There is a tense closeup of his face as it contorts from an inner, moral struggle, until he finally pulls the trigger.  The moral intent and message of the scene were obvious, at least to me, but the guy who was sitting in front of me yelled "YEAH! (and added some testosterone-ridden pejoratives)" at the moment of the gunshot.  He just didn't get it.  It wasn't supposed to be a feel-good moment.  It was the moment in which a boy lost his soul;  it was about the sad horrors of war, and how young people, still green in the world, fall to states of being from which they would have a difficult time recovering in times of peace.  

But in retrospect, perhaps that dufus' gleeful cheering was alright.  Perhaps he dissipated some energy that needed to get released, which went out to get transmuted into something else, i.e. into the Titan-field or perhaps worse, but the new karmas produced, hopefully, would be of virtual, vicarious struggles, instead of actual ones.    


Thursday, July 12, 2012

Since you've been gone...

I catch a glimpse of you, from the corner of my eye.
A Shadow upon shadows, coldness in the air.

Luminous flashes behind my closed eyes,
Like the brief flare of lightning across a Summer sky.

Curled up in a ball, in the middle of my bed.
I imagine I can feel your hand upon my head.

"Get up" whispers in my ear.
"Cry not for me, for this was not the end."

"Only a rebirth, and no birth comes without pain."
"My spirit lives on, I will never die, so wipe those
tears from the corner of your eye."

So here I sit, left far behind,
Knowing one day the turn will be mine.

One day I will know what lies beyond.
My mind will expand with the knowledge of the Universe.

Until then, I will try not to weep.
Guarding the place in my heart
That you will always keep.

I hope that when you are not gliding around in the shadows of the cosmos,
that the sun is shining and the fish are biting.

"Second star to the left, and straight on till morning..."



Monday, July 9, 2012

Love Card

To my Beloved: 

Here's a snippet from the 1,100 page love note to you:

In an instant, everything, utterly everything, became compacted into a tiny dot. The tiny dot was afloat, not anywhere at all, but it was afloat. Everything, utterly everything was contained in it . .… Everything was a metaphor for everything else.  There was nothing that was not a metaphor.  . . . . . 

In a colossal ocean of roiling liquid, awareness happened.  Suddenly looking around to see a domain, a realm, an environment.  Splitting into two parts, awareness saw with dimension, depth and contrast.  Splitting into three, the third kept check on the seeing with the two; perfect.   Three became Four.  Four became Five, and Five ramified exponentially into countless infinities.

An arrow hit the mark, that is, the minute dot.  It hit the mark.  Bull’s-eye.  It was the bull’s-eye of the cosmos; there was no better aim.  No better aim, and never shall be.  It was the aim of aims.  It was the aim of aims of aims ad infinitum.  The arrow had hit the minutest of minutest dots. . . . . . 

 “Can’t you see?  There is nothing more to be known.  Everything else is just repetition.  It’s all just entertainment.  You and I, we are One.  There is nothing else.  Nothing.  Try thinking of something else.”  His face appeared to be smiling, smiling gleefully.

. . . . . 

“I am your failsafe.  You forgot, but I didn’t.  You forgot because it’s fun to forget, that’s all.   . . . . .  Now go back, and have fun with a little nostalgia.” . . . . . 

At the corner of her awareness, at the top, right-hand corner, at the outermost periphery, yes, she saw that being once again.

Do you remember?”  He laughed.  And vanished.

A shining embryo floated above the inner sanctum of the universal pavilion.  Within the embro were Twins in utero, shining bright, resonating with Life Force.  

Returning to the side of her True Love, Lotus looked up into the new night sky, Venus, Jupiter, constellations sparkling.  It was the end of an eon.  . . . . . gazing inward, gazing upward, gazing outward, anticipating with excitement the dawning new eon. . . . . present and the future hummed with potential beyond all horizons, transcending all boundaries, expanding ubiquitously, vast, brimming and resonating with Life Force.

Happy Birthday my Love XO XO XO XO XO XO XO XO XO XO XO

Friday, July 6, 2012

On Emptiness

I was rooting through old emails today and came across this response (dated Feb 12 2009) I had written to a fellow; he had written several emails and had sent me his analysis of 'sunyata' (emptiness, the void) in Buddhist teachings. So I decided to cut and paste that letter I had written, as an article. Warning to readers: It's a very heavy-handed, concise and non circumspect in-your-face reply to one specific person.

>>I would like to suggest that conceptual objects can be analyzed in a similar manner in so doing a concept is reduced to its parts and examined<< 

You seem to be well-read and well-rounded in theoretical material, so you should know that reductionism is no longer "vogue." Even Quine---"To be is to be a value of a variable"---gave it up a long time ago. I find that there is a paradigmatic trend toward the "whole," and it's a good one. 

We're very alike. I used to be the same way. When I was 33, I woke up. I had a library of thousands of books, and they all "neutralized" in a matter of a minute. It was a segue to the opening of all my energy centers. Speaking of emptiness, the void, nothingness, and so on, analyzing "it," is like trying to take quantum measurement without collapsing the wave function; it's like trying to get accurate information of both position and momentum notwithstanding uncertainty; it's like trying to photograph your shadow with a flash camera, it's like trying to videotape a hallucination, it's like trying to see darkness by turning the light on, it's like flying to the sun in a rocket ship at night so as not to get burned, it's like looking for lost keys outside of your house because there's more light outside, even knowing that the key was actually lost inside. When you speak of analyzing emptiness, you're not analyzing emptiness, but the concept of emptiness. 

Emptiness-itself cannot be analyzed, it eludes all attempt, as it is the ontological a priori with respect to the experience of being-as-such; it is beyond essence and existence, it is neither whole nor part, it is neither phenomenon nor noumenon nor epiphenomenon. It---"it"―is, after all, empty. And even saying this, I speak merely conceptually. It is called 'anupalabha' in Sanskrit/Tibetan and '不可得' in Tantrayana; essentially, it's a reference to paradox. Emptiness refers to the lack of self-nature with respect to the Ding an sich, it pertains to the primacy of consciousness. Quantum theory has been catching up in this arena, (since the early 1930's). 

Emptiness can only be experienced. "It" can only be "groked," only "assimilated" by way of practice and "epiphany," this is why the Zen approach uses the Koan method, for example. Too much training in the western paradigm of Aristotlean tertium non datur makes for poor habits. That kind of "chreode" is difficult to overhaul, but my hope is that there will be an ingression of Novelty. But that ingression must begin within. There is no other way. You're outside looking in. That's OK, at least you're looking and it shows that you're an old soul, and I have a feeling that you won't quit until you have your first experience of enlightenment. That is when it all begins. 

Esoteric tantra and esoteric Buddha practices do not focus on emptiness per se. Emptiness is a preliminary, as one must advance beyond it (or else we fall into what is called "emptiness sickness" and nihilism). You are correct in using the fractal metaphor for maṇḍalas, as that's what they are, interfused, interpenetrations of manifestations of consciousness. The 不可得 is only "accessible" to resonance and practice. Assimilate it, grok it, experience it, entrust yourself to the cosmos, which is your own enlightened nature, then analyze it all you want ... but trust me, after you've experienced your initial awakening, you won't care to any more :-). 

I'm sorry that my response is terse, but I'm also in the midst of a practice-vow in which I cannot say much, I'm swamped also with work :-). I look forward to more exchange after the current practice-vow is complete.



Wednesday, July 4, 2012

The Higgs Boson as Metaphor


So there's July-4th-worthy hoopla about the Higgs-boson detection. Why, am I not glad? Why am I more annoyed with it than anything else? Its being called the pompous 'god particle' aside, there's something about the whole thing that sticks in my craw, and I want to get to the bottom of why it does. After all, I've been an armchair quantum-theorist for 30 years now; early on I was driven to study mathematics because of my attraction to quantum physics (among other things), so to me, it was not merely a matter of casual interest.

Over ten years ago I was leafing through Scientific American at a supermarket and glanced at a column that asked if quarks were the bottom (so to speak) line, because they had findings that hinted that maybe there's more fundamental stuff. I laughed. A pathetic feeling came over me about the whole endeavor. It was the beginning of my current understanding, that the current, "orthodox" scientific paradigm has reached its epistemic limit. It's not that I'm not expecting any new discoveries, no, such is not the case. I'm talking about the process of poking around recursively to uncover more of the same, and more of the same minutia that holographically contain more of the same ad infinitum; this is because the poking-around is done in the spirit of an outdated, materialist empiricism. 

I recently read an article about foods that look like the parts of the body that they are actually good for; it was further confirmation of what I would expect of the universe. Consider how fractals are the same in galaxies, rivers, geological patterns, plants, veins, DNA, and so on to infinity. Why would quantum phenomena be any different? Everything interpenetrates, and everything is a metaphor, thus, for everything. Never mind the mediating particle that answers for mass in the universe, in general. So it was discovered, alright, so what? It's like an explorer who's seen the world, but who's never laid eyes on the back of their own head; they've charted the seven seas and land formations, yet they haven't much familiarity with the "landscape" of the palm of their hand.

Not to mention there's an entire Universe, an entire Cosmos in their very own bodies, living, breathing, circumfused with perfect organization, which they take for granted. And then there's the Sixth Element, Mind. They can keep going "out there" to the farthest reaches of the universe (or to the innermost reaches of matter), to the "ends" of the incomprehensibly vast expanse of Space, and yet they will, aside from finding more of the same, run into the same problem, viz., that there is no "bottom line" to it all, that it's all a big, holographic, recursive collection of fractal loopie-loops without foundation. This is because that is what it is. Everything is as it is, and paradoxical. Where does it all start and end up?

Mind is the origin and terminus of Space; it is a Paradoxical Continuum interfused with everything, nothing excluded. Hence the real "god particle," then, will never be a piece of the material puzzle; it must be a superposition of matter and hyper-matter. It must be alive, it must be cognizant, self-aware; it is Mind. Mind itself is of multitudinous layers, states, and stages of development / evolution / involution. Perhaps there's an irony to this name, 'god particle,' because it smacks of scientism, and scientism has its own Spanish-Inquisition-kind of big-brothering, paradigm-wise, and it has its own quasi-religiopolitics; it has its own hubris in its sense of finality.

So yes, this is the reason why I'm not uncorking the champagne over the discovery of the Higgs-boson. It's too soon to party, folks, because some day you'll be joining that field of pure energy, and won't be ready for it because you kept chasing it outside only. Chase it, by all means do, but don't get all god-particle pompous about it. There's more to that kind of designation than meets the materialist perspective, which would sooner embrace, say, a many-worlds interpretation over the existence of a conscious, quantum-wave-collapsing agent.

Now let's get to the metaphor part, aside from the moral of the story. The "god-particle" is metaphor for the Timewave-zero-point Singularity. As mentioned above, there is nothing in the world, literally, that would earn that kind of designation by standing on its own merit. Hence what would the Singularity be? We don't know, of course, but thanks to the Higgs particle, we've been pinged with another confirmation, viz., that it is a superposition that is not merely a material, ostensible event.

Sunday, July 1, 2012

Sister Midnight: Solar Eclipse

On the morning of the Annular Solar Eclipse, May 20, 2012, I had a vivid dream. 


I was in a Chthonic, subterranean but relatively small circular room that was made of stone blocks. I was underground so it was dark in the room. I looked upward and see that there is a cylindrical wall that goes up to surface level; I see that there is a lid covering the top of it, but the sky (which is dark, as it is night) is slightly revealed in the shape of a crescent because the lid is slightly off-center. It's like I'm at the bottom of a stone-walled well. I decide to climb up the stone wall, to go up to ground level. I remove the lid slightly and see that Adolf Hitler is on patrol, in his early days before becoming dictator, and he's looking for Jews and other such beings who are not allowed to legally exist. I thought to myself, "I guess he must've been active even before he became a dictator."


So I stay behind the lid and hide until he goes away, and then I encounter a metaphysical personification of 888, of the Mormon Christ, a woman I know who has been an aspect of an invisible transmission, but she is on the other end of a landline phone. She is in a mode of strictly enforcing rules, and is trying to get me in trouble. I try and reason with her but it's just not happening. All of this is taking place in a dark room at night, without any lights on. She is a transformation-avatar, yet again, of the mysterious Sister Midnight who manifests in many guises: as a wraith, as the dark sister Hecate, as the protecting Hand of Miriam ...


Anima-attributes sometimes manifest in my significant dreams as prophetic beings with wrathful messages. Upon waking up, I realized that I had dreamt of myself as a conflation of several characters from suppressed worlds of the collective psyche; they're all myself, my Anima arising from the depths, rising upward to come into a 1984-kind of Orwellian world.