In the midst of the turmoil of creation, beneath the primal cry from Reality's womb... lies organic patterns of energy. The sweat exuded from a lover's pores; the nectar extracted... genetic spores. Seanod O'Conner wrapped in butterfly wings gliding through the cosmos... uttering: Blissful secrets which lull the cecada to sleep. The hashish scented air from Roman braziers tickles the cortex while the universe springs forth from its vortex. Reality created from the perception and translation of particle waveformes becoming neuro-chemical cineview with Dolby B sound recorded and played back in compressed digital pulsations at your leisure since they are stored in your databanks at the centre of your universe... ever-expanding in a sphere of self-expression limited only by infinite possibilities and the associated probabilities. Our experience of this life we live is edited only by self-imposed limitations upon our brain. The data is there... more than can be comprehended. We screen out what we perceive to be noise on the radio transmission. We tune to one frequency and obliterate that which we cannot understand at this point in space and time. It is due to the process of enculturation: That which our society and environment teach us is necessary and acceptable. We are taught further back than we can consciously remember to screen out the noise that mankind as a species has forgotten to recognize as another sense of awareness. After all, Society fears change so the mutation of perception to the reality inherent to a culture is a potential hazard to the common ground that we as individuals need in order to establish an ordered society. It is a society that is a mockery to the true order of things. Though the Lorenz attractor proves that there is order to chaos [or at least within it] we insist on mastering all and fighting the order of Nature when all things that must occur to preserve Gaia will happen as required by some cosmic plan beyond our present understanding. Perhaps the space between the written word or letter means more than what is copied down on an ancient piece of lambskin scroll. We as a species tend to take too many things at face value. Most of what is written here are truisms. Most of these are now neurochemical timebombs in your cerebral corteX.TICK-TICK-TICKTOCTICKITING away -- ready to blow away your perception of this plane of existence which you hold so dear. The potential that you hold is sacred. Do not squander it away for a safe home in the suburbs to watch CNN where the world cannot hurt you. The scabs when healed are stronger than the flesh that once was. You might as well take thirtey pieces of silver and betray your own soule that is here to better itself before returning to the fold. Don't confuse what existed first with your parent's biological milkshake. There is more surrounding you than you know...
~ M o r e T h a n Y o u K n o w ~
composed on a SNAP 2 terminal aboard an American submarine
~somewhere beneath the Atlantic Ocean, early 1990s
Alchemist