I often find myself passionate after an idea or venture. It may be a small thing, like my recent acoustic echo-cancelling mobile bamboo partition, or a big thing, such as my well-inspired but overwhelming Node World project.
The cotton sheet blocks the sound from bouncing back at the microphone.
I have discovered that, while I may do things out of logic, for, say, personal goals, or due to simple curiosity, my most valued achievements are always from a sense of passion & inspiration.
Moreover, I have learned that anything that is made out of passion, does not need a reason to be, and so we call it art. And that artists, people who make art regularly, give themselves for free, in order for their creations to enjoy the attention of others.
The artist, a quality rare in most, but dominant in few, gives himself for free, contrary to his produce, for which payment is demanded.
"Mommy?" Asked a giant octopus, in a sound wave below human hearing.
"Yes, dear?" Answered an even bigger octopus, floating not quite mid-air, near the other.
"What is that?" It raised a tentacle at a near by tiny lizard.
"Do not point, Phefahphiou!" The angry mother warned. She would not have uneducated children making her look bad, in front of other creatures.
"I apologize, but what is it?" The child repeated, lowering its' tentacle.
"It is a dinosaur," she answered. "And it is an enemy of the Coalition."
We are already being eased into this future symbio.
"Can I eat it?" The child asked, ever so innocently. The lizard, a tiny thing in comparison, tilted its' head, and considered the transparent floating threats, above it. It began skittering away.
"No," the mother shuffled closer, towards the young one. "We do not eat those."
"Why?" The child asked, looking up at his mother.
"Because, they are our friends, and..." she lingered.
"And we do not eat our friends," finished the child, not satisfied with the conclusion.
The Partially Examined Life podcast & blog, albeit entertaining, is a great example of why abstract philosophies are fucking useless.
By "abstract philosophies", I mean thinking about life out of context of my own personal life. Without the inclusion of my own experiences. In other words, talking without "getting dirty."
Visit their website & podcast.
I do give it to them that the discussions are humoristic & easy going, and so make for a nice entertaining background sound; so I have something to listen to, while working out, say.
Abstract philosophy, or "philosophizing", is the cause of all structured ignorance. The idea that any thought can be discussed in an impersonal manner, as if from the cloud-seat of some immortal deity, only causes misunderstandings and confusion. As proof, talk to any philosophy student; the pure embodiment of trying to study philosophy, without attaching its' meaning to our own lives.
So, while I do recommend listening to any of their episodes, and their well-narrated talks, I strongly warn against considering any of it as Philosophy.
Trust is created through shared experiences. More than anything else, it is created through our most common activity - conversation.
By having conversations, by listening to each other, and then trying to understand each other's experiences and perspectives, we gain a feeling of trust from others, and they gain the same feeling of trust, from us.
Thank you, MemeForge.net users!
Everything we say relates to our emotions, whether negative or positive. By sharing how we feel, through describing our lives to others, we allow others to sympathise with us. If they accept this offer, and join the discussion, then mutual trust and cooperation can exist.
However, without trust, there is no cooperation. That is how we get conflict and misunderstandings. These lead to offenses, neglect, and aggression.
Next time you have a conversation with another person, especially with another person whom you care for, or find interest in them, remember to listen, attempt to understand them, join the discussion in an active and interested manner, and gain their trust! :-)
...When I noticed the building, just to my left. Even the buildings were made of brick. Most of them a sort of red shaded brick, mostly from clay.
"I wonder if she is there," I spoke out loud, but only to myself.
It is the middle of the day. A cloudless day. The sun at full throttle. I entered the building, and climbed up the stairs to the third floor, where I would find my friend's apartment.
"Watch out," my friend warned me, as I approached. "Dervie is inside, and it got him cornered!"
"Oh no," I thought and replied. "It's them again, right?" I asked her.
"Yes, but they really got him, this time!" She was panicking, and it was up to me to sort them out.
I open the door, and there he is. Dervie. Sitting on the floor, legs spread wide, neck to the wall, and a table pinning him down - at the neck.
"So," I start, but it is apparent that the table is loose, now. They let him go, as soon as they saw me. Dervie scrambles out of the room, as fast as humanly possible, leaving the door open. I do not bother to look behind. I do, however, look to the side of the room.
"How about eating a muffin? Eat one. Or two." - Junkie Space Alien
"Grbledrhrtewshbfx," the creature speaks. It is small, short and wide, sort of blue. It has hair, but it is not like our hair. It looks different, as if it was a different material.
I look to the floor, searching back next to the table. There is a box there. An open box. A box of muffins. Well, I call them muffins, at least. I take the box, and do not look back at the creature.
"I should not eat this," I say, or think, or maybe I realized this only after taking a muffin, one of two remaining muffins, and stuffing it into my mouth. Delicious. Just a muffin, really.
The creature is smiling, now that I check back with it.
"Here we go," I say, and everything turns into a vortex of colors, and I just know that this is not going to be a happy journey. Especially, because on the other side, it is a bright and sunny day, and I am not feeling worried. I feel fine.
"Muffine," I say, and excuse the situational comedy.
The problem of patience is that there are always different, and changing, reasons to act, or otherwise. This means that, unless we do not want to explode with anxiety, then we must learn to evaluate situations quickly.
One way is to meditate. By sitting quietly, comfortably, and without disturbances, any person is able to reflect on their thoughts. By using concentration and effort, we can achieve clear conclusions, about the choices we want to make, and the risks we want to take.
People use different methods, to handle their own impatience and anxiety. It could be beer or weed, and online chat, on websites or through games.
Click for a simple ganja-chai recipe.
Sadly, it seems that external methods have serious drawbacks. Weed interferes with the concentration required to reflect. Beer disorients the mind, so that decisions are only impulsive. Chats encourage an impractical, detached from reality perspective.
Without patience, all we have left is irritations, and how we respond to them. We do not develop strategy and wisdom.
However, if we wait for understanding to broil, then we win the ability to achieve our mind's goals, and the manifestation of our dreams; or rather, a life of reaching towards.
Back at the interstellar mesh of space; the material from which the entire universe was formed; the source of all matter; the realization of all sources; a fleet of Unspeakables held parley with the Ancients; those who had escaped the galaxy, which now hosts the Coalition; their true nemesis.
"My lord," began the foremost Unspeakable, a vague shape, hardly occupying any space. "We have," the thing paused to cough, and the time display, inside the Elder Ancient's enclosed helmet, moved back a year, blurred, and returned to normal. The Elder shuffled his feet uncomfortably. He suspected that this meeting was a very bad idea. He had no choice. He had his orders. "We have started the invasion of the Coalition. Our devices have yet to identify any significant life forms."
"You have not reached their home planet? The red one?" Asked the Elder.
"Red?" Asked back the foremost.
A classical depiction of an alien invasion.
"Red. I mean, their base of operations. Where they dwell and reproduce," explained the Elder, lifting its' massive claw in the general direction of Earth, although no eyes seemed to follow his gesture.
"We have already reached their home planet, and it is entirely under our jurisdiction now," answered the foremost. Another voice, not dissimilar to the previous, spoke from behind the vague shape.
"We have already begun preparation to return to our own ventures, now that this war is through," it informed the Elder.
"None of our scouts have seen your attack," the Elder responded, patiently. Patience was, after all, the most venerated ideal of the Ancients. "We have no evidence of your conquest, my," the Elder hesitated, as one of his subordinates shouted, "great allies!" The Elder nodded and continued, "my great ally."
The fact of the matter was that the Unspeakables have indeed reached and conquered the planet Earth - the same, one and only. The Unspeakables had actually already taken over the entire galaxy of the Coalition, and any resistance was evidently futile. Other than a few roaming spirits, which actually had no claim on those planets, there was no resistance, at all. This fact had not surprised the Unspeakables. Their inferior allies, creatures of mere flesh, found the greatest hurdles in the easiest of challenges.
As a matter of personal interest and research, the Unspeakables have decided to leave behind a query - a platoon of their order, so that they could document their explorations. The inferior creatures that swarmed this galaxy were considered harmless, and thus were given a short explanation, in regards to who, and what, the Unspeakables were.
"We are," began, reassuringly, the first among equals, leading member of the community, Zata Ha Ha Ha Lahar, as most creatures near by began imploding, in quick succession, "the superior beings of the third galaxy, of this same universe."
By the time the introduction of the Unspeakables was over, a large segment of planet Earth was quarantined, by the humans, and extreme measures were taken, in order to shield any further repercussions.
After acts of aggression failed to make any impact on the intruders - what seemed a bulk of shadowy plasma, the Coalition unanimously decided to cover the threat with stuff. Anything. From metals, to glass and plastic, and even some biological scraps, that may, or may not, stop the ensuing destruction of living tissue, emanating from their guests.
There were those who had different devices recording the event. It took only three days for the message to be decoded and translated. Again, unanimously, the Coalition had decided to declare the Unspeakables, thus named, "our greatest ally and friend." No one dared to say otherwise.
This is the second segment, in this now expanding science-fiction satire universe. Please, check back again, for the next installment in the series.
