evolved?

how does anything -- god, allah, evolution, eru -- account for tigers? snapdragons? pachelbel's canon in d? how can anyone explain, in any way that's even remotely meaningful, sentences parsed? the mona lisa? raspberry-banana gluten-free high-fibre muffins? juicy mullet cinnamon gum?

you?

let there be [and it was good]

[the creation myth chapter opening]



Before sunrise, before shadow, before tyranny and war, before love, and peace, and truths, before deceit, and life, and death, before time itself, there was a Tone. It was low, static, empty; it crept through the fabric of sullen void, waiting. Mæto, silent, ponderous, still, crouched at the edge of the abyss, peering down into the shallows and depths of heavy solitude. The Tone, flat, lay as if weighted by bricks of lead, writhing against its clutching bonds.

For a moment, an hour, an eternity, Mæto stared blindly into the teeming masses of empty space, searching. A solitary tear welled, slowly, slowly, or in an instant, and fell into the abyss, fell endless leagues, and an echo began. The Tone, awakened, became a thin hum. Trapped in the limitless confines of potential, it grew, as yet unaware of endings, focused only on beginnings. It grew, building and building until it began to reverberate against itself. It climbed, swelling, until a second Tone emerged, higher and faster than the first. They continued together, for an instant and an eternity, until finally (or right away), they clashed and clashed and clashed with each other, and there was endings. Each echoed off of the other, warring for space in the infinitely dark abyss. Thus, there was Dissonance.

With Dissonance, came Shadow, welling and pooling, caressing the viscous borders of Dissonance; and with Shadow came Light, flighty, elusive, magnetic; and the Light waged war with the Shadow, an epic battle, the epic battle, pulsing, pushing, struggling, shattering it into millions of fragments. Light bled through the fragments, dripping slowly past the Dissonance, until it had soaked through, leaving Shadow tainted and murky. They fell from the shaking of sound, faster than the tear, and caught it, writhed in its splendour for a fraction of an eternity, then bounced back up through the tumult of sound. The Light, and Shadow, and Sound rushed outward, and collided against the walls of the abyss, becoming Notes and Colours.

As they collided from the walls and rushed back inward, they began to encounter each other, sometimes splintering, sometimes merging, and Mæto heard a swelling Melody that danced on the surface of the Tone. The elusive Melody continued to kiss, and wrestle, and play; the colours to merge, and throb, and dissipate; and each pushed and pulled on the other until they mounted a Crescendo.

Mæto clapped, once, as a gong ringing through an empty stadium, and shattered the cresting wave. It tumbled over itself, a riot of startled colours and sounds, and collapsed into stillness and dark.

The silence was heavy, rich, strained; it tasted, to Mæto, of the as yet unimagined scent of sodden leaves in the waning of winter, when the snows have corroded and eroded the earth and rot is ripe in the air. Then there was Loneliness, and Mæto shuddered pathetically, for the taste was of chill and solitude; the heaving gasps of one about to drown and leave behind gaping absence.

Struggling, reaching, Mæto croaked, then cried out, then moaned. The Melody shook, then lay still. Mæto, in despair, hurled curses down into the darkness, and thus was Evil created in the hollow depths; the Melody’s sharp outcry of pain mingled with the curses, curling in an embrace of terrible passion. Overcome by repentance, Mæto sat, still, quiet, absorbing the shock waves of the curses that left Evil slinking below and around the Melody. Finally, conquered by tragedy, and longing, Mæto sang a mournful haunting to the crumpled Melody, subduing the curses with weeping. At first it seemed that nothing happened, but then Mæto began to hear a faint, distant pulse. It gradually grew, until the Melody feebly began to stir again, alternately whimpering weakly and self-soothing. It rose, slowly, gradually, rebuilding itself from the inside; and while the higher, clashing Tone still pushed lightly against the first, making it tremble slightly, the Melody was now twined in the steady branches of Mæto’s song, and its sinews could no longer be shattered, scattered, and lost.

So began the Hive, which pulsed with flickering white light, heady red glows, and sinuous rills of blue and green. Stained with droplets of violet, it echoed the song of Mæto, weakly at first, obediently. But as it pulsed into strength, light airy thrills began to flicker on the edges of the Melody. These were soon followed by reedy whispers and a deep, alto pulse, lapping gently through the core. The flickerings began as idle improvisations, trilling and skipping across the entire range of sound, distracting from the Song. Then, each flicker found a pattern, to complement the sinewy heart of the Melody. These patterns became stronger, and louder, as more of the flickerings joined each other, expanding the sounds. Thus was Harmony recreated, rediscovered, reimagined, and thus was Cacophony resolved.

But the memory remained of the echoing Clap, and the simple freedom that had preceded it, and a dissonance arose from the heart of the Hive.

this little light of mine

61. Chung Fu / Inner Truth

above SUN THE GENTLE, WIND
below TUI THE JOYOUS, LAKE

The wind blows over the lake and stirs the surface of the water. Thus visible
effects of the invisible manifest themselves. The hexagram consists of firm
lines above and below, while it is open in the center. This indicates a heart
free of prejudices and therefore open to truth. On the other hand, each of the
two trigrams has a firm line in the middle; this indicates the force of inner
truth in the influences they present.
The attributes of the two trigrams are: above, gentleness, forbearance
toward inferiors; below, joyousness in obeying superiors. Such conditions
create the basis of a mutual confidence that makes achievements possible.
The character of fu ("truth") is actually the picture of a bird's foot over a
fledgling. It suggests the idea of brooding. An egg is hollow. The light-giving
power must work to quicken it from outside, but there must be a germ of life
within, if life is to be awakened. Far-reaching speculations can be linked with
these ideas.

THE JUDGMENT

INNER TRUTH. Pigs and fishes.
Good fortune.
It furthers one to cross the great water.
Perseverance furthers.

Pigs and fishes are the least intelligent of all animals and therefore the most
difficult to influence. The force of inner truth must grow great indeed before
its influence can extend to such creatures. In dealing with persons as
intractable and as difficult to influence as a pig or a fish, the whole secret of
success depends on finding the right way of approach. One must first rid
oneself of all prejudice and, so to speak, let the psyche of the other person act
on one without restraint. Then one will establish contact with him,
understand and gain power over him. When a door has thus been opened,
the force of one's personality will influence him. If in this way one finds no
obstacles insurmountable, one can undertake even the most dangerous
things, such as crossing the great water, and succeed.
But it is important to understand upon what the force inner truth depends.
This force is not identical with simple intimacy or a secret bond. Close ties
may exist also among thieves; it is true that such a bond acts as a force but,
since it is not invincible, it does not bring good fortune. All association on
the basis of common interests holds only up to a certain point. Where the
community of interest ceases, the holding together ceases also, and the closest
friendship often changes into hate. Only when the bond is based on what is
right, on steadfastness, will it remain so firm that it triumphs over
everything.

THE IMAGE

Wind over lake: the image of INNER TRUTH.
Thus the superior man discusses criminal cases
In order to delay executions.

Wind stirs water by penetrating it. Thus the superior man, when obliged to
judge the mistakes of men, tries to penetrate their minds with understanding,
in order to gain a sympathetic appreciation of the circumstances. In ancient
China, the entire administration of justice was guided by this principle. A
deep understanding that knows how to pardon was considered the highest
form of justice. This system was not without success, for its aim was to make
so strong a moral impression that there was no reason to fear abuse of such
mildness. For it sprang not from weakness but from a superior clarity.

THE LINES

Nine at the beginning means:
Being prepared brings good fortune.
If there are secret designs, it is disquieting.

The force of inner truth depends chiefly on inner stability and preparedness.
From this state of mind springs the correct attitude toward the outer world.
But if a man should try to cultivate secret relationships of a special sort, it
would deprive him of his inner independence. The more reliance he places
on the support of others, the more uneasy and anxious he will become as to
whether these secret ties are really tenable. In this way inner peace and the
force of inner truth are lost.

Nine in the second place means:
A crane calling in the shade.
Its young answers it.
I have a good goblet.
I will share it with you.

This refers to the involuntary influence of a man's inner being upon persons
of kindred spirit. The crane need not show itself on a high hill. It may be
quite hidden when it sounds its call; yet its young will hear its not, will
recognize it and give answer. Where there is a joyous mood, there a comrade
will appear to share a glass of wine.
This is the echo awakened in men through spiritual attraction. Whenever
a feeling is voiced with truth and frankness, whenever a deed is the clear
expression of sentiment, a mysterious and far-reaching influence is exerted.
At first it acts on those who are inwardly receptive. But the circle grows larger
and larger. The root of all influence lies in one's own inner being: given true
and vigorous expression in word and deed, its effect is great. The effect is but
the reflection of something that emanates from one's own heart. Any
deliberate intention of an effect would only destroy the possibility of
producing it. Confucius says about this line:

The superior man abides in his room. If his words are well spoken, he meets
with assent at a distance of more than a thousand miles. How much more
then from near by! If the superior man abides in his room and his words are
not well spoken, he meets with contradiction at a distance of more than a
thousand miles. How much more then from near by! Words go forth from
one's own person and exert their influence on men. Deeds are born close at
hand and become visible far away. Words and deeds are the hinge and
bowspring of the superior man. As hinge and bowspring move, they bring
honor or disgrace. Through words and deeds the superior man moves
heaven and earth . Must one not, then, be cautious?

Six in the third place means:
He finds a comrade.
Now he beats the drum, now he stops.
Now he sobs, now he sings.

Here the source of a man's strength lies not in himself but in his relation to
other people. No matter how close to them he may be, if his center of gravity
depends on them, he is inevitably tossed to and fro between joy and sorrow.
Rejoicing to high heaven, then sad unto death-this is the fate of those who
depend upon an inner accord with other persons whom they love. Here we
have only the statement of the law that this is so. Whether this condition is
felt to be an affliction of the supreme happiness of love, is left to the
subjective verdict of the person concerned.

Six in the fourth place means:
The moon nearly at the full.
The team horse goes astray.
No blame.

To intensify the power of inner truth, a man must always turn to his
superior, from whom he can receive enlightenment as the moon receives
light form the sun. However, this requires a certain humility, like that of the
moon when it is not yet quite full. At the moment when the moon becomes
full and stands directly opposite the sun, it begins to wane. Just as on the one
hand we must be humble and reverent when face to face with the source of
enlightenment, so likewise must we on the other renounce factionalism
among men. Only be pursuing one's course like a horse that goes straight
ahead without looking sidewise at its mate, can one retain the inner freedom
that helps one onward.

° Nine in the fifth place means:
He possesses truth, which links together.
No blame.

This describes the ruler who holds all elements together by the power of his
personality. Only when the strength of his character is so ample that he can
influence all who are subject to him, is he as he needs to be. The power of
suggestion must emanate from the ruler. It will firmly knit together and
unite all his adherents. Without this central force, all external unity is only
deception and breaks down at the decisive moment.

Nine at the top means:
Cockcrow penetrating to heaven.
Perseverance brings misfortune.

The cock is dependable. It crows at dawn. But it cannot itself fly to heaven. It
just crows. A man may count on mere words to awaken faith. This may
succeed now and then, but if persisted in, it will have bad consequences.
index

ifs, ands, and buts

This could be my little
book about love
if I wrote it--

Yeah, I guess so. The writing seems to require a sort of living that I'm as yet unwilling to succumb to, though. Emotional availability, what? Unconvincing, my friend. Unconvincing. And then she says, "You don't want to," and I scoff, secretly lining my cilia in tangled knots to tie in the volcanic infection that pants for release. Maybe she's right, whatever that means. But what does that matter? Lots of dark and twisties do it anyway. They shatter repeatedly, silently, and it doesn't make much of a difference in the grand scheme, other than to up the contrast and saturation of beauty and joy...so fuck. Sliver away, m'dear. Sliver away.

I heard of a man
who says words so beautifully
that if he only speaks their name
women give themselves to him.

If I am dumb beside your body
while silence blossoms like tumors on our lips.
it is because I hear a man climb stairs and clear his throat outside the door.

urban forager

I really like this term, "urban forage." There's so much in it; if we can learn to forage in urbanity, we will start to make better use of the waste that oozes from the pores of the city. It's simple action, and with the crumbling economy, it makes sense to look again at what is already there, begging to be used. Begging to be appreciated.

ACT! went foraging on Thursday last, collecting foodstuffs and turning them into a delicious, if rather scattered and oddly timed, meal to share with each other and with another friend. There's so much possibility here for act!ve solutions addressing problems of social ecojustice. Tiny steps made by a tiny group to contribute to a staggering dilemma, adding up by influence and confluence. Fuck affluence; make love to it, get it to relax and share, to play. Make integration sexy.

What's next? A foraged mural of interconnected tiny scraps of Victoria. Ideas?