From:
thangolossus@gmail.com
On Thu, 16 Nov 2017 02:45:09 -0000, slider <
slider@nanashram.com>
wrote:
On Thu, 16 Nov 2017 01:48:48 -0000, thang ornerythinchus ><thangolossus@gmail.com> wrote:
On Wed, 15 Nov 2017 22:03:32 -0000, slider <slider@nanashram.com>
wrote:
On Wed, 15 Nov 2017 10:46:39 -0000, thang ornerythinchus
<thangolossus@gmail.com> wrote:
DO YOU WANT TO HEAR THE MOST EPIC STORY EVER?
A long time ago the atoms in your body were spread across trillions of >>>> kilometers of otherwise empty space. Billions of years in the past
there was no hint that they would eventually come to be configured as
your eyes, your skin, your hair, your bones or the 86 billion neurons
of your brain. Many of these atoms came from deep inside a
star—perhaps several stars, themselves separated by many more
trillions of kilometers.
As these stars exploded, they hurled parts of themselves outward in a
flood of scorching gas that filled a small part of one galaxy out of
hundreds of billions of other galaxies, arrayed throughout a gaping
span of space and time almost a trillion trillion kilometers across.
Some of these atoms have been in the shell of a trilobite, perhaps
thousands of trilobites. Since then, they’ve been in tentacles,
roots, feet, wings, blood, and trillions, quadrillions of bacteria in
between. Some have floated in the eyes of creatures that once
looked out across the landscapes of 100 million years ago. Yet others
have nestled in the yolks of dinosaur eggs or hung in the exhaled
breath of a panting creature in the depths of an ice age. For others,
this is their first time settling into a living organism, having
drifted through eons in oceans and clouds, part of a trillion
raindrops or a billion snowflakes. Now, at this instant, they are all
here, making you.
### - good grief thang; put it away man! - put it away! :)))
lol every now and again, without any prompting, he gets his nob out??
ahahaha... ffs put it away! :)
(slider shudders... ewww)
Apologies I left the citation out. Straight out of the most recent
Scientific American, an excerpt from a book by an esteemed
cosmologist. Here's the citation:
Adapted from The Zoomable Universe: An Epic Tour Through Cosmic Scale,
from Almost Everything to Nearly Nothing, by Caleb Scharf, with
illustrations by Ron Miller, by arrangement with Scientific
American/Farrar, Straus and Giroux (US), Atlantic Books (UK), Cheers
Publishing Company (China). Text copyright © 2017 by Caleb Scharf;
illustrations copyright © 2017 by Ron Miller. All rights reserved.
I would never pretend such excellent prose was my own invention. I'm
very sorry to have misled you :)
### - you were getting *someone else's* nob out?? (cracking up hehehe...)
(slider shudders even more? ewww!)
point was (still laffing...) 'regardless' of WHO's nob it was/IS; it's the >fiddling with it in 'public' that i expressly object to?? (ahahaha...)
(you know what am saying + have accused you of such wanking (i.e., mental >masturbation) in public before, it's just that every now and again,
without any warning whatsoever, you go-off into this 'scale of the
universe' thingy with strings of 'telephone numbers' attached, and start >drooling over it??
(laughing...) it's actually a very 'male' thing? women don't generally do
it at all unless specifically trained in that direction, whereas men just >love to talk in telephone numbers as though that makes it (and them!) all >somehow more important, a typically male affectation... a poet, however, >would laugh at/shun all that like the proverbial plague...
You're not making much sense. Why would the views of a poet conflict
with the reality I just cited? It's real slider, sorry about that but
you need to accept reality. You can't spend a lifetime avoiding
reality, that's no good at all for your mental health. Lapsing into
what you think is some sort of crass humour won't make it go away
either. You need to try to meld your ideas with the realities
surrounding you, the realities that *are* you.
Apart from that, as I said, I don't understand what you're trying to
say.
PS. on another note: i gave you paul dirac just 'before' you asked 'me' to >analyse something, remember? in fact, your demand for an analysis was a >direct reaction to it??
and i brought it up again more recently because you totally ignored my
first request!
Look I've raised Dirac a few times in past threads as well, but I'll
be buggered if I'm going to look for them. Stop defending all the
time. Just fucking agree when reality hits you in the face ok? Your
most recent post was 2 days after I responded in this thread and you
made allusions to your Dirac post in your response to my post. Unless
I have ESP I couldn't be aware of your Dirac post because
space-time-matter hadn't been created yet in which that post could
occur :)
a request that i suggested would help you to understand not only me and my >particular style but poetry in general too! but which you duly ignored
only to carry-on in exactly the same vein as before albeit now in another >thread altogether! (infuriating because you just ignored my original
answer cryptic though it (and poetry) is!)
Nope. I'm going to respond to your post on 15 November. I told you
so. I need to have time to think first.
paul dirac WAS my original answer/explanation to you on ALL that, ok?
iow: am TRYING, in a very 'real' way, to GIVE you... poetry!
imho THE most difficult (and highest) subject of all to understand/master
;)
Yes, mein Zen master :)
(i did what you asked me AND so proved that i 'could' indeed write (and
thus think) like that, in spite your accusations to the contrary of my
being unable to do so! and then there you are now accusing of the same
thing again even 'after i did your... analysis! - iow: if/when i write
like that it's quite obviously then... deliberate!) ;)
I've accused you of nothing. I just refuse to accept carte blanche
whatever you post - while some of it I do accept.
Slider, I *get* poetry. I'm also not stuck on any particular period
or type or genre. It it appeals to me, I like it. I *get* music too,
and I *get* science and history and literature and painting and
artforms and abstraction and everything else.
None of that means I have to abandon my means of survival, my comforts
or my views of capitalism or adaptation or situational awareness or
anything aligned with any of that. They are not mutually exclusive.
Here's a beautiful Irish poem about war written by a fellow about a
man who died in WW1 - it's not at all abstract and it's beauty is
equal to volumes and it sends my mind soaring. It's been analysed to
death but I suggest you discount the analyses and criticisms and just
let it take your mind, or your mind take it, wherever.
An Irish Airman foresees his Death
By William Butler Yeats
I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.
Or for music, try old time Cajun:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9fs12_-ihPY&list=RDVjnWLaSi7WE&index=9
(been to New Orleans so I'm qualified :)
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