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AncientHippie
Member
since 2009-10-15
Posts 411
Surfing the Cosmic Flow

0 posted 2009-10-30 11:05 AM




Grey O'Ryan woke in a state of panic induced by his terrible dreams.  A sheen of cold sweat covered his body, and had dampened his bed.  He lay there, trying to collect his thoughts, and quiet the adrenalin rush his dreams had brought on.

The dreams were always similar in content, and had been occurring since he was a child.  Recently, however, they had been increasing in both frequency and emotion.  In these dreams the colours were not quite right, and, often were of hues that he had never seen before.  The central figure in the dreams was not defined by a body of any sort, but rather by a feeling of intense sadness.  Grey knew that this pivotal character was somehow intricately connected with him, with his life and his future.

The sheer emotional weight of the character's sadness and hopelessness always made Grey, in an observer role in this dream, feel overwhelmed, depressed and spiritually drained.  His studies, at Halifax's St. Mary's University, were suffering.  The book-work connected with his Political Science major was a mental load at best, but with the effect of his dreams Grey felt that he was unable to give his best to his academic pursuits.

Grey had spoken at length with his mother, at the family home in Glace Bay, on Cape Breton Island, and she seemed to feel that the dreams were connected to his Celtic and genetic heritage.  Magna O'Ryan was a latter-day Pagan, and had devoted her life to the study of pagan and ancient Celtic rituals and myths.  Magna was the seventh, and last, daughter in the family of Eireann Burke, herself a seventh daughter.

Magna had explained often to Grey her theory that the myth about the seventh son of a seventh son having strong psychic ability was the product of a male-dominated society changing the myth to detract from the truth.  She believed that the Celts had been a matriarchal society, and the psychic gift was, in the past, practised and held by the women, not the men, of the Celtic septs.

She tried to calm Grey's concern by assuring him that the emotional intensity of the dreams would diminish in time, and, in the interim, advised him to try to discern the message that the dreams were trying to convey.  Magna was convinced that there was an important message trying to reach Grey from his unconscious mind.

Grey dressed, had a light breakfast, and headed out for his daily run around the Halifax Commons.  The day was foggy and damp, and added a gloomy accent to his already negatively charged emotional state.  His run did little to lift his spirits.

Back at his flat, he sipped his coffee and read the daily paper.  As usual, most of the news was depressing: a swarming in north-end Halifax, an armed robbery, with violence, in neighbouring Dartmouth, corruption at the highest levels of the United Nations, and the increasing quagmire of the United States involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Grey had long admired parts of the Hippie movement of the Sixties, and found it amazing that such a diverse group of young people had been able to change established society in so many ways.  He looked on the Movement as sort of a modern Children's Crusade, and, with the ongoing bad news a daily occurrence now, he often wished for a return to the peace and love of a gentler time.

                    **********

In a reality in a different dimension of Time-Space, where all the parameters of our reality are not applicable, there exists/existed/will exist a young entity who is extremely disturbed.  His keepers have him sedated, and monitor his progress constantly.  This youthful "god" had been, prior to his sedation, responsible for the destruction of almost countless realities containing billions of various beings.  His keepers posited that the medication would eventually cure him, and deemed his incarceration necessary for the Cosmic Good.

The immature entity moans in his troubled sleep.  His vivid dreams frighten him, causing him to toss and perspire.  He dreams of a small, beautiful green planet with blue oceans and wondrous white clouds.  The tenants of this planet are exceedingly violent, and their technological development is based upon inventing new and unique ways to plunder their planet, or to wreak destruction upon their fellow beings.  He "sees" through the eyes and mind of a young Canadian man named Grey O'Ryan.  In the entity's reality, this sharing of the senses is accomplished through a common act called harmonic kinship.  The harmonic feedback engendered by this act occurring between realities is, however, driving both of the participants, host and parasite, into severe and irreversible psychoses.

                    **********

Grey O'Ryan woke crying bitter tears.  His depression surrounded him as a dark and dense tangible cloud.  Running to the kitchen, he violently opened the knife drawer, before stabbing at his body, and running, screaming, into the early morning street.

Fast-acting paramedics were able to stabilise the young man's vitals before the ambulance reached the QE II Medical Centre Emergency room.  Before the day was out, he would be transferred to the Psychiatric Ward for confinement and Psych evaluation.

His doctors are concerned about his screaming, and the ranting during which the young man shrieks incessantly, "The god is crazy, he's crazy, he's crazy, and he's killing us all... killing us all... killing us... killing..."

                    **********

The young god screams once, and awakes.  His keepers rush into his room, but are too late: the crazy god has willed himself out of existence.

Meanwhile, far away in time, space, phase, and reality, a small green planet ceases to exist.  And never really did.

                    **********

"We are stardust:  we are golden:  and we've got to get ourselves back to the garden."  --Joni Mitchell "Woodstock"

© Copyright 2009 James D. Fanning - All Rights Reserved
GBride
Senior Member
since 2009-07-02
Posts 538

1 posted 2009-10-30 07:27 PM


"clouds are ice cream castles in the the air.
They are feathered canyons everywhere.
I've looked at life that way.
But now they only block the sun
they rain they snow on everyone."
"It's clouds illusions I recall, I didn't know clouds at all."
It's Friday evening here in Nebraska 06:15 pm as I sit at the dinner table typing.
Crop prices are down, and there is too much rain to get into the fields to harvest. So I have time on my hands.
Isn't it a wonder that we can be so far apart: different countries, and communicate to effortlessly.
In 1956 Stuart Hampshire wrote that Descart's essay on doubt was faulty. "I think therefore I am." Hampshire asked how did Descart know he was thinking and how did he know there was a part the universe that could be called "I".
The best Descart could say is something is going on.
Carl Popper's writings may be complex but they can be brought down to a thumbnail by saying very little can be proved.
Mais non? Have I oversimplified? Have I used reductionism carelessly?
I believe most complex ideas can be summed up in simple fashion without too much distortion. Too much being relative itself.
I may work in the dirt, but I can still use the library. Well, not right now as I owe them $6. But that will soon be remedied.
You make me think. I'm going to be reading everything that you write.

AncientHippie
Member
since 2009-10-15
Posts 411
Surfing the Cosmic Flow
2 posted 2009-10-31 08:26 AM


Good morning, GBride.  Glad to have your very welcome comments.  Thanks for the quote from "Clouds"... always one of my favourites.  I would have thought the Rene Descartes would have responded to Hampshire (had he the opportunity)with the caveat that, in light of "cognito ergo sum" it would then follow that in each individual reality the Universe and all existence must, of course, be subjective and egocentric.  Naturally Hampshire did not have to worry about a response from our dead Rene.  I have always felt Descarte just a tad too egocentric...he would have done well to espoused some of his contemporary Thomas Hobbes' political philosophy to turn his thoughts more outward.
Just love this conversation.  Off to get my fresh ground coffee.
Very kindest regards
Jim

"We are stardust:  we are golden:  and we've got to get ourselves back to the garden."  --Joni Mitchell "Woodstock"

kindredspirit
Member
since 2009-05-19
Posts 156

3 posted 2009-11-03 12:04 PM


AncientHippie- This is an unforgettable write, one that left an impression on my psyche that will not soon fade. The human race is using valuable knowledge in an ignorant and destructive manner, all the while wasting the potential of what could be, but is not. You portray this beautifully.

-Kara

AncientHippie
Member
since 2009-10-15
Posts 411
Surfing the Cosmic Flow
4 posted 2009-11-03 05:38 PM


Kara:  We have the technology, we have the food, we have the money, but we consistently neglect to instruct our politicians to do the right thing.  We could be on the brink of a New Renaissance, but instead we settle for the same old same old. Sigh.  It seems so obvious.  I get frustrated.
Namaste, and
Peace
Jim

"We are stardust:  we are golden:  and we've got to get ourselves back to the garden."  --Joni Mitchell "Woodstock"

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