Monday, February 15, 2010

Here's to...

Here's to all the letters I never wrote,
to all those I tore up instead.
Here's to the tucked away note,
the one you never read.
Here's to the death of us,
the flicker to end in the wind.
Here's to what I know thus,
to never being a friend.
Here's to what was my love,
"that's life," as they say.
Here's to giving it all to the God of
the life, the truth, the way.
Here's to being lost, confused, but okay.
Here's to hoping I didn't go astray.


Cheers,
B

Thursday, February 11, 2010

[Unfinished] Compilation Effect II

Unfinished
------------------------------------------

[11 February 2010]
Thursday, Monday>>Dark:30
Subject: Fleet of Bottles
CC: D.E. Machina (demachina777@mail.com), ...


>>>Available Tidbits<<<

>>1 >>2
>>3 >>4
>>5 >>6


Data Record XV
Fools. We came for fortune and knowledge, but we received disaster and fell prey to the ignorance that avarice affords the young and stupid. Now we find ourselves marooned, and all hands are at the ready to do the work we've come to do. I know not whether our fear is more of the Cap'n or what lurks within the jungle's dark heart. Either way we blister and bleed to escape something. Father, hear our cry for help.

-D.E. Machina
Back






POSTED
Henceforth all bilgetalk and gossiping concerning the plight current state is forbidden. Reg'lar work hours are expected. Any man caught arousing fear or concern amidst the crew will be given over to Admiral Matter and his nine-tails.
Back






Ship Fiddler's Notes
Motivate through the toil, draw attention away from state. Cap'n's orders to give temp. pleasure till escape possible, till then keep mind off. Feel notes through, need lyrics esp. Anyway out fine, hands dry and cracking from work.
Song Ideas:

Sweatin' blood, breathin' rum,
blistered thoughts, speech gone numb,
hopeless hands, battered backs,
sleepless tents, fearful axe.
Cut and chop and clip and cleave,
to find what it is the gods did leave.
Perhaps a song a map a word or track,
to save our souls and bring us back,
to no more feed our shovels loam,
return to a dream that we call home.

Lovely lady, seductive siren,
our love is in the stars like Chiron.
Sing me nocturne till dreams take me away,
till my fears your sweet hymn will allay.
Your wish is my word, my work, my way.
Your happiness my humble, hallowed hope.
So work you men! Work till dusk!
Work like only tooth, claw, or tusk-
can drag you away from this your goal,
for when it ends you can return your soul,
to your well beloved lady of the dawn,
to tell of the strife you have undergone,
but to see her starlit eyes once more,
to tell her you leave it to other men to explore.

Give it to the whip,
give it to the sun,
give it to the captain,
let no man turn and run.
Give it to your mate,
give it to the sea,
give it to your neighbor,
let no man deny this decree.
Give it to the jungle,
give it to the night,
give it to the gods,
let no man damn the light.





Cap'n's Log; Entry XIII
My men have toiled for days now after some shadow of hope. They know not for what we seek, and I fear to tell them lest they realize they're hope be in nothing rather than something. I've instructed the fiddler to play by day rather than be another hand at the shovel. A spruce of melody by day and nocturne by night will keep their hope in place until we can find some sign of direction.
Back







Data Record XIX
The search continues. To the unobservant it would seem sunlight causes cheer to our men, and moonlight - hysteria. Something deep within the jungle recesses beats by dimlit starlight. Only the moonlight and the wild creatures have gazed upon whatever this thing is. As for us mortals, we sit in tents mumbling prayers from fear. We came upon a wrapped up book today which the Cap'n insisted on taking to his own quarters regardless of my claim to it as the camp scholar.





Cap'n's Log; Entry XIV

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Foundation

What is the foundation of my belief in God.
Is it reason or faith?
If I am to say it is faith, then I must ask myself by what faculty I come to acknowledge such things.
For I must understand what it is I mean in saying "I believe in God."
But this leads me to some faith in my ability to make coherent statements with consistent words.
Naturally consistency is in the realm of reason though.
Ad infinitum.

I begin with some definitions.
It would seem there are varying degrees of reason.
In one manner I might say it is deductive reasoning, in another something practical, further still the ability to simply identify a thing.
Now this last is the thing of which I speak when I say reason as a foundation,
for I must identify a thing before I might speak of it.
But in merely answering these questions I've stated I must begin with definitions.
Of course these definitions might have this type of faith in my words meaning something.
And even my beginning falls into the trap which prefaced the definitions.
It would seem in order to even ask the question I must first answer it.

And in what way does an answer preface a question?
I know of none, and if something exists which I might call an answer to a question, then I've contradicted what I mean when I say answer and question,
for surely I say an answer by definition follows from a question.
E.G. I might say, "Brown." With the absence of the question the word "brown" loses status as an answer though, and merely becomes a word, for it shows me nothing about some point of confusion which I wished to clear up.

Of course one might get caught up in the words literally "question" and "answer" --
a fool's errand,
for I might have called them "Neutryssil" and "Slenderose," respectively, but the word is defined so that the understanding in my mind is conveyed, not that the sounds rolling off my tongue have intrinsic meaning.
So that when I say "question or Neutryssil" you understand I mean something which I know not about a thing but desire otherwise, and "answer or Slenderose" to mean that thing which will bring knowing which I desire about the thing I know not.
Of course the fool might even question meaning of the words contained within the definitions,
but then they posit an ad infinitum need for definitions,
and this of course makes their pointing out "problems" to be self-refuting,
for the one who rejects language, ought not to use it,
otherwise they have no refutation, for they themselves make no sense,
according to their own conclusion.

So it would seem language is foundational.
This reasoning at an identification level is foundational.
And that faith is foundational.
Surely they cannot all be foundational,
for I am but one man,
and while I have parts,
they must come together on a single foundation.

For language, it is a conclusion drawn from lower reasoning,
so I might come now back to faith or reason.
Yet the question remains:
I believe in God - faith
What's God? - reason
God is... - reason
Ah...
And of this first thing...what proof have we?
Thus we arrive at the colloquial definition:
to believe without evidence.

Some first belief from which all else flows.
All have it.
Though some prefer other terms, so as not to appear...
better...objective...[chuckle]
axiom, assumption, faith, whoops...
even the strictest empiricist must admit,
the assumption that everything that is, can be proven empirically,
is itself not empirical, and thus cannot be proven empirically,
lest they become circular in their reasoning.
As this is absurd, the reasonable will admit the belief isn't empirical.
So call this first belief what you will,
but know the meaning conveyed via mind is the same.
And the systems of beliefs we build, all are only as strong,
or obtain such characteristics, as the foundation allows.

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for,
the evidence of things not seen.
But what is the meaning of this word "evidence,"
given the text it is either evidence of the unseen,
or evidence of things hoped for.
Clearly not the former,
for evidence and unseen are contradictory.
[Edit: Evidence as seen by an empiricist]
For "hoped for" references possibility,
and not necessarily actuality.

Strange thing to say.
For we do say God's existence is necessary.
We say contradictions are as such,
because they admit to no possibility,
that is, they're impossible.
And whatever is impossible,
is so because it is contradictory.
We define God as that with no limits,
so there would exist nothing with limits,
which might limit it.
Thus God is a possibility,
even in all worlds.
Doesn't say He exists though.
Of course we can hold the assumption,
He is merely a possibility and not in actuality,
but as that with no limits,
it would be a limitation to be in possibility and not actualiy,
thus He must necessarily exist,
in any world you want to posit.
Lest of course you wish to say,
that with no limits has limits.
Heh heh heh...

But this first definition of God,
perhaps is the faith,
this substance of things hoped for.
While the educated man can entertain ideas without accepting,
many will not.
Such a behavior does not constitute irrationality,
rather accepting definitions and assumptions,
and the not accepting comes down to showing--
they lead to contradiction.
So long as they are consistent,
nothing irrational can be said about them,
and we say the person's beliefs are...
rational, consistent, understandable, legitimate.
But this fight against faith,
and calling one's own axioms or assumptions,
a fool's errand.
Merely children throwing feces at one another and screaming.

And now I seem to insist on some reasonable statement about which I have faith,
then that the statement's formulation is of some lower form of reasoning, identification.
And this of course is the state of the mind, of which words allow expression.
There is some first willing of some belief.
I begin with "GOD,"
then follow it with "is."
As hard as I may,
my reason seems to preface my faith,
at all turns.

Yet something still lurks,
swimming along the surface,
like hot embers on my tongue,
burns to be released.
These ideas try to form argument,
but I order them wrongly.
The pieces are here,
and I see the conclusion is close.
If I had but a moment more,
I would be ready to begin--
having thought long,
would complete it with diligence,
and quickness of action.

Something about the will.
This is going to drive me mad.

Of course it seems quite silly to say,
the foundation of my faith is faith,
lest I too go into an infinite regress,
leaving me with reason.
But something about this seems inconsistent
with Scripture.
Stranger and stranger still.
But I didn't say faith in the beginning,
I made sure to say "belief in,"
the good ole craedo en.

So is it that I reason first or have faith in some fact?
I might define God,
and come to faith via argument,
but that's not how I came to mine.
It simply was,
as long as I remember.
I might say I simply came to the idea,
I might say my parents put it into my head,
either way it is some initial definition,
from which I build up a way of life.
It isn't until I come to an age of reason,
that I might see if it is consistent.
This writing as proof,
it survived my trial by fire.
Now I can accept it on a new level,
and submit myself to its trials.

Anyway, yes,
something about the will,
of which I haven't quite worked out.

End post; 12:58
Daylong Meditations
In His Name,
BT

Monday, February 1, 2010

I can

[italics = 1/2 normal speed; normal = double time]


I can argue my way out of my mind,
out of my mind,
out of my mind.

I can color inside the lines.
I can decrypt archaic signs.
I can prove you right or wrong,
I can write lyrics to this song.
I can hear the ocean in a shell,
But I can't look you in the eyes and say farewell.

I can smile while analyzing you,
analyzing you,
analyzing you.

I can convince myself I'm not in love.
I can break in a baseball glove.
I can pray when I can't find God,
I can put on a cheerful facade.
I can beat any video game,
But I can't pretend others are the same.

I can tell myself to have a dream,
have a dream,
have a dream.

I can engineer a creature trap.
I can craft a wishing cap.
I can cook a delicious meal.
I can think before I feel.
I can navigate through the woods at night,
But I can't seem to win this fight.

I can stay up all night until the dawn,
until the dawn,
until the dawn.

I can write poetry fueled by tears.
I can give you a reason to persevere.
I can make a magnetic coil
I can sell vials of serpent oil.
I can ride a dirt bike down a trail.
But I can't find the ending to this tale.