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“Brocket Hall” – by Audiomachine – from Another Sky.
The Red Queen's Knight - On the Queen's mission, and contemplating this Mud Ball
On the chess board, the Knight is the most dangerous of components.
The Queens Knight? More so.
While a Knights path may be "partially predicted", the Knight acts at the Queen's whim and order.
Which is not predictable.
Herein lurks the danger.
Could he leap right? Jump left? Do a reverse jette? Twice?
After three possible moves you have no prediction.
And no answer to the inbound threat
The Red Queens Knight answers only to his Queen.
The Queen trusts no one.
Not even her own King
Just one lone soldier, The Red Queen's Knight, is dispatched to adjudicate.
In one day - what an Army will not achieve in weeks
“Perhaps consciousness is merely a special form of hallucination?”
Life In My Fathers House
My VISIONS ON A MUD BALL, is a story of Paradox.
Our journey, Our Love so Secret it was Public Knowledge, and Mnemosyne, and I.
Why are we here?
Why do we dwell on this ball of mud?
Many of us have answers to these questions
or claim to have. . .
often with words like mirrors
which deflect back each speaker to him/her self
and often with actions
which give an answer
we may not necessarily like
I am a Phoenix and Death is just a Door Way. God is an Iron and it is The Fool I play.
And on occasion I believe ink, which although thinner than blood – is rather more permanent.
Which is supposedly not able to be proved by the Scientific Method, but is proven by all written historical accounts which continue to exist, long after the blood of the authors has dried out, hopes destroyed and dreams evaporated,
And empires turned to dust on the winds of Time.
This is about My Life So Far. And it's about time. AND it IS about Time, too.
Don't miss World domination in a glass. Get soused in the name of Friday Night and experience Life in The Dark Lane, in The Red Queen's Race.
It’s also about dreams, wishes and nightmares, a Life of Magick in the Life.
A life Barren of events, a life lost in the light of a magic simplicity. But mostly about my love of life and love, Loving, and being loved. . . loved well I recall A-L-L-L-L-L-L of it.
For it was mostly sweet. And I had you. . . my sweet dark haired girl.
No testimony is sufficient to establish a fantasy, unless - its falsehood
would be MORE fantastic than the event which it endeavors to realize.
Prejudice means literally, pre-judgment. Rejecting a contention out of hand without examining the evidence.
Prejudice is the result of powerful emotions, not of sound reasoning.
To find the truth of a matter, we have to approach it with an open mind as we can, and with a keen awareness of our own limitations, opinions and pre-dispositions.
Only if we have carefully examined the evidence, can we reject the proposition.
Critical, skeptical examination has to be applied in place of prejudice to avoid confusing what one wants to believe, with what one needs to understand.
The pain of childbirth, so especially marked in human mothers, is because of the recent growth of the brain in the last few million years.
It would seem that our intelligence is the source of our unhappiness in an almost literal way; but it also then implies that our happiness is the source of our strength as a species.
Being aware of all of this is what gave me the notion to patent Circular Irony.
A simple strategy. Really. You all have your opinions about other people.
You cannot help yourselves. Not Really. It helps you to compartmentalize.
That is why the WARNING about "judging a book by its cover".
Which you don't really understand. I mean Not Really.
Because if you did. Understand, I mean. You would not jump to your self-centred conclusions about other people. Or their capabilities. Or potential.
Your inability / failure / disregard for understanding - is what makes my Circular Irony so easy to execute.
I am that Queen's Knight on the chess-board. . . Moving "by-THE-rules".
Yet DEFINITELY not by your "understanding" of The Rules.
Quiet stealth and steady determination - right before your very eyes.
Not only are you watching. You are watching without SEEING.
The Red Queen's Knight moves . . . Boldly Forward? A feint to the Side?
Slyly Backward? Perhaps a feint within a feint?
Lunging into the fray? A parrying side-step, perhaps?
Or, melting quietly back into the shadows - to slip away along a side lane?
Adorning a new disguise.
Preparing his Real ambush . . .
As I lead you by the nose into this hall of - well not really smoke and
It is an illusion though.
It is the ILLUSION of there being actual smoke and mirrors.
While, in fact, something else is in play. And you will recognise it at the very last moment. When retreat is not possible.
But enough about you, already. Let's talk about me! I know that sounds conceited. But it isn't. Not Really
It is more like a friendly warning. . . That thinly veiled "shot across the bow". That gentle nudge "toward the edge". That "joking threat".
People think things about me BECAUSE I told them so. And I even behaved accordingly.
However - no one gets the exact same show-and-tell. They all get the truth - mind you. Much like looking at, and through, a diamond.
You can see clear through to the other side of the diamnd. But you CANNOT SEE the other side. See it FROM the other side.
Not without turning the diamond about. Which is something you cannot do with me.
Everyone gets a similar picture. But elements of it have been moved about. Removed. Re-colored. Re-sized.
You each see a SIMILAR entity. But none of you will entirely agree that you ar seeng the SAME entity.
The secret is in the SEMANTICS. I will demonstrate later in this book.
That's me in the shadows. Brocket Hall in the distance - will be the place.
Tonight. Where the unfolding drama will come to a Dead Stop.
Sadly, I have lost the original image file. But the image still conveys the threat.
I followed a life suggested by Nature and carved out an Identity for my
self in the vast realm of personal idiosyncrasy, rather than carving it
out of someone else’s flesh, as is normally the case. I created a personality
for my self and have paraded my creation before the eyes of all I have
met with no care for their sensibilities except that they will accept me
as they discover me.
By layers. By degrees. By levels of intimacy. We were not going to care my little Espanolita. I did not grow old yet and nor did you.
“It’s in the genetics!” you tell me. Though you never left me, and I never left you.
Committed to this path I soon discovered that I could alter reality by my perception of it. Alter the realty of others even, by the same manner. Eventually, smiling away humiliation, the stupidity, intransigence and pain caused by other people.
Other people? This race of reptiles?
How lucky we must be, Conchita, to find each other on these tepid shores of a lone planet located on the back-wash of the most distant, and least travelled shipping lanes of this vast Galaxy turning in the breath of Brahma. . . If only I could alter our lives.
"I Would Prefer to Be a Glorious Failure, Than a Small Success", SOUNDS like a good idea.
But - how about rather: "I don't want to play this silly game anymore - Let's do SOMETHING DIFFERENT!"
“Too much enlightenment is like too much food - when you exceed the limit
of assimilation, all is wasted”.
Life in my Fathers House
Enough to have had that for most of my Good Life, and that it is my task to tell this STORY . . . I can never change what I did, even while I change my own self.
Before your eyes, I am doing this in broad daylight to steal you away from all you know.
It is my attempt to contact the living, if there are any. Just Imagine there may be intelligent life elsewhere in the universe. I hope so. There does not seem to be any here... but enough: Come. Hold my hand. Let me tell you THE story. . .
“Your friend is close by your side
And speaks a far ancient tongue
A seasons wish will come true
All seasons begin with you - ”
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