El reloj más exacto es un regalo de la Naturaleza en forma ...
Age of contempt
================================================================================
Note 107.0 Age of contempt 55 replies
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 22 lines 23-MAR-1988 03:57
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"... and then you can come here to get a look at the factory" he
said excited. "Sorry, dad, I'm not interested in dirty gray
factories. Will call you on Saturday. Bye". And the telephone
came silent again.
"Dirty factory..." he thought, "twenty two years working here,
getting the money back home to pay his education and now he
states this is a dirty factory...".
Yes, there were some moments in which he was completely sure he
was reaching the limit, the magical age of 55, five years before
the forced retirement, too old to understand his son, too young
to think of death and all. But he was hell-bent decided to
approach his son before becoming himself an obstacle.
"Dirty factory" he thought again "just because the view from my
desk is two black chimneys, a freight platform, and the unloading
terminals... I must be getting older, I guess, my own son doesn't
have time to share with me..." A siren sounded in the distance.
"Dirty factory" he repeated slowly.
================================================================================
Note 107.1 Age of contempt 1 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 37 lines 23-MAR-1988 03:59
-< Incommunication >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He was sitting next to his son. "So, the idea is very good, dad,
I'm working in this program very hard, the idea is simple:
devising the proper algorythms to translate from English into
Spanish. Obviously, I need the syntactic parser coupled with the
morphology set of rules... I'm coding now in Lisp, just to make
the whole thing portable... do you follow me?"
No. He couldn't. The only thing he was thinking of was when he
was younger; he was repairing radios by that time. Half a dollar
the hour, getting money to pay his studies and all. But now, he
was facing his son playing with one of those new computers
talking about translation, a dollar the word, coding, parsers...
"Yes, of course, I *do* understand, but-"
"Then you get the input text file formatted and ready to feed the
processor. After the first pass, you get a raw output needing
only a slight postediting. It's wonderful! I will make enough
money to buy a nice house north of the city!"
He was definately old. He couldn't talk to his son about the
factory. And he guessed he was looking stupid looking at the
screen. "How's Ethel? Are you planning to marry her and all?"
"Yes. Next summer. If I get the money, I mean, if I manage to
code the whole thing in Lisp and fix the lookahead capability of
the parser". Fantastic! His son was thinking of getting married
next summer if he managed to fix 'the whole thing'...
After a while, all possible conversations were locked. He took
his jacket and went back home. "See you next Saturday?" he asked,
"No, I'm going out of the city with Ethel".
Repairing radios didn't work to buy the house, but times have
changed now. A computer was not only useful to buy a house: it
was even critical to marry someone.
================================================================================
Note 107.2 Age of contempt 2 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 19 lines 23-MAR-1988 04:00
-< House of cards >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"My house is now rubbish. It took me too much effort to get the
money for it. By that time, living south of the city was a clear
advantage: the factories stand a couple of kilometers far away.
But now, my son thinks of moving to the north, where they have
built those office areas full of computers and residential malls.
My God! He is only 22 and states he hasn't the time to share with
me! Where do I fit in all this?"
He was ruminating very late in the night. He couldn't sleep.
Ligthed a cigarrette.
"Well, I suposse life is like this, you build up a house of
cards with care and speed, and when you are about to finish it,
you get suddenly old, your hands trembling, and you finally face
a pile of cards on the table..."
Getting older is hard to digest, specially when you realize the
smile of the younger hurts you a lot...
================================================================================
Note 107.3 Age of contempt 3 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 4 lines 23-MAR-1988 04:01
-< Unemployment vs. Retirement >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Unemployment versus retirement. In the first case, you taste the
bitter refusal to become something, in the second one, you taste
the bitter reality that you have finally become nothing.
================================================================================
Note 107.4 Age of contempt 4 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 21 lines 23-MAR-1988 10:14
-< No more phone calls >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay, I got it. You take care of your child, you teach him all the
things you love and value. When he is 16 he starts criticising
everything, he says that you are a conservative, he hates your music,
he comes back home late at night, he refuses to go with you for
a walk.
At 22 he starts working at one of those wonderful hi-tech companies,
he knows nothing about factories, he talks and talks about money,
compact discs, cars, and all that stuff.
You explain to him how hard it was when you were 22 and he doesn't
listen to you.
At 24, you have definitely lost him. Not a single call. No
congratulations for your birthday. No questions about how well or
bad you are doing.
And when you explain that a young University student menaces your
job he just answer "Modern times, dad, take it easy".
Yes, I must be getting old. No doubt.
================================================================================
Note 107.5 Age of contempt 5 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 10 lines 23-MAR-1988 10:21
-< You still here? >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He doubles my salary. I'm proud of it. I have fixed for him some
failures in his new apartment electric installation. I have spent
the whole day shopping for him. I have repaired the taps and made
some arrangements in the bank.
And when he comes back, he looks at me and asks "You still here?".
You still here. It sounds like a command to fly away as far as
possible. He has obviously forgotten the basics... or is it also
my fault?
================================================================================
Note 107.6 Age of contempt 6 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 6 lines 23-MAR-1988 10:27
-< TV as a treasure >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He measures his freedom at home by the ability to defend that he
can do everything he wishes.
What's more, he seems to be proud when he asks me "Dou you wish
to watch channel 2?". The TV set, I suppose, must be his most valued
treasure.
================================================================================
Note 107.7 Age of contempt 7 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 11 lines 23-MAR-1988 11:38
-< Japanese recorders >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm not worried of those adolescents who sit on the walkside with
a bottle of gin and cans of beer. I can't hear their complaints because
of the noisy Japanese recorder they are listening to.
What it worries me is that their sons will be managing my retirement
pension... Obviously, I will be condemned for the unemployment,
the NATO, and the Wall Street collapse. I know I will be one of
those social burdens again.
Working in a factory must be a crime. But being a pensionist, that's
must be *the* crime!
================================================================================
Note 107.8 Age of contempt 8 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 8 lines 24-MAR-1988 03:03
-< Specific gravity of smile >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Specific gravity of a smile. Is about how easy you can smile when
you are a child, how little you smile as you grow older, and how
difficult you find to smile sincerely when you are definetely grown.
It seems that your lips are not influenced by gravity, but then
you are trapped, years later, in the social gravity force field
and you cannot smile again... except for that stupid smile everybody
gets when we get bored of everything.
================================================================================
Note 107.9 Age of contempt 9 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 2 lines 24-MAR-1988 03:07
-< Squash >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Squash. He says it's good to counter stress. Has anyone invented
something against squash?
================================================================================
Note 107.10 Age of contempt 10 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 11 lines 24-MAR-1988 03:17
-< Inconsistencies >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He states not being able to speak English is a hindrance these days.
But then, he is working in a translatiing machine.
He states peace is a must these days, but then he is cooperating
with a hi-tech Defense company.
Finally, he says computers have reduced total turnaround time freeing
the humans to do more specific tasks, but then he says he hasn't
got the time to see me.
Inconsistency, I guess it's a key value these days.
================================================================================
Note 107.11 Age of contempt 11 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 2 lines 24-MAR-1988 03:19
-< Number 4 >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He told me having 4 children is a serious error. He forgets he was
number 4.
================================================================================
Note 107.12 Age of contempt 12 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 11 lines 24-MAR-1988 09:56
-< Nobodyand Everyone >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He takes it on me every time he fails ("Just because you gave me a poor
education and you omitted talking about this or doing that...").
He assumes he owes me nothing for everything he knows he learnt
it by himself ("... and I have learnt this and that and you never
told me this and that...").
I suppose I'm guilty for not teaching him that nobody invents nothing
and, on the other hand, everyone can teach us something new.
[Again, I know I'm *nobody* and I'm not *everyone*...]
================================================================================
Note 107.13 Age of contempt 13 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 48 lines 24-MAR-1988 14:38
-< Dark corner >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear son,
Last week the management of my company announced a new timetable
for the employees.
According to the new timetable, I'm to start working at 8 o'clock
in the morning, leaving at 15:00'...imagine! leaving at 15:00'!
They have destroyed my escapeway, Mark. You know I stayed in the
office until quite late in the evening, but you never asked me
why. You kept telling me that being overloadedand working twelve
hours a day was hard. You didn't know I liked that way, for
otherwise I was to go home... something wrong at home? Yes, Mark,
many things are wrong there. I do not have friends: I lost them
all when I first met your mother. Marriage, you know, tends to be
a closed loopback, a room with no doors.
I love your being optimistic about marriage, your thinking of it
as 'you two against the world' and all that you told me about one
of those rare days in which you keep your mouth closed and your
heart open. I'm not the one to spoil your idea about marriage.
But the thing is that, after 28 years of being married, after
going four times to the nursery, after exhausting each and all of
my plans, home became sort of a jail. I know, I know: I WAS to
fight against itand turn the situation into something different.
I'm not pessimistic, Mark. After many years working in this
factory and receiving a small table in a dark corner in the
office, after watching my four kids growing, after paying the
last debt for the house, how could I be pessimistic? I take it
the way it comes. That's all.
The only sad thing, the only thought it deeply hurts me, Mark,
is that I managed to become a sort of grey soul, far away from
those realities, sitting in that dark corner in the office. But
now, you know, they have changed the timetable and, you see, they
have also given me a 28th anniversary gift: a new desk lamp...
that has killed my beloved darkness and has taken to the surface
everything I hate: my isolation, my solitude.
Mark, I'm not a pessimistic, but a frustration everyone can now
look at.
Your father.
================================================================================
Note 107.14 Age of contempt 14 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 5 lines 24-MAR-1988 14:44
-< Cannot be real >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I suppose sitting there, watching the TV, and realizing
everything is under control is not that bad.
But those pictures of my kids smiling cannot be real.
================================================================================
Note 107.15 Age of contempt 15 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 5 lines 24-MAR-1988 14:45
-< Spinning >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm under a crisis. Martha has told me everyone in his 55 faces a
crisis. Wonderful. I have nothing to share with this world...
2,000 years spinning means it has faced at least thirty crises
and there he is! Spinning, spinning, spinning!!
================================================================================
Note 107.16 Age of contempt 16 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 6 lines 24-MAR-1988 14:48
-< Dangerous >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They say my car is old, a danger for the others drivers in the
road. Now I understand why the treat me as if I were dangerous.
It's funny: those with ideals are dangerous fighters. Those with
no ideals at all are even worse: they are simply dangerous.
================================================================================
Note 107.17 Age of contempt 17 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 7 lines 24-MAR-1988 14:51
-< Vomiting compassion >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If I look to a woman and feel love, they call it "a beautiful act".
If my son looks at a woman and feels love, they call it
"a natural feeling". They see poetry in my loving and biology
in the love of my son.
Curious adjectives: a vomiting compassion!
================================================================================
Note 107.18 Age of contempt 18 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 6 lines 24-MAR-1988 14:53
-< Same shadows >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tonight is the night in which I have at last become free.
I have reached as far as where my son lives. I have stood in
front of the window and looked inside: he was watching the TV and
Ethel was reading a magazine!
================================================================================
Note 107.19 Age of contempt 19 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 7 lines 25-MAR-1988 03:00
-< Ceiling of the jail >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay, I'm a peasant, an industrial illiterate who knows nothing
about computers, aerospace, modern music, and sex.
Ahaa! But my son knows all about everything and still is a child
playing with his future: he doesn't know the difference between
freedom and crushing against the ceiling of this jail!
================================================================================
Note 107.20 Age of contempt 20 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 23 lines 25-MAR-1988 03:01
-< Pricking sensation >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Calling: beeep! beeeeeep!
"Hallo?"
"Hello, it's me!"
"Who? Whom am I speaking to?"
"Mum, it's me, can you hear me?"
"Hey! How are you? Long time, no news"
Calling mum makes me feel younger. I love it.
"I'm fine, what about you?"
"I'm fine, too. What about little Mark?"
Little Mark! Little Mark! My God! Mum has but killed me!
"Hallo? Are you still there?"
I hang the phone with a pricking sensation that the phone has just
hung me dead.
================================================================================
Note 107.21 Age of contempt 21 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 15 lines 25-MAR-1988 03:13
-< Will I know how to stop it >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I need to cry, but I don't know how to do it. After all these years
my brain has turned his back on me. Even Martha is away: think I
must think of her if I want to love her again...
I must look to the people around me if I wish to reconstruct my
self. Yes, looking at the others will work. I need to command my
feelings, I need a system of new values, a whole new system to
understand my life... or maybe I just need commands to conceal my
lack of a system?
Too many years with the same lack of a system, no values, I thought
the equation was enough to cope with this life, but now I'm alone...
everybody else is sleeping in my ship: need to stay awake commanding
my ship... I need to cry, but if I succeed, will I know how to stop
it?
================================================================================
Note 107.22 Age of contempt 22 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 15 lines 25-MAR-1988 03:38
-< Convictions >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Okay" he said, "I know my enemies. No more daily routines. No more
factories. I will start from the scratch, I will focus on Martha:she
is everything I've got. I will make plans. Yes, I will show myself
I'm not worn-out. Not worn-out"
He went to the room where Martha was sitting. "Martha! What about
going out tonight?".
Martha answered mechanically "I feeling a little down tonight. I've
got a headache. Think I'm gonna sleep".
He was about to use violence against her, violence to take her by
her shoulders and forcing her to go out. But, after a few seconds,
he sat besides her and thought "Before any attemp to set me free,
I must get strong convictions, for I know what I do must be wrong..."
================================================================================
Note 107.23 Age of contempt 23 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 4 lines 25-MAR-1988 06:42
-< Wintry sky >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A wintry sky over a dark ocean. And in the middle of it,
the shreds of Neptune, my poor shreds.
================================================================================
Note 107.24 Age of contempt 24 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 6 lines 25-MAR-1988 06:44
-< I wanted to be myself >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I wanted to be myself. I wanted to feel life. I wanted it
to design my future. I just wanted to feel I was born.
That's all, I dreamt of me.
================================================================================
Note 107.25 Age of contempt 25 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 9 lines 25-MAR-1988 06:46
-< No more purple skies >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I remember I always wanted to lye naked on a field, under a purple
sky, under a wild storm. But in the meantime, I met a woman,
I created a family, had children, found a work, and when I
finally got the time, I went to that field.
The sun was shinning. No more purple skies, but a dirty factory.
================================================================================
Note 107.26 Age of contempt 26 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 13 lines 25-MAR-1988 06:48
-< Otherwise, you are a murderer >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Let me inside you. Into your world. Let me just share all the
things you have done.
Let me inside you, into your fears, be navigating over your
tears, giving you semen, taking your blood.
Let me inside you, to the warm of your breasts.
[Kill me, Martha, otherwise you are a murderer]
================================================================================
Note 107.27 Age of contempt 27 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 8 lines 25-MAR-1988 07:59
-< ...but I do >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He leant his head on her shoulder. But she didn't noticed it.
After a while, she set aside his head saying "I must be going to
the kitchen". "Don't go" he said. "Come on, I'm not really going"
she added. "No, you are not going... but I do" he thought.
================================================================================
Note 107.28 Age of contempt 28 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 27 lines 25-MAR-1988 08:01
-< Deadline >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"If I look around me, I'm alive. If I talk to my son, I'm dead
again" he thought.
His son was playing at the terminal. "Hi!" he said, "Hi, dad".
"How's everything? Much work?"
"Yes. I must finish this for tomorrow morning, otherwise Central
Engineering is gonna face a slippage in the schedule".
"What could happen if there's a slippage in the schedule?" he
asked, "Oh, well, I suppose I could loose my job..." he answered
with no conviction at all.
"Well, in that case I must tell you something: I have met all my
deadlines all my life and, at the end, I'm loosing my job..."
"C'mon! Here you go again! My depressive dad praying to the gods
for an early apocalysis!"
He looked at the screen and then said "Mark, the sad thing is that
they up there have also deadlines to meet and I can assure you
yours will be met just in time".
His son wasn't listening.
================================================================================
Note 107.29 Age of contempt 29 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 15 lines 25-MAR-1988 08:03
-< Travel Agency >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yes, sometimes you face an LSD-drunk youngster selling you
a liquid sun and a tangram sunset in Playa Linda.
They call it 'travel agency'. You pay in advance, they give you
your tickets and there you are!
"Honeymoon, isn't it?" he says with a stupid face making me
think of a serious mistake in the zoologic tree. "No" I reply,
"We want to establish there a health care hospital for people
affected by AIDS..."
Jaaa! He now looks surprised!
================================================================================
Note 107.30 Age of contempt 30 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 8 lines 25-MAR-1988 08:05
-< Freeze! Police! >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I love walking in the night wandering. Sometimes you find a
group of young people talking in a dark alley. It makes me feel
fine staying hidden in the dark and cry "Freeze! Police!".
They disappear going to hell. Love it.
================================================================================
Note 107.31 Age of contempt 31 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 20 lines 25-MAR-1988 08:06
-< Bursts into pieces >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Mark? A terrible thing has happened!"
"What? What happens?"
"The factory has exploded, everything destroyed!"
"What???? Where are you now?? Are you okay?"
"Yes. I'm in the office now"
"But you said you were-"
"Yes, I know what I said. I wanted to see you worried
about me. That's all"
"Dad, I don't have the time for listening to stupid jokes.
I'm in a deep mud now with a fucking code and-"
"Ah! The semantic parser! I know, how's he doing? Maybe he is
a little depressed. Take him out for a rest. He need it"
"If you go on gettin' stupid I-"
"Oooh! I'm *so* sorry. Excuse me, we are dynamiting the factory
now. 3, 2, 1...". Beeeeeeeeep. The telephone tone again.
He laughed. "My son is 'in a deep mud' with the parser just
now, when everything bursts into pieces..."
================================================================================
Note 107.32 Age of contempt 32 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 14 lines 25-MAR-1988 11:48
-< Wonderfully alone >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"How wonderfully alone I feel! I would like to shout to everything
passing in front of my eyes 'Don't dare to stand in front of me!!'
Yes, I don't want to go back home: I'm not prepared yet to meet
Martha, I must try out a 'hello', a couple of kisses in her lips,
a 'how was your day, darling?'... I need to practice before sounding
like a robot..."
"What's the time, please?" He asked to an old woman sitting on a
bench "Six o'clock"
"Six o'clock!" he thought "Six o'clock! Everybody thinks that looking
to a watch it's enough to know what time is it! My God! How far
they are from *my* world... yes, I feel myself wonderfully alone"
================================================================================
Note 107.33 Age of contempt 33 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 1 line 25-MAR-1988 11:50
-< Nihilist >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tireness becomes fear, that's why I'm becoming a criminal nihilist...
================================================================================
Note 107.34 Age of contempt 34 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 6 lines 25-MAR-1988 12:15
-< ...always misses something... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I don't believe in anything. I don't want nothing, just being walking.
I know Martha doesn't need a hate, doesn't need a goal. Even in
those moments of real ecstasis, she always misses something...
The only thing she loves is cleaning the circular marks of the glasses
on the table... glasses on the table... she always misses something.
================================================================================
Note 107.35 Age of contempt 35 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 6 lines 25-MAR-1988 12:18
-< Age of contempt >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I want to think of myself, reconstruct my past... "I was born in..."
"...my father was a..." "mum had a...", "I liked the..."
Contempt. Just contempt filling it all. Isn't there another way
of reconstructing one's past? Or maybe we are living in the age
of contempt.
================================================================================
Note 107.36 Age of contempt 36 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 7 lines 29-MAR-1988 08:25
-< Future for a while >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I will stay at home, into my room, with the door closed.
I will paint the screen of my TV. Yellow will be nice.
I will put the telephone inside the washing machine.
Need to be alone, three or four days.
I will take a little of sea water in a can of beer, I will fix a
portion of the galaxy in the wall with pins.
Yes, I will visit my future for a while.
================================================================================
Note 107.37 Age of contempt 37 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 15 lines 29-MAR-1988 09:56
-< Milky Way >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... and when you open the door you feel very much the same as when
you at last get out of a hospital after a 3-month period:
Welcome to the human race! Oh, yes, the Milky Way's still in its
place, and the sea sounds like the last time, and the sun sets every
day, and the cars get crashed in a dirty road, and the radio speaks
about the same problems, and the TV shows the same images with
different protagonists...
Ah! Welcome to the human race! Every thing is going alright. Everybody
dreams the same dreams and everyone dies of the same illness.
But, after all, the best feeling after being away from the Earth
is opening your window at night, look at the sky and realize...
that the Milky Way's still in its place!
================================================================================
Note 107.38 Age of contempt 38 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 8 lines 29-MAR-1988 10:02
-< Back to the chain gang >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They say 'Hello, glad you are back!'. But they mean 'Welcome again,
back to the chain gang!'
The only problem with a jail is that they always have the key. This
means that, a given day, they can set you free...
Back to the chain gang!
================================================================================
Note 107.39 Age of contempt 39 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 12 lines 30-MAR-1988 01:32
-< No more mirrors >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Need to be alone. I don't want to see my face. Every surface reflecting
a piece of my life should be destroyed. I don't want any mirrors.
No mirrors in my room.
I feel like one of those old satellites when they go out of orbit,
though they have a self-destruction mechanism... yes, I MUST design
my own self-destructing mechanism. Need paper, and a pen. Need more
paper for my design. I will write down the basics. Right now. All
night. All day. The eyes of Martha reflect my own eyes, but I can't
break those eyes...
Need to be alone. Need no more mirrors.
================================================================================
Note 107.40 Age of contempt 40 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 6 lines 30-MAR-1988 01:36
-< 45 degrees >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No past. I will erase my past. My mechanism is working all right.
I will rotate now, 45 degrees, facing the cold outer spaces, the
Earth at my back.
Full of stars, everything is full of stars. But I can't take a look
at them, otherwise I will be late in the office. Late in the office.
================================================================================
Note 107.41 Age of contempt 41 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 35 lines 30-MAR-1988 01:51
-< World from the other side of the door >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Dad, are you there?"
"No, I'm out for a while. Come back later"
"C'mon! Don't be silly! Get out of your room. You are worrying us
all. They miss you in the office. Are you okay?"
No answer from the other side of the door.
"Dad, I want you to visit a person"
"What? A person? Me visiting someone?"
"Yes, he's the best doctor in town"
"The best doctor in town!! Ahaaaa! We live in a 3 million inhabitants
town and my clever boy has managed himself to find the best doctor
in town! Ahaaa!" his laugh sounded irritating.
"Dad, listen to me, please. You need a treatment, I mean, you are
badly depressed. You are hurting us all. Think of mum, please!"
"Mum? What the hell has mum to do with you?"
"Listen, his phone is 222 3 22, got it?"
"Oh yes, I will remember the train"
"What?"
"The train... chuk, chuk, chuk beeeeeeep chuk, chuk..."
"Okay, dad. Okay. If you wish to ruin your life go ahead. You bastard!"
And then, he thought for a while in trains and treatment. And he
laughed from the other side of the door "Ahaaa! He has found the
best doctor in town, chuk, chuk, chuk beeeeeeep!"
================================================================================
Note 107.42 Age of contempt 42 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 60 lines 30-MAR-1988 04:03
-< Confucius: Will to Enjoyment >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He didn't went to the doctor. Instead, he decided to dream. And
he dreamt of being with a beautiful girl under a golden sky by a
seascape. And the girst talked to him, but she didn't move her
lips:
"You've been working for years. You have been building your own
future, your home, your wife, your beliefs and dreams. You have
been educate under the will to power, doing everything aimed to
obtain material goods; any and all of your achievements designed
in terms of power; a good job associated with a good payroll to
sustain your family, a good car to reach your office, a good
education for your kids, and a beautiful home to keep your wife
happy. Everything you do, you do it for them. Every time you
move, you move for them. And then the time passes thru you, you
get thru something, your life becomes meaningful in relation to
your own 'all', your 'self'. You creep... under the will to
power. Your world being a game between dominators and dominated.
Your whole logic being a snow ball in hell. You look back and,
automatically, begin to recount your achievements. Again, in
terms of status, money, and power. Your God being a pharmacologic
solution. You never refuse to take another way. You can't.
And now I offer you another universe: the will to enjoyment.
Too much time being a Nietzschean activist, too much blood down
the road. Personal wars, local conflicts, problems at home, at
work. Every obstacle between you and your achievments becomes a
problem. But the will to enjoyment is different. There is just a
sense floating in the air: nobody's happy, really happy.
For everything you have, you never got it by your hands: they
gave it to you, and you sit on your material universe dominating
everything and everyone. That's your will to power, your own
rules written for you and yours. Your system of values becoming
meaningless after retirement. 'I will become Confucionist' you
say, but it's much going on.
Useless the smile of a child, and the shadows on the wall.
They change good for evil. What's then to be returned for
goodness? That's the teaching of my own religion: the will to
enjoyment. Never giving a step towards power, but towards
enjoyment. For they need you happy, not richer. For all of the
stars in heaven lights for you to delight, not for you to get
them.
But you fail, time and again. Your objectual world looks at you
laughing at you, facing at you. The factory was your world, 8
hours a day. You missed everything: the colors of the
music, the sound of the colors. I can give you but the will to
enjoyment. But do not think you've got the solution: you are only
dreaming... only dreaming under a golden sky..."
He opened his eyes. God! He was crying for the first time in many
years!
[from the Age of Contempt to the Will to Enjoyment]
================================================================================
Note 107.43 Age of contempt 43 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 29 lines 30-MAR-1988 04:34
-< WTE! Trouble in the city >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"WTE, WTE, WTE, WTE, WTE, WTE! WILL TO ENJOYMENT!!!" he cried.
"I will write it in all the walls of this mad city!!" and he opened
the door, got out of the room under the scared look of his
wife; got out the house, into the car.
And he drove thru the highways. "WTE!WTE!WTE!". Everybody was
looking at him, as if he were mad. "WTE!" he was crying. Driving mad
thru the highways "Ahhaa! Trouble in the city! The best doctor
in town is a punk with gallons of beer in his crazy head! WTE!
WTE! WTE! WTE!"
And the car was flying over the roads, gliding over the troubled
city. The sun was sitting besides his. The sea was in his
eyes. And the traffic police tried to stop him. All the city was
behind he, trying to catch him, to capture his freedom. But
everybody knows you cannot steal nothing to those having
but a smile. "WTE!WTE!WTE!" he was far away from the city.
Finally, the car stopped in the middle of a road. It was late in
the night and the moon was up in the sky. He got out of the car.
Stretched his muscles, took a deep breath of fresh air and, looking
at the moon, he thought "Is a great day indeed, for I'm now
feeling the will to enjoyment!".
But he was alone with the moon. Sat close to the car on
the floor. Closed his eyes. And the self-destructing mechanism
started functioning...
================================================================================
Note 107.44 Age of contempt 44 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 13 lines 30-MAR-1988 07:59
-< Translating feelings >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So my son is building a translating machine. He can translate words,
and maybe meanings. But he can't translate feelings.
He can parse any input sentence, but know nothing on looks. Strange
guy my son is, for he cares only of what can be said with a dirty
mouth instead of trying to translate what blooms out of a heart!
I'm away from home. In fact, I have no home at all. Will take a
taxi as far as China. Paying a visit to Confucius. But there are
no taxis reaching that far... I will come back to meet the LSD
guy in the travel agency. Yes, a one-way ticket to China.
I'm gonna visit Confucius. My son knows nothing about him.
================================================================================
Note 107.45 Age of contempt 45 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 12 lines 30-MAR-1988 08:11
-< Ticket to Nowhere >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Give me a ticket to China" he said with anxiety.
"Sorry, Sir, no tickets to China"
"What? No tickets? And you was promising a trip to Playa Linda only
a week ago?"
"Sir, I mean I have no tickets right now. But you can try Singapore
Airlines. They are servicing that route. You just need to-"
"Shit! You son of a... !" The clerk got scared. "Listen, you stupid,
You get me the ticket right now, in a twinkling! C'mon, move!"
And nobody knows how he did it, but he got out of the travel agency
with a ticket... to nowhere.
================================================================================
Note 107.46 Age of contempt 46 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 17 lines 5-APR-1988 05:17
-< Middle of the road >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He came back to the road, where the car was stopped. The endless
and empty road in front of him. "No doubt, this road leads to China.
I will go walking as I have time enough" he thought.
And he walked, miles and miles. He never saw a coming car. The road
seemed to be a particular one. "No cars. No people. I'm now sure
this road leads to Confucius. Otherwise, I would had met someone".
Sleep came free. The moon over the road. A two-lane road. And a
lonely man walking, and walking. Dust in his eyes. An empty and
silent road.
"Humans love harm. They find it a pleasure. A delight. It seems
to me we live in the most aesthetic planet in the whole Universe..."
He used 'reason' to condemn 'reason'. But he was happy as he never
was before: in the middle of the road.
================================================================================
Note 107.47 Age of contempt 47 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 13 lines 5-APR-1988 10:49
-< Learning how to look >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The first rule to grasp the will to enjoyment is to carefully observe
everything you never observed before. I think I must learn again
how to look at things, how to discover the essence beyond the object,
how to dive inside the world a stone keeps inside. Yes, I must learn
how to listen with my eyes and how to keep looking at everything
as if were an alien visiting a complete new planet..."
Then, he looked at the distant, over the point in the horizon in
which the road and the sky meet, and he saw a black cloud with the
form of a mountain, and the peak of the mountain resembled a face,
and he recognized his old face.
"Yes, I must learn how to look before getting scared of my own shadow"
================================================================================
Note 107.48 Age of contempt 48 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 11 lines 6-APR-1988 08:23
-< Tears >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"What comes after a tear drop? Or perhaps the tears in my cheek are
just a manifestation of what's to come.
The meaning of a tear is just another tear. I know what to do when
I'm down: crying. But I don't know what to do with my tears.
Tears within a smile. Imagine a world in which the answer to any
question is just "yes". Quiteness till someone happens to make a
new question.
The meaning of a tear is just another tear".
================================================================================
Note 107.49 Age of contempt 49 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 3 lines 6-APR-1988 08:29
-< Universe >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A pile of leaves, a grain of salt, and an old decolored ribbon.
A complete world governing a portion of space in the middle of a
road. Who said the universe was already discovered?
================================================================================
Note 107.50 Age of contempt 50 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 5 lines 6-APR-1988 12:19
-< Think properly >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It is not that your problems do not allow you to think properly;
it is that they are forcing you to discover a new way of thinking.
I will experience those things I have only dreamt of: discovering
a new way of thinking.
================================================================================
Note 107.51 Age of contempt 51 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 22 lines 7-APR-1988 10:25
-< Rotating >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"A critical moment in my life: the first time I saw the moon. I
always thought there were several moons. One completely white,
like a circle full of light in the space. Above my head. Another
one resembling a nimb, and another one smaller.
My father explained to me that they were one and the same moon as
seen from different angles. And I thought "What a boring world
this is! Instead of having several moons they've only got a
single one".
A depressed man is a happy one when observed from a different
angle. I've got the solution to overcome depression: just rotate
a couple of degrees!"
And he kept moving in circles, rotating around his feet till he
got sick and fell down with sweat in his forefront.
"No doubt that appearing to the world with all of our faces
simultaneously is a confusing experience!"
***********************************************************************
================================================================================
Note 107.52 Age of contempt 52 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 9 lines 7-APR-1988 10:31
-< That's all >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So, I need to reconstruct my past from scratch. I need to break all
the mirrors reflecting my face. I need to achieve the will to enjoyment.
I need to rotate a couple of degrees to overcome problems, and I must
find a new way of thinking.
That's all. I need to become Confucionist.
================================================================================
Note 107.53 Age of contempt 53 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 9 lines 7-APR-1988 10:35
-< Physical experience >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I wish to find that far land in which death is not a mere physical
experience.
************************************************************************
...that land in which love is more than a simple passing indisposition...
================================================================================
Note 107.54 Age of contempt 54 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 9 lines 7-APR-1988 10:39
-< Slight flaw just meaningless >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... the land in which you do not need to go to the WC and close
the door behind you to feel safe and free for a moment...
************************************************************************
... that land where a slight flaw on the face of beauty is meaningless
and people do not waste the time polishing coal to sell it as gold...
================================================================================
Note 107.55 Age of contempt 55 of 55
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 30 lines 8-APR-1988 02:56
-< Finalights >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And then he distinguished a coming car in the distance. But he
kept quite, and silent. And the car stopped by his side, and a
man that it looked familiar to him got out of the car.
It was his son, and his wife Martha, and Ethel... and two men
that undoubtly were dressed like doctors, that undoubtly, were
behaving like doctors.
And he remembered they were talking to him, kindly, like the
people use to talk to insanes and those that are termed 'mad'.
They got him into the car, and he was happy because, at least, he
could look out thru the window. They were still talking a strange
language. "These people talk and talk forever, I'm loving the way
they move their lips, and sure there's a mystery behind those
moving lips... I must stare at them, that way they will never get
inside me".
And the car got lost in the distance, leaving the road behind.
But a thought was floating in the air:
"IT IS TRUE NOW THAT WE ARE LIVING IN THE AGE OF CONTEMPT"
[It doesn't matter what happened after, but the grey factory
did not look as before, the entire Universe had changed...
although the Milky Way was still in its place...].
Note 105.3 Death and Dying 3 of 14
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Nietzschean Activist Condemning You" 20 lines 15-MAR-1988 03:44
-< Don't know what to say >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm not prepared yet to face death as I would like to. I haven't
lost friends or beloved relatives, except those that the time carries
away.
The only thing I'm sure is that there were people centuries ago
who thought of death and adopted a more open-minded approach (Greeks,
Egyptians, Vikings, Mayas, Celts, etc.). I know we have killed the
positive side of death during all these years. That death hurts
is no wonder, for we systematically fight against 'her', neglect
'her', deny 'her'.
I know not what to say about it, can't find the proper words, but
I remember someone who wrote about death and a long corridor...
I know in Indonesia they make a feast (f�te sauvage?) about the
whole thing. I know I never could smile or feel happy in such a
situation, but it makes me wonder why two thirds of the planet look
at me surprised when I start talking about 'our' death in the West.
I know is not much: they prepare for the feast all their life.
================================================================================
1 ... and me
================================================================================
Note 103.0 ... and me 50 replies
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I'm beyond god...!" 15 lines 15-FEB-1988 08:27
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Whether the black angel was real or not, I can't say. He was only
playing an harp, a golden and sparkling harp. As he played,
glints of purpled voices filled the room, and the shadows started
to dance around me. I was but looking the whole thing, amazed.
And the black angel looked at me smiling, silently staring my
eyes... and it was wonderful, because I thought of me and
remembered my old book about Old Norse mythology... a book I read
when in Iceland... and I remembered also I was walking by the
sea, and iced sea, wind in my face, a cold wind telling me reasons
about not giving up...yet...
...and then, I closed the book slowly, and the vision started to
vanish in the air... and everything was gone, the harp, the angel,
my shadow, and me.
================================================================================
Note 103.1 ... and me 1 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I'm beyond god...!" 55 lines 15-FEB-1988 10:35
-< Tangram >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My friend is a strange guy. You never know whether he is looking
at you or you are looking at him. I always thought he was not
from this reality, maybe because I only meet him in my dreams.
My friend, I said, is a strange one, for he is always smiling
when you approach to him to tell him some news about our world.
Last night I was dreaming of him, far away in Tangram, where he
lives most of the time. "Are you there?" I asked. The whole space
was silent, sundusted nebulous gliding over a gleamed desert...
"Are you there?" I asked again, "I have another question for you,
can you hear me?". After a while, my friend appeared in front of
me. I know not whether he was looking at me or it were me the one
looking at him. He never tell. "I have another question for you"
I said quietly. He smiled. "It's just a question I found
yesterday in my pocket; is a beautiful question, indeed. I was
walking this morning among the trees of the wood and then I
happened to put my hand into the pocket and, well, I found it". My
friend was still smiling at me. Far in the distance I was able to
watch the Earth moving, dancing, under crystal clouds.
"What's the question?" he asked at last. I closed my eyes and,
very slowly, clearly pronouncing, said "Am I alive?".
A liquid darkness started falling, no stars inside my pupils, my
heart beating as the time passed, the space collapsing in my
mind... my friend was talking, smoothly, music in my ears "It is
really a beautiful question the one you've found; it is no
surprise for me, for it was me who put it there last night while
you were sleeping. It's just the ultimate question, for once
you have found who you are, you still need to know whether you
are alive or not... a meaningful question, no doubt". I was
floating inside me, with my hands holding the time axis in front
of my face. My friend went on talking, in fact, he never started
talking, he is always looking at you, no need to talk... "maybe
you dare to travel beyond Tangram, beyond Phaedra, over Ashref,
your whole life travelling, and in the last second, in the last
mile, you happen to put your hand into your pocket, and there it
is... the most beautiful question of all... maybe you had it all
in your life, maybe you loved and were loved, maybe you kept the
whole Universe under your telescope, into your room, inside your
bed, maybe you even loved the sea, the stars, the wood, and the
mountains, too... maybe you even got a friend somewhere in the
galaxy, who had locked the noise in a glass and set free the
endless silence... if you did all that... you are still...
dead...". Suddenly, I opened my eyes. My friend wasn't there,
everything wasn't there, nothing was there. I felt terribly
alone, in the deep solitude of the last night... but then, I
happened to put my hand into my pocket, I touched a warm thing
inside, and I felt myself much better.
My friend is a strange guy. You never know whether he is looking
at you or you are looking at him. I always thought he was not
from this reality, maybe because I only meet him in my dreams.
================================================================================
Note 103.2 ... and me 2 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I'm beyond god...!" 89 lines 15-FEB-1988 12:14
-< MUSIC >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ON ANY OTHER DAY
"That's the algebra of the one who knows everything" she said.
But I wasn't listening. "And there is a logic in every madness,
even in the irrationality, even in the nonsense, there is no
chaos but a weak order!" she cried. But I wasn't listening. Then
the orchestra began to play. The director conducting the
orchestra was fiercely staring to the pianist and cried "Let
there be more hate!".
All of a sudden, she jumped from her seat and cried to her best
"That's it! Let there be more hate!". After a second, I started
listening to the harmonious melody. "It's a heavenly music indeed!"
I said. But she wasn't listening. "It's really love what I'm
feeling!" I cried louder. But she wasn't listening. Then the
orchestra stopped playing, the director fiercely staring at the
violinist and whispered "Let there be love...". But nobody was
listening.
YEARS AFTER...
"I don't like that music" my little son said. "In fact, I even do
not believe there is someone who can call music to that". But my
wife and I weren't listening. "I mean, there's neither hate nor
love in that pentagram" he concluded.
My wife looked at the boy very sadly, then at me, and whispered
in my ear "do you remember that time in which there were hate and
love within the music?". I looked at the boy, then at her, and
said "Yes, there was a time in which you could love or hate all
of a sudden, but now it seems to me everything is lost". And the
boy was watching us with ice in his smile, horrible eyes, and the
four walls trembled...
THE MINUTE BEFORE
"Mum's dead", he said looking out through the window. "Emptyness,
I guess..." he continued. "Maybe not enough love and hate". I
wasn't listening. "You talk as if you knew what is love and hate,
but you are unfortunate, for you can listen to music" I said.
"I know, I know... life's a symphony for those with ears" he
whispered. And my wife vanished, like those thoughts that go when
the music is definately dead.
*******************************************************************
DARK LONG SAD CORRIDOR
A little girl came to my door, silently knocked, and after a
while, as I didn't open, she turned around her heels, and quietly
left.
"Dark long sad corridor is this, for when I catch to see the last
hope, it goes without waiting for me".
**********************************************************************
STAIRS
That's the stairs. I need to reach to the top, for someone is
waiting for me up there. Tired I feel, even thinking of climbing
makes my legs frozen, so I chase around and say to myself "In
fact, who can assure up there is someone waiting for me?".
And a rose fell to my feet from the above. So my heart starts
beating again, I rush to the stairs and, then again, tired I
feel...
************************************************************************
TELEPHONE
I'm sitting in front of the telephone. I was just lost in my
thoughts, looking without seeing.
I think of the telephone, figuring out what would I do if it
rings... and suddenly the phone rings. Just for a second, I felt
the whole hate of Heaven over me!
*************************************************************************
================================================================================
Note 103.3 ... and me 3 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I'm beyond god...!" 16 lines 16-FEB-1988 05:56
-< Beyond my terminal... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Four by four, eight by eight, a dark classroom in the winter. Not
enough light. Can't see the blackboard. The videoterminal filled
with serious numbers. Quantum mechanics. An old teacher is
talking to us.
An equation on the blackboard reflected automatically in the
screen. "That's the meaning of energy" says the teacher. I look
at the terminal. See nothing. "See nothing!" I cry. The teacher
smiles and says "Rub�n, that's because you are only looking at
the terminal. Try looking beyond your terminal, beyond the
screen".
That's the meaning of energy... looking beyond the terminal.
Rub�n.
================================================================================
Note 103.4 ... and me 4 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I'm beyond god...!" 17 lines 17-FEB-1988 11:58
-< OLD NORSE >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Old Norse classroom. The teacher is talking about how did the Norsemen
approached war and how did this word first appear in their language.
Talking about long winter evenings, needs, Odin, Loki, mythology,
windy days, death, Vallhalla, a place beyond this world, fate,
anti-heroes, England, sea...
"So, they considered war a normal style of living from which they
derived the concept of Paradise". War as a one-way ticket to paradise.
I raise my hand and ask ma question: "But, if they realize there
is no paradise after war, what then?". The teacher comes close to
me and whispers in my ear "That's the next war after war, but it's
a personal one, with no enemies, no weapons, no victory but loneliness,
a crude war indeed because if you win, you are defeated, and if
you loose, there's nothing left".
I think of it for a while... say, they NEEDED war!
================================================================================
Note 103.5 ... and me 5 of 50
GEARHD::LOUGH "I could go East, I could go West.." 11 lines 1-MAR-1988 22:01
-< Ah, Vahalla (sp?) and the right hand of Odin >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
< Note 103.4 by MDRLEG::RUBEN "I'm beyond god...!" >
-< OLD NORSE >-
>> I think of it for a while... say, they NEEDED war!
Aye, that they did! A wee example of some problems
related to ideolized religion, eh.
Brian
================================================================================
Note 103.6 ... and me 6 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Language is a virus" 18 lines 2-MAR-1988 13:03
-< FREJYA AND LOKI TALKING >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... and then a little boy was standing in front of Erik. And Erik
was ready to kill him. And then the boy asked why he was to die,
and Erik replied "We are in a war!". And then the boy said he had
no idea of being in a war. And Erik raised his sword and killed
the boy all of a sudden. And all the warriors were staring at him.
And Erik looked at the lying boy... and they say the boy was smiling
at him... and nobody knows for sure, but there are some of them
who say that the boy whispered something sounding like "We were
not in a war. It was YOU who needed the war, so you invented an
enemy to justify the existence of war. Now I'm dead in the mud,
but still happy: you have killed the War".
And they say that's the reason why the Vikings never invaded a foreign
land and why they always returned home after a war: just because
Erik knew that little boy was right about the whole thing.
Say, they NEEDED war!
================================================================================
Note 103.7 ... and me 7 of 50
LEDS::BATES 41 lines 2-MAR-1988 16:22
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Tell me more about that time," says Ariel much later, turning toward
him and resting her head against his shoulder.
"Ancient history," Prospero yawns and stretches his free arm. "When
the Visigoths and Huns flew through the skies and attacked the
children of the Etruscans. But who was the ally, and who were the
enemy? Early in the struggle, we had cast our lot with the barbarians,
and their strange banner, with its broken-armed cross, had flapped
in the spring breezes blowing across the Piazza della Signoria.
And their leader had come, speaking to us for hours, while we roared
our approval. Then we went back to our homes, and the war began."
Eyes closed, Ariel sees giant figures on horseback jousting, a fallen
warrior and his mount cleaving a reddened battlefield in two.
The painting hung, huge and threatening, on a wall in the Uffizi.
"I was in Arezzo, on business, and it was mid afternoon. The streets
were empty, and the sun shone hot and bright. As I turned a corner
near the cathedral, my shadow stretched long across the wall of
a building, and there was a burst of machine gun fire from behind me
that barely grazed my head, pinning my image to the bricks before
me. I was frozen there for an instant, my shadow assassinated by
a sniper. But who? a Nazi sharpshooter? A brownshirt? a fighter
from the resistance?
"At that moment, as I dropped to the ground and scurried for the
safety of a doorway, I heard my own voice, shouting hoarsely for
death, and war.
"I was the enemy." He stopped, and repeated. "It was I pulling the
trigger of the gun, killing my own shadow."
Ariel was quiet. Then, "Horrible." She shivers.
Prospero sighs. "Tesoro, you asked for a story. I have given you
a myth for the ages."
================================================================================
Note 103.8 ... and me 8 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Nietzschean Activist Condemning You" 51 lines 3-MAR-1988 05:37
-< Where are you, Ariel? >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Years after, Sigurd approached me and said "Ca�n, tomorrow we will
sail again from Herdgurds?nn; this time, we are going to reach an
unknown land whose people speak a strange language".
I knew he meant we were going to sail beyond Ireland, turning slowly
towards Normandy, then sailing thru the river Aegji?rr (Sena), then
walking as far as Italy. Once there, we would wander across the
land where the Etruscan live.
It took us two years reaching our target. Many enemies we killed
in our way. But I will never forget the day in which we took a glance
for the first time to an Etruscan village. It was almost dark, Odin
was with us, no doubt. I approached Aegir, the oldest of us all.
"Aegir" I said "Who are this people? Where do they come from? What
language do they speak? How do they live? Are they strong people?
How are their women and children?"
Aegir was looking at Erik, there, sat in front of the fire briefing
the warriors. "Ca�n", said to me Aegir, "although you was born far
away and you are not one of us, and even when the language you speak
is the oldest one on Earth, even the wisest men of your people know
nothing about the Etruscan. Nobody knows where they come from and
who was the first speaking their language. But I remember many years
ago when we had caught one of them and came back home with him.
All the way back, in the ship, I tried to talk to him, but he was
only repeating a strange name that sounded to me like Eriag, or
Aried, or maybe Ariel...". I was staring at him, listening carefully
all and any of his words. He went on "When I first met you, you
were a little child speaking something like Hebrew I think... I
educated you, modelling you to be critical, I taught you to keep
looking at everything around you, respecting everyone, valuing
differences, and loving this world but... now we face a new people
and culture. Erik will destroy him, although is written in the runes
that no one of us will escape from here: we all will die and nobody
will ever remember we once were here".
That night I had a dream. I dreamt of an Etruscan coming to my bed
and giving me a strange piece of stone in which someone wrote something
strange with blood. There I couldn't understand anything, but the
last word was written in Old Norse. That word was "intet", 'nothing'.
I got up very late the day after. I was left alone. I rushed to
the watching point: nobody there. I looked at the place where the
Etruscan village was standing the day before: there were nothing
left, as if all was but a nightmare. Just a little child was playing
with something. I carefully approached him. He looked at me
indifferently.
He was holding a stone, *the* stone I dreamt of. This time, the
last word was 'alting', 'everything'. After reading the word, the
child vanished in the air... where are you now, Ariel?
================================================================================
Note 103.9 ... and me 9 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 39 lines 15-MAR-1988 13:44
-< SILENCE >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The same quite silence that fills an empty room, a park of children
in a winter evening, a cemetery full of mud, a desolated frontier
pass...
A silence penetrating even beyond he who observes, filling with
emptiness what before was filled even with tired heart beat. A
historical silence drying the pupils of he who looks around and
only catches to see objects with no noise, inmersed in a calm
sea... it seems that the morning noise lies rugged in those
objects, the noise of a frentic activity on Friday night.
Silence like that of a southern road burned by the summer sun,
the silence in a wood after a fire, in the dark dawn. Silence
full of emptiness, quiteness, death. We can't stand a
jail's silence, the silence of a cathedral in the middle
of nowhere, that silence that gets stucked in our hands after
smashing a bird, the silence after shooting the head of a baby,
after a hate explosion, after the last kiss to a dead angel.
Cars go down the road slowly, like the snow when melting, like
the sun when sinking behind a rugged horizon. Silence stronger
than the buzz of the last neon light of a destroyed city,
stronger than the silence of a widow's bed the very first night,
than the look of a little orphan child when someone pronounce the
word 'mother', that silence we experience when we remember lost
memories, a no return dark tunnel, in the underground station
where a rose tries to bloom each time someone steps on it. No
more dead cats on the roads, nor dead moons, no black angels
playing the harp, nor a dead eye in the mud.
No toxic embrace, no lethal invents. No more war songs, no cries
for a dead friend, no storms over an frozen ocean. There will be
no blooded skies, nor stones in the desert blooding.
Only silence, that same empty silence filling a dark room.
Rub�n, 15 de marzo de 1988.
================================================================================
Note 103.10 ... and me 10 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 77 lines 16-MAR-1988 06:10
-< Esther goes for a walk >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>
-< Prepare for immediate launch... >-
================================================================================
Note 32.0 Craaaaack! 1 reply
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Nietzschean Activist Condemning You" 36 lines 14-MAR-1988 10:36
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yup!! 26 letters taken randomly to build an alphabet
Zaaap!! the set of meanings lying on the floor
Zspringt! vowels jump, jimp, yamp
Stetpt! I step on them once and again
"Are you playing again with the alphabet, dear?"
"Yes, I am"
"Be careful, last time you invented a new language and you still
remember what happened, don't you?"
"Yes, mum, I do"
"So, please, put the letters in the drawer and come here with us"
"Yes, mam, going"
Craaack! Letter B broken in two
Raaaasgh! C in rugs, E trying to escape sssssscapppt! Got you!
"Say, did you hear me, dear?"
"Yes, mum"
"Come here now!"
The box of verbs now in my pocket
"... you mind...here with us?"
The box of adverbs now in my hand
"...you mind... with us?"
The box of pronouns, particles, prepositions and nouns onthe table
".......?"
"Sorry, mum, can't hear you!!!!!"
================================================================================
Note 32.1 Craaaaack! 1 of 1
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Nietzschean Activist Condemning You" 25 lines 15-MAR-1988 08:28
-< Rattlanaggle, rattlenaggle >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dim, dim dam, dim sounds the colorain on my windowind,
flussssssssheeeeellll, can hearain windurling,
"So they say I'm completely alone, again and again?"
Zsssss! Zsss! a cloudust surrounding me
"So they just think of that for a moment?"
Blinglegole, a crystalight smashing against the floor
"They must be joking, I'm gonna take a trip to the past, tomorrow"
Diiiiuuuoor... a door opens slowly, quietly, calmly...
"Na yeah, think of wandering for a while..."
"Dear?"
"Yes, mum"
"You alone? What are those noises there?"
rattlanaggle, rattlanaggle, sounds the brainighter under my bed
"Yes, mum, absolutely alone"
================================================================================
Note 103.11 ... and me 11 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 25 lines 16-MAR-1988 06:19
-< Esther goes for a walk >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Esther, would you mind if... I mean, would you like we both going
to... say, do you like music?"
"Music? Yes, of course, where are you trying to go?"
"I have tickets for tonight, Webern and Stackhousen"
"Webern doesn't turn me on. The other one I guess is 'Stockhausen',
true?"
"Well, yes, obviously... Stack... haousen..."
"No, I can't go with you. I prefer to go for a drink, what about
you?"
"Right, 5 at Baarish's?"
"Impossible, 6 at Kendall's"
"Okay, 6 at Kendall's".
Stockhausen was marvellous, Webern superb! The only thing being
that I was still thinking of the reason why she didn't appear at
Kendall's.
================================================================================
Note 103.12 ... and me 12 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 17 lines 16-MAR-1988 06:29
-< Tlyk, tlak, tlyk, tlak >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mum is looking thru the window. Rainy and nasty weather. The clock
sounds quietly (tlyk, tlak, tlyk, tlak).
I'm looking thru the window. Estheraining, obviously. The clock
sounds quietly (tlyk, tlak, tlyk, tlak). Mum is now crying, very
slowly, thinking of the reason for each of the tears, the clock
seems to listen, me too.
In the light of my cigarrette I understand I'm completely alone.
Mum, too. I take a look at the clock. No-minutes to the hour.
Mum closes her eyes. The wind blows outside a sad street. I llok
at her and get to see her tired eyes. "Too much time waiting, you
know".
I look again at the clock. No sound. It's stopped. Too much time
waiting for a wall clock to understand.
================================================================================
Note 103.13 ... and me 13 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 13 lines 16-MAR-1988 06:34
-< Ill-illuminated room >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Small ill-illuminated room. Five hours with her, the doctors are
exhausted.
What it seems to be the more experienced approached me. He looks
to the floor. Silence.
I stand there for years. The doctor speaks to me. I sit on a dark
corner. My lips are extremely cold.
Five hours with her. The whole life condensed in an ill-illuminated
room. "You feel okay?" says the doctor. But can't hear him. Just
can't hear him.
================================================================================
Note 103.14 ... and me 14 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 11 lines 16-MAR-1988 06:40
-< Teaching my TV how to read >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Switch the TV on. Take a book. Lit a cigarrette. Put the book in
front of the screen.
"What the hell are you doing?" asks Esther. "I'm teaching the TV
how to read". "Okay" says her "but how do you know the TV will like
the book?".
I switch the TV off. Drop the book. Close my eyes and then, scared,
open them again. Esther is gone. The TV is switched off. But the
book is not there. "Esther" I said to me "I know it's you who hates
the book".
================================================================================
Note 103.15 ... and me 15 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 7 lines 16-MAR-1988 06:44
-< Familiar voice >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Is anybody out there?"
I'm tempted to answer. But I don't.
"Is anybody out there?" asks Esther again. I'm just breathing. Finally,
I answer "Me, Esther".
A long silence. And then, a familiar voice "Is anybody out there?"
================================================================================
Note 103.16 ... and me 16 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 9 lines 16-MAR-1988 06:51
-< Dead hand >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We both walking. We didn't walk for years. I'm excited again.
Esther is just beside me. I take her hand.
Black clouds in the sky.
"Is gonna rain" she said mechanically. Her hand is cold, heavy,
like a dead hand.
Finally, it started to rain... heavely.
================================================================================
Note 103.17 ... and me 17 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 21 lines 16-MAR-1988 07:02
-< Esther meets my brother >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My little brother is a clever boy. I introduced him to Esther last
afternoon.
They both kept looking each other for a while. Then she said "I'm
Esther, how are you?". My brother goes on looking at her, staring.
"What? You don't speak a single word?" she says. My little brother
is still stoned there. Curiosity in his tiny eyes.
Esther tries once more "If you tell me your name I will give you
an icecream". My little brother just yawns. Esther is irritated.
Turns to me and says "Hey! What's the matter with him? Is he deaf?"
"No" I answered. "He is autistic".
Esther astonished. Tries to put one of her faces, looks to the boy
sadly and leaves the room.
I take my brother in my arms. Kiss him in the face and whisper "Guio,
Do you understand now why I love being inside your own world?".
My little brother winks. He is a clever boy.
================================================================================
Note 103.18 ... and me 18 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 6 lines 16-MAR-1988 07:11
-< Estherings the phone >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The phone Estherings. "Hello?". "Hallo, Rub�n, Esthere, just wondering
if you can go shopping with me this evening".
"Yes, Estwhere?" I ask. "Raddle's" she answers. Hang the phone.
The telephone bursts out laughing at me. Estheroutine, Estheroutine!
================================================================================
Note 103.19 ... and me 19 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 20 lines 16-MAR-1988 07:21
-< AFRT Services, FM Stereo >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"American Forces Radio and Television Services, at 100 point 2 FM
stereo. At the sound of the tone, time will be 8 o'clock. Beeeep"
The radio enjoys talking to me.
"Hier ist Deutschewelle, wir ausenden...".
The radio is lovely this morning.
"Dette er Norge, NRK fra Oslo".
Yes, the radio loves talking languages. When she knows for sure
I'm enjoying she starts giving the news... "Don't insist. You are
not talking to me, you are an old radio and you never worked. You
are useless, I have spent lots of evening trying to fix you, but
nobody cares about selling me old spare components for a model that's
no more produced. I'm sorry tellin' you".
The radio stops giving me the news. I love the faith she has in
me. It makes me feel alive.
================================================================================
Note 103.20 ... and me 20 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 4 lines 16-MAR-1988 07:28
-< Esther, after the rain >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The whole Earth shakes, the seas sink, the rivers change their course,
the moon explodes, the sun freezes. I know, I know, another postcoital
feeling impelling me to neglect routine!
================================================================================
Note 103.21 ... and me 21 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 3 lines 16-MAR-1988 07:31
-< Return of the same >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was. I am. I will be. I won't be. I was.
"Still checking the return of the same?"
================================================================================
Note 103.22 ... and me 22 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 5 lines 16-MAR-1988 07:36
-< Kafka >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Mum is sick" says Esther. I can clearly see her mother's sickness
in her eyes. "Mum is about to die". I can see death in Esther's
mouth. "Mum died yesterday. Funeral's tomorrow".
I remember Kafka ("How sick looks everything that is born!")
================================================================================
Note 103.23 ... and me 23 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 8 lines 16-MAR-1988 09:52
-< Till I become the horse! >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wanna ride my horse, timescaping away, running ahead, running and
freefalling, gliding over the world, wanna ride my horse till I
become the horse, till I become the air thru which I run, till I,
finally, disappear. Want to ride my horse!!
[Feelings in a restaurant while dinning with Esther]
================================================================================
Note 103.24 ... and me 24 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 27 lines 16-MAR-1988 11:17
-< Esther driving towards Eilat >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Fiat is running well. Too much hot. Hassidic music on the recorder.
No traffic signs. The Dead Sea on the left in our way to Eliat.
A military jeep is stopped on the right side. A young soldier waves
his hands to us. We stop. His head inside the car thru the window.
"Shalom, mi atta?"
"Anahn� Esther v'Rubn. Shefardim"
The soldier gets back to talk to his peer. They laugh for a moment.
Then he came back. Lits a cigarrette looking at me and makes an
indication for us to go on driving.
"Why do they call it 'Dead Sea'?" asks Esther.
"They say the density of salt is so high that no fish can live there".
"No fish?"
"No fish"
"What if I stop the car, go there for a while a bring back a fish?"
I smile sadly. She stops the car, gets out, crosses a fence, reaches
to the sea and then comes back to the car. A little fish in her
hand.
"Now what?" she asks looking at me directly to my eyes.
"Never thought of that being possible. My teacher of Geography is
a liar"
"He's not" she says "it's just me the liar".
================================================================================
Note 103.25 ... and me 25 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 3 lines 16-MAR-1988 15:41
-< Sleeping with Esther >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sleeping with Esther? Fondling a tightly curled sea!
================================================================================
Note 103.26 ... and me 26 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 18 lines 17-MAR-1988 03:01
-< Esther when reading >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Esther was reading in the room. I was looking at her silently.
Her hair was lovely under the blue light of the lamp. She was
extremely wonderful that way. As her fingers passed the sheets
and her eyes were searching for words, her tongue was slightly
touching her lips. It seemed to me that all the stars have fallen
inside her eyes.
An old photograph fell to the floor. She didn't notice. After a
while, she closed the book, turned the lamp off and went to
sleep. I picked up the picture from the floor: it was an old
photograph I took once showing Esther when reading and, were the
light on, I could be able to see my figure at the upper right
corner of the photograph looking at her...
Now it was clear to me that love can be locked in an old picture.
================================================================================
Note 103.27 ... and me 27 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 16 lines 17-MAR-1988 03:03
-< Guio, getting out of the school >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was standing out of the fence, watching the children getting
out of the Special Care School. The school is very expensive:
autistic children are very rare, they say.
Guio was walking slowly. He looked very tired. Strange for a
child like him. Suddenly, he saw me, started running towards me,
dropping the satchel, just flying.
When he embraced me I was crying. "My boy" I said, "I wish God
killed us this way someday".
But he couldn't hear me. God either...
================================================================================
Note 103.28 ... and me 28 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 5 lines 17-MAR-1988 03:04
-< Paseo repentino >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you walk thru the night, if you ever feel the cold wind in
your face, how could you still think of being dead?
================================================================================
Note 103.29 ... and me 29 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 5 lines 17-MAR-1988 03:05
-< Beautiful >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nothing more beautiful than the word 'beautiful' spoke by Esther.
Nothing.
================================================================================
Note 103.30 ... and me 30 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 26 lines 17-MAR-1988 03:31
-< Nothing left >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Esther:
You've changed my place in this world. I have opened the
old suitcase in which I was keeping all of my dreams:
the Army, the family, Guio, the University, and you.
My suitcase was completely full. I noticed it one sad
afternoon when trying to keep inside my memories, my
photographs, my travels, my letters, my friends, and
your eyes. Had no choice, but to give up some of them.
Had no choice, but to take away some of them.
All night long thinking about them, setting priorities,
weighting them. I didn't get your help (you are always
busy trying to get your ideas squared away, trying to
find a way ahead.
Esther, I have taken away your eyes... and now, when
I look inside the suitcase I see it's empty.
There is nothing left.
Rub�n.
================================================================================
Note 103.31 ... and me 31 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 4 lines 17-MAR-1988 05:59
-< Singed >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My love for you, Esther, is becoming something like the one a
summer fly feels for the light of a lamp: it flies around the
lamp till it touches it, and then it sticks there singed.
================================================================================
Note 103.32 ... and me 32 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 11 lines 17-MAR-1988 06:01
-< Statue in a park >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"You'd better go home" said my friend. "A hard night again?"
I asked, "No, just a visit to the hell" he answered.
Walking alone across the city. My eyes looking the floor.
Cigarrettes, dead cats, and rubbish. Stepping on it.
I reach a dark park, enter there and sit on a bench. In front
of me a statue of a Greek maid: "You'd better go home before
you become a statue like me" she whispers.
================================================================================
Note 103.33 ... and me 33 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 8 lines 17-MAR-1988 06:02
-< Looser >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dinning with Esther, I said before, was just a game. She
says a word, and you must pretend you are interested.
The game ends with Esther asking you for telling her something
new and different about how much you love her. All of a sudden,
you get petrified "Would you like a coffe?". She smiles, extend
her hand slightly touching your face and says "Your a looser".
================================================================================
Note 103.34 ... and me 34 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 15 lines 17-MAR-1988 06:03
-< Back home late in the night >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Esther is scared. Is not the first time. Always the same
process: I get down for a couple of days, then come back
home late but happy. She suspects of a mysterious meeting
with an old girlfriend who never existed. Starts talking
about protection, self-respect, care, and the things we
have made together and I can't never remember.
I listen carefully, then some tears come to her broken
eyes, and when she is expecting me to take her in my arms,
I just make a comment about how easy do young people claim
they are facing a crisis.
The look of my eyes is cold, like the look of a statue in
a dark park.
================================================================================
Note 103.35 ... and me 35 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 7 lines 17-MAR-1988 08:41
-< Fast lane >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Is a secure place, the safest I've found. No bars, nor secret rooms
in an uknown hotel. No walkings anymore. No imaginary islands, but
the car.
M-30 night driving. Lights coming to me, driving madly under orange
neon lights, the radio's playing. Switching from one lane to the
next. Living in the fast lane. Always living in the fast lane.
================================================================================
Note 103.36 ... and me 36 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 2 lines 17-MAR-1988 08:44
-< Traffic jam >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... although finally you get caught in one of those traffic jams
where all the loosers meet at night...
================================================================================
Note 103.37 ... and me 37 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 94 lines 17-MAR-1988 11:19
-< Coping with the daily storm >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"So the process is non-reversible. The autistic child falls into
a catathonic state loosing all connections with the external reality.
As there are no interactions with the external world, he collapses
more and more into an internal world. The mental loop feeds back
itself. As he grows, the autistic child feels unable to grasp
linguistic skills. He become an uneducated person according to the
standards. Psychotropic drugs like LSD and DMP have been used to
try to rescue them from that deep state, but no major findings are
reported. Special care is needed, and it's expensive, too. Living
with them is a hard task. Sometimes, they show what it's called
a 'window' thru which the autistic child tries to communicate his
feelings. That's all I can tell you"
The doctor is a good person, very supportive. It takes time to realize
how little do we currently know about this cases. It takes patient
to read books on neurology, cerebral diseases, genetic, DNA structure
and psychology.
Guio stands by me while I'm reading. I've spent lots of nights trying
to fix a computer-based instruction system for autistic children.
But time and again Guio sits in front of the keyboard and starts
crying or touching the keys randomly.
I remember a Rubik's graphics display I devised, full of changing
colors. I remember Guio looking at the scree in silent, moving slightly
his eyes, opening his mouth and touching the screen.
When I switched the screen off... Guio was still looking to an
undetermined point of it... looking for hours... without moving...
waiting for something or someone... little Guio standing there,
frozen... a locked door in his brain... a fucking locked door in
front of me!
*****************************************************************
Music, they say, is also advisable to deal with autistic children.
They just keep looking at the speaker for a while. Then, they fall
again deep back to their world, beyond the semantic layer, quite
away from this world... (where are you, Guio?)
Music, they say, is sometimes perceived like pink noise by autistics.
They just keep looking around, no fixed point in the space, no signs
of understanding.
******************************************************************
Guio was learning the alphabet. He is now 11 months studying the
meaning of letter 'A'. You may say he doesn't understand, but even
if he has failed for 4 months to play with the alphabet, he will
realize you have picked up letter 'A' and put it in your pocket.
He will look for it, and finally he will turn to you, with that
look only the eye of a child can get. You slowly get your hand into
the pocket, pick the letter 'A', show it to him... and he smiles.
*******************************************************************
Heard at DEC:
"I see, so it's like an endless loop, isn't it? The problem
being you do not have a CONTROL_Y to restore the program"
********************************************************************
Heard in a park near home:
"I see, I see... but he is not dangerous, is he? I mean, he is not
going to damage or attack my little son, is he?"
******************************************************************
Heard in the local kindergarten:
"Don't worry, we will have a caretaker doctor watching him
all of the time"
******************************************************************
Spoke by Esther:
"What about an operation in the hospital?"
******************************************************************
Mum to me, weeping:
"Don't know , just don't know... what are we going to do
next year? and the year after? what when I grow old enough
as to take care of him?"
******************************************************************
Me to Guio, while he sleeps:
"Never, never let them get into your room"
================================================================================
Note 103.38 ... and me 38 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 13 lines 17-MAR-1988 15:16
-< Eyes on the drawer >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ashtray full of cigarrettes, forming a dreadful world. The telephone
is dead besides the ashtray, some books and papers on the table,
too.
The desk calendar showing a past date, over a binder. Pieces of
sheets and an empty plastic glass with the remainder of what it
seems to be the fifth coffe of the morning. The picture of we both,
somewhat dirty, dust covered, turned invisible and asking for someone
to look at it.
The broken chair, the drawers and spots of ink all around.
And you still think everything is lost...
================================================================================
Note 103.39 ... and me 39 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 26 lines 18-MAR-1988 05:49
-< Sexing communication >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two kinds of love for two different and special beings. Whether
they love me 'cos they need me or they need me 'cos they love me.
I should guess Esther needs me because she loves me, while Guio
loves me because he needs me. And then again, the thing is completely
the opposite: Guio, with all his limitations, doesn't need me.
Esther, independent as she should be, needs me. She likes playing
with fire, playing all the strings of love dangerously, but she
knows for sure she couldn't stand my self-destruction.
Guio, on the other hand, loves me, simply loves me. I thought many
times he just needs me... but, then again, he is running towards
self-destruction.
Two kinds of love, for two very special persons. I wonder what's
inside this schizoid feeling I'm embracing right now. Sex doesn't
help: in one case, it was thought to be a communication link, a
cohesive tool, in the other it is unthinkable.
But now, I must find my sexual healing, recover the meaning from
the hands of the absurd. You can't go to sleep one night and expect
your whole life be changed next morning. Only convicts condemned
to death are allowed to expect it. And even then, they do not sleep
too much that night.
================================================================================
Note 103.40 ... and me 40 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 10 lines 18-MAR-1988 06:17
-< Self-destruction >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I suppose self-destruction starts and some point between disappointment
and routine, lack of freedom and, above all, lack of imagination.
I guess self-destruction is even powerful enough to justify all
defeats and decolor any achievement. The point of view of a dissenter
interests me a lot, the problem being the only dissenter I know
cannot talk to me, nor hear me.
I suppose self-destruction starts with a refusal, or at least with
a stupid smile and many, many cigarrettes a day...
================================================================================
Note 103.41 ... and me 41 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 16 lines 18-MAR-1988 09:08
-< Mysterious numbers and letters >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Esther says you can write an EDT.EDT program to replace each of
the letters in a file text by a set of 0's and 1's. The program
checking all of the versions created by this program till the last
two files, when compared, be identical.
She goes on arguing that, from a mathematical point of view, you
can expect to get strange combinations. By reversing the substitution
(i.e., 0's and 1's substituted endlessly by a set of letters) you
are to reach to the original file text.
Putting the VAX to work. Choosing a file text. Devising an .EDT
file. All of a sudden. In a jiffy. Two months running the program.
Late in the night I print the file, go home to read it.
There was a strange name embedded in one of the strings... a curious
name... and then I wake up.
================================================================================
Note 103.42 ... and me 42 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 7 lines 18-MAR-1988 10:40
-< Loopback >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm proud of my being proud of my being proud of my being...
And so on: endless loopback.
I love you because you love me because I love you because...
And so on: a lie travelling endlessly for the rest of your life.
================================================================================
Note 103.43 ... and me 43 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 4 lines 21-MAR-1988 03:04
-< Guio's logic >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Picking up carefully what you have carefully dropped doesn't work.
[Guio's first inferred logic rule after carefully dropping a glass]
================================================================================
Note 103.44 ... and me 44 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 12 lines 21-MAR-1988 03:29
-< Biological constraints >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There are corners in a house that you don't see for years. There
are drawers in a desk you have never open. In fact, there is a whole
universe of hidden places in the familiar environment of everyday.
And when you open those drawers, you get to see an old envelop.
And when you look inside, you see an old piece of paper with something
written on it.
But you can't read it... your old tired eyes again!
Biological constraints, says Esther, are cruel.
================================================================================
Note 103.45 ... and me 45 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 15 lines 21-MAR-1988 11:33
-< Contemporary Art >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Contemporary art. Looking to 'Noisy Picture' by Eschel and some
paintings by Kaszna ('Hidden Lady', 'Covered Lanscape').
Then you reach to R�erich 'In The Mountains Of Madness'.
There are some art students taking notes, looking fascinated at
the paintings. I approach silently to one of them and have a look
to the scratch pad. I can read "R�erich looks worried with the color,
as he states drawing is a pretext for color".
Besides this girl there's another one, also writing down her
impressions about the picture. I read "... although R�erich perfectly
knows the lines enclose colors".
Contemporary art makes me think of Esther as a pretext for loving.
================================================================================
Note 103.46 ... and me 46 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 16 lines 21-MAR-1988 11:47
-< Nuclear Attack >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Another Sunday visit to Esther's mother. The same pattern all of
the Saturdays of the year.
She opens the door with a big smile (I guess she's gonna ask me
how am I doing at work)"How are you doing at work, Rub�n?" she asks
with a big smile in her face.
Then we all sit at the table. I know she's gonna state she is the
best cook in the city. She's still smiling, hands me a dish and adds
"I guess I'm the best cook in the city!".
Esther watches TV. She doesn't pay any attention to us. I'm starting
missing a nuclear attack right now. Esther's mother talks about
her health, the same illness since I know the woman, the same
complaints, the same statements, the same conversation, the same
questions, the same feelings... except the long wished nuclear attack.
================================================================================
Note 103.47 ... and me 47 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 29 lines 22-MAR-1988 03:02
-< Esther leaves >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ESTHER LEAVES
=============
"Need talking to you" sounded Esther at the other end of the
line. I saw her coming slowly to me.
And she kissed to me as if I were toxic. And then started talking
on an University grant to study in the States. She was talking
about leaving for the States, about a Cray-8 computer they were
offering to go on her studies. "There's no such a computer here,
you know, it's my opportunity, maybe I will come back someday...
I can write you, if that doesn't hurt you... you have been the
most wonderful thing it has happened to my life... I will find
hard leaving you, believe me, but I've taken my decision and..."
"A Cray-8" I said sadly, "I can't compute that fast for you..."
and the skies broke over my head, and I felt myself as if a spear
had hit me in the middle of my heart... and then I saw her
leaving... disappearing in the streets.
And the only thing I was thinking of it was routine, failure,
disappointment... completely down. "A Cray-8 computer" I thought
"I can't compute that fast for you, Esther"...
*****************************************************************
================================================================================
Note 103.48 ... and me 48 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 20 lines 22-MAR-1988 03:04
-< Guio goes out of the Earth >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
GUIO GOES OUTSIDE THE EARTH
�-cydrine. An expensive drug. They only produce it in the
States, I was told. Guio was now assigned a room and a number.
Room 715, seventh floor. Only relatives allowed.
Mum has been there since the crisis began. Three nights. The
doctor recommends me to get her home. "Needs resting" he said.
Guio lying in the bed. Nobody there. Not even Guio. He's out of
this Earth. I know him quite well, I know when he's out, but have
never seen him so far, so distant.
�-cydrine. That's the price for Guio. A fucking DNA
miscomputation put Guio two thousand miles away. Two thousand
miles. Is very far.
================================================================================
Note 103.49 ... and me 49 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 30 lines 22-MAR-1988 03:05
-< Disassociation >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
DISASSOCIATION
I mean, sort of a blow, or a cruel final you refuse to believe.
The emptiness is so solid and dense that it doesn't allow you to
move. The memories so heavy that you can think of yourself. Your
images so powerful and strong, that you can't see anything else.
The shock so hard, that you can talk. The conceptual world so
brutely destroyed that you fail to control your nerves.
The sensation of breakdown so complete and so total that you can't
be. The silent so crude, that you forget all the sounds you knew.
Your mind so fastly travelling backwards that you loose contact
with your selfishness.
Your impotence so crystal clear, so inside and deep rooted, that
any help is denied. Your references so broken, that you can't
construct a single idea. And if they could break you into
infinite pieces, all of them would show a total collapse.
That's why you stand in front of the coffin and you can't hear
them. That's why now is raining in your mind, and the rainfall
never ends. That's why even Death is surprised of what she has found,
so amazed that she would prefer being dead before touching one of
the pieces she sees.
And you explode internally, turning your blood into dust, your
last sensation being absolute disassociation. Your last view,
Guio in the coffin.
================================================================================
Note 103.50 ... and me 50 of 50
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 37 lines 22-MAR-1988 03:07
-< Rub�n gets down >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
RUBEN GETS DOWN
===============
... and I think I walked for hours, like an autistic child,
walking without noticing it, walking towards nowhere... and I
reached the railway station, and sat for a while on the floor
without noticing people was looking at me... as if I were drunken
or simply mad... and I was far away from this world, watching the
couples kissing each other, watching a mother embracing her child
after a long trip back, watching the smoke...
And I remember I was standing near the rails, and thought for a
while everything was like a slow movie... and I was finally
autistic, too, because I didn't realize I was lying on the rails,
and the train passed over me, thru me, against me... and couldn't
hear the cries of the people, their looking at me horrified, the
police around my body, the train driver completely broken...
And I saw a long bright corridor, and Esther was at the bottom
looking at me with her big blue eyes wide open, and inside her
eyes I could see the face of Guio smiling at me... Guio... wait
for me a minute, hold there a second, wish talking to you... I
need talking to you... and then Esther closed her eyes, and Guio
disappeared... and the corridor became darker and darker, colder,
and hostile... Estheraining in my brain, Guio, where are you?
where are you... Guio...?
And the last thing I remember was a Cray-8 computer miscomputing
everything... too late for changing... mum, too late.
There's no way ahead, no way backwards, but the illusion of
movement.
Note 102.3 Dialogue with the Cabin 3 of 3
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I'm beyond god...!" 24 lines 12-FEB-1988 10:51
-< I'm crying... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... so after a while my girlfriend looks at me smiling "do you believe
in a virtual world?". A train sounds in the distance. I take a
cigarrette and repeat menatlly the question. As I wonder whether
we are in a virtual world or not, my girlfrien vanishes in the air...
a tangram cloud embraces her, and the whole pentagram breaks down
into a silent explosion of iced colorain... the sound of the train
takes the form of a horse... and Chaos pass by... and Psyche kisses
me sadly... and after a while I do realize she has gone to the real
world beyond the essence... beyond the last quasar in the last
galaxy... and I take my pocket calculator and start keying serious
numbers about a misterious equation someone gave me when sleeping
in my Ashra... far away, beyond an endless column... where darkness
brights stressing my eyes... and then, after a whole Universe of
glints, I start talking a strange language in which colors are tangible
and feelings are freefalling... floating... and the numbers smile
at me too... where night soldify, where I get melt with the objects
becoming a quasar travelling thru ages and tenderless oceans...
And I see a sparkling nova inside of which my girlfriend is still
smiling at me... and I approach to her... extend my hands... and
touch her... "Are you crazy?" she asks amazed. "I was asking you
whether you believe or not in a virtual world...". My cigarette
is now all ash in my hand. I'm crying. My God! I'm crying!
Note 27.16 Lucifer 16 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 95 lines 15-APR-1988 05:45
-< LUX FERRERE-->LUCIFER >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reply to .14:
I'm not an expert on deities, except for those in connection with
Norse mythology, Gothic ones and Edomites.
>"Simple dualism are simple dualism. Just about anyone can develop
one"
Partially true, but basically wrong. Dualism are dualism, but you
must develop only those possible dualisms, according to the
cultural sphere within which you operate.
Just as well as you can't create a divinity synthesizing a female
deity and a male one, you must not forget that ALL ANCESTRAL
DEITIES WERE GODESSES, female ones.
The old Hitites, for example (Water, Moon, War, Death). The
Egyptians (Isis), the Edomites (Rahab), and even the Norse ones
(Freija). The pre-Christian era was consistent in accepting
female godesses. In fact, the duality arose when two cultures
came into contact:
a) Those venerating Night, Darkness, Moon (goddesses of poets,
warriors, and ruling the community). No male gods accepted, for
the only vision was that life came from the woman.
b) Those venerating Sun and Light. First, they FORCED a
coexistence between male and female deities. Then, they gave
superiority to male gods and, later, the supressed the divine
essence of the female godesses (Christians, for example, but the
Roman and the Greek, too).
Sometimes, they invented a god half man half woman (Rahab was
termed hermafrodite...).
As for the discussion just going, my point of view is that the
religious change came in connection with cultural development in
a society in which commerce and war was the main concern. They
attributed men the responsibility for taking care of the
community and, in turn, the went up to the heaven to change the
sex of their deities.
That the Indoeuropean deities were all female is already widely
accepted. That they venerated Moon (The White Goddess) is also
evidenced (R. Graves, A. Tjorn, W.A. Effenberg, T. Nitzcy).
Simple dualisms go far beyond the mere cultural change. It also
affects and influences the religious essence and fate of a people
in a given point of their history.
The misery of a culture starts when the priests, the politicians,
and the 'establishment' all introduce a brutal change into the
collectivity. Etruscan, Hitites, Edomites and Eastern Goths were
all swept out of the face of the planet: they refused to accept
the change, for they loved too much their female deities.
The Christians, late-Greeks, Aztecs (in America) and many other
in central Europe gained the battle... and we have inherited now
a weak cultural heritage where male values dominate everything,
where commerce, science, and war determine the ethics of a
people, where returning to Nature is seen as a crime, where
poverty is seen as a cancer soon to be overcome substituting
religion by sciences, culture by economics, and justice by war.
Lucifer, is my own view, lost a battle because SHE ()
wanted to bring together the Moon and the Sun,
the darkness and peace and the Sun (Lucifer meaning 'she who
brings the light in the night--->Moon!!!, lately abbreviated
to Lux+ferre---> to bring light, light-bearing).
Finally, from a philological point of view, 'female' languages
(Sanskrit, Edomite, Tocharian) are the only remains of what once
was a flourishing culture.
What can you expect of a world where Death and Hate is considered
to be 'female' characters and 'Love' (Cupid) and 'War' (Mars) are
male ones?
What can you expect of those who defined Artemis as the goddess
of the moon (right there) and hunt (wrong here)?
Lucifer was female, moon lover, commerce hater, but they show us
a Christian God unable to have sex with a woman, and even the
only woman they accept had a son 'without sex intercourse'.
[These post-Hitites dumbs look to me like young lovers
whose girlfriends refused to make sex with them... and
they became celibate]
Note 27.12 Lucifer 12 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 37 lines 13-APR-1988 12:02
-< Just a comment >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm not fond of writing about mythology, as it happens that I'm
suspiciously interested in those characters that tend to be considered
with contempt or fear.
The only thing I have concluded from the various works and books
I have read about dualism, and more specifically Light and Darkness,
is that, in the remote age preceeding all ages, there was a cruel
fight between both of them. In PHILOSOPHY I posted, under
PHENOMENOLOGY, how the Greek considered Light to be born from Chaos
(Phaeton was the son of the sun, namely, Light). The woman in question
was Love (Agap�).
Now, the Caenites and Edomites (references took from the Easenites'
Scrolls -Dead Sea-) talk about Etsel as a kind of Chaos, from who
Tsel (Light) was born. The Edomites called Tsel using the definite
article L' (L'Tsel), from where, they say, derives Letsel and, lately
degenerated to simply Lets--->Latin 'Lux' (Light).
Surprising to know this is one of the few Latin words from which
backtracking can be done on his non-Indoeuropean ethimology.
Etruscan word for Lux, was Liats (pronunciation unknown), as stated
by one of the few well-known stone carving found in modern Italy
(the complete translation was "Field this badly light. No good for
sheep", where word light was, precisely, Liats.
The conections between Etruscan, Basque, Edomites and Caenites are
not very much analyzed, unlike Basque-Etruscan languages which are
now very well documented.
Summing up:
Although remotely, there's a chance 27.10 be right in attributing
some Tuscan connections to Lucifer...
[I can give copies about the books where I read all this, although
they are Spanish-written ones]
Note 26.13 What is Love/Hate ?? 13 of 22
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Ca�n was innocent" 59 lines 26-FEB-1988 02:38
-< The view from the darkness >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This excerp from a note in the Philosophy Conference set
hidden due to extension:
L O V E
When you love your girlfriend, your wife, your son, you should
love the piece of Universe in their eyes. Is thru the love to
them that you ultimately love life, the world. It is good
starting to love someone, it is bad stopping just there, just
where you have started to love. Extend your love to the world,
but not surrounding your beloved ones, but *thru them*. Kiss her
lips, and you will be kissing all the lips in the Earth. All the
eyes are beautiful now, every eyes being the reflection of your
own eyes. If you look with hate, you will see hate. If they look
at you with hate, don't worry, you will still see love, for the
only thing you may see in the eyes of the one looking at you is
your own love.
It is not the hate in the person in front of you that matters,
but your own way of looking. Kiss the lips of the one you love,
but do not close the eyes yet. Wait till you kiss completely,
wait till you feel you are loving, wait until you see your look
of love.
Embrace her, and you will be embracing the whole mankind. See
lesedic landscapes, floating around you, spacechoed in the
distance. Hellights in your eyes, because love requires lit eyes,
cyclonizing your awareness.. you are loving. The archview under
dawnight, your are daying, creating the new day, restoring
freefall backwards to where you started loving... her eyes
sparkling to allow you see your look again. Do you see love?
Therefore, you are...
A myriad memories falling inside your eyes... gliding over
*being*, iceageing the past, love sounds deep... don't worry now,
your are kissing... minded fireworks... lightsights... you are
being kissed surrounded by nebulous moondawns where glints of
quasarain become phaedric starwinds... aesthetic experience, you
may think, but we don't want you to think... risknowing in the
middle of the spacesky, sundusted surfaces where sunrains
snowalk, for you being kissed... while kissing... on a tangerine
dream... the old timenight of darkness fading away...
Reality mirrowed on her eyes, the eyes thru which you look while
being looked. That's pacifism: love violently, enthusiastically,
with the violence in your heart.
The enemy is still out there: refusing to quit. The compassionate
are also there refusing to kill the enemy.
What's hate? Kissing you and you still keeping an eye on the TV.
What's love? Kissing you and you still longing the kiss never ends...
Is that simple? No, it takes 2,000 years to notice it.
Rub�n.
Note 26.16 What is Love/Hate ?? 16 of 22
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Nietzschean Activist Condemning You" 15 lines 4-MAR-1988 15:17
-< WHETHER WE CAN LOVE OR NOT >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A friend of mine states the following:
"Maybe we can know for sure what love is. The question is whether
we CAN love or not. Think of a lyon when watching a bird. Maybe
he 'knows' what's flying, but he obviously CANNOT fly.
With hate we can state the same argument. Maybe you talk on hate
because you know what it is. But maybe you are biologically impaired
for hating... or loving"
My friend is my enemy, so I take his words very seriously. Just
wondering if someone here in the Cabin can coach me on whether we
can love or not. The remaining you leave it up to me.
Rub�n (21:15 here, but the system knows no time...)
Note 26.20 What is Love/Hate ?? 20 of 22
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Nietzschean Activist Condemning You" 21 lines 7-MAR-1988 13:51
-< Navigating, outer spaces >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yes, we all navigate thru a tenderless ocean, although icebergs
of hate must not be forgotten. I even think we do not know how to
hate either.
I for one believe love is stronger. I can't believe love equals
hate in force: navigation could be impossible that way.
But, talking on bonds, I just 'hate' those who defend us against
'hate' by instructing and commanding us towards a directed love.
I mean: sort of fed up listening caudillos ordering me to love.
Love must be spontaneous, autocritical, independent, instinctive.
When they insert a slice of logical thinking or a 'theory of love'
or a justification, they are killing love. That's why I turn into
a beast against them and my weak and fragile ship swingles...
Quite,Ca�n, just calm, otherwise you are going to drift away and
the ship will sink... (I know, I know, was feeling in that mood
again).
I DO love them, too.
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 154 lines 6-MAY-1988 09:35
-< Messages from the past >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At last!! I have been looking for my "Aesthetic Theory of Music"
in which there is three chapters devoted to "Between" (by the way,
this group, together with Tangerine Dream, is the only one cited
in the booklets of the German embassy).
On January, 12 I did post excerps of this 'theory' with my personal
view on music in QUILL::COMMUSIC (Notes 637.*, "You'll love ASHRA"
and 666.* "Spatial Music"). It's my intention, if nobody opposes,
to include here some of the very interesting dialogues that it took
place that week in that conference.
I'm including now note 637.3 (mind the date, for that time I was
fighting against the techies there!)
***********************************************************************
================================================================================
Note 637.3 3 of 21
MDR01::RUBEN 35 lines 12-JAN-1987 07:15
-< >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hiya again both Todd and Svein!
O.K. Let's talk about them. ASHRA TEMPLE is the name of the first
group formed by K.Schulze and Manuel G�ttshing (the former keyboards,
the latter guitarrist).
ASHRA music (except for the latest records) is that kind of gliding,
cyclonized, spacechoed, archoviewed music that appeals and invokes
your inner part in the brain. NEW AGE OF EARTH is a sonic colorful
glide over iced oceans, tangram landscapes, endless skies...
L.S.D. helps a lot in understanding what I mean.
Klaus Schulze is a different sound. PICTURE MUSIC resembles that
kind of solitude you feel when being alone surrounded of death seas
(kind of BLACK DANCE).
If someone of you has ever listened ENCORE by Tangerine Dream, I
can say ASHRA resembles "Desert Dream". But, with one improvement:
synthies made a sonic gliding curtain as a background from where
a sweet dreamful guitar can be heared making you close your eyes
and fly... TIMEWIND, by K. Schulze is but a bit like ASHRA, main
difference being that the former keeps your feet on earth while
the latter makes you float on the air.
I love too much this man (Manuel) just because he is a kind of
KOYAANISKAATSIE but from the audio view. What's more, Schulze (for
whom I feel a great respect as a musician) has a Wagnerian background
(like Tangerine Dream, whose pianos are very impressive) while ASHRA
is just a product of the new technologies: "Don't believe in a heaven,
I know how the Hell looks just looking around...I only want to fly
gliding over imaginary landscapes where colors are sounds and sounds
images and men are feelings you can embrace all together...".
I agree with it: I WANNA FLY TOO!!!!
Note 2.55 Who Are You? 55 of 62
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I'm beyond god...!" 15 lines 12-FEB-1988 11:27
-< CAIN >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... and after killing Abel, I felt myself wandering thru deserts
of blood... but I was happy as they condemned me for being the first
criminal... and then I reached to a village... and then I entered
there and nobody recognized me... and I was happy for I thought
I could at last start a new life... and then I saw a mob in the
middle of a marble square... and I asked what was going on there...
and a blind man told me "They are executing a man who killed his
brother years ago... it is a rite called 'justice'. We remember
the first criminal this way, thanking the gods for putting an end
to crime".
And I went to my desert, and under a cloudy sky, I started to weep.
Rub�n, brother of Ca�n.
2 ENDLESS COLUMN
================================================================================
Note 112.0 ENDLESS COLUMN 41 replies
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 6 lines 20-APR-1988 02:47
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It hasn't been written yet,
that poem going through your heart,
like a spear in the air
================================================================================
Note 112.1 ENDLESS COLUMN 1 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 18 lines 20-APR-1988 02:48
-< And he started to write... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I will write the best poem on Earth, that poem that will define
all poems, the poem of life, the poem everyone would have loved
written" he said.
"Yes, I will write the way I hate!" he whispered to himself. And
then he closed the door of his little room, opened the window and
looked to the sky.
"But I need to turn on the light of that dead moon, otherwise I
will never be able to write...".
And he started to write.
================================================================================
Note 112.2 ENDLESS COLUMN 2 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 8 lines 20-APR-1988 02:50
-< Each of the broken glasses >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That window reflected the clouds for years. But now is all
broken. I can see the pieces on the floor, and a piece of the
clouds are still reflected in each of the broken glasses.
================================================================================
Note 112.3 ENDLESS COLUMN 3 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 15 lines 20-APR-1988 02:52
-< Final meaning >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Each poem or writing is like a photograph: a particular fate
dictates its meaning according to a specific situation, but all
of them correspond to the same intent of the writer.
That's why the album of photographs makes a particular man to
yawn while another one struggles against the impelling feeling of
crying.
Each poem or writing is like a picture: it reflects a particular
situation in our life, while it explains the final meaning of it.
================================================================================
Note 112.4 ENDLESS COLUMN 4 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 16 lines 20-APR-1988 02:54
-< ...my lips touched hers... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have met a wonderful girl this morning lying beside me in the
bed. She told me she had the meaning of life written in her eyes,
and then she invited me to read it. "But beware, that you must be
close enough to see the writing inside my eyes and be the case
you fail to control yourself and kiss my lips, the mystery will
vanish in the air and you will never unveil it".
The girl was really beautiful and her smile showed a chain of
gems instead of teeth. "I will try" I said. And then I got to a
kissing distance of her eyes, my pulse trembling while my eyes
filled with tears as I saw the mystery vanishing and my heart
stopped beating when my lips touched hers...
================================================================================
Note 112.5 ENDLESS COLUMN 5 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 16 lines 20-APR-1988 02:55
-< Winter morning >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Got it!" he said while still in bed. "I will get up and write
about the winter mornings, the cool air in my face and frozen
waterdrops in the window!". And he got up in a spring, rushed to
the window and, once open, saw a frozen sparrow on the
shelf. He got amazed and scared. Then, sadly, he took the bird
in his hands.
He felt the cool air in his face and thought "God, a winter
morning has defeated me again".
And the dead eyes of the little bird in his trembling hands
filled the room.
================================================================================
Note 112.6 ENDLESS COLUMN 6 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Kafked heart, Nietzscheaning..." 7 lines 20-APR-1988 12:00
-< Glass of wine >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No. You can't make love if you make it. The same applies for a
glass of wine: you cannot state you have drunk it while there is
still wine in the glass.
================================================================================
Note 112.7 ENDLESS COLUMN 7 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Kafked heart, Nietzscheaning..." 25 lines 20-APR-1988 12:02
-< Not a writer... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Yes, maybe I'm not a writer. I am just pretending I feel like a
writer, I think like a writer, and I'm down like a writer. But is
all pretension. Everything is just a balance: living beyond
illusion or with the illusion. Living beyond the illusion of
being a writer and actually becoming a writer, or just living on
this side of the illusion and finally dying without becoming a
writer" he thought while walking alone over frosted leaves.
"All the stars in the sky are definitely rusted. My past travels
away at the speed of light... I can't be a writer, for every word
gets frozen in my hand, and my feelings hang from my trembling
lips...". He stopped in front of a trash can and looked down.
"Wonderful" he said sadly, "what kind of world is this that the
flowers grow beside a trash can?"
He looked at the flowers still a little bit, and sighing he
thought "Yes, maybe I'm not a writer".
And a dirty sun suddenly appeared behind a cloud.
================================================================================
Note 112.8 ENDLESS COLUMN 8 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Kafked heart, Nietzscheaning..." 28 lines 21-APR-1988 05:40
-< Uprooting >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Yes, I don't need to feel myself like a foreigner in this city. I
can walk thru the streets without hearing any strange language.
Provided nobody comes to ask the stupid question about the time
or an address or an unknown street, I am not forced to listen to
anyone.
This way I can walk for hours without knowing where I am. And
even if I don't look at the number plates in the cars, I can get
a reasonable feeling of independence. I like feeling not-
belonging. Yes, I can observe the people around to check whether
my clothes are alright: I don't want anyone to point at me and
say 'Hey! There goes a foreigner!".
It works fine. Three hours walking and I'm starting to forget
where I am, what country is this and what language do they speak.
It's wonderful this uprooting. I'm a complete stranger here, but
nobody notices it, nobody turns his head to look at me. Maybe
this way I do not owe to anyone my existence...
I can go there, I can stay here, I can look up, I can look down,
and still be miles away from all this people with faceless
expressions. Or hear the sound of my feet stepping on the
sidewalk... even my arms move freely, and I can sense the air
playing with my hair... it's wonderful this uprooting!"
================================================================================
Note 112.9 ENDLESS COLUMN 9 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 31 lines 21-APR-1988 05:46
-< Telescopes >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Okay" he said "if I can't be the best writer in the world, at
least I could try being the worst. After all, all I need is
picking an object, trying to describe it and that's it!".
He walked around his little room looking at the jumbled objects
on the table and picked up a piece of paper.
"I will describe this room, nobody better than me to explain how
my personal Universe works..." and he started writing.
"Once upon a time there was a clean and tidy table. No objects
were on it, and it seemed to be an empty universe... but one day
an ashtray appeared on the table, neither on the middle nor on
its side, but just located in some point between the borders of
the table..."
Then he stopped for a while, lit a cigarrette and resumed his
writing: "Once upon a time there was a clean and tidy ashtray.
Nothing was found inside... but one day a mysterious force
dropped ashes inside, and that was the beginning of whole new
world consisting on the ashes, the ashtray's borders limiting the
space and the mysterious force dropping more and more ashes..."
After a few minutes, he stopped with a smile in his lips, "Yuk!
Now I understand why all the astronomers feel ashamed when they
try to explain what they see thru their telescopes!".
And he screwed the paper up with rage.
================================================================================
Note 112.10 ENDLESS COLUMN 10 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 21 lines 21-APR-1988 05:48
-< There were three brothers... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There were four brothers. "I wanna be an architect! I will build
up my life and redesign it" said the first one.
"I wanna be a soldier to defend what's mine!" said the second
one. "I will be a priest to bless you all!" said the third
brother. But the fourth one just raised his eyes, looked at them,
and went on writing.
Many years after, there were the same four brothers, older, and
more sceptical. The first one said "My wife left me, and since
she went I'm completely down". The second said "Life has left me,
for everything I had is now meaningless to me". The third one
said "People are cruel, they don't deserve a damn second
thought". But the younger of the four brothers was still writing.
Years after, a man was attending the funeral of his last brother
alive. He approached the gate of the cemetery and looking at
three tombs, said "I wanna be a writer, but now I don't have
anything to write about".
================================================================================
Note 112.11 ENDLESS COLUMN 11 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 14 lines 21-APR-1988 08:36
-< Being alone >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Everyone needs to be alone for some time. It's only when I'm
alone that I can think of the rest of the human beings. But I
guess it's better thinking of the people when you are alone than
being among the people thinking only of yourself".
He was sitting in his room, looking at the books on the shelf.
After a while, he looked down the street and saw an old woman
under the snow slowly pushing a small pram full of old
newspapers and empty cans of beer.
"Yes, I need to be alone", he said.
================================================================================
Note 112.12 ENDLESS COLUMN 12 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 18 lines 22-APR-1988 02:54
-< We want our sons writing >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"It's not important what a man says. The important thing is what
he thinks. If he is offering a new value system, or another new
God, or another philosophy, or a new point of view, that's not
still important.
In fact, what nowdays we need the most is people translating
the feelings of those around them. A writer must read the hearts
of his peers, the look of the people he meets everyday. That way,
we will be facing a real writer, he who lives among us and knows
for sure about our dreams and desires, problems and wishes.
No, we don't need anyone going to the desert for forty days and
forty nights. Maybe he comes back just to find everything has changed
dramatically... no more Zarathustras, no more Moses. We want our
sons writing and translaing our common feelings".
================================================================================
Note 112.13 ENDLESS COLUMN 13 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 13 lines 22-APR-1988 02:56
-< That sort of eternity >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Oh yes, I know. I know we all need to be alone some day to
believe in the illusion we are more than a cool number, more than
just another one born among the millions of people who are born
every minute in every place.
Yes, it is absolutely necessary to be alone to think the world
from that sort of eternity called 'solitude'!"
And he cried silently, feeling each of his tears as if they were
his most valuable treasure.
================================================================================
Note 112.14 ENDLESS COLUMN 14 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 43 lines 22-APR-1988 02:57
-< DECdreamers (they can't hear you) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They talk about a dreamer.
"I'm fed up of this city! I'm fed up of the coffe breaks, of your
meetings, of your payrolls, of talking about meaningless things,
of sharing believings that fall far away from my heart, of eating
the same food, with the same people, listening at the same jokes,
taking Exit 15 all the mornings, hearing the same comments on
people in which I'm not interested at all... yes, I'm fed up of
this show, fed up of doing the same things every day, of being
under pressure because of mad deadlines about crazy schedules...
I'm fed up, got it? Just fed up!!"
"Oh, c'mon! it's not that bad. You need resting, that's all" said
a close friend. "Listen" (he goes on) "I'm gonna tell you a
story about a dreamer I met a couple of years ago. He was a FS
engineer, you know, getting his hands dirty repairing this
junk and all that. One day, he came to me and told me 'I've got
a wayout, man, yesterday I had the best idea of my whole life'.
He was excited, no doubt. And then he told me he established
a start-up company in Eneth, in the East coast, a place
nobody knew, with two or three inhabitants, by the sea, sort of
a paradise. Operating as a customer, he ordered one of our
computers, you see, one of those he knew perfectly... That
imposed a great problem for the company. You know, no FS engineer
could serve that bloody town, the nearest engineer was three
houndred miles away. But the company, obviously, could not reject
such a sale. It wasn't an expensive stuff, but that crazy
company was now a customer and the company was committed to
service the fucking junk. Needless to say nobody wanted to
be transferred to that dead town, nobody... except this guy I'm
telling you. He volunteered. They accepted. And now, he is living
in front of the sea, alone, quiteness around, absolutely free,
no stress, no crowdy streets, no dirty skies but the fresh air
in his face... he did it, you see, he did it..."
The dreamer thought about it for a couple of minutes. Then, he
asked "Where's Eneth?". And his close friend smiled and answered
"No. Don't try it. Eneth is now a one-million inhabitants town
full of dreamers... sorry there, but you are late".
================================================================================
Note 112.15 ENDLESS COLUMN 15 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 42 lines 22-APR-1988 02:59
-< Doing it on stones >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I would write about anything in this world, about the empty
bottles in the mud, about the dead cats on the roads, about a
lipstick dropped by an old streetwalker at dawn, about the
trembling hand a beggar extends to us, or about the waterdrops on
my dirty window a Friday evening...
I even would love writing about the first time I met a girl and
found a woman, and about the rusted stars over my head...
But I know I should write on stones if I don't want my writing to
vanish as time passes. Old scrolls written in strange languages
have been found, partially readable, but mostly lost in past
ages.
I even remember my first love, when I was fourteen. I remember I
promised her everything I dreamt of, and so she did. We grown up
together, our love growing with us. And when she was twenty, she
went away, but kept writing me, and so did I.
Distance killed love, and we never knew of each other, nor did we
write a single letter by Christmas. And years after, I remember I
had to go to the place she was before, and walked as far as the
street she used to live... but the windows were closed, although
I got to see an old face looking at me from behind a curtain. And
my heart knew if was my old beloved dream of years ago, but my
brain prevented me of knocking the door.
And I went back home, with half a houndred more years at my back.
I was internally impelled to read the first letter she wrote me,
and looked for it in an old drawer... as I found it, my heart
started beating uncontrolled and excited... and when I got the
letter out of the envelope and my eyes started reading...
... I brutally realized the writing was missing, it vanished with
time, as it happens with old scrolls...
I would write about anything in this world, but I must do it on
stones.
================================================================================
Note 112.16 ENDLESS COLUMN 16 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 9 lines 22-APR-1988 03:00
-< How cruel being a writer! >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No, we can't build up reality now, because we would be forced
to do it thoroughly.
And the dreamers haven't got the time, the priests have all
become non-believers... and the writers...how cruel insulting
a writer, disregarding a writer, BEING A WRITER!!!
================================================================================
Note 112.17 ENDLESS COLUMN 17 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 7 lines 22-APR-1988 03:01
-< Fury as a sign >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm not an Idealist. I'm only angry with this world, with the
whole Universe. That's my fury.
Oh, yes, fury is the distinguishing sign of Idealism.
================================================================================
Note 112.18 ENDLESS COLUMN 18 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 7 lines 22-APR-1988 03:02
-< Each step you make >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I do not believe in Truth. A writer must not believe in truths,
or in lies, neither have an ideal nor an ethics...
Truth forces thought to stop at each step it takes.
================================================================================
Note 112.19 ENDLESS COLUMN 19 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 5 lines 22-APR-1988 03:03
-< Particular analyses >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As I could make analyses like that ad infinitum, your particular
analysis is invalid
================================================================================
Note 112.20 ENDLESS COLUMN 20 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 10 lines 22-APR-1988 03:04
-< Critizising privileges >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Critizising priviliges is another privilege"
"If you can't go thru it that's because it is unvulnerable"
Those were the nucleus of his thought, of his personal driving force
nurturing his desire to become a writer. The first rule made him
strong enough to resist the contempt of the whole mankind.
The second one turned him automatically into an ally of life.
================================================================================
Note 112.21 ENDLESS COLUMN 21 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 5 lines 22-APR-1988 03:06
-< You can read a book >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You can read a book, in which case the book gets inside you, or
you can study it, in which case you get inside the book.
================================================================================
Note 112.22 ENDLESS COLUMN 22 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 4 lines 22-APR-1988 03:07
-< Metathesis >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Books are affected by a cancer called metathesis... and I like it!
================================================================================
Note 112.23 ENDLESS COLUMN 23 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 4 lines 22-APR-1988 03:08
-< Prima Vallerina >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... although everyone hates reading a book you can write as you read...
================================================================================
Note 112.24 ENDLESS COLUMN 24 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 13 lines 22-APR-1988 03:09
-< Writechoes for Music >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I would like using a piano to write a book about a lake and a
mountain... but I used a typewriting machine to compose a melody
for my poor soul...
And I would like to express with music what with words I fail to
express... and to read a book listening at it carefully...
Yes! I would like dying quietly one winter evening while my piano
reads what I wrote and my writings sound like music to my ears.
================================================================================
Note 112.25 ENDLESS COLUMN 25 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 11 lines 22-APR-1988 03:11
-< Song of the tenderness >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Believe me now that I'm about to close my eyes for ever and my
tears get frozen. Just listen with your heart to the broken voice
of my soul... give me a second of your dreams, I need telling you
those things I never dared saying.
Believe me now that I'm looking with hate to that sparrow in my
window, for he has a tomorrow while I'm lying here in bed getting
colder... believe me: I never wanted to live!
================================================================================
Note 112.26 ENDLESS COLUMN 26 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 8 lines 22-APR-1988 03:13
-< Sorry for being human >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Oh yes, sorry for being able to read old books written with
the heart, for being able to go beyond the pentagram when
listening music, for being able to appreciate life as the highest
value. Yes, sorry for this... I know God takes away from the
battlefield his best warriors.
================================================================================
Note 112.27 ENDLESS COLUMN 27 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 8 lines 22-APR-1988 03:14
-< Hand on sword >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you say a word, you can always argue misunderstanding in what
you meant.
But if you write it on a sheet of paper, my friend, beware if you
sleep: don't forget to put your hand on your sword!
================================================================================
Note 112.28 ENDLESS COLUMN 28 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 11 lines 22-APR-1988 03:15
-< Your eyes >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If I want to write about her eyes, I start thinking of the way
she lits a cigarrette, the way she picks the phone, the way she
move her lips when showing disappointment, the way she ends a
kiss opening those eyes.
But if I write about what happens when I want to write about her
eyes... I always end up closing mine, leaning my head back on the
chair and thinking of her eyes...
================================================================================
Note 112.29 ENDLESS COLUMN 29 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 10 lines 25-APR-1988 11:55
-< Take it to the limit >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Take it to the limit. Writing with a pen in my right hand, and a
gun in my left one.
Cutting my arms with a knife, and using the blood on the paper to
write my name.
Putting my hands into a trash can, rubbing my eyes, imaging an intensive
care unit at a dirty hospital... and writing about life.
Take it to the limit, one more time.
================================================================================
Note 112.30 ENDLESS COLUMN 30 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 8 lines 27-APR-1988 10:00
-< My friends >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
S�ren Kierkegaard, Friedrich Nietzsche, Franz Kafka, and me.
**********************************************************************
Franz Listz, J.W. Goethe, Heinrik Heine, and you.
================================================================================
Note 112.31 ENDLESS COLUMN 31 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 24 lines 3-MAY-1988 08:29
-< Inside the book >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Most of the time, when I read a book, I open my heart to the beauty of
words, looking for the best, but expecting the worst.
Most of my dreams are very cold, few of my kisses go in the night,
wishing to talk, but loving to hear.
Nice to escape, nice to go; I'm like a refugee inside the book.
Hidden from the outside: how nice being alone reading!
Lonely winters I have spent, looking thru the mirrors of my veins,
waiting for the sun to freeze, longing for the summer dreams. And
I wander thru the pages, keeping like a treasure all of the truths,
reaching to an end when everything is gone.
How skillful I get getting rid of the weary guests! If they talk
to me, I make as if I am not listening; if they come close to me,
I close the book all of a sudden... being alone reading my books,
that's everything I need... and my pipe full of tobacco, too.
Yes: how much I hate reading about things I know for sure I will
never do...
================================================================================
Note 112.32 ENDLESS COLUMN 32 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 17 lines 3-MAY-1988 08:30
-< I'm not an artist, anyway >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yes, it's true writing and art both oppose to reality.
Sort of fantasy, you may say. You are an empirical mind.
You say to paint a picture is to represent the reality. You state
the best music is the one that can be completely confused with
the sounds of Nature. I love you, my dear empirical ego...
But put your dirty nose out of Art!!
For only those who know reality in depth can invoke fantasy
to escape away. That's the way to Art: know your reality in
detail, and then tell me about it.
That's also explains why I love my being depressed: it's the
source of my art.
================================================================================
Note 112.33 ENDLESS COLUMN 33 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 11 lines 3-MAY-1988 08:32
-< Possible worlds >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yes, those priests talking about a world beyond this one. And
those psychiatrists talking about a world beneath this one.
And those politicians talking about this world, the *real* world
as they enjoy calling it.
Yes, while the introverted artist writes about the moon, the
extroverted technician has already put a foot on it.
That also means that when I talk about my dreams, someone else is
ready to steal them.
================================================================================
Note 112.34 ENDLESS COLUMN 34 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 9 lines 3-MAY-1988 08:33
-< Enemies inside my head >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You know, by the look in my eyes, that I'm fighting against
an imaginary enemy.
You know, by the blood in my hands, that the enemy was not so
imaginary.
But above all, we both know that I'm the victim, and you, my
enemy.
================================================================================
Note 112.35 ENDLESS COLUMN 35 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 17 lines 3-MAY-1988 08:34
-< Reversed values >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I hate those laughts in the distance. It makes me think
someone is celebrating something and I haven't been invited.
No mess: I know it is not someone who wishes to share his
hapiness with the rest of the world... but a poor guy who
is happy for the first time in his life and wishes everyone
to realize it...
Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you that happiness is so rare these days
that it is understandable you show it to the others with
pride... and where you say "This is my happiness!!!" everybody
hears "I AM happy, not YOU!".
Once again, that is the reason why you must take care if you are
happy, put a plastic face, rub out your frank smile, and make as
if everything is as always was.
================================================================================
Note 112.36 ENDLESS COLUMN 36 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 10 lines 3-MAY-1988 08:36
-< They don't let me loving the rain >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My hair falls, my nails are corrupted, I cannot breath, I feel
very weak... nobody told me that standing under the rain for
hours was dangerous, as everybody understood I liked that way.
But now, a doctor tells me that rain was contamined with
a strange stuff coming from Chernobyl...
I remember the rain and my happiness, my hair falls, my nails
corrupted... I cannot breath... nobody told me, nor did I.
================================================================================
Note 112.37 ENDLESS COLUMN 37 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 15 lines 3-MAY-1988 08:37
-< Treat me like a criminal! >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My grandma sleeps... and I mustn't disturb her. She is very
tired indeed, and disturbing her would be a crime.
So I chase around, silently, close the door behind me, and
start leaving when the voice of my grandma reaches my ears
"I had spent the whole night waiting for you, my son, but
you didn't come, I'm older enough not to stand waiting
for you... but I did... 25 years waiting you... but you
never came... in that way I fell slept, and you go..."
I turned back suddenly. My grandma sleeps... and the only
criminal in the world was me... looking at her.
================================================================================
Note 112.38 ENDLESS COLUMN 38 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 19 lines 3-MAY-1988 08:40
-< Were he like me... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My little brother asked me for photograph camera. Obviously,
he is crazy. He is only four, and I'm not going into that...
spending money in an expensive camera only to satisfy the
wishes of a kid...
When we were crossing the square, my little brother asked me again
and I answered rudely. "Get that stupid idea out of your mind!".
He got silent. Then we saw one of those old prambs full of little
toys for the kids, and icecreams, and plastic guns, and cookies.
My little brother escaped from my hands, ran away towards the pramb
and... pointing out to a plastic camera told me "This is the
camera I wished...". The man attending the thing tells me with coolness
in his voice "Is only 2 cents".
Were my brother like the adults, he would had listen to me, crying.
================================================================================
Note 112.39 ENDLESS COLUMN 39 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 5 lines 3-MAY-1988 08:42
-< Not angry, just tired >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm not angry. I'm too tired for being anything. Even for being
tired... my soul weights thousand tons and my eyes are heavy.
No, I'm not angry. Otherwise I would be tired... again.
================================================================================
Note 112.40 ENDLESS COLUMN 40 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 35 lines 3-MAY-1988 08:45
-< That subtle apocalypse slowly coming... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ethnic rules are quite severe these days. Being a jaek is a
crime. I never knew I was a jaek until I received that letter
from the Ministry of Social Studies.
They don't allow me to run a business. Neither to marry any woman
I wish to nor to use my own language. I can't talk to anyone but
a jaek. My home has been destroyed by the Government as they told
me there's a new regulation forcing me to live away of the city.
They don't let my kids go to the public school. When I asked if
they could go to one of those 'jaek' schools, they answered
minorities are not allowed to attend the school.
I've been forced to dress special clothes and to declare myself
as 'no-land citizen'. In fact, they say I'm a guest in this
country. Oh, yes, they have provided me with a resident permit.
Additionally, they have forbidden my religion and rewritten the
history of my people: no mention at all. We never existed.
Medical products and health care expenses are increased for those
being jaeks. Taxes have been doubled, too.
Yes, ethnic regulations are cruel these days. I can't write in
the newspapers. They have issued a new currency for minorities.
Exchange rate to the official currency makes our money useless.
I don't know how everything started. Looking to a person, nobody
can state for sure who is a jaek or who is not. Except the Racial
Police experts. My neighbors don't speak to me. They say I must
have done something wrong, otherwise the Government would never
had treated me like that.
Yes, public opinion, I guess, has become the truth.
Mass-media can't be wrong. But my son ignores it...
================================================================================
Note 112.41 ENDLESS COLUMN 41 of 41
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 16 lines 3-MAY-1988 10:32
-< ENDLESS COLUMN >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That friend of mine is completely down... as he told me months
ago his kid was playing in the school... and got a syringe in his
foot... one of those wasted syringes drug addicts drop... and the
doctor just rang him yesterday to inform him... that the kid died
with a bitter smile in his innocent face...
I couldn't say a word... but I would like to write a song, that
emerging from the floor... ascends to the heaven... like an
endless column... far away from this hell.
That's everything I want:
AN ENDLESS COLUMN GETTING ME UP TO THE STARS!!
Note 111.4 La Tertulia Grande 4 of 13
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 46 lines 14-APR-1988 03:45
-< How many seats available? >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ca�n's voice sounded surprised "A tertulia? Really?"
"Yes" I said "In Tem's Cabin. I would like you to come. No
dissertations, I promise".
Then he asked me again "Can I phone some of my friends? I would
like them coming, too"
"Oh Yes! Fine! Who are them?" I asked excited.
"Franz Kafka, Kleist, Jan Neruda, Rimbaud, Jeff Nutall, and Arik
Rudich".
I smiled. "Ca�n, would you mind speaking in English? Your
Biblical Hebrew confuses me..."
"Okay. Can I invite musicians, too?"
"Yes, you can, although I guess some of them have been already
invited..."
"Fripp and the guys?"
"Exactly"
"Eno and John Hassell?"
"Well..."
"L. Anderson and Vangelis?"
"Not exactly..."
"Tangerine Dream, Can, P. Floyd, Klaus Schultze, H�enig, Ashra,
D.A.F., Britten, Cage, Stockhausen, Philip Glass, and Red Leaves
and the Golden Kick?"
"No, they haven't been invited yet"
"Right", he said, "Just one more question"
"I listen at you"
"Did you phone H. Heine?"
"Yes, I did"
"And?"
"He told me... that he was having dinner with Ianis"
"Ianis?"
"Yes, the Roman soldier who gave Jesus vinegar when they were
crucifixing him..."
"Ah, yes. O.K. See you there! Shalom!"
"Adi�s"
"Rub�n!"
"Yes, Ca�n?"
"Say... why didn't you invite Nietzsche?"
"Oh! well... I don't know if Alexander Magnus could do without him..."
And the 'click' of the phone was music to my ears.
Note 111.7 La Tertulia Grande 7 of 13
MDRLEG::RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 15 lines 15-APR-1988 08:18
-< Wishes >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Only those who have experienced how difficult is to be understood and
find people to talk to freely about anything we love, only those, know
how much this tertulia means for me" said Franz.
"Yes, wandering thru the desert of incommunication always give us
a hostile look at first glance, and everybody think we are not capable
of giving love or listening to their views " answered Cain.
"I would love meeting you all again, and I'm sure next year we will
be more people sharing ideas and experiences" said Heine.
"Yes, I wish so, really, I wish so..." I said, looking at the room
all around...
3 Gravity Press, Volume II, Age of Contempt by Ruben
================================================================================
Note 114.0 Gravity Press, Volume II, Age of Contempt by Ruben No replies
BTO::JPETERS "John Peters, DTN 266-4391" 1042 lines 28-APR-1988 08:06
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
With apologies to Mr. Ruben, here's note 107 in a form such that it
prints out nicely on 20 pages. I have taken the liberty of correcting
obvious misspellings, but have left spellings and usages that I
guessed the author had used intentionally. I have made no attempt
to change or correct punctuation, and have tried to retain the visual
structure of the page, whatever that means.
In keeping with some of the unique features of notes file as mss.,
I retained the date and time of the first entry, and placed at the
bottom the date and time of the last entry.
Ed Bernstein- Is this the realization of the Gravity Press?
I'd regard the general extract by Doucette as
the first volume...
John
Age Of Contempt
---------------
by
RUBEN "No dead kids in this cemetery" 23-MAR-1988 03:57
from
-< Tem Noon's Cabin somewhere in a Forest >- Note 107.0
Age Of Contempt
----------------------------------------------------------------
"... and then you can come here to get a look at the factory" he
said excited.
"Sorry, dad, I'm not interested in dirty gray factories. Will
call you on Saturday. Bye". And the telephone came silent
again.
"Dirty factory..." he thought, "twenty two years working here,
getting the money back home to pay his education and now he
states this is a dirty factory...".
Yes, there were some moments in which he was completely sure he
was reaching the limit, the magical age of 55, five years before
the forced retirement, too old to understand his son, too young
to think of death and all. But he was hell-bent decided to
approach his son before becoming himself an obstacle.
"Dirty factory" he thought again "just because the view from my
desk is two black chimneys, a freight platform, and the
unloading terminals... I must be getting older, I guess, my own
son doesn't have time to share with me..." A siren sounded in
the distance.
"Dirty factory" he repeated slowly.
-< Incommunication >- Age Of Contempt, page two
----------------------------------------------------------------
He was sitting next to his son. "So, the idea is very good, dad,
I'm working in this program very hard, the idea is simple:
devising the proper algorithms to translate from English into
Spanish. Obviously, I need the syntactic parser coupled with the
morphology set of rules... I'm coding now in Lisp, just to make
the whole thing portable... do you follow me?"
No. He couldn't. The only thing he was thinking of was when he
was younger; he was repairing radios by that time. Half a dollar
the hour, getting money to pay his studies and all. But now, he
was facing his son playing with one of those new computers
talking about translation, a dollar the word, coding, parsers...
"Yes, of course, I *do* understand, but-"
"Then you get the input text file formatted and ready to feed
the processor. After the first pass, you get a raw output
needing only a slight postediting. It's wonderful! I will make
enough money to buy a nice house north of the city!"
He was definitely old. He couldn't talk to his son about the
factory. And he guessed he was looking stupid looking at the
screen. "How's Ethel? Are you planning to marry her and all?"
"Yes. Next summer. If I get the money, I mean, if I manage to
code the whole thing in Lisp and fix the lookahead capability
of the parser". Fantastic! His son was thinking of getting
married next summer if he managed to fix 'the whole thing'...
After a while, all possible conversations were locked. He took
his jacket and went back home. "See you next Saturday?" he
asked, "No, I'm going out of the city with Ethel".
Repairing radios didn't work to buy the house, but times have
changed now. A computer was not only useful to buy a house: it
was even critical to marry someone.
-< House of cards >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
"My house is now rubbish. It took me too much effort to get the
money for it. By that time, living south of the city was a
clear advantage: the factories stand a couple of kilometers far
away. But now, my son thinks of moving to the north, where they
have built those office areas full of computers and residential
malls. My God! He is only 22 and states he hasn't the time to
share with me! Where do I fit in all this?"
He was ruminating very late in the night. He couldn't sleep.
Lighted a cigarette.
"Well, I suppose life is like this, you build up a house of
cards with care and speed, and when you are about to finish it,
you get suddenly old, your hands trembling, and you finally
face a pile of cards on the table..."
Getting older is hard to digest, specially when you realize the
smile of the younger hurts you a lot...
-< Unemployment vs. Retirement >- Age Of Contempt, page three
----------------------------------------------------------------
Unemployment versus retirement. In the first case, you taste the
bitter refusal to become something, in the second one, you taste
the bitter reality that you have finally become nothing.
-< No more phone calls >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
Okay, I got it. You take care of your child, you teach him all
the things you love and value. When he is 16 he starts
criticizing everything, he says that you are a conservative, he
hates your music, he comes back home late at night, he refuses
to go with you for a walk.
At 22 he starts working at one of those wonderful hi-tech
companies, he knows nothing about factories, he talks and talks
about money, compact discs, cars, and all that stuff.
You explain to him how hard it was when you were 22 and he
doesn't listen to you.
At 24, you have definitely lost him. Not a single call. No
congratulations for your birthday. No questions about how well
or bad you are doing.
And when you explain that a young University student menaces
your job he just answer "Modern times, dad, take it easy".
Yes, I must be getting old. No doubt.
-< You still here? >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
He doubles my salary. I'm proud of it. I have fixed for him some
failures in his new apartment electric installation. I have
spent the whole day shopping for him. I have repaired the taps
and made some arrangements in the bank.
And when he comes back, he looks at me and asks "You still
here?".
You still here. It sounds like a command to fly away as far as
possible. He has obviously forgotten the basics... or is it also
my fault?
-< TV as a treasure >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
He measures his freedom at home by the ability to defend that he
can do everything he wishes.
What's more, he seems to be proud when he asks me "Do you wish
to watch channel 2?". The TV set, I suppose, must be his most
valued treasure.
-< Japanese recorders >- Age Of Contempt, page four
----------------------------------------------------------------
I'm not worried of those adolescents who sit on the walkside
with a bottle of gin and cans of beer. I can't hear their
complaints because of the noisy Japanese recorder they are
listening to.
What it worries me is that their sons will be managing my
retirement pension... Obviously, I will be condemned for the
unemployment, the NATO, and the Wall Street collapse. I know I
will be one of those social burdens again.
Working in a factory must be a crime. But being a pensionist,
that's must be *the* crime!
-< Specific gravity of smile >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
Specific gravity of a smile. Is about how easy you can smile
when you are a child, how little you smile as you grow older,
and how difficult you find to smile sincerely when you are
definitely grown.
It seems that your lips are not influenced by gravity, but then
you are trapped, years later, in the social gravity force field
and you cannot smile again... except for that stupid smile
everybody gets when we get bored of everything.
-< Squash >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
Squash. He says it's good to counter stress. Has anyone invented
something against squash?
-< Inconsistencies >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
He states not being able to speak English is a hindrance these
days. But then, he is working in a translating machine.
He states peace is a must these days, but then he is cooperating
with a hi-tech Defense company.
Finally, he says computers have reduced total turnaround time
freeing the humans to do more specific tasks, but then he says
he hasn't got the time to see me.
Inconsistency, I guess it's a key value these days.
-< Number 4 >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
He told me having 4 children is a serious error. He forgets he
was number 4.
-< Nobody and Everyone >- Age Of Contempt, page five
----------------------------------------------------------------
He takes it on me every time he fails ("Just because you gave me
a poor education and you omitted talking about this or doing
that...").
He assumes he owes me nothing for everything he knows he learned
it by himself ("... and I have learned this and that and you
never told me this and that...").
I suppose I'm guilty for not teaching him that nobody invents
nothing and, on the other hand, everyone can teach us something
new.
[Again, I know I'm *nobody* and I'm not *everyone*...]
-< Dark corner >- Age Of Contempt, page six
----------------------------------------------------------------
Dear son,
Last week the management of my company announced a new timetable
for the employees.
According to the new timetable, I'm to start working at 8
o'clock in the morning, leaving at 15:00'...imagine! leaving at
15:00'!
They have destroyed my escapeway, Mark. You know I stayed in the
office until quite late in the evening, but you never asked me
why. You kept telling me that being overloaded and working twelve
hours a day was hard. You didn't know I liked that way, for
otherwise I was to go home... something wrong at home? Yes,
Mark, many things are wrong there. I do not have friends: I lost
them all when I first met your mother. Marriage, you know, tends
to be a closed loopback, a room with no doors.
I love your being optimistic about marriage, your thinking of it
as 'you two against the world' and all that you told me about
one of those rare days in which you keep your mouth closed and
your heart open. I'm not the one to spoil your idea about
marriage.
But the thing is that, after 28 years of being married, after
going four times to the nursery, after exhausting each and all
of my plans, home became sort of a jail. I know, I know: I WAS
to fight against it and turn the situation into something
different.
I'm not pessimistic, Mark. After many years working in this
factory and receiving a small table in a dark corner in the
office, after watching my four kids growing, after paying the
last debt for the house, how could I be pessimistic? I take it
the way it comes. That's all.
The only sad thing, the only thought it deeply hurts me, Mark,
is that I managed to become a sort of gray soul, far away from
those realities, sitting in that dark corner in the office. But
now, you know, they have changed the timetable and, you see,
they have also given me a 28th anniversary gift: a new desk
lamp... that has killed my beloved darkness and has taken to the
surface everything I hate: my isolation, my solitude.
Mark, I'm not a pessimistic, but a frustration everyone can now
look at.
Your father.
-< Cannot be real >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
I suppose sitting there, watching the TV, and realizing
everything is under control is not that bad.
But those pictures of my kids smiling cannot be real.
-< Spinning >- Age Of Contempt, page seven
----------------------------------------------------------------
I'm under a crisis. Martha has told me everyone in his 55 faces
a crisis. Wonderful. I have nothing to share with this world...
2,000 years spinning means it has faced at least thirty crises
and there he is! Spinning, spinning, spinning!!
-< Dangerous >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
They say my car is old, a danger for the others drivers in the
road. Now I understand why the treat me as if I were dangerous.
It's funny: those with ideals are dangerous fighters. Those with
no ideals at all are even worse: they are simply dangerous.
-< Vomiting compassion >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
If I look to a woman and feel love, they call it "a beautiful
act". If my son looks at a woman and feels love, they call it "a
natural feeling". They see poetry in my loving and biology in
the love of my son.
Curious adjectives: a vomiting compassion!
-< Same shadows >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
Tonight is the night in which I have at last become free.
I have reached as far as where my son lives. I have stood in
front of the window and looked inside: he was watching the TV
and Ethel was reading a magazine!
-< Ceiling of the jail >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
Okay, I'm a peasant, an industrial illiterate who knows nothing
about computers, aerospace, modern music, and sex.
Ahaa! But my son knows all about everything and still is a child
playing with his future: he doesn't know the difference between
freedom and crushing against the ceiling of this jail!
-< Pricking sensation >- Age Of Contempt, page eight
----------------------------------------------------------------
Calling: beeep! beeeeeep!
"Hallo?"
"Hello, it's me!"
"Who? Whom am I speaking to?"
"Mum, it's me, can you hear me?"
"Hey! How are you? Long time, no news"
Calling mum makes me feel younger. I love it.
"I'm fine, what about you?" "I'm fine, too. What about little
Mark?"
Little Mark! Little Mark! My God! Mum has but killed me!
"Hallo? Are you still there?"
I hang the phone with a pricking sensation that the phone has
just hung me dead.
-< Will I know how to stop it >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
I need to cry, but I don't know how to do it. After all these
years my brain has turned his back on me. Even Martha is away:
think I must think of her if I want to love her again...
I must look to the people around me if I wish to reconstruct my
self. Yes, looking at the others will work. I need to command my
feelings, I need a system of new values, a whole new system to
understand my life... or maybe I just need commands to conceal
my lack of a system?
Too many years with the same lack of a system, no values, I
thought the equation was enough to cope with this life, but now
I'm alone... everybody else is sleeping in my ship: need to stay
awake commanding my ship... I need to cry, but if I succeed,
will I know how to stop it?
-< Convictions >- Age Of Contempt, page nine
----------------------------------------------------------------
"Okay" he said, "I know my enemies. No more daily routines. No
more factories. I will start from the scratch, I will focus on
Martha:she is everything I've got. I will make plans. Yes, I
will show myself I'm not worn-out. Not worn-out"
He went to the room where Martha was sitting. "Martha! What
about going out tonight?".
Martha answered mechanically "I feeling a little down tonight.
I've got a headache. Think I'm gonna sleep".
He was about to use violence against her, violence to take her
by her shoulders and forcing her to go out. But, after a few
seconds, he sat besides her and thought "Before any attempt to
set me free, I must get strong convictions, for I know what I do
must be wrong..."
-< Wintry sky >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
A wintry sky over a dark ocean. And in the middle of it, the
shreds of Neptune, my poor shreds.
-< I wanted to be myself >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
I wanted to be myself. I wanted to feel life. I wanted it to
design my future. I just wanted to feel I was born. That's all,
I dreamt of me.
-< No more purple skies >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
I remember I always wanted to lye naked on a field, under a
purple sky, under a wild storm. But in the meantime, I met a
woman, I created a family, had children, found a work, and when
I finally got the time, I went to that field.
The sun was shinning. No more purple skies, but a dirty factory.
-< Otherwise, you are a murderer >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
Let me inside you. Into your world. Let me just share all the
things you have done.
Let me inside you, into your fears, be navigating over your
tears, giving you semen, taking your blood.
Let me inside you, to the warm of your breasts.
[Kill me, Martha, otherwise you are a murderer]
-< ...but I do >- Age Of Contempt, page ten
----------------------------------------------------------------
He leant his head on her shoulder. But she didn't noticed it.
After a while, she set aside his head saying "I must be going to
the kitchen". "Don't go" he said. "Come on, I'm not really
going" she added. "No, you are not going... but I do" he
thought.
-< Deadline >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
"If I look around me, I'm alive. If I talk to my son, I'm dead
again" he thought.
His son was playing at the terminal. "Hi!" he said, "Hi, dad".
"How's everything? Much work?"
"Yes. I must finish this for tomorrow morning, otherwise Central
Engineering is gonna face a slippage in the schedule".
"What could happen if there's a slippage in the schedule?" he
asked, "Oh, well, I suppose I could loose my job..." he
answered with no conviction at all.
"Well, in that case I must tell you something: I have met all my
deadlines all my life and, at the end, I'm loosing my job..."
"C'mon! Here you go again! My depressive dad praying to the gods
for an early apocalypse!"
He looked at the screen and then said "Mark, the sad thing is
that they up there have also deadlines to meet and I can assure
you yours will be met just in time".
His son wasn't listening.
-< Travel Agency >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
Yes, sometimes you face an LSD-drunk youngster selling you a
liquid sun and a tangram sunset in Playa Linda.
They call it 'travel agency'. You pay in advance, they give you
your tickets and there you are!
"Honeymoon, isn't it?" he says with a stupid face making me
think of a serious mistake in the zoologic tree.
"No," I reply, "We want to establish there a health care
hospital for people affected by AIDS..."
Jaaa! He now looks surprised!
-< Freeze! Police! >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
I love walking in the night wandering. Sometimes you find a
group of young people talking in a dark alley. It makes me feel
fine staying hidden in the dark and cry "Freeze! Police!".
They disappear going to hell. Love it.
-< Bursts into pieces >- Age Of Contempt, page eleven
----------------------------------------------------------------
"Mark? A terrible thing has happened!"
"What? What happens?"
"The factory has exploded, everything destroyed!"
"What???? Where are you now?? Are you okay?"
"Yes. I'm in the office now"
"But you said you were-"
"Yes, I know what I said. I wanted to see you worried about me.
That's all"
"Dad, I don't have the time for listening to stupid jokes. I'm
in a deep mud now with a fucking code and-"
"Ah! The semantic parser! I know, how's he doing? Maybe he is a
little depressed. Take him out for a rest. He need it"
"If you go on gettin' stupid I-"
"Oooh! I'm *so* sorry. Excuse me, we are dynamiting the factory
now. 3, 2, 1...". Beeeeeeeeep. The telephone tone again.
He laughed. "My son is 'in a deep mud' with the parser just now,
when everything bursts into pieces..."
-< Wonderfully alone >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
"How wonderfully alone I feel! I would like to shout to
everything passing in front of my eyes 'Don't dare to stand in
front of me!!'
Yes, I don't want to go back home: I'm not prepared yet to meet
Martha, I must try out a 'hello', a couple of kisses in her
lips, a 'how was your day, darling?'... I need to practice
before sounding like a robot..."
"What's the time, please?" He asked to an old woman sitting on a
bench "Six o'clock"
"Six o'clock!" he thought "Six o'clock! Everybody thinks that
looking to a watch it's enough to know what time is it! My God!
How far they are from *my* world... yes, I feel myself
wonderfully alone"
-< Nihilist >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
Tiredness becomes fear, that's why I'm becoming a criminal
nihilist...
-< ...always misses something... >- Age Of Contempt, page twelve
----------------------------------------------------------------
I don't believe in anything. I don't want nothing, just being
walking. I know Martha doesn't need a hate, doesn't need a goal.
Even in those moments of real ecstasies, she always misses
something...
The only thing she loves is cleaning the circular marks of the
glasses on the table... glasses on the table... she always
misses something.
-< Age of contempt >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
I want to think of myself, reconstruct my past... "I was born
in..." "...my father was a..." "mum had a...", "I liked the..."
Contempt. Just contempt filling it all. Isn't there another way
of reconstructing one's past? Or maybe we are living in the age
of contempt.
-< Future for a while >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
I will stay at home, into my room, with the door closed.
I will paint the screen of my TV. Yellow will be nice.
I will put the telephone inside the washing machine.
Need to be alone, three or four days.
I will take a little of sea water in a can of beer, I will fix a
portion of the galaxy in the wall with pins.
Yes, I will visit my future for a while.
-< Milky Way >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
... and when you open the door you feel very much the same as
when you at last get out of a hospital after a 3-month period:
Welcome to the human race! Oh, yes, the Milky Way's still in its
place, and the sea sounds like the last time, and the sun sets
every day, and the cars get crashed in a dirty road, and the
radio speaks about the same problems, and the TV shows the same
images with different protagonists...
Ah! Welcome to the human race! Every thing is going all right.
Everybody dreams the same dreams and everyone dies of the same
illness.
But, after all, the best feeling after being away from the Earth
is opening your window at night, look at the sky and realize...
that the Milky Way's still in its place!
-< Back to the chain gang >- Age Of Contempt, page thirteen
----------------------------------------------------------------
They say 'Hello, glad you are back!'. But they mean 'Welcome
again, back to the chain gang!'
The only problem with a jail is that they always have the key.
This means that, a given day, they can set you free...
Back to the chain gang!
-< No more mirrors >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
Need to be alone. I don't want to see my face. Every surface
reflecting a piece of my life should be destroyed. I don't want
any mirrors. No mirrors in my room.
I feel like one of those old satellites when they go out of
orbit, though they have a self-destruction mechanism... yes, I
MUST design my own self-destructing mechanism. Need paper, and a
pen. Need more paper for my design. I will write down the
basics. Right now. All night. All day. The eyes of Martha
reflect my own eyes, but I can't break those eyes...
Need to be alone. Need no more mirrors.
-< 45 degrees >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
No past. I will erase my past. My mechanism is working all
right. I will rotate now, 45 degrees, facing the cold outer
spaces, the Earth at my back.
Full of stars, everything is full of stars. But I can't take a
look at them, otherwise I will be late in the office. Late in
the office.
-< World from the other
side of the door >- Age Of Contempt, page fourteen
----------------------------------------------------------------
"Dad, are you there?"
"No, I'm out for a while. Come back later"
"C'mon! Don't be silly! Get out of your room. You are worrying
us all. They miss you in the office. Are you okay?"
No answer from the other side of the door.
"Dad, I want you to visit a person"
"What? A person? Me visiting someone?"
"Yes, he's the best doctor in town"
"The best doctor in town!! Ahaaaa! We live in a 3 million
inhabitants town and my clever boy has managed himself to find
the best doctor in town! Ahaaa!" his laugh sounded irritating.
"Dad, listen to me, please. You need a treatment, I mean, you
are badly depressed. You are hurting us all. Think of mum,
please!"
"Mum? What the hell has mum to do with you?"
"Listen, his phone is 222 3 22, got it?"
"Oh yes, I will remember the train"
"What?"
"The train... chuk, chuk, chuk beeeeeeep chuk, chuk..."
"Okay, dad. Okay. If you wish to ruin your life go ahead. You
bastard!"
And then, he thought for a while in trains and treatment. And he
laughed from the other side of the door "Ahaaa! He has found the
best doctor in town, chuk, chuk, chuk beeeeeeep!"
-< Confucius: Will to Enjoyment >- Age Of Contempt, page fifteen
----------------------------------------------------------------
He didn't went to the doctor. Instead, he decided to dream. And
he dreamt of being with a beautiful girl under a golden sky by a
seascape. And the girl talked to him, but she didn't move her
lips:
"You've been working for years. You have been building your own
future, your home, your wife, your beliefs and dreams. You have
been educate under the will to power, doing everything aimed to
obtain material goods; any and all of your achievements
designed in terms of power; a good job associated with a good
payroll to sustain your family, a good car to reach your
office, a good education for your kids, and a beautiful home to
keep your wife happy. Everything you do, you do it for them.
Every time you move, you move for them. And then the time
passes thru you, you get thru something, your life becomes
meaningful in relation to your own 'all', your 'self'. You
creep... under the will to power. Your world being a game
between dominators and dominated. Your whole logic being a snow
ball in hell. You look back and, automatically, begin to
recount your achievements. Again, in terms of status, money,
and power. Your God being a pharmacologic solution. You never
refuse to take another way. You can't.
And now I offer you another universe: the will to enjoyment.
Too much time being a Nietzschean activist, too much blood down
the road. Personal wars, local conflicts, problems at home, at
work. Every obstacle between you and your achievements becomes a
problem. But the will to enjoyment is different. There is just a
sense floating in the air: nobody's happy, really happy.
For everything you have, you never got it by your hands: they
gave it to you, and you sit on your material universe dominating
everything and everyone. That's your will to power, your own
rules written for you and yours. Your system of values becoming
meaningless after retirement. 'I will become Confucianist' you
say, but it's much going on.
Useless the smile of a child, and the shadows on the wall.
They change good for evil. What's then to be returned for
goodness? That's the teaching of my own religion: the will to
enjoyment. Never giving a step towards power, but towards
enjoyment. For they need you happy, not richer. For all of the
stars in heaven lights for you to delight, not for you to get
them.
But you fail, time and again. Your objectual world looks at you
laughing at you, facing at you. The factory was your world, 8
hours a day. You missed everything: the colors of the music, the
sound of the colors. I can give you but the will to enjoyment.
But do not think you've got the solution: you are only
dreaming... only dreaming under a golden sky..."
He opened his eyes. God! He was crying for the first time in
many years!
[from the Age of Contempt to the Will to Enjoyment]
-< WTE! Trouble in the city >- Age Of Contempt, page sixteen
----------------------------------------------------------------
"WTE, WTE, WTE, WTE, WTE, WTE! WILL TO ENJOYMENT!!!" he cried.
"I will write it in all the walls of this mad city!!" and he
opened the door, got out of the room under the scared look of
his wife; got out the house, into the car.
And he drove thru the highways. "WTE!WTE!WTE!". Everybody was
looking at him, as if he were mad. "WTE!" he was crying. Driving
mad thru the highways "Ahhaa! Trouble in the city! The best
doctor in town is a punk with gallons of beer in his crazy head!
WTE! WTE! WTE! WTE!"
And the car was flying over the roads, gliding over the troubled
city. The sun was sitting besides his. The sea was in his eyes.
And the traffic police tried to stop him. All the city was
behind he, trying to catch him, to capture his freedom. But
everybody knows you cannot steal nothing to those having but a
smile. "WTE!WTE!WTE!" he was far away from the city.
Finally, the car stopped in the middle of a road. It was late in
the night and the moon was up in the sky. He got out of the car.
Stretched his muscles, took a deep breath of fresh air and,
looking at the moon, he thought "Is a great day indeed, for I'm
now feeling the will to enjoyment!".
But he was alone with the moon. Sat close to the car on the
floor. Closed his eyes. And the self-destructing mechanism
started functioning...
-< Translating feelings >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
So my son is building a translating machine. He can translate
words, and maybe meanings. But he can't translate feelings.
He can parse any input sentence, but know nothing on looks.
Strange guy my son is, for he cares only of what can be said
with a dirty mouth instead of trying to translate what blooms
out of a heart!
I'm away from home. In fact, I have no home at all. Will take a
taxi as far as China. Paying a visit to Confucius. But there are
no taxis reaching that far... I will come back to meet the LSD
guy in the travel agency. Yes, a one-way ticket to China.
I'm gonna visit Confucius. My son knows nothing about him.
-< Ticket to Nowhere >- Age Of Contempt, page seventeen
----------------------------------------------------------------
"Give me a ticket to China" he said with anxiety.
"Sorry, Sir, no tickets to China"
"What? No tickets? And you was promising a trip to Playa Linda
only a week ago?"
"Sir, I mean I have no tickets right now. But you can try
Singapore Airlines. They are servicing that route. You just
need to-"
"Shit! You son of a... !"
The clerk got scared.
"Listen, you stupid, You get me the ticket right now, in a
twinkling! C'mon, move!"
And nobody knows how he did it, but he got out of the travel
agency with a ticket... to nowhere.
-< Middle of the road >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
He came back to the road, where the car was stopped. The endless
and empty road in front of him. "No doubt, this road leads to
China. I will go walking as I have time enough" he thought.
And he walked, miles and miles. He never saw a coming car. The
road seemed to be a particular one. "No cars. No people. I'm now
sure this road leads to Confucius. Otherwise, I would had met
someone".
Sleep came free. The moon over the road. A two-lane road. And a
lonely man walking, and walking. Dust in his eyes. An empty and
silent road.
"Humans love harm. They find it a pleasure. A delight. It seems
to me we live in the most aesthetic planet in the whole
Universe..."
He used 'reason' to condemn 'reason'. But he was happy as he
never was before: in the middle of the road.
-< Learning how to look >- Age Of Contempt, page eighteen
----------------------------------------------------------------
"The first rule to grasp the will to enjoyment is to carefully
observe everything you never observed before. I think I must
learn again how to look at things, how to discover the essence
beyond the object, how to dive inside the world a stone keeps
inside. Yes, I must learn how to listen with my eyes and how to
keep looking at everything as if were an alien visiting a
complete new planet..."
Then, he looked at the distant, over the point in the horizon in
which the road and the sky meet, and he saw a black cloud with
the form of a mountain, and the peak of the mountain resembled a
face, and he recognized his old face.
"Yes, I must learn how to look before getting scared of my own
shadow"
-< Tears >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
"What comes after a tear drop? Or perhaps the tears in my cheek
are just a manifestation of what's to come.
The meaning of a tear is just another tear. I know what to do
when I'm down: crying. But I don't know what to do with my
tears.
Tears within a smile. Imagine a world in which the answer to
any question is just "yes". Quietness till someone happens to
make a new question.
The meaning of a tear is just another tear".
-< Universe >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
A pile of leaves, a grain of salt, and an old discolored ribbon.
A complete world governing a portion of space in the middle of a
road. Who said the universe was already discovered?
-< Think properly >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
It is not that your problems do not allow you to think properly;
it is that they are forcing you to discover a new way of
thinking.
I will experience those things I have only dreamt of:
discovering a new way of thinking.
-< Rotating >- Age Of Contempt, page nineteen
----------------------------------------------------------------
"A critical moment in my life: the first time I saw the moon. I
always thought there were several moons. One completely white,
like a circle full of light in the space. Above my head.
Another one resembling a numb, and another one smaller.
My father explained to me that they were one and the same moon
as seen from different angles. And I thought "What a boring
world this is! Instead of having several moons they've only got
a single one".
A depressed man is a happy one when observed from a different
angle. I've got the solution to overcome depression: just
rotate a couple of degrees!"
And he kept moving in circles, rotating around his feet till he
got sick and fell down with sweat in his forefront.
"No doubt that appearing to the world with all of our faces
simultaneously is a confusing experience!"
********************************************************
-< That's all >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
So, I need to reconstruct my past from scratch. I need to break
all the mirrors reflecting my face. I need to achieve the will
to enjoyment. I need to rotate a couple of degrees to overcome
problems, and I must find a new way of thinking.
That's all. I need to become Confucianist.
-< Physical experience >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
I wish to find that far land in which death is not a mere
physical experience.
********************************************************
...that land in which love is more than a simple passing
indisposition...
-< Slight flaw just meaningless >-
----------------------------------------------------------------
... the land in which you do not need to go to the WC and close
the door behind you to feel safe and free for a moment...
********************************************************
... that land where a slight flaw on the face of beauty is
meaningless and people do not waste the time polishing coal
to sell it as gold...
-< Finalights >- Age Of Contempt, page twenty
----------------------------------------------------------------
And then he distinguished a coming car in the distance. But he
kept quite, and silent. And the car stopped by his side, and a
man that it looked familiar to him got out of the car.
It was his son, and his wife Martha, and Ethel... and two men
that undoubtedly were dressed like doctors, that undoubtedly,
were behaving like doctors.
And he remembered they were talking to him, kindly, like the
people use to talk to insanes and those that are termed 'mad'.
They got him into the car, and he was happy because, at least,
he could look out thru the window. They were still talking a
strange language. "These people talk and talk forever, I'm
loving the way they move their lips, and sure there's a mystery
behind those moving lips... I must stare at them, that way they
will never get inside me".
And the car got lost in the distance, leaving the road behind.
But a thought was floating in the air:
"IT IS TRUE NOW THAT WE ARE LIVING IN THE AGE OF CONTEMPT"
[It doesn't matter what happened after, but the gray factory did
not look as before, the entire Universe had changed...
although the Milky Way was still in its place...]
-finis- 8-APR-1988 02:56
4 Ruth keeps smiling...
================================================================================
Note 116.0 Ruth keeps smiling... 31 replies
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 21 lines 5-MAY-1988 05:41
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
RUTH KEEPS SMILING
------------------
Ruth remembers her first menstruation. She was fourteen that
morning. A hard experience, she says, for she had never before
seen the blood: contempt in her black eyes, while something
inside her tells her a new door has been opened.
She remembers also when she lost virginity:
Vikings trying to enter into the castle by violently taking down
the main door. A little blood again.
Ruth thinks for a while of the first time she became mother: the
whole world exploding inside the castle. Blood seems to be her
loyal companion.
But if you happened to be close to her, you would have noticed
that, even in those moments... Ruth keeps smiling.
================================================================================
Note 116.1 Ruth keeps smiling... 1 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 17 lines 5-MAY-1988 05:43
-< With the corner of her eye >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She wasn't alone. Her mother could have been a good coach. But a
stupid gap of ages invalidated any kind of communication.
Her brother had it easier: any inconvenient word could have been
considered the fair complaint of a little warrior.
Ruth was thinking what could happen... if just for a moment...
she happened to ask... how was that dad left home... a wintry
evening.
As she knew for sure her mother estimates herself thru his husband,
she didn't dare asking. But she started to think how was that she
had to estimate herself thru a man... looking at his brother with the
corner of her eye.
================================================================================
Note 116.2 Ruth keeps smiling... 2 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 24 lines 5-MAY-1988 05:45
-< The immediatly after >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The minute after, they both were lying in bed. He was smoking his
cigarrette, and Ruth was looking at him, as she always did.
Then he said slowly looking at the ceiling "Tomorrow I must
finish my report".
And Ruth thought how different she was from all of the guys she
had met before... for when she was thinking of the day after
tomorrow, they always talked about tomorrow.
"They are thinking of the immediatly after" she thought, "while
I'm just trying to figure out how my life with them would be in
the future".
And the clear image of her leaving father invaded her. Closing
her eyes and turning her head back so that he couldn't see her,
she found herself crying... again.
Be careful, Ruth, of those feelings in those moments, for they
prejudge the rest of our life.
================================================================================
Note 116.3 Ruth keeps smiling... 3 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 15 lines 5-MAY-1988 05:46
-< Femininity, on any other day >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The day she closed the door behind her when she was to have
a bath, she suddenly realized she had become a woman.
"Strange feeling" she said, "I never cared of closing the door
because I thought nobody would have a look to my body. But today,
just now that I feel everyone would love looking at me, I'm
closing the door..."
That was the beginning of her femininity. And the society knew it,
too.
================================================================================
Note 116.4 Ruth keeps smiling... 4 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 14 lines 5-MAY-1988 05:48
-< Ruth in Makedonja >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Aristotle divided society in men, slaves, and women, he
was affected by a dangerous blindness.
When modern societies today subtly follow that pattern, they are
affected by an even more dangerous blindness: the one conferring
a blind the absolute right to determine what's to be understood by
seeing.
Ruth imagined herself serving Aristotle. But the image started
vanishing in the very moment she got to see his boyfriend smiling
on a dark corner.
================================================================================
Note 116.5 Ruth keeps smiling... 5 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 15 lines 5-MAY-1988 05:50
-< That achieving society striking... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ruth was writing a letter to her friend:
"I think you value yourself by the many times you compare your
plans against your achievements, while I value myself by the
times you have invited me to collaborate in establishing OUR
plans.
As I see that my total score is nil, I'm thanking you now
the few rare moments in which you thought of me"
A tear falling on the paper distorted her writing. And, apparently,
everything stayed unchanged.
================================================================================
Note 116.6 Ruth keeps smiling... 6 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 15 lines 5-MAY-1988 10:49
-< Ruth under Dorian columns >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ruth dressed as a queen under Dorian columns by the azur sea.
Resting her head on her hands, her eyes wandering over the n?car
horizon.
White clouds cross the sky, and the wind blows kindly moving her
black long hair falling on his back. And she hums an old Tesalian
song about maids who become wifes loosing their men in the event
of a war against Esparta.
Ruth, dressed as a queen under Dorian columns in a Greek temple
while the moon illuminates purple fountains in the gardens full
of flowers... while Frigian notes sounded in the distance.
================================================================================
Note 116.7 Ruth keeps smiling... 7 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 10 lines 5-MAY-1988 10:50
-< Sex fence >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Every time she wanted to be a friend, she realized how difficult
it was to break the sex fence. Every time she was feeling happy
with someone, she noticed how easily they jumped the fence and
friendship was taken to a limit.
And when she struggled against that, she always ended with no
friends.
================================================================================
Note 116.8 Ruth keeps smiling... 8 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 9 lines 5-MAY-1988 10:52
-< Only needs a narrow street >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ruth was walking. The streets were narrow. She thought that if
someone created the Universe, he didn't take her into account.
Otherwise it would have been useless to create such a big
Universe when she only needed a narrow street to feel
comfortable.
================================================================================
Note 116.9 Ruth keeps smiling... 9 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 17 lines 5-MAY-1988 10:53
-< Incandescent zirconite >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The memories of her first lover was burning inside her heart like
an incandescent zirconite.
The remembering of the first time her mother looked at her with
hate was hurting like a sunburst.
But she carefully avoided remembering the first time she knew
everyone here seeks to be admired. That would have been too much.
Ruth was clever enough to know that every idea opposing
ethics is neutralized by carefully taking it into the arms and
putting it on ice. That's why she weared gloves when she was to
criticize everything around her.
================================================================================
Note 116.10 Ruth keeps smiling... 10 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 5 lines 5-MAY-1988 10:57
-< Keynote inertia >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Every life has a keynote. Every move is just the power of that
keynote inertia.
================================================================================
Note 116.11 Ruth keeps smiling... 11 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 14 lines 5-MAY-1988 10:59
-< Ruth combing her hair >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ruth was combing her hair under the sunrays. She was
trying to figure out how is that every man is more charming
with a whore than with his wife...
"I do not need to estimate myself thru a man... as this man is so
selfish he thinks he is the only source of my caress".
Ruth thought that when the man hesitates, they say he is
thinking. But when the woman hesitates... they call it doubt.
She was only combing her hair under the sunrays.
================================================================================
Note 116.12 Ruth keeps smiling... 12 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 15 lines 5-MAY-1988 11:01
-< Deep, luminous silence >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"My brother was taught there is a world out there
to be conquered. That's why he measures himself in terms
of the achievements. That's why he is always hunting.
On the other hand, I was taught there are hunters out there
trying to get inside my richer inner world. That's why I have
devised my deep, luminous silence. That's why I'm the victim
running thru a forest while the hunters throw their arrows
to me".
(Shhhhhh... Ruth is about to discover the
virtue of keeping quiet under the storm...)
================================================================================
Note 116.13 Ruth keeps smiling... 13 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 5 lines 6-MAY-1988 05:41
-< Reading a smile >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Caress in my face meaning "Got you!". Kisses in his lips
meaning "didn't I?"
[Ruth, while reading the smile of his boyfriend]
================================================================================
Note 116.14 Ruth keeps smiling... 14 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 17 lines 6-MAY-1988 05:53
-< The sound of a flute in the distance >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The Dorians were endlessly happier than the Frigians, as the latter
manufactured flutes... that the former played.
The Frigians were endlessly richer than the Dorians, as the latter
payed for flutes... that the former manufactured.
Dorians and Frigians were endlessly sad, as they were condemned
to live together valuing the world differently."
Ruth closed the book and wrote on the cover "Treat me like a
Dorian playing with a Frigian boy..."
And a flute sounded in the distance.
================================================================================
Note 116.15 Ruth keeps smiling... 15 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 16 lines 10-MAY-1988 04:59
-< Red lips >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Red lips. A black short tight skirt and the heels of
her shoes ricocheting on the floor. Black profound
eyes: self-sufficient look in her eyes.
She walks steady, as if she were the owner of the world.
She knows she is going to use everything she's got. Every
finger, every smile, her heart, and her sex. She is aware
of her weaknesses: that's the reason why she never looks
directly at the other's eyes.
She is aware of her strength: that's why she looks at you
directly at your eyes.
Red lips, she thinks, can move mountains.
================================================================================
Note 116.16 Ruth keeps smiling... 16 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Blood is the worst witness of truth" 13 lines 10-MAY-1988 05:09
-< A bunch moving between heaven and hell >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Darkness... and the rain as a curtain softly falling
on the other side of a dirty window...
Rusted nails on a wall... a small bed on a corner...
And the dead hands of the clock stopped for ever.
Ruth's birthday, you know, is that kind of days in which
you wonder how long it takes to become what you are:
A bunch of contradictory feelings moving between heaven and
hell called 'Ruth'.
================================================================================
Note 116.17 Ruth keeps smiling... 17 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "There is always a stupid inside of you" 23 lines 19-MAY-1988 10:53
-< Dirty table on a dark corner >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Extremely cold", she thought, "as if I had been sleeping alone...
or simply dreaming I was but sleeping for a long, long time...".
Then she got up, dressed, and went to the kitchen. A dirty table
was her only view. And the last shreds of her dream disappeared.
"I must be off now, otherwise I will be late in the office".
But she knew she had lost that battle, too.
"Every morning I wonder what could happen if I happen to be late
to my rendez-vous with my dreams".
She rubbed her eyes. A couple of kids were playing in the garden.
"Hey, mum! You're gonna be late today!"
The word 'mum' was like an arrow going thru her heart. She got
terrified. "I must have being sleeping for a long time indeed. I
don't remember having kids... and that garden was not there
yesterday..."
She rubbed her eyes again. A dirty table in a dark corner... of
a small kitchen... again.
================================================================================
Note 116.18 Ruth keeps smiling... 18 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "There is always a stupid inside of you" 8 lines 19-MAY-1988 11:00
-< ... into a dish... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Water drops falling into a dish from an old tap.
Nobody's watching you. That's the key, Ruth: you discover the fact,
but you can't share it with someone.
You have found the best peer in the Universe: but you can't share
it with someone else.
================================================================================
Note 116.19 Ruth keeps smiling... 19 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Hankeya, Lakota kin kangi kin oyuspapi" 12 lines 31-MAY-1988 06:35
-< There in a corner >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That's why you sit in a corner watching everyone, in silent.
You was looking for mum to smile at you, but she was looking at
the invoices with a pocket calculator in her hand.
You was trying to grab everybody's else attention, but they were
all so busy watching the TV in the dark.
You finally grew up. Still mum playing her pocket calculator in
the kitchen. And dad was a frozen face in an old photograph.
That's why you sit in a dark corner, and nobody realizes you are
there, watching them.
================================================================================
Note 116.20 Ruth keeps smiling... 20 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Hankeya, Lakota kin kangi kin oyuspapi" 9 lines 31-MAY-1988 06:50
-< If it were... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If it were real, you would love it. But just for a second.
As it isn't real, you just wish you could have it. Endlessly.
And you fight for it, to make it real, and you devote your whole
life to struggle. If every goal a war sets were achieved in a two
day battle, nobody will care going to the front line.
(Ruth, those lights over there mean your city is being destroyed).
================================================================================
Note 116.21 Ruth keeps smiling... 21 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 41 lines 10-NOV-1988 09:26
-< Ruth starts reading... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Ruth starts reading old letters... but she keeps smiling...]
Love,
The way you look is determined by what you see.
Thus, if everything you used to look at was quiteness
and beauty, you get a calm look in your eyes.
If you kept looking a the sea those long summer evenings,
you get a blue look all your life.
If the only thing the world gave you was suffering, and
solitude, your look will be lost in the horizon, frozen
beyond the sun... a sad and profound look. The innocent
and na�ve look of the children gets harder and more obscure
as they grow. But, you know, those about to leave, whose look
is always a trembling and sparkling zirconite, look at you
as if you were the last star in the Universe, or the last
hope in a horrible jail, or the last caress in their cheeks.
When you are down, the mirror tends to be indulgent, reflecting
back to you a beautiful look... and when you are the happiest
man on Earth your eyes challenge the Sun. The wind puts
the intensity, but it is the weak flower the one that marks
the tempo... or, if you prefer, it is the beauty of a
mountain what makes you feel a tiny particle under the sky.
In those moments, and in those places, the endless lanscape
makes the painter to drop colorful tears over his gray palette.
I know what you think: what made me have these empty eyes?
... for, although blind, I can even feel your look...
I loved you, but that is not enough: let me at least take
your hand and whisper to the wind: the look of my memories
is purple, as I miss you, love.
[Never-sent letter to my wife]
================================================================================
Note 116.22 Ruth keeps smiling... 22 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 23 lines 10-NOV-1988 09:27
-< Ruth starts reading... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Love,
Do you remember one of those nights, in which we both thought
of the other as a reason to live?
I was looking across the table at you. And you wondered why. The
things we do for love are always veiled with mystery, although
when we look back to those days we always find a better word:
stupidity.
I suposse we both didn't match each other's expectatives. That's
happen very often, although realizing it it's always hard, and
late. Perhaps we both were driven by mere affinity which, of
course, it is not enough. Attraction is good, but it fails to
keep us tightly coupled.
Having a kid was a radical change: you found an excuse, I missed
another key to the final door leading to you.
And then, I simply sat in the kitchen, looking cross the table at
you.
================================================================================
Note 116.23 Ruth keeps smiling... 23 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 18 lines 10-NOV-1988 09:29
-< Ruth starts reading... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Love,
Yesterday I was playing with the kid. You were not at home.
I got the kid into bed, closed the door, and went to sleep.
You didn't arrive.
As the bed was big enough for me, I couldn't sleep. Your
parfume filled the room... with distance. And it was difficult
dreaming with that sensation.
Then, the door sounded as if you were trying to open it. I forgot
not to lock the door, so I got up and went towards you. But
you weren't there...
Home was dark and cold. And I simply looked at my watch: late
for restoring what was destroyed.
================================================================================
Note 116.24 Ruth keeps smiling... 24 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 18 lines 10-NOV-1988 12:37
-< Ruth is a bird... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ruth wanders thru the sitting room... alone. Nobody at home.
She goes to the bathroom, where every woman dreams of being
different, for a different man, under different circumstances.
Then she goes to the kitchen... empty glasses with lipstick
marks in the edge...
She wanders towards the CD player, inserts a disk, and the music
starts dancing under the lamps... she moves slowly, feeling
her body at full... sweat in her forefront... but she likes it.
Leans her head on a pillow, and as the music goes solid, something
invades her stomach... with a sensation of sweet tenderness...
Ruth's alone. Although she whispers in the air... "If only
were real...".
================================================================================
Note 116.25 Ruth keeps smiling... 25 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 13 lines 10-NOV-1988 12:38
-< who loves flying alone... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She is completely tired, that tiredness mixed up with satisfaction,
as you reach the top of a mountain... and the fresh air passes
by you.
Then, she feels herself miserable, alone. It goes to the CD-player,
pushes a key... and the song emerges as a crude reality:
'never saw a woman so alone...'
The Doors, she knows, makes her no good at all. Lits up a cigarette,
and a tear appears, carefully sliding down the floor.
================================================================================
Note 116.26 Ruth keeps smiling... 26 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 6 lines 10-NOV-1988 12:40
-< ...over the grey city... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Do not get her wrong. If Ruth still keeps smiling, that's
because she is looking for answers.
[That ring in your finger, is everything you've got?]
================================================================================
Note 116.27 Ruth keeps smiling... 27 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 12 lines 10-NOV-1988 12:41
-< ...to make friends... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ruth got a friend!!
Goes to the phone. Picks it up. Dials a number... and she
hears the only voice she is used to:
'It's 4 o'clock, 24 minutes, 34 seconds'
[Outside, the sparrows starts hating the winter]
================================================================================
Note 116.28 Ruth keeps smiling... 28 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 11 lines 10-NOV-1988 12:42
-< ...far from the nest... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Home is getting narrower every day. I can't stand it no more.
Let's get dressed at my best, get out to the streets, let
run towards the commercial street!! I will buy something,
I've got my credit card! I will drive my car and will show
everybody I am alive! God, *I* *am* *alive*!!!!!"
Ruth falls in the sof?, bursting into tears, crying the
whole night... perfectly and nicely dressed... for nobody.
================================================================================
Note 116.29 Ruth keeps smiling... 29 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 18 lines 10-NOV-1988 12:43
-< imagine someday... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ruth?"
"yeah!"
"Are you Ruth L.?"
"Speaking!!!"
"Is that 44056?"
"... no..."
"Sorry, think I made a mistake"
[You guessed it: Ruth still keeps smiling...]
================================================================================
Note 116.30 Ruth keeps smiling... 30 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 51 lines 10-NOV-1988 12:44
-< ... she will find at last >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay. You wanted to know why the hell Ruth keeps smiling. And you
got it: here's why.
If you sound childish, couldn't be just because you went thru
something, a long time ago, something so intense and cruel that
you matured in three seconds??
And if she keeps smiling all the time, isn't it nice?? Isn't a
miracle finding a girl smiling sincerely at everything she
happens to experience?? Is that being foolish???
And if she is your friend, you, my beloved self-controlled
friend, why the hell are you trying to get into her??? Are you
playing those roles just to gain confidence in your false
security??
Listen!! I'm talking to you!! You call her 'abnormal' just
because she retires home, alone, and sleeps alone, and walks
alone, and does everything alone!!! What about you?? Don't you
dream of yourself?? Don't you think of your wife as 'me and MY
wife'??
What's the matter with you, jerk? You think everybody cares about
what you did last night or why you pretend being so happy?
It was only yesterday that you were crying like a baby just
because you lost your nerves. Your family is but a bunch of
strangers you call 'dad' and 'mum'... when was the last time you
visited your grandparents?? When was the last Xtmas that you
really wanted to be all together?? Did you go to the hospital the
day mum got an operation???
You think Ruth is a poor woman. And what upsets you the most:
'she is always with that ridiculous smiling in her lips'. I see,
I see how good you are helping the others: you drive as if your
car were fitted with a joystick and you were killing everything
that moves in front of you. Open your ears:
RUTH KEEPS SMILING BECAUSE SHE KNOWS HOW
not clear enough?? Okay:
RUTH IS ALONE... BECAUSE SMILING ALONE
IS THE ONLY WAY OF SMILING SINCERELY.
You've got to learn it, man. Sorry.
================================================================================
Note 116.31 Ruth keeps smiling... 31 of 31
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 40 lines 10-NOV-1988 12:46
-< a true reason for smiling! >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
RUTH'S FLIGHT
Ruth finally decided to smile for the last time.
She switched off all the lights at home. All the windows
were open, and the skyline was clearly visible: sealights
as a city...
She got out to the terrace... and the moon became a red disk
against a purple sky. She was more beautiful than ever, her
hair extended to the air, as the flag of a victorious ship
crossing the ocean in search of a new land...
She was really pretty, and the whole city seemed to stop
to look at her. "This is my night", she whispered. The sound beyond
the stars were like a golden rain ricocheting on azur forests.
She jumped off... gliding over the sealights ocean... passing
over luminous roads... floating over the bridges of the town...
Ruth was flying, as if someone had put wings to solitude...
... and she smashed against the dirty floor... twenty flats
below her terrace...
I don't know who were those men around her, and why they were
looking horrified... as the body lying on the sidewalk was the
corpse of a beautiful woman that, surprisingly...
... kept smiling at everybody...
Twenty flats over the floor, a metal voice sounded
"It's ten hours, 23 minutes, 54 seconds'"
... and a rugged voiced whispered thru the loudspeakers:
NEVER SAW A WOMAN SO ALONE
Note 118.4 The World of Ups and Downs 4 of 4
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Cold, but fair" 33 lines 24-JUN-1988 06:20
-< Crossbar >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
RE.: 118.0
European soccer championship.
The goalkeeper stands under the crossbar. Nil-Nil. The one who scores
wins the match. The stadium is an inferno. Everybody crying.
A young striker gets the ball, sorts out two defenders, dribbles
another one and suddenly appears in front of the goalkeeper.
It's a second for any casual observer. It's a whole life for both
the striker and the goalkeeper. The look each other directly to
the eyes. They both alone. They are in another world.
"If I score, we will win the match" thinks the striker.
"If I manage to stop the ball, I will be a hero", thinks the
goalkeeper.
Then, the rain becomes heavier. The ball flies thru the air, reaches
the crossbar... and softly kisses the net. It's a goal. "It's a
goal!!!" cries the striker. The mob cries to heaven: GOOOOOOAAAAL!!!
The TV guys jump to the ground. All of them, like flies, around
the crazy striker. Only one, a frustrated interviewer, comes to
the goalkeeper and asks him "How do you feel NOW?"
The goalkeeper, completely down, looks to the sky and answers "What
do you mean by NOW? This goal has killed my timeframe... I can feel,
but I don't know what's NOW..."
The stadium is empty. But there is a two shadows looking each other...
one of them in front of the other. The second one, frozen forever
under the crossbar.
5 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE
================================================================================
Note 127.0 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 34 replies
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 45 lines 31-AUG-1988 05:24
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There, in the deepest corner of the wood, the tiny ant thinks she
is the center of the Universe, for the more she walks and walks,
the greatest evidence of that believe she gets.
Her size, compared to that of the smallest pine in the wood, is
still little enough. Within that Universe she moves. In that
context she develops her thoughts about life. Even if she could
live the life of a million ants, she would still realize she is
left completely alone.
Her concept of the world reduces itself to a minimum portion of a
big region, even smaller when we consider the shadow of a flying
eagle in the clear sky when projected down to the wood. The
limits of her world are not discernible for her. Pieces of wood,
piles of leaves, and a vast and immense horizon extended in front
of her. In that huge spaces she creates music, establishes
communities, develops tools to overcome her limitations, and
wanders to explore more and more contours, to get more and more
knowledge about the surroundings. She tries in vain to imagine
the cosmos. Perhaps she believes everything is but more and more
wood with no limits. And if she successes in picturing any limit,
thousands of questions come to her mind. She tries to figure out
what's beyond the wood, what creatures, if any, dwell those
endless darkness. From generation to generation, each ant has got
to communicate to the rest a meaning of their life; they have set
a goal, for otherwise those immensities would have long ago
exhausted their survival.
The tiny ant has got to believe in the unlimited spaces. And they
are thrown to the wood with the task of exploring it and getting
familiar with it. In that desperate search of knowledge they are.
Experience lomg ago accumulated has taught them the dangers of
the wood, and they have developed the capacity to distinguish the
dust from the web of the spider.
There, in the deepest corner of the wood, the tiny ant thinks she
is the center of the Universe.
================================================================
================================================================================
Note 127.1 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 1 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 12 lines 31-AUG-1988 05:26
-< ... someone must... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
================================================================
"Someone must have created the wood", she says, "and that creator
is mighty indeed, for He only allows me to see a little portion
of it". As the time travels forwards, the ant stops for a while
under the moonlight, resting for a second, refreshing her tired
legs.
================================================================
================================================================================
Note 127.2 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 2 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 23 lines 31-AUG-1988 05:28
-< Keeps travelling tireless... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There, in the deepest corner of the Universe, the tiny photon
keeps travelling crossing cold regions never before reached by
the light. He is persuaded of being the only one in the Universe,
as the measureless and endless spaces extend in front of him
forever and ever.
He knows he cannot stop, not even for a minimum gap of time,
otherwise he will disappear desintegrating himself surrounded by
the unlimited darkness. This reflection never worries him, for he
has a goal: travelling like the endless messenger until something
ever happens to stop him. And previous experiences crossing thru
nebulous atmospheres showed him his task is of a critical
importance. Nothing and nobody can persuade him to stop. "I must
keep on going" he thinks "until I finally find the reason of my
travel!"
Eons of time pass and yet there, in the deepest corner of the
Universe, the tiny photon keeps travelling tireless.
================================================================
================================================================================
Note 127.3 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 3 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 10 lines 31-AUG-1988 05:30
-< He glides over the surface >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A valley reflected in the eye of an eagle. The subjective view of
the eagle. He extends his long wings, stares at a tiny point
quite down the Earth, and initiates his impressive flight.
He glides over the surface, quite over the Earth. His breath
turns into music, and the dawn slowly invades the distant
horizon.
================================================================================
Note 127.4 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 4 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 25 lines 31-AUG-1988 05:31
-< In the inmost line of the pentagram >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the inmost line of the pentagram, in the hidden page of an old
partiture, the note reflects about his existence. He is small
enough as to grasp the slightest idea of what a time is, and far
too less can he thinks of a melody. In the profound portion of a
pentagram, the note experiences the whole composition as a dream.
He has never met other notes, neither is he able to imagine the
mere existence of a group of them, nor the reason of his
existence.
And yet, something inside him tells him of an impelling
committment to remain in his position. He is forced to believe he
is part of a vast composition that will disappear if he hesitates
to stay. In his dreams, he sees himself as a tiny element of a
huge structure consisting of thousands of notes, all of them
perfectly organized, each of them with a clear task within the
entire pentagram. And when he opens his eyes, he just realizes
the frustrating solitude around him.
In the inmost line of the pentagram, the note believes himself he
is the center of the Universe.
================================================================
================================================================================
Note 127.5 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 5 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 6 lines 31-AUG-1988 05:33
-< ... up to the zenith >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The fresh air in the wings of an eagle. As he points towards the
Earth, his majestic body slightly swingles. He flies convinced,
with a self-sufficient movement over the air. And the sun begins
his daily trip gradually climbing up to the zenith.
================================================================================
Note 127.6 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 6 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 23 lines 31-AUG-1988 05:34
-< unlimited wall >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There is a thin brick in the middle of an unlimited wall. He
knows he is not the only one, as millions of bricks around him
are the evidence of an entire construction that, who knows,
perhaps comprises thousands of walls. He thinks he can let
himself drop down to the floor, but he hesitates as the mere
existence of a floor supporting the wall constitutes a only a
faith.
He reflects on the consequences and impact that his death would
bring to the existence of the wall. "Will the wall fall down if I
give up? Or perhaps I'm not that important and nobody would care
if I leave... but, otherwise, if I'm not essential, why do I
stand up here? And if each and all of the bricks think like me,
what would finally become of the wall I'm supossed to be part
of?"
The night falls over the wall. But the smallest brick cannot
notice it, so distracted he is reflecting about his existence
that he forgot the existence of the night!
=============================================================
================================================================================
Note 127.7 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 7 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 31 lines 31-AUG-1988 05:37
-< must keep on reading! >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There, in an obscure ill-illuminated room, the philosopher knows
he is not the only one on the Earth. That's why he writes, as he
has the solid belief someone is out there to read his writings.
He can avoid the sadness, as he has the task to understand the
Universe. Rules are written in old books on the dusty shelves of
his library. His eyes are long tired, for he has read everything
ever written. He now knows the inmost structure of time and
space, he is well fitted to even imagine and design new worlds.
Yet, the mistery of life, he doesn't know.
He knows he is not the center of the Universe for he must still
reach the furthermost limits. Those limits stand in front of him,
as a wood for an ant, a wall for a brick, the space for a photon,
the pentagram for a note... but he feels himself like a flying
eagle... looking down to the world... the subjective view of an
eagle...
But soon he hesitates. Anxiety inside his heart. "Maybe I just
think I know it all... that cannot be true... is just a
temptation to give up my learning. I must continue. I must go on
reading and learning, must keep on reading...".
And the sun looks inside the room illuminating it all, invading
the darkness of knowledge.
There, in a bright illuminated room, the philosopher knows
he is not the only one on the Earth. That's why he bitterly
sweep. Fiercely writing.
================================================================================
Note 127.8 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 8 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 32 lines 31-AUG-1988 05:46
-< The subjective view of an eagle >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As he descends, the eagle watches everything throughly. His
elegance is a mixture of pride, beauty, and terror.
Slightly moves his wings leaving well behind the white clouds. He
observes the landscape. The wood below, the village in the middle
of the forest, the church with its walls, and the soft music
slowly ascending up to his ears.
Vast spaces of green and blue surfaces extend below.
And he knows for sure someone is watching him, quite beyond the
sky, behind the clouds, on top of the creation. He has got a
task, too. Flying over the creation, endlessly watching the flow
of life. An important task he has, for he never stops observing.
There, up in the skies, the subjective view of the eagle
comprises everything ever imagined. He never cries, nor is he
authorized to act.
When the village, centuries after, finally extinguishes and
vanishes in the air, when the tiny ant dies at last, when nobody
is there to read the writings of an old philosopher and when the
last photon of the Universe reaches his destination, a pile of
broken bricks will stand in the middle of a wood.
And the eagle, softly settles on the bricks to catch his breath
and restart his flight.
There, in the measureless spaces of the sky, the eagle knows he
is not the center of the Universe.
================================================================================
Note 127.9 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 9 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 12 lines 20-MAR-1989 09:53
-< Objective kiss of the ant >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There, under the sunrays that calmly reach to the ground, the
tiny ant knows he is not alone.
"Someone is waiting for me, out there. Sure, if I die, nothing
will happen and the Universe will still be wonderful, and the
sunrays will still softly kiss the ground, and even if I don't
exist, the ground will be the ground, and the sun will rise every
dawn"
There, under the blue sky, the tiny ant is everything we've got.
================================================================================
Note 127.10 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 10 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 7 lines 20-MAR-1989 09:54
-< Crude doubt of the ant >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Subjectivism is creativity. Everything we do, we do it for
someone else. I have walked thousands kilometers, just to find
some food. But my travel has been so long... that I have
forgotten where the hell am I going... and what for"
================================================================================
Note 127.11 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 11 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 9 lines 20-MAR-1989 09:55
-< Means to an obscure end >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Sure, there is a goal in all this. We do not work just for the
sake of it. We do work as a means to get resources to reach to an
end. But we spend most of the time working, so much time that we
finally forget why are we working... until we finally believe
working is everything we've got to do... day after day... with no
end"
================================================================================
Note 127.12 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 12 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 7 lines 20-MAR-1989 09:56
-< When the ant stopped working >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"And if ever we stop to wonder why are we working far away from
home, and what the final result of this humdrum of identical days
and nights is, we feel sick... and only know for sure what will
be the final result... if we ever stop working"
================================================================================
Note 127.13 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 13 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 10 lines 20-MAR-1989 09:58
-< When the world thinks of his task >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I'm sitting here, on this hard stone. I can see the others
walking and fading thru the fallen leaves, looking for some food
to carry back home. Everyone has a task, a well-defined and
perfectly outlined task: never they stop, for they think the
world goes with them... but the wind told me the world is
starting to wonder why is he moving around the Sun... and what's
the goal of his movements..."
================================================================================
Note 127.14 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 14 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 6 lines 20-MAR-1989 09:59
-< The rest of the ant >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I am not alone. As I can see your eyes looking at me. We are all
here, all together... being alone... looking each other with
anxiety, for we do not want to be alone..."
================================================================================
Note 127.15 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 15 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 5 lines 20-MAR-1989 10:01
-< Queen of the ants talking >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"These are my arms. Not strong enough to keep my mouth closed.
But strong enough to keep yours perfectly closed."
================================================================================
Note 127.16 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 16 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 9 lines 20-MAR-1989 10:01
-< A different shadow >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I do imagine a different shadow, that coming from the trees over
my head, covers my own shadow. I do imagine a different river,
that passing by me wraps the sounds of my lips as if I were the
river itself. And my tiny legs keep moving, carrying a heavy
burden at my back, heavier than my shadow, as it's being covered
by the shadows of the trees above my head..."
================================================================================
Note 127.17 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 17 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 10 lines 20-MAR-1989 10:03
-< Unexplored soul of the ant >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"There are places in the forest I have never been. But being in
some places it's enough for me to proudly state 'I have been in
the forest'. By the same token... there are places in me I have
never been to, places in my soul still unexplored, but I fear
discovering those places in me, and I just feel comfortable
knowing my beliefs, for that suffices to proudly state 'I have
been in me'..."
================================================================================
Note 127.18 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 18 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 19 lines 20-MAR-1989 10:34
-< Sinergy >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I have six legs, and I move fast. I have two antenn�, and I
touch everything soon recognizing whether I have been here before
or not. I have a brain, too, and I can sense every contour around
me. I can lift up six times my own weight.
I'm clever enough to cross rivers standing on a floating leaf.
I belong to a highly organized spice. Our strength lies in he fact
that we operate sinergically, as one being, with one objective,
with identical beliefs.
We resemble each other so much that if one of us dies, the rest
of the ants never notice it. In fact, we are so much integrated
and we do cooperate so closely that it is very hard to fight
against us when we march thru the forest.
Yes, we all move like one. We all feel like one...
... we all hate like one."
================================================================================
Note 127.19 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 19 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 18 lines 20-MAR-1989 10:35
-< Sad story of the spiders >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The spider is our enemy. I know nothing on spiders, the only
thing I know is the spider is the enemy. I have never seen a
spider, but I have seen the webnets, and the corpses of my
friends deadly fallen into the webnet.
I have no special hate for the spider. To be honest, I do not
believe everything they say about the spiders. Some say, in
the beginning, spiders were ants like we are. They say they
learnt to weave and they did it quite fine. But the Queen felt
envy and sent them away to live alone for ever. So engaged they
were weaving that they forgot how to get food and started
starving.
Starvation was so acute, that they devoured each other and used
their nets to capture ants.
Oh yes! I almost forget remarking we ants are violently sociable!!"
================================================================================
Note 127.20 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 20 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 18 lines 21-MAR-1989 05:50
-< Different views of the world >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"We ants are a highly organized structured society. We have our
own laws, our culture, a value system, a specific conception of
the world as we see it. Sure, everything is explained under our
theoretical view of the Universe, but we diverge from the
organizational point of view from that conception of the bees.
They are also highly organized, they also have a particular view
of the cosmos. But the fact they can fly determine a new and
radical view of the Universe, most of the time in striking
opposition with our own. Although we are more pragmatic, more
realistic, and despite the fact those bees have different and
sometimes hostile interests, we have never came to war against
each other.
We are willing to fight against them, although we do also
cooperate in the investigation and research activities aimed to
enhance our particular views of the world."
================================================================================
Note 127.21 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 21 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 28 lines 21-MAR-1989 05:52
-< Different views of the world >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*******************************************************************
"Bees, you know, think of them as a superior insect, for they
fly, they have developed a sophisticated science to understand the
Sun position, and they know everything about flowers. Also, their
language is radically different from ours. They use body
language, and they say dancing serves as an efficient way to
communicate the position of food, its quantity, and quality.
We, on the other hand, use our antenn� to express our feelings,
the distance to cover to find food, the number of workers
required to get it back home, and the potential dangers we may
find.
No, I have never had the opportunity to discuss with a bee my
political and social views. In fact, we are so different, so
distant each other, that any possible discussion is
automatically forbidden.
Oh, yes, we are very respectful enemies. When they fly over our
heads, we dream of an uniform world in which they could accept
our culture. This thought always makes us to look at them with
love. And if they are looking us, we can clearly distinguish that
same look in their eyes.
Life is hard, but dreaming is still free."
================================================================================
Note 127.22 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 22 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 16 lines 21-MAR-1989 06:14
-< Crickets >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"We are proud of being laborious, hard-working, and industrious.
We clean the forest, we are the renowned engineers in the forest.
Nobody is able to construct and design water piping lines as we
do. Our nests are master pieces of architecture. This is so,
because we have one religion, a solid one: work for you, the
others will never do it.
Maybe you are surprised to know there are other spices that never
work. But it is true. Crickets, for example. Their only goal in
this life is playing and singing. They are lazy people. At night,
you can clearly hear them challenging the wind, singing stupid
songs about Art, the Sky, the Flowers, and similar nonsenses.
I know there is no evil in that. I'm used to their attitudes."
================================================================================
Note 127.23 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 23 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 22 lines 21-MAR-1989 06:15
-< Anthills >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
***************************************************************
"It's me the one working hard, day after day. It's me the one
changing the forest, the one overcoming Nature, the only one
striking to get a new order in this forest. Someone must do it,
it was said. And they just sing and sing, as if life provides you
with everything you need, as if everything here it's taken for
granted. Rain? No problem: they have lots of songs for the rain.
Wind? Aha! Here they are singing as they get crazy swinging on
the flowers!! Poor guys, cicadaes and crickets is everything the
forest needs to become a stupid emptiness of nonsenses. They say
we are serious, formal and excessively responsible. 'Excessively
responsible'... they even have a horrendous song for us.
Artists always hated workers. They say we are not creative. They
say our galleries and channels are anthills with no color. But we
are very understanding to them: every society has its cancer.
We, too."
================================================================================
Note 127.24 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 24 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Chaldea glints" 17 lines 21-MAR-1989 06:35
-< American ant >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The official History is unknown. But everybody knows there were
some ants, long ago, about 200 years ago, that crossed the Big
River and settled down on the opposite shore.
They say some wasps went with them. They were hard workers, too.
In fact, they were bored of our social organization. That way,
they changed it.
Competition was a must, for they had to overcome many problems.
Although the land they found was richer than the old one,
organizing the whole society was very problematic. They invented
new ways to get together. For example: every ant was granted a
territory to exploit it. The goods could be traded at a free
price, so everyone was its own boss and the neighbor was both a
customer and a provider of goods."
================================================================================
Note 127.25 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 25 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Chaldea glints" 21 lines 21-MAR-1989 06:36
-< American ant >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*******************************************************************
"They were radical defenders of their achievements. They had to
work so hard, that they didn't have time enough to spend in Art.
But they were lucky: no crickets in their forests.
They reached to a curious consensus: they decided the wasps to
rule their territory. The territory was so wild, that they soon
managed to devise tricky and sophisticated ways to overcome
problems. They developed into a highly technified society in
which freedom was a basic value.
Now that we know how to cross the Big River, we usually travel
there. It is impressive. They have so much land for them that
everything there is twice the size. But there are great
misunderstandings between we both.
And maybe they have become a brand new kind of ants. Perhaps they
are no more ants..."
================================================================================
Note 127.26 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 26 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Chaldea glints" 18 lines 21-MAR-1989 09:25
-< Nil-Nil as a difference >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"But they are still ants. In fact, they also hate bees, as we do.
But they do not live with them daily. It is easy for a bee to
cross the Big River, but the probability is so low, that those
ants beyond the River still have to have a hard daydreaming to
imagine a group of bees landing in their fields.
This is the main difference between them and ourselves. They have
developed new customs, even strange sport events nobody here
understands. For example: nil-nil is a normal result in our
grasshoper hunting contest. But they say nil-nil is not a result
at all: no sport if no winner, they claim.
Also, they have produced strange food. They say we waste most of
our time handling difficult to carry goods, while we state they
have reduced food to a minimum. They say there are only two views
of the world, while here, every ant has the right to view the
world differently.
================================================================================
Note 127.27 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 27 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Chaldea glints" 23 lines 21-MAR-1989 09:28
-< Both sides of the Great River >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*****************************************************************
Our Queen states everything reduces to misconceptions about each
other's beliefs. We do accept ants sleeping home who do share some
of the views of the bees, but the ants on the other side of the
Big River seem to have different opinions about this issue.
We always avoid talking about differences with the ants beyond
the River, for maybe the bees could see in this a weak point and,
given their will to criticize us, who knows what could happen.
On the other side, those ants on the other side of the Big River
take great care not criticizing our own tradition. We are
condemned not to openly talk about our wishes: they help us, as
every ant will do it for its spice, and we help them, as every
insect will do it. But they say our way of handling problems is
most of the time irritating. They state we take a long time to
sort out obvious decisions.
And we claim they are very impulsive. Our youth proudly claim:
"The country beyond the Big River is our master piece!!"
================================================================================
Note 127.28 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 28 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Chaldea glints" 30 lines 21-MAR-1989 09:30
-< A constellation of ants >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"No doubt, differences are big. It is not only the fact that we
here form a constellation of different cultures, landscapes,
languages, and values, while those ants living at the other side
of the River operate as one culture, with one common language and
with similar beliefs.
We ants always lived that way. I told it before: we operate as
one, we move as one, and we hate as one.
The situation could be different if the Great Crossing were done
with different peoples, languages, and different cultural
background. On the other hand, wasps hardly rule among us. And
that makes a great difference.
I for one, was born South of the main nest, near the Great River.
I find it difficult to speak to the ants North of the mountains,
or to cope with those strange customs of those ants near the
corn fields, or even to work with one of those ants' squad that
patrol the surroundings of the forest.
It is not surprising that we take that long in taking decisions
about the simplest of the matters. But that's our tradition:
We love discussing about our lack of plans,
while the others find it irritating that we
cannot even agree on our lack of plans."
================================================================================
Note 127.29 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 29 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Chaldea glints" 12 lines 22-MAR-1989 09:36
-< The melting pot >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The Queen says the country on the other side of the Big River is
like a melting pot. Wasps and at least three different kinds of
ants, all together, feeling belonging, under the same flag.
On the contrary, we here are only one kind of ants, but every
group behave differently, with different customs and views. They
say there, you can walk and walk for days and nights and still be
in the same country, with the same language, while here, you walk
only for one day and meet different people, with different flags
and particular feelings. I suposse we are the melting pot, while
they are simply a great group of individuals..."
================================================================================
Note 127.30 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 30 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Chaldea glints" 8 lines 22-MAR-1989 09:47
-< One continent >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Life here is always the same. Our most challenging achievement
is this: a big map with frontiers carefully drawn... but that
does not reflect the cultural feeling of the people living within
those frontiers.
Or, if you prefer: living in a galaxy with thousand stars located
in a single continent."
================================================================================
Note 127.31 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 31 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Chaldea glints" 9 lines 22-MAR-1989 09:49
-< No family? >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"We ant have no parents. This frees us from urgent calls
about dad feeling bad, or mum wanting us to go lunching
next Saturday.
It's a great advance compared to birds or mammals.
But, on the contrary, each ant is our brother, and everybody
knows what you are expected to do for your brother..."
================================================================================
Note 127.32 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 32 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Chaldea glints" 8 lines 22-MAR-1989 09:51
-< Your walking stick as a lover >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Our family relationships are very hard. We are very sociable,
what means our society is excessively hiperprotective.
Everyone takes care for the others. Everybody is a walking
stick helping the others to walk.
And we know you cannot fall in love with your own walking stick."
================================================================================
Note 127.33 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 33 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Chaldea glints" 17 lines 22-MAR-1989 10:18
-< Hair in my fingers >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Talking about love is unpleasant for me. As an ant, love
is automatically grouped within the headache or a cold.
They say we ants are superior, for we base every emotion on
a chemical basis. This means every emotion is measurable, while
those inferior beings like mammals only experience a vague and
fuzzy sensation that they are ready to call 'hate', 'love' or
'depression'.
Touching the antenn� of a peer immediatly tells me whether he
is nervous, tired, depressed or simply indifferent.
But... how the hell do you know when does a mammal love you?
Just because a slight bright in the eyes? Or a trembling
hand with your hair in my fingers?"
================================================================================
Note 127.34 THE SUBJECTIVE VIEW OF THE EAGLE 34 of 34
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 17 lines 6-APR-1989 09:08
-< Death of the ant >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As every being on Earth, we also die. This means nothing to
you, I know, and means either nothing to the world. Except
if you are the ant to die. Or if the dead ant means much to you.
In our case, we simply feel the day has arrived. And we
walk away from the anthill, for days, walking carrying with
us the unbearable burden of our existence.
We travel to a corner of the wood, the darkest one. We
move our legs slowly, avoiding the other ants and the Sun.
And we finally shrink our shoulders, smile for a while.
And die.
This means nothing to you, I know.
6 SCENES
================================================================================
Note 128.0 SCENES 89 replies
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 4 lines 2-SEP-1988 10:19
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No, the clouds never get angry when we call them 'clouds'.
================================================================================
Note 128.1 SCENES 1 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 29 lines 2-SEP-1988 10:21
-< Flower >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have a flower that looks red when you look at it from a certain
distance, but that turns yellow if you touch it, and blue when
you don't look at it.
Strange as it may be, the flower does not smell. In fact, nobody
could call it a flower, except that it has the same size and aspect.
I have been tempted to take it to the authorities. Perhaps they
would be interested in such a wonderful discovery.
You may ask how do I know it turns blue when I'm not looking
at it. But that question is a stupid one, provided you don't get
the answer to its mysterious properties I have already explained.
In fact, I haven't yet told you about its other properties. If you
water the flower, it seems to cry. I'm not sure if it is a cry
or just a strange noise coming from inside the flower. No, I'm
not scared, as I have analyzed its behaviour for months.
How do I got it? It was a blind man the one who sold it to me
in the flea market. He didn't accept my money, but he asked me
for it a strange coin: "I sell this flower to the one being able
to give me his entire curiosity".
As I paid this price, I soon became bored of the flower. I forgot
to water it. And one morning I just got inside the room... sadly
realizing... the flower was dead.
================================================================================
Note 128.2 SCENES 2 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 30 lines 2-SEP-1988 10:23
-< The pen >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Never told you about a man who got a pen. It seemed to be a standard one.
But it took only an attempt to write with it or the man to notice
it was nota usual pen. When he wrote, the pen started moving along the paper
writing strange things. When he tried to read what was written, the
ink vanished before he could reach its end.
With the time, he realized the pen just wrote his future. But he
was not scared with this discovery.
He started practising with his new acquisition. The first months, he
used it with care: curiosity sometimes has a terrible end...
Gradually, he felt feel more confident using the pen. One night,
he was writing with it and got to see, just for a second, a portion
of the last sentence who read "...say goodbye to your beloved
son tomorrow".
It was the first time he felt really scared. He couldn't sleep all night.
His son was the only thing he really loved. And that writting was
not a warning, but a prediction.
The day after, he was decided to protect his son. Went out with the
car, nervous, driving like a mad, terrified. The crush was really
serious. The police took a lot of time to retrieve the corpse from
inside the car. Everything was destroyed, except a piece of paper
reading "As you are going to die, say goodbye to your beloved son
tomorrow".
================================================================================
Note 128.3 SCENES 3 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 25 lines 2-SEP-1988 10:26
-< The old man >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They say once upon a time an old man appeared in front of a
castle and asked the soldiers in the door to let him inside
the castle. "Nobody can get in" they answered.
The day after, the man appeared again in front of the door and
asked to get in. The soldiers answered as the day before.
The situation repeated the next day. The fifth day, the youngest
of the soldier asked the old man to explain why he wanted to enter
into the castle. And the old man answered "I must prevent the king
from a danger". The soldiers told the notice to the king, and he
cried "Take that man out of my kingdom!!"
Days after the king died from a misterious disease. The new king
was told about the story of the old man and ordered to bring him
back. After a search all across the kingdom, the soldiers found
the old man. Once in the castle, the new king asked him to explain
what was the message he wanted to deliver. And the old man, with
a cold voice, answered "I only wanted to warn him that, if he didn't
let me in, he would die...".
South of the castle, three men were hung: two soldiers, and an old man.
================================================================================
Note 128.4 SCENES 4 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 26 lines 2-SEP-1988 10:28
-< The river >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I wanted to cross the river. That's why I built a boat. The more
I row, the farther I get from the opposite bank. I'm standing
in the middle of the river after years of rowing.
As the waters flow quietly, I see a little girl in the bank looking
at me, smiling. "Is a good boat the one you have built", she cries to
me, "although you forgot the reason of why you wished to cross the river",
and then disappeared behind the trees.
It rains. And the river gets bigger and bigger, as it does my uncertainty
about why the hell did I ever build a boat. In fact, I have forgot
what do I do in the middle of that river, and even if the river
exists. But if the river doesn't exist, why had I to build a boat?
Being my doubt so hard, I decide that the boat is not there, that it
doesn't exist.
Finally, I appear in the waters trying to save my life swimming. A
second before I finally sink in the profoundity of the black river, I
get to see... a drifting boat slowly approaching the opposite bank.
... and the last words I hear come from a little smiling girl, from
behind the trees, telling me that to believe is not enough: you need
to want to.
================================================================================
Note 128.5 SCENES 5 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 23 lines 2-SEP-1988 10:30
-< The best friend >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He is a good friend of mine. In fact, we are so close each
other that people tend to believe we are like brothers. The
likeness is extremely high: you can't tell which one of us you
were talking to yesterday.
We get on very well. There is no differences between us. But
that's only the external appearance. Once we are alone, we know
each other too much deeply. We love being like one; we like the
same music, we love the same girl, we like the same books, and we
have the same plans for the future.
The only difference is our valuation of the past. We never agree
on the suitability of what we have done. Sometimes our views
about an action is so different that we even discuss loudly...
and we hate each other with so much intensity... that we have
planned to destroy the other one...
You know, my remorse is an old friend: that makes me be quite
strict and cruel about his opinions, particularly when they
concern my past life.
================================================================================
Note 128.6 SCENES 6 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 11 lines 2-SEP-1988 10:32
-< Strangers >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I remember a friend of mine going to a party where he didn't know
anyone. I asked him what the hell was he supposed to do there, as
nobody would talk to a stranger. He smiled and told me that, if I
wished it, I could go with him although he disliked that idea.
"What? You like to go alone tomorrow?" I asked with curiosity; "No",
he said, "but I don't want a party of two friends and a stranger".
Next day, I was told, he got married.
================================================================================
Note 128.7 SCENES 7 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 18 lines 2-SEP-1988 10:34
-< A short battle >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The colonel says outnumbering the enemy is not enough to win a
battle. But the enemy thought that was a trick. The colonel
recruited a thousand soldiers. But then he thought the enemy
could have thought the same, so he doubled the number of soldiers
next day. The third day he thought that maybe some of his own
soldiers were spies conspirating against his victory. So he
decided to go alone to the battle.
In the middle of the battle field a colonel was facing a two
thousand soldiers army. As the enemy's general saw him alone, he
asked him if he surrendered. "No" answered the colonel, "although
you are 2,000 and I am only one, outnumbering the enemy is not
enough to win a battle".
Newspapers reported the shortest battle ever held.
================================================================================
Note 128.8 SCENES 8 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 18 lines 2-SEP-1988 10:36
-< An unfortunate miracle >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A mother was walking down the street with her little baby. When
they cross the road, a car suddenly appears round the corner. The
driver gets to avoid the collision with both of them and crashes
the car against a wall. "It's a miracle!" cries the woman tightly
embracing her child.
Years after, a mother was walking down the street with her little baby.
When they cross the road, a car suddenly appears round the corner. The
driver cannot avoid the collision with both of them and kills
the child. "My god! My god!" cries the woman tightly embracing
the tiny corpse of her dead child.
I know the miracle is just the second case.
================================================================================
Note 128.9 SCENES 9 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 8 lines 2-SEP-1988 10:38
-< Great sensation >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There is a great sensation in watching the wild animals running
freely, with those perfect movements, running happily... only to
be aware of the limits of their jail when they smash their noses
against the fence in a dirty zoo.
================================================================================
Note 128.10 SCENES 10 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 38 lines 2-SEP-1988 10:39
-< Tha last lift >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She takes the lift. The doors close automatically behind her with
a soft 'click'. The luminous indicator shows the floors. Floor
number 1 ("I must be getting older" she thinks). Floor number 2
("Oh my! I'm so terribly tired today!"). Floor number 3 ("I guess
I must take some holidays someday..."). Floor number 4 ("This
lift is so slow..."). Floor number 5 ("What's the matter? Wasn't
this a 4-floor building?"). Floor number 47 ("Oh god! What's
going on here? Where am I going?").
The warning signal starts blinking. Finally, the lift stops and
the doors open. Darkness. She gets out, and sees a long corridor
with no end. Starts walking and her steps sound filling the whole
corridor.
The doors of the lift close behind her with a soft 'click'. And
she finds an empty chair in the middle of the corridor with a
rusted key on it. A couple of little girls appear at the bottom
of the corridor vomiting blood over a white rose.
A broken mirror reflects her face: : the face of an old scared
woman. "Sit there" says one of the girl. "We have brought this
present for you" adds the other girl.
And they extend to the the woman a white rose with some
instructions on how to vomit blood on it. She got terrified and
starts running towards the lift, but she stumbles against the
chair and the rusted key knocks the broken mirror.
A green glowing dust comes from the corridor, embraces her, and
she feels an impelling force that makes her vomit blood over the
white rose. The laugh of the girls are clearly heard echoing on
the corridor... and a song someone sings comes to the woman's
ears "... as you got the wrong lift, you are here with us; as you
got the wrong lift, why do you care?"
================================================================================
Note 128.11 SCENES 11 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 17 lines 5-SEP-1988 08:12
-< Deepest breakfast >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No, I can't see the rain on your face,
nor the sun in your eyes.
No, no; can't see the wind on your hair.
Is so easy to think you see,
you really see,
you really see.
Far away on your hands,
as you take me thru your forests,
can see that rain on your face,
and the drops of milk that fall...
fall on the sand...
fall on the burnt sand...
[Devoted to Ray Lynch "Deepest Breakfast"]
================================================================================
Note 128.12 SCENES 12 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 6 lines 6-SEP-1988 07:02
-< Mathematics I >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The circle is endlessly tied up to its center. To that center he
belongs, for that center he lives.
And if someone ever destroys its center, the entire circle disappears.
To this relationship of depence we call it "the circle's definition".
================================================================================
Note 128.13 SCENES 13 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 7 lines 6-SEP-1988 07:09
-< Mathematics II >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They both are condemned to watch each other, to keep the exact distance
between each of its points, this distance between constant along
the entire line.
Two lines love and hate each other, constantly, always to the same
extent. To this unbearable mix of feelings we call it "parallelism
of straight lines".
================================================================================
Note 128.14 SCENES 14 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 11 lines 7-SEP-1988 09:15
-< Mathematics III >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Reason is not enough", said the imaginary number. "Otherwise, I
wouldn't exist...".
All the numbers were listening him carefully.
"In some instances, as in religion, we must have Faith. When reason
is not enough, faith's the answer...".
Everybody was listening in silent. But number pi was sadly wondering...
that even in mathematics... you have to believe... otherwise, the
imaginary number wouldn't exist...
================================================================================
Note 128.15 SCENES 15 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 9 lines 7-SEP-1988 09:20
-< Mathematics IV >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Square... that horrible place in which you must coexist together
with other three points constantly keeping the right distance, the
90 degrees angle... that constitutes the essence of a jail called
"square"...
"No, I'm not going thru that! I wouldn't stand it!" cried little
pi looking at the square.
That's why all jails are squared.
================================================================================
Note 128.16 SCENES 16 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 13 lines 7-SEP-1988 09:26
-< Living in a clock >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Uff! I'm so tired running this fast! If only I could rest like
the hour hand there!" said the second hand.
"Jeez! How much I hate that second hand running that fast! If ever
I could run like him, flying thru this sphere..." thought the hour
hand.
"C'mon, you two!" cried the minute hand. "See, I'm the perfection
in this Universe, for I run at the right pace, not too fast, not
too slow!!".
None of them knew how important it was for the clock universe that
they three never talked each other.
================================================================================
Note 128.17 SCENES 17 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 1 line 7-SEP-1988 09:28
-< Living in a clock II >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The whole life lasts a minute..." thought the minute hand.
================================================================================
Note 128.18 SCENES 18 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 19 lines 7-SEP-1988 09:35
-< Living in a clock III >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At precesely twelve o'clock the three hands met.
"Hey! You are late again!" said the hour hand to the minute one.
"It's not me! Is just the second hand the one travelling slowly!"
he answered. "Really?" asked sarcastically the second hand "I saw
you at three past two sleeping!" he condemned.
"That's a lie! That's a fucking lie!" cried the minute hand.
"C'mon! Do not quarrell. Stop it now!" ordered the hour hand. "Let's
go back to work. Next hour I want you two exactly on time. Am I
clear?".
And they three started walking. First slowly, then the second hand
began running, the minute hand started to get away from the hour
hand, and the hour hand, smiling, thought "I know, I know there
must be a reason for this routine!".
Living in a clock was becoming harder.
================================================================================
Note 128.19 SCENES 19 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 8 lines 7-SEP-1988 09:40
-< Living in a clock IV >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"They say thay have invented a new Universe in which no hands are
needed" said the second hand to the date window. "Maybe is true..."
answered the date window with indifference. "But we all know that
isn't possible, is it?" insisted the second hand. "Well, I think
they do it with digital technology. Numbers, you know."
Everybody could see the second hand with tears in his eyes as he
walked around the sphere of the clock. Nobody asked.
================================================================================
Note 128.20 SCENES 20 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 9 lines 7-SEP-1988 09:43
-< Match box I >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"There is a fire in your heads, that you must devote to sacrify
your existence" said the old match to the crowd.
"And what happens then?" asked a young match with blue head.
"You simply cease living".
Nobody believed the old match... for there are truths too hard to
digest.
================================================================================
Note 128.21 SCENES 21 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 8 lines 7-SEP-1988 11:13
-< Match box II >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"If I'm to die, why not now? And if I'm to be burnt, why not beginning
right now?" wondered the little blue head match.
"If I start burning, they say, I could inadvertently burn the
others heads; that prevails me from burning: the security of the
whole box belongs to each of us...".
================================================================================
Note 128.22 SCENES 22 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 7 lines 8-SEP-1988 05:26
-< Match box III >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"In the beginning" explained the old match "we were made of wood,
strong wood they used for us; and it was a long rooted tradition".
Then, he stopped for a while, got his look lost in the wind, and
whispered "but nowdays, they are using those plastic little sticks
covered with wax... so that the flame we produce when we die lasts
enough... and they have also changed our head... but not our souls"
================================================================================
Note 128.23 SCENES 23 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 3 lines 8-SEP-1988 08:07
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No. If you think the match is dead just because it lies completely
burnt on the ashtray, that's because you are not looking at the
curled smoke playing around the neon light.
================================================================================
Note 128.24 SCENES 24 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 17 lines 13-SEP-1988 08:30
-< Fision I >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That kind of human relation in which she was scared by the fact
that we depend so little on ourselves, that we cannot change the
environment.
The single problem outside her relation was automatically
internalized. If her mother was ill, she was consequently ill. If
she couldn't help, she got anxious, frightened and, trembling in
dispair, she cried silently.
That kind of human relation in which he was so decided, so
convinced that he could outcome the many obstacles in life that
he inspired security to anyone around him. He was perfectly aware
death was invincible; he knew psychologic stability was an asset
and when he faced a problem, he always knew what to do, how to do
it, when to do it.
================================================================================
Note 128.25 SCENES 25 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 11 lines 13-SEP-1988 08:31
-< Fision II >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
************************************************************************
They met a wintry evening. She was walking down the streets lost
in her anxieties. He was walking steadly looking for new enemies
to beat.
They got married a rainy day of April. She tried to imagine that
was a sign for something to come. He simply embraced her under
the umbrella, disregarding the rain over their heads.
================================================================================
Note 128.26 SCENES 26 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 14 lines 13-SEP-1988 08:33
-< Fision III >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"What to do now?", she frequently asked, before she could realize
he was already doing something. "I'm scared" whispered her, but
she didn't end the sentence when he already had kissed her and
the problem bursted into thousands pieces.
When in bed, she loved him as a protector. As soon as he realized
that look of precious metal in her eyes, he looked at her, and
with a voice reaching her ears like a soft and warm wind, he said
"I'm not your protector. You need to cope alone with your
problems. I will always help you, but you must learn to defend
yourself".
================================================================================
Note 128.27 SCENES 27 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 16 lines 13-SEP-1988 08:34
-< Fision IV >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As time passed, they both learnt each other perfectly. He knew
everything about her, and still found himself many times
surprised about her reactions.
She soon learnt how much he loved her, and how bitter he could
become... when he realized her dependecy on him. "I know you can't
stand it, but I know you are strong enough to find the wayout by
yourself" he said.
"I feel myself confused, don't trust my strength to face it" she
answered. But he closed his eyes and whispered "I need you strong
enough, for love requires independence... I'm not helping a
cripple... I'm teaching you how to walk using your own legs".
================================================================================
Note 128.28 SCENES 28 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 10 lines 13-SEP-1988 08:35
-< Fision V >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They broke the relation a wintry evening. She was walking down the streets
lost in her anxieties and thinking of that kind of human relation
in which she was aware of the fact that we depend so little on
ourselves, that we cannot change the environment.
She didn't notice it, but up in the sky... the sun appeared.
================================================================================
Note 128.29 SCENES 29 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN 4 lines 19-SEP-1988 03:00
-< Perfect Machine I >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The perfect machine doesn't exist", they say.
But... what if that is a recorded message from a perfect
machine trying to convince us of the impossible?
================================================================================
Note 128.30 SCENES 30 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN 9 lines 19-SEP-1988 03:04
-< Perfect Machine II >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He went into his flat. Dropped his jacket on the bed and switched
the answering recorder on. "Hello, this is Ann. Today we have a
meeting at 8 o'clock. Take care".
He pressed the rewind button to hear the message again: "Hello,
this is Ann. Today we have a meeting at 8 o'clock... AS I TOLD YOU
BEFORE. Take care...". He got petrified.
The answering recorder winked. He couldn't sleep that night.
================================================================================
Note 128.31 SCENES 31 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN 9 lines 20-SEP-1988 03:20
-< Possible Physics I >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yes. That apple on the head of Newton opened a new age
for physics.
But, sometimes, I can't help thinking of the implications
of that apple falling down, knocking his head and then,
slowly, getting up, describing a circle in the air, and
returning to his tree. Yes. That could be the birth of
a brand new world...
================================================================================
Note 128.32 SCENES 32 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN 4 lines 20-SEP-1988 03:22
-< Possible Physics II >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Everybody knows about the dual nature of light. Wave and
corspuscle. But nobody knows about the terrible decisions
she must take every time she moves...
================================================================================
Note 128.33 SCENES 33 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN 10 lines 20-SEP-1988 03:23
-< Possible Physics III >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There is a tiny radiation inside a quark called "queltron".
Scientifics desperately try to lock it inside a mathematical
jail. The are looking for a key to open the quark and have a
look inside.
At night, the queltron dreams of that day... in which, at last,
he will own the key that closes the door of his paradise.
"Ah!" he whispers "If ever I get that key! Only then could I
become free!!"
================================================================================
Note 128.34 SCENES 34 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN 21 lines 20-SEP-1988 03:25
-< Possible Physics IV >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As the overcurvity of the ecliptic increases, its effects
on the Earth are greater, and a slight headache invades
the brain of K.
As the headache increases, K. decides to take that bus
that goes to nowhere and reaches every place. As the bus
stops, K. gets off and starts walking thru the streets
that reach nowhere and go to every particular place.
As K. feels tired, he sits down on the floor to take a rest,
in front of a door. Then, distractely, he knocks the door and
the door opens... and a mighty warrior appears.
"How do you dare knocking the imperial door?" he cries. As K.
only stares at him in silence, the warrior throws his spear,
that crosses the air describing an ecliptic curve.
As the overcurvity of the ecliptic increases, its effects
on the Earth are greater, and K. cannot stand anymore that
terrible headache, falling down to the floor, endlessly.
================================================================================
Note 128.35 SCENES 35 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 21 lines 20-SEP-1988 06:42
-< Ecology I >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He loved birds from his childhood. When he was 16, he decided
to devote his life to study birds. When he was 45, he was
considered the most expert scientific in birds' ethology.
Thirteen years later, he devised a machine that translated
the song of a bird. At dawn, he entered his lab where a
nightingale looked at him from his jail. He put the machine
to work. The bird sang as usually, but this time his song was
carefully recorded by the machine. After a few minutes, the
printer started producing the printouts with the translation.
He was fascinated, nervous. Got in his hands the first printout
and read behind his glasses: "Set me free, otherwise you are
a criminal!".
He dropped the printout. Walked towards the machine and switched
it off. He didn't dare looking at the bird.
When he was thirteen, he loved birds. Whe he was fifty eight,
he hated himself.
================================================================================
Note 128.36 SCENES 36 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 4 lines 20-SEP-1988 06:56
-< Ecology II >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No. The whales do not committ suicide. But we all feel more
comfortable blaming those poor souls than taking on us our
own blame.
================================================================================
Note 128.37 SCENES 37 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 3 lines 20-SEP-1988 06:57
-< Ecology III >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yellowstone burning. A piece of us all goes in it...
... but Yellowstone doesn't know.
================================================================================
Note 128.38 SCENES 38 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 4 lines 20-SEP-1988 06:58
-< Ecology IV >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Take a look to that river", said the old bowl.
"I don't see any river, but a dirty road" said the snake.
"Oh, yes. I forgot they have already taught you what a river is..."
================================================================================
Note 128.39 SCENES 39 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 3 lines 20-SEP-1988 12:10
-< Ecology V >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The bad engineer devises a dam in a valley. And goes back home.
The good engineer devises a valley with a dam. And goes back home.
================================================================================
Note 128.40 SCENES 40 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 7 lines 20-SEP-1988 12:11
-< Ecology VI >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Astronomers, from the Earth, find specially fascinating
the collision of two galaxies.
I wonder what's the opinion of those astronomers whose
planet, unfortunately, is part of one of those colliding
galaxies...
================================================================================
Note 128.41 SCENES 41 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 3 lines 22-SEP-1988 08:55
-< Politics I >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Talks the Ministry of Economics: "So many promises, so little time!"
Talks the Ministry of Culture: "So much time, so little promises!"
================================================================================
Note 128.42 SCENES 42 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 19 lines 7-APR-1989 11:43
-< Smoke over our heads >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There is smoke over our heads, with noises, voices, lost looks at
dirty windows, blank eyes, thousand conversations, promises, cold
kisses, questions nodody wants to answer, movements in the
darkness, wind circles... fallen leaves, errors, dates,
travels, wishes... and wasted time trying to keep pace with
this crazy days.
But you know you've got a drawer in your room, with a set of
old photographs. So you know sometime you were someone with
a deep wish.
Even when they try to snap your photographs out of your hands,
even when your own friends are no more only yours, even when
your hobbies are all lost in that same drawer... with your
music records standing cool on the table.
================================================================================
Note 128.43 SCENES 43 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 13 lines 7-APR-1989 11:45
-< Line's engaged >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... and that day comes, in which you feel a little tired, but
lucky enough to be alone at home. Moving your eyes all across
the walls, in silence, as if you were happy enough to have
a memory ready in your pocket.
Yes, every thing at home is part of your history. But that
telephone over there... is your new heart.
Put a dime on it, dial the number of life. The line is engaged...
================================================================================
Note 128.44 SCENES 44 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 16 lines 7-APR-1989 11:47
-< That's the lot you've got >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You are great. You have been with us a lot of time. You have done
what you was expected to do.
But you wonder why everything seems to ignore you. Perhaps that
is just a feeling: don't do a battleground of that. You are great.
And if you desperately want to know what have you won since
everything started, do not look around you. No.
.... just take your hands to your face and look at them.
Tears? That's the lot you've got. You are great.
================================================================================
Note 128.45 SCENES 45 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 23 lines 7-APR-1989 11:48
-< She is young >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She was young. Otherwise she wouldn't be in a hurry every
evening. And only a young woman loves mirrors. But she never
takes care of the time. That's why she is always in a hurry.
And even now, sitting in a cold chair in the kitchen, reading
magazines with pictures of young women, even when her kids
are no more kids and married young women and her husband died
long ago, even when she cannot remember her own telephone
number... she is young.
Otherwise, why does she rush to the telephone if she positively
knows nodoby is calling her? Why does she insist in cleaning
the mirror in the bathroom if she hates looking at her own face?
Why does she tremble every time she looks into the letterbox
if she has never received a letter?
Only she knows the answer: it is... because she is young.
================================================================================
Note 128.46 SCENES 46 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 20 lines 7-APR-1989 11:51
-< Newspapers >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That's where the naughty kids stand. It is call 'the corner'.
And you are there trembling, with your hands on the wall, and
the wall trembles, too. And your friends are also against the
wall, the trembling wall.
And someone loads the gun behind you all.
And the wall fiercely trembles. And you hear a metal voice
and a click. And you cannot stand it, so you keep your hands
off the wall...
... but the wall keeps trembling, as the bullet kisses
your nape... and another TV image goes round the world:
a bloodstained wall.
But you do not read newspapers, do you?
================================================================================
Note 128.47 SCENES 47 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 27 lines 7-APR-1989 11:53
-< Wild animals >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As he concentrated on his main problems, he couldn't take
properly care of his friends. So, a slow process started in
which he was progressively loosing friends, and he became
an isolated animal, got the look of an animal, and roared
like an animal.
Nobody wanted to be hurt, and he wanted to hurt nobody, so
he imprisoned himself at home, and the home turned into a
jail where a dangerous animal lived.
So he got more confused even. And anxiety was hanging
from his terrible teeth that he showed to anyone daring
approaching him.
As he concentrated in his own problems, everyone felt he
was selfish.
The day I met him was a terrible day. I was looking
at the shop windows, concetrated on my problems. Suddenly,
I saw the face of an isolated animal looking at me directly
at my eyes.
My old friend was lost, wandering thru the crowd, like
a beast, thinking of his problems. Flames in his eyes.
================================================================================
Note 128.48 SCENES 48 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 10 lines 7-APR-1989 11:54
-< The warm click >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The phone rings. Someone asks for you at the other end.
It's a cool voice reminding you of dinner in a restaurant
whose name you forgot, with a person whose eyes you cannot
remember now.
Then, hard words thrown at you. And a click.
It's a warm click. The click of an electric friend.
================================================================================
Note 128.49 SCENES 49 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 20 lines 7-APR-1989 12:00
-< Quite Force >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It is raining, but you don't get wet.
There is a traffic jam, but you simply turn your radio on
and start enjoying. Hard times, but you never loose your
smile.
How do you do it? How can you be in this world as if the
world had nothing to do with you? How do you get those
bright eyes when everything here is gray?
You are wonderful, walking thru the main street as if you
were having a walk in a quiet forest. And you've got
strength, and force.
Quite force. Perhaps because you are the rain itself, perhaps
because you are really in a forest, perhaps because you are
riding your smile as a white horse. Perhaps...
... but how the hell do you do it???
================================================================================
Note 128.50 SCENES 50 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 10 lines 10-APR-1989 08:17
-< Special beings >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She was not looking at the Sun, but it was the Sun
who was looking at her.
She was not looking at the Sea, but it was the Sea
the one inside her eyes, and if you look inside them
with care, you'll see the calm waves moving lazily...
That made her being a special being. The only one
for whom the things happen and the only one to whom
things never happened.
================================================================================
Note 128.51 SCENES 51 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 5 lines 10-APR-1989 08:19
-< Hobbies >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Take this life as your hobby. Devote to it only those
moments you really enjoy.
The rest of the day? Think of your favourite hobby!
================================================================================
Note 128.52 SCENES 52 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 8 lines 10-APR-1989 08:21
-< Never made it before >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I told you everything is always the same. Take that telephone
booth, for example.
But you took me by the hand, pushed me inside and kept smiling
all the time. Yes, of course I was surprised.
I never made it in a telephone booth, before...
================================================================================
Note 128.53 SCENES 53 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 7 lines 10-APR-1989 11:18
-< A secret not shared >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Well, perhaps you are right. Perhaps everybody needs a little
recreation, a little freedom to his imagination, just a chance
to see the world the way we know it is not, the way we know it will
never be.
The way only you and me know it should be.
================================================================================
Note 128.54 SCENES 54 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 9 lines 10-APR-1989 11:19
-< Crutches >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay. I will accept for a moment you are right and I'm wrong.
I will agree with you there is no need to think too much of
me.
I will even embrace the idea I'm too much selfish, too much
self-confident. Alright. Here I am.
Now... would you mind giving me my beloved crutches, please?
================================================================================
Note 128.55 SCENES 55 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 23 lines 10-APR-1989 11:21
-< Redesigning Mondays >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Who said I'm not able to enjoy a Monday evening in a place
like this?
Who said I'm not capable of redesigning a Monday? Was it me?
I will go home, I will phone the family, I will invite everyone
to have a dinner tonight at home. Yes, it's likely no one will
come for everyone is tired after a hard Monday.
But, at least, I will give myself the opportunity to do things
nobody does on Mondays. Yes. I must break Monday's Law. I must
be convinced.
But, what if someone has already decided to do the same? What
if thousands of guys are already in the mall shopping for their
dinner? Should I find a place to park the car? Should I stay
three hours queuing? What if half the town is ringing the other
half up?
I think is better leaving the Monday be what always was:
A bunch of people dreaming of redesigning the Monday, as they
wait for the Tuesday to come...
================================================================================
Note 128.56 SCENES 56 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 29 lines 11-APR-1989 10:03
-< The dreams of a kid >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My little brother has not passed an exam. Although he knows
nothing on potential consequences for his future (he is only 8),
everybody at home has taken this issue very seriously, and
after a couple of talks with dad, he seems to be very much
aware of the problem.
But he keeps on looking us as if we were The Enemy.
As a matter of fact, who could trust a brother that has
given you such a punch in the face of innocence? How
am I to approach him when he is only 8 and I have destroyed
his marvellous TV evenings?
The only thing left is talking to him again. But then, he
has closed his bedroom's door, spends the evening listening
to Mendelssohn's "Italiana" and has swore to shoot at everything
moving in the darkness...
***************************************************************
There he is: deeply sleeping. And here I come, silently moving
in the darkness...
... as if I were a terrorist about to bomb
the dreams of a kid...
... the dreams of someone violently pushed into
our cool cavern!!
================================================================================
Note 128.57 SCENES 57 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 24 lines 11-APR-1989 10:07
-< Another flag, another army >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You called it 'irrational love', but you are wrong, for I do not
know any love more rational than the one I'm proposing you.
I have chosen you as my flag and have tied my future to you. This
means I 'must' love you, forever. I am to love you despite
yourself, despite myself. And you didn't like it, for you said
this is an irrational love.
How can you state that? Isn't it a rational love the one being
reasoned and formalized as the one I'm offering? The other one is
the true irrational love: that situation in which you love
without knowing why you do it. You simply love, instinctively,
irrationally.
You call me a Chiite of love. And you even get frightened by my
love. If ever I feel something for you, the last thing I'm gonna
do it's betraying my feeling. Once I feel, I feel for ever.
So, please, stop calling me a terrorist lover. And if it happens
you do not love me...
... I will be ready to serve to another cause.
Another flag, another army.
================================================================================
Note 128.58 SCENES 58 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 19 lines 11-APR-1989 10:09
-< Always wanted to know... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Always wanted to know,
whether the word 'accent' has no accent,
whether the word 'love' contains love inside,
whether the word 'music' sounds music to you,
and whether the word 'world' includes
you and me.
Always wanted to know,
why do they say the word 'accent'
has really no answer,
the word 'love' has no love inside,
the word 'music' is soundless,
and the world does not
include you... and me.
================================================================================
Note 128.59 SCENES 59 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 14 lines 11-APR-1989 10:11
-< Seamless wall >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Seamless wall surrounding your eyes.
Seamless closed eyes
encircled by a wall.
But still I can see the light,
through an endless depth,
through a voiceless song...
I should leave you now,
should go far away,
crossing that depth,
crashing against the seamless wall.
================================================================================
Note 128.60 SCENES 60 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 27 lines 12-APR-1989 09:15
-< Don't move >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You couldn't sleep that night. You got up and went to the
bathroom without turning on the lights. You entered the
bathroom, but you felt like a stranger in a new place.
Your hand touched a cool wall. Everything was unfamiliar.
Suddenly, you saw something moving in front of you in the
darkness. The more frightened you get, the bigger it gets
that shadow in front of you.
It seems to be someone... or something, perhaps an animal,
but what the hell does an animal do in your own bathroom?
Though you are not quite sure you are now in your bathroom.
Perhaps it's just a nightmare. You are likely to be dreaming,
although that horrible voice clearly heard from the darkness...
So you get really scared. You cannot recognize your bathroom,
and you are not sleeping. Sweat in your hands. Cold sweat.
And the little calm you've got is now fading... so you start
smiling, laugthing, running!
But the shadow goes with you. Always in front of you, till it
starts moving towards you, slowly...
"Welcome", he says, "I'm your own fear. Did I scare you?"
================================================================================
Note 128.61 SCENES 61 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 13 lines 13-APR-1989 02:51
-< Newsreel >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"We do not know how many of them we kill. Wearing this
gas mask makes it difficult to count how many of them
we shoot down.
I simply keep walking, get to see someone running, aim,
and fire. That's all.
Kids? Maybe, maybe some of them are also shot down."
[Serbian Soldier on Kosovo disorders, quoted in POLITIKA]
================================================================================
Note 128.62 SCENES 62 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 13 lines 14-APR-1989 11:18
-< The worst push ever >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No. You have not given birth to an ill and weak child.
If he just stumbles, hesitates, and falls down the
floor, it is just because you are pushing him too much
forward.
You even didn't touch him? Of course, but you embrace
the hidden wish to make of him someone completely
different as you are.
And that's the worst push you can ever give him.
Believe me.
================================================================================
Note 128.63 SCENES 63 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 8 lines 14-APR-1989 11:19
-< Your weak redeemer >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Look at him now. He is so little. But he thinks of you
as the greatest man in his tiny Universe. The only one
to whom he can trust.
Although you and me we both know...
... you want him to be your redeemer.
================================================================================
Note 128.64 SCENES 64 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 7 lines 14-APR-1989 11:20
-< Stupid grownups >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Stupid kids always think of a little cavern where they can hide
from the outside world.
Stupid grownups always are ready to destroy that thought.
Not because they are stupid. But because they are grownups.
================================================================================
Note 128.65 SCENES 65 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 15 lines 14-APR-1989 11:27
-< Archeologists >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Every archeologist knows the secret of travelling to the past.
You enter into the remains of an old castle, of an Etruscan
cemetery.
And you hear steps... feel kisses... and hear voices.
You can't see it? I know, I know:
the feet are gone, but the steps remain,
the lips are gone, but the kisses remain..
the mouths are dead... but the voices remain...
Every archeologist knows the secret...
of travelling backwards in TIME.
time
================================================================================
Note 128.66 SCENES 66 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 11 lines 14-APR-1989 11:31
-< Run and Hide >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You liked to play run and hide.
But that afternoon, you ran too much, and you hid
yourself so far away that I didn't find you.
Now I'm old. But still looking for you. I know you liked to play
run and hide. I thought you were in my dreams, that way I like to
dream constantly, always dreaming to find you, under my blankets,
inside my fist...
But I didn't find you. Didn't find you.
================================================================================
Note 128.67 SCENES 67 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 15 lines 17-APR-1989 04:43
-< Circled winds >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Waiting for a change in the weather.
As if a clear sky, with spotted clouds here and there,
with a wind slightly blowing, and a nice temperature
were everything I need to rush out to the fields.
And madly run, jumping and crying.
But a bad winter has terrified my eyes, and even when
I can feel the sun on my skin, and the wind in my face,
still I remember that winter...
... that leaves dead sparrows on my window,
and iced tears over the lake.
================================================================================
Note 128.68 SCENES 68 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 21 lines 17-APR-1989 04:44
-< Circled Winds >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have never asked the wind,
what fun does it find,
in destroying the flowers of my garden,
in blowing thru the scars of my old oak,
in tearing the old curtains of my room.
I have never asked the wind,
what goal does it pursuit,
when it knocks at my door,
when it calls me in the night,
when it sweeps out my dreams.
I have never asked myself,
what do I do in the garden,
moving in circles,
whispering at my ears,
playing with the folwers,
riding on the wind!
================================================================================
Note 128.69 SCENES 69 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 2 lines 17-APR-1989 04:45
-< Circled Winds >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Does the fallen leaf know why does it fall?
================================================================================
Note 128.70 SCENES 70 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 21 lines 17-APR-1989 04:51
-< Circled Winds >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It is a long distance between your smile
and that tear slowly leaving your eye,
sliding down your cheek,
and falling to the floor.
It's a long distance between
that little hand taking your hand,
and that hand closing the eyes
of the one who has gone away.
It's a long distance between
a tear, and a tear within a tear;
between the first step of a child,
and the day in which it is carried away,
inside a black coffin,
inside a dark jail...
It is a long distance,
everyone must walk.
================================================================================
Note 128.71 SCENES 71 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 34 lines 17-APR-1989 06:00
-< Circled Winds >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was following
your steps on the snow,
your tracks on the sand,
your whispers in the wind.
I was keeping with me,
your face reflected on mirrors,
your blood in my hands,
your kisses in my lips.
But I reached a desert beach,
rised my head to the sea,
and saw the Sun melting,
sinking in the waters,
fading away in fog,
rubbing out your steps,
distorting your image,
and writing in the sky,
My taking the wrong way,
my wasting the whole time,
my loosing my way home...
following my own steps,
walking in circles,
like a whirling wind,
like a desperate runner
trying to escape
the shadows in me,
lost in a circled wind...
================================================================================
Note 128.72 SCENES 72 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 18 lines 17-APR-1989 06:13
-< Circled Winds >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Of course,
of course you want to kiss your own lips,
to hold yourself in your own arms,
to look inside your own eyes,
to dance together with yourself...
To weep your own weeping,
to laugh at your own laugh,
to live your own life.
Of course,
of course you are imaging all this...
...but the sweat in your breast,
isn't it a sign of how powerful you are?
of how intensively you dream?
of how much alive you are?
================================================================================
Note 128.73 SCENES 73 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 7 lines 17-APR-1989 11:10
-< Circled Winds >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
But if your hand cannot touch that flower in the moon,
that's not because you cannot reach that high,
but because of this thorny gate,
that tearing your skin,
gets in your hand,
your trembling hand.
================================================================================
Note 128.74 SCENES 74 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 28 lines 17-APR-1989 11:11
-< Only a tale >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Every door has a keyhole, and every keyhole needs a key.
And if you throw away the key, the key will spend a
lifetime looking for its keyhole, even if there is no
more doors, even if the keyhole gets rusted.
From the depths of the oceans, from the heights of the
skies, the key will fight against time and space,
searching its keyhole, looking for a door without a key.
Some day, perhaps it was yesterday, you found a key on
the sand, a rusted key nobody needs anymore. But you
remember that door you couldn't open long time ago.
And as you look for that door, you get older, and loose
your sight till every thing is just a shadow for you...
... the shadow of a closed door, and your trembling hand
extends towards the keyhole, inserting the key, and the
wind blows slightly opening the door... the door you could
never open, the door without a keyhole, the door you dreamt
someday will open for you.
And when you wake up, you smile thinking of keys...
... but someone in the darkness drops a rusted key to your feet.
You weeping? My friend, this was only a tale...
================================================================================
Note 128.75 SCENES 75 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 20 lines 17-APR-1989 12:30
-< Circled Winds >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Your days get longer and longer.
So does your suffering.
And the darkness get bigger and bigger.
So does your fear.
But you keep staring at the clock,
and the clock keeps staring at you.
You are waiting for the HOUR, but the clock doesn't know.
So he keeps striking hour after hour, trying to analyze
your reactions, as if he were expected to give you the
answer to a question he never heard.
Your days get longer and longer.
So does your suffering.
And the darkness get bigger and bigger.
So does your fear.
================================================================================
Note 128.76 SCENES 76 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 42 lines 18-APR-1989 04:01
-< The book >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have only one book. Not many, you may say.
But the fact is this is a special book, for every time
I read it, I turn back to the cover to notice the title
has changed, and so has the content.
So, each time I read the book, I end with a new one,
and I start reading the book again, a complete new one.
At present, I have read houndreds of books, but my
library contains only this one, a single book, just one
book.
Curiously, each time someone has a look into the book,
starts commenting "Oh! It's a nice book on History".
Others just say "Oh! It's a nice book about Archeology!"
and I have even recently received a visit of a friend
of mine wanting to borrow "That book you have on Geography".
Yes, everybody thinks I have only one book, but they never
agree on the contents. The problem is I live in the Empire,
where every citizen is measured against his properties. You
are what you have. And I'm worth only one book, while the
rest of the population worth thousands books. I have
been reclassified as "illiterate". They have forced me
to move South of the Empire, together with the sick people,
the bastards, the crippled, the robbers, and the whores.
We are prosecuted. Constantly. They say the Empire needs
higher souls, capable men and women. Not illiterates.
How can I explain the imperial authorities that my book
is all of the known books at the same time? They wouldn't
believe it. And it is worhtless trying.
But I'm happy reading my book.
And sometimes I think of this paradox: you can offer a book
to one thousand readers, and you will end with one thousand
books.
But nobody understands. That's why I live with the whores.
================================================================================
Note 128.77 SCENES 77 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 4 lines 18-APR-1989 06:49
-< Promises >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Strong and cold winds I do not fear,
but strong and cool faces,
dead hands in my hand.
================================================================================
Note 128.78 SCENES 78 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 21 lines 18-APR-1989 06:49
-< Promises >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I could walk a whole lifetime, if you promise me I will reach
to a friendly fire where I will meet friendly people with
a nice conversation.
I could carry the burden of oldness in my back, provided
you promise me I could reach to a blue lake, where I will
meet my friends, where I could sit down and look at the sun
with happiness, with trust.
I could love my enemies, with just your promising that
they will shake my friendly hand at dawn, under a silver
heaven, by a purple river.
But here I am, the fire is fading away and coldness embraces
me, the lake is dry and the sun is disappearing behing black
clouds. And my enemies are hidden in the dark, ready to touch
my lips with their hands all covered with blood.
No silver heaven, no purple river. But I need no promises:
still, I need even your lies, for they have took me this far...
================================================================================
Note 128.79 SCENES 79 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 2 lines 18-APR-1989 12:34
-< Flags >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Every flag has its deads and murderers.
================================================================================
Note 128.80 SCENES 80 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 34 lines 18-APR-1989 12:35
-< Look inside you! >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Carthago was never destroyed. Perhaps someone wrote that lie
in an old book. Perhaps it was a Roman soldier, no doubt.
But he was a fanatic, a soldier tired of seeing horror and
war.
In fact, Rome never touched Carthago. Escipion never
existed. Carthago was a magic city, by the shore of the
Mediterranean, full of lively people, many of them traders,
others sailors, and kids. Many kids in her streets.
Of course, Anibal knew his fate. Carthago delenda est...
That way, he devised a trick: he covered the city with a
silver cloud. And nobody could see the city.
That the Roman destroyed Carthago is a known fact; that they
killed men and women, children and animals, everybody knows
it. That the river by the city turned red with the blood of
the defenders, that's also true. And Carthago disappeared in
the dust. Every windy day of a wintry dawn, tuaregs say they
can see a magic city emerging from the depths of the desert.
A marble city, full of kids... kids running in her
streets... kids smiling at you... with the Sun in their
faces...
Every man has inside a Carthago. But it takes a long, long
time discovering her. And when you at last do it...
... there he is: your beloved Roman
reality crying like a mad:
CARTHAGO DELENDA EST!!
================================================================================
Note 128.81 SCENES 81 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 11 lines 18-APR-1989 12:40
-< Mitra >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They have changed the guards at the Archeological Museum.
It is the third guard being killed in three months.
It takes me a lot of suffering confessing, that I wait
for the night to come, get out of my Etruscan tomb,
approach the sleeping man... and take him by the hand
with me.
It's a crime. I know. But Mitra likes it. Me, too...
================================================================================
Note 128.82 SCENES 82 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 22 lines 19-APR-1989 11:07
-< The question >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This time you've got no reasons. That means you cannot
argue, for you lack arguments.
But the problem is more serious even. This time your whole
system of beliefs has turned into dust, and the wind of
logic blows spreading it to the air.
What's more: you used every resource at hand, every
theory, each thesis, every thorough analysis. But you've
lost. You are no more right. Instead, you are definately
wrong, absolutely wrong.
And you run the risk to be called 'a lier'.
The simple fact that you have provided no data, no
sounded information, makes of your exposition pure
and empty ideology.
We simply asked you who you are.
... and you started stuttering...
================================================================================
Note 128.83 SCENES 83 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 8 lines 19-APR-1989 11:09
-< A present for you... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Press RETURN to continue...
WHY THE HELL DID YOU OBEY?????
================================================================================
Note 128.84 SCENES 84 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 4 lines 19-APR-1989 11:13
-< Statement #1 >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Every man has a woman inside.
Otherwise, being sensible and reasonable would be impossible.
================================================================================
Note 128.85 SCENES 85 of 89
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 9 lines 19-APR-1989 11:18
-< Lesson number 1 >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My name is pronounced the following way:
Get a grape into your mouth. Round your lips,
roll an 'r' and utter a 'u'.
Then, suddenly, put your lips together and...
Say, did the grape fall?
================================================================================
Note 128.86 SCENES 86 of 89
ISRAEL::RUBEN 13 lines 20-APR-1989 08:52
-< Store departments >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It is hot in the store departments. Sales, and a lot of people
going here and there, looking for a shirt, shoes, books, or
a lipstick.
But it is so hot! So many people!
And I start melting myself into water, as I walk confused, as I'm
pushed by the crowd.It's so hot, so terribly hot... and I can't
stand it no more... my head's away, everything's so far, that I
finally become a pool of water on the floor...
Neon lights fading away, and a little lovely girl.. steps on me.
Like a little pool on the floor everyone can step on.
================================================================================
Note 128.87 SCENES 87 of 89
ISRAEL::RUBEN 5 lines 20-APR-1989 09:46
-< Persuassion >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm the one you are looking for, the one you need. I'm the
only one capable and able for this position. And if you lend me
a second of your time, we will conclude that you are not the one
we are looking for, the only one capable and able to sit on that
chair, the one directing this interview.
================================================================================
Note 128.88 SCENES 88 of 89
ISRAEL::RUBEN 5 lines 20-APR-1989 11:51
-< Pompeia >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The only thing left after the destruction of Pompeia,
was a ring, wishing limitless happiness to the owner.
But volcanoes know nothing on promises written on golden
rings...
================================================================================
Note 128.89 SCENES 89 of 89
ISRAEL::RUBEN 5 lines 20-APR-1989 12:12
-< Or... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... or perhaps I'm wrong, and the volcano
knew of the existence of that golden ring...
and made its terrible job properly, to give the
girl her limitless happiness...
7 What is leadership?
================================================================================
Note 131.0 What is leadership? 6 replies
HPSCAD::DDOUCETTE "The Practical Technocrat" 2 lines 26-SEP-1988 17:22
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I take a position that I feel is right, I ask people to follow me. Is that
leadership? What does it take to be a good leader? A good follower??
================================================================================
Note 131.1 What is leadership? 1 of 6
GEARHD::LOUGH "be-yond the silver rainbow..." 4 lines 26-SEP-1988 22:39
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hey man, don't follow me. I'm lost too...
- wandering terminal jockey
================================================================================
Note 131.2 What is leadership? 2 of 6
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 10 lines 27-SEP-1988 11:44
-< Anarchy prevails, despite SSAD! >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The one who commands, who controls, who communicates and have the
intelligence enough to do it 'properly', is called a leader.
When he gathers a couple of followers, who freely agree in being
commanded, controlled and communicated, it is said the leader exerts
leadership.
But, fortunately for me, ANARCHY PREVAILS!
Rub�n.
================================================================================
Note 131.3 What is leadership? 3 of 6
LEDS::BATES 12 lines 27-SEP-1988 23:05
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The one who would be leader strikes a bargain with those who would
follow - believe in me, and I will give you something to believe
about yourselves.
The extent of the leader's success is dependent on how much the
followers believe in the purpose/identity they've been given.
Even anarchists have a god of chaos who helps to define them, don't
they?
================================================================================
Note 131.4 What is leadership? 4 of 6
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 1 line 28-SEP-1988 03:56
-< Yes, we DO >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yes, we DO have gods, too. But they come to us, no need searching.
================================================================================
Note 131.5 What is leadership? 5 of 6
HPSCAD::DDOUCETTE "The Practical Technocrat" 23 lines 28-SEP-1988 10:49
-< Any decision is a sign of leadership >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I suppose people go out in search of leadership...
I remember reading in some science fiction story about how the President of
a country was drafted into service. He entered the oval office kicking and
screaming and you know what? He made a damn good President.
I look back at some old projects, some old groups I was involved in like
NUTS (Northeastern University Tactical Society), and even this notes file.
It seemed that wherever you had a group of people with a common goal, one
person would be put into the position of responsibility for the
coordination of people --the position of leadership. Sometimes it's like a
vaccuum, sucking the nearest person to fill the void. Other times people
volunteer for the task. Usually once one person fits into place an
anti-leader appears who is in constant conflict with the leader. Sometime
the anti-leader is a person, othertimes its a vision. Sometimes it's even
the leader himself.
Ed was leading this cabin by setting the pace for others to follow. Now
who is going to set the pace, define the flow. If no one does, then the
cabin may need some serious dusting in a couple more months...
Dave
================================================================================
Note 131.6 What is leadership? 6 of 6
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I will be your cancer!" 21 lines 28-SEP-1988 12:59
-< My view >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I mostry agree with Dave, although I wanted to express that
moderating a conference for 'tactical' and burocratic reasons is
one thing, and moderating and leading just for the sake of it is
just another.
I'm not a leader, as far as described in those marvellous
management training courses. I agree on that basis on the need of
having a coordinator, as Dave put it.
The Cabin, it's my opinion, is not 'headcut' by the time being.
Ed's gone. But there are people out there (in here, in the Cabin)
quite capable to coordinate and keep the cabin tidy.
The only leader I forsee is that one with a bit of we all. That
leader, no doubt, is the Cabin itself.
Your beloved Cabin's correspondent in Madrid,
Rub�n.
8 Faceless face of a coin
================================================================================
Note 135.0 Faceless face of a coin 15 replies
VALLE::RUBEN 10 lines 22-NOV-1988 08:56
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No, I'm not disappointed after all these years. I always wanted
to be like you are, having the luck you have, being as strong as
you are, simply being like you are.
You told me life was a coin with two faces. One is written with
everything I wanted to be, that's why it shows your clear eyes
looking at me. The other one is what I really am:
thank you for showing me... the faceless face of a coin.
================================================================================
Note 135.1 Faceless face of a coin 1 of 15
MDRLEG::RUBEN "If I die, I shall not weep" 15 lines 23-NOV-1988 10:10
-< About me >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I always wanted to tell you about me: but never gave me a chance.
As letters are basically monologues nobody can interrupt, I
will start now.
My empty generation was built on the dreams of our parents.
Security was viewed as basic need, as unemployment knocked
every door.
War was far, but social disturbances and insecurity was
a daily issue on press. They were all apolitical, and indifference
was a widespread currency.
And we inherited the moral of the crippled.
================================================================================
Note 135.2 Faceless face of a coin 2 of 15
MDRLEG::RUBEN "If I die, I shall not weep" 18 lines 23-NOV-1988 10:11
-< Goin' movies >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Going movies, drinking in a pub, and dating in the age of AIDS
was the cycle repeating itself weekend after weekend. Getting
a flat was a deed deserving an Old Icelandic Sagga... traffic
jams were different.
Only 5 years ago, they were a long tail of cars slowly moving.
Today, they are a long tail of cars... not moving at all.
Communication became an art: TV was the hot issue, and if you missed
a night in front of the TV, you automatically became an illiterate.
Jobs were irrational: hi-tech companies building robots to aid
the car manufacturing companies to increase car production to
increase traffic jams to increase stress to increase... and so on.
================================================================================
Note 135.3 Faceless face of a coin 3 of 15
MDRLEG::RUBEN "If I die, I shall not weep" 11 lines 23-NOV-1988 10:12
-< Values were strange >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Values were strange: a good job, a good salary, a good flat,
a good kid (only one, obviously), a good master, a goodlooking
wife, health, an 8-digit bank account, and a good car.
The ability to communicate on quality terms was replaced by the
ability to communicate your acquisition capability in terms of
material goods. Sex was no more considered a choice of quality
either: quantitative measures were placed higher, instead.
================================================================================
Note 135.4 Faceless face of a coin 4 of 15
MDRLEG::RUBEN "If I die, I shall not weep" 15 lines 23-NOV-1988 10:13
-< A wonderful BMW >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And we all met every morning in our jobs and in the full roads,
or in the queue of a cinema, or queuing in front of a cash dispenser,
or in the hypermarket in the evenings... just to return home, completely
exhausted, to sit down in front of the TV... looking at the ads.
Nobody knew how the hell Stravinsky sounded, but we all were
very good memorising the ads. Books were replaced by the cultural
section of the newspapers... and sports were a mix of advertising,
xenophobic education, and a kind of 'all you wanted to know
about amphetamines' course. Yes, we are were happy... if only we
could own that flat over there... or earn more than our neighbor...
or just drive a wonderful BMW!!!
================================================================================
Note 135.5 Faceless face of a coin 5 of 15
MDRLEG::RUBEN "If I die, I shall not weep" 9 lines 23-NOV-1988 10:15
-< Wearing a girl >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marriage was a tradition to be preserved. You wanted to 'wear'
a girl, and that's all.
Religion was completely acritic: you didn't discover God: God
came to you thru the screen of your TV... Oh, yes! we all loved
whales!!!
================================================================================
Note 135.6 Faceless face of a coin 6 of 15
MDRLEG::RUBEN "If I die, I shall not weep" 4 lines 23-NOV-1988 10:19
-< Statues an syringes >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And, yet, we were like the statues of the biggest square of our
dirty town: completely inexpressive, for past glories meant nothing
to the youngsters down the podium of the statue, with a syringe
in their arms... and dark eyes staring at the spits on the floor...
================================================================================
Note 135.7 Faceless face of a coin 7 of 15
MDRLEG::RUBEN "If I die, I shall not weep" 25 lines 24-NOV-1988 11:35
-< Tell me >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tell me.
Is life more peaceful for you now that you have
destroyed all the letters I wrote you?
Perhaps you were right when you told me to progress means
neglecting the starting point, time and again. The way you broke
everything started was one more proof of your strength.
You wanted me like a worm in the peak of a sparrow. Protection
was your weakness: you took a rose in your hand, closed it to
keep it with you for ever... ran home with it, and when you
opened your hand, the rose, crumpled up, appeared in your hand...
No, protection was not your strength. And yet, you kept telling
me I needed protection. Plans we made, as I remember, and plans
never came to reality, for your reality was beyond the one around
we both.
It took you a lot of time to tell me you believed in me. How wish
I could believe someone!!
================================================================================
Note 135.8 Faceless face of a coin 8 of 15
MDRLEG::RUBEN "If I die, I shall not weep" 11 lines 24-NOV-1988 11:36
-< Dead rose >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Particularly ridiculous. That was what you said when you first
realized I was leaving you.
'You are not talking seriously. You need me, even beyond your
ridiculous statement that you are leaving'. Yes, you always
answered like that. And took me by the hand, in silence.
Already forgot the dead rose in your hand?
================================================================================
Note 135.9 Faceless face of a coin 9 of 15
MDRLEG::RUBEN "If I die, I shall not weep" 14 lines 24-NOV-1988 11:36
-< Hopes >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Slowly pressing my eyes with your fingers, whispering promises at
my ear, they sounded so real!
But they weren't, or is it that I missed the picture somewhere in
the middle of our fight? Or perhaps it was that I only heard what
I wanted to hear, as you always complained.
Sometimes our hopes get into our ears and corrupt the language at
their will. It happens everyday, everytime we have a dream: we
paint our dreams with the palette we most love and when we run
out of colors, we always have the chance to wake up... with tears
in our eyes...
================================================================================
Note 135.10 Faceless face of a coin 10 of 15
MDRLEG::RUBEN "If I die, I shall not weep" 14 lines 24-NOV-1988 11:45
-< Your paradise >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How long is 'there'?
I remember your last smile, under your red umbrella, with me
trying to convince you... that the distance between we both...
was purely meaningless.
Except when you asked what the hell was I doing *there* under
the rain?. Say, never before a word hurt me like that.
Still I have a scar in my heart, and everyone knows 'there' means
'so far away' for me. Killing me was your entertainment. Me
dying was your paradise!
================================================================================
Note 135.11 Faceless face of a coin 11 of 15
MDRLEG::RUBEN "If I die, I shall not weep" 3 lines 24-NOV-1988 11:51
-< Scared >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I do not know a single person that, after realizing
he is happy, doesn't feel scared of life.
================================================================================
Note 135.12 Faceless face of a coin 12 of 15
MDRLEG::RUBEN "If I die, I shall not weep" 24 lines 28-NOV-1988 09:10
-< The Art of lieing >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Then, I understood.
Truths are told in whispers, as we are all afraid of telling the
truth.
Lies, on the other hand, are more difficult to master. You start
by pressing your finger with the door, try to smile, and say
firmly "Oh, it's wonderful!!". Fist time you simple cry and say
dirty words... second time is easier, for you already control
hurt... fifth time, you already know how to lie.
Later, you face the most stupid guy in the office, approach him
and say "Hey, Tom, how's life going?". If you can even smile,
that's a real lie.
Second proof: when you are with her in bed... look at her eyes,
and say "How wonderful you are!" and if you manage even to kiss
her... you already mastered the art of lieing.
That's why, love, when you kept telling me how much you loved me
I was always looking at the door. And the door smiled at me.
Then, I understood.
================================================================================
Note 135.13 Faceless face of a coin 13 of 15
MDRLEG::RUBEN "If I die, I shall not weep" 14 lines 28-NOV-1988 09:17
-< Didn't miss you >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear,
I didn't miss you. I tried to convince myself being far away
a couple of days would settle my indecision. And it did: I
didn't miss you.
I walked alone thru Monaco's streets. Went late in the night
into Montecarlo's sealight, near the harbour, and then came back
to the hotel. Entered into the telephone booth, dialed home number
and listened to your sweet voice...
Sorry, once again: I didn't miss you.
================================================================================
Note 135.14 Faceless face of a coin 14 of 15
INCLAN::RUBEN "Faceless face of a coin" 25 lines 28-NOV-1988 14:59
-< Fasten >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Contempt is even the sweeter feeling I can get out from you.
The reason is obvious: you criticize my ability to fight
against everything I consider unfair, just because fighting
makes you feel contempt...
Childhood is over. This was your main theme when I tried to
explain to you my anxieties. If I cried 'There is no
different mornings, but different suns over the sky!' you just
yawned.
Stop dreaming. This was your main advise when I was feeling
down. I I asked for help you just kept telling me I was grown
enough to fight by my own.
Adapt yourself to this life. This was your charge after the trial.
... and then I placed my universe inside my pocket, got cool,
spoke a couple of words a day... and started to keep pace with
you: but everybody knows children soon get bored marching like
soldiers...
that's why they are kept in prams, tightly fasten.
================================================================================
Note 135.15 Faceless face of a coin 15 of 15
MDRLEG::RUBEN "If I die, I shall not weep" 45 lines 29-NOV-1988 09:49
-< Dad's old >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Love,
So dad, suddenly, became old. Time passes, but young people
never realize.
Dad, definately, was old. Where do we keep him? At home?
What's the use of dad, now that he is an old man? How can
I get on well and live my life living with an old person?
No. If dad's old, is not my fault. But, on the other hand,
I cannot leave him alone. Assylum? Yes, that could be a
great idea... parking dad... with other old men... and
waiting for his death. But that's horrible. I can't do that.
So, what do I do with my dad? He was quite supportive with
me, and always understood my wishes and dreams... but that
was yesterday, when he was strong enough to take me in his
arms. This photograph shows dad at the zoo with me... God,
am I smiling? This photograph is quite old... that's why dad
is also old. He's got his retirement: fifty five years
working... to become old.
I need to talk to somebody, what do the others do with their dads
once they grow older, and finally become old?
Dad's old. That's all.
And if he dies, did I get the right to weep bitterly? Why weeping
when I was so cold assuming he is simply old? Why not assuming
also that he is to die someday? But death scares me, my own death!
No. I can set him aside. After all, he is still 'dad'. But, why
is he looking at me sadly? Dad, did I ever hurt you? did I ever
stop talking to you? You never told me, why the hell are you old???
There he goes: walking, staring at the floor, with grey clouds
over his silver head, mumbling something, whispering with no teeth,
sunk eyes, with his dry lips... dad is old.
... and the only feeling in my heart, is the powerless cry
of a young boy... looking thru the window how the frost
covers my car... and the heart of my dad.
9 STAINLESS STEEL
================================================================================
Note 136.0 STAINLESS STEEL 11 replies
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 5 lines 20-DEC-1988 05:46
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The last vision he got to see was a stupid sentence
written on the blade of his knife... "Stainless steel".
And then, he closed his eyes.
================================================================================
Note 136.1 STAINLESS STEEL 1 of 11
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 5 lines 20-DEC-1988 05:48
-< Have a barrel of fun! >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"This is a crazy world" he thought while reading one of those
ads in the street. The picture of a smiling kid and a sentence:
'Have a barrel of fun'. That was everything he needed to
feel a slight hurt in his stomach.
================================================================================
Note 136.2 STAINLESS STEEL 2 of 11
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 9 lines 20-DEC-1988 05:50
-< A neon light ad called 'moon' >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He walked wandering thru the streets, slowly moving a foot after
the other, paying attetion only to the ads around him.
'Coke is it!' cried a neon light. But he didn't feel impressed.
"Coke is it..." he repeated to himself. "Everything it has gained
its existence just because it brights... the sun is it, the moon
is it... even now I confuse the moon with a neon light ad...
the moon is it..."
================================================================================
Note 136.3 STAINLESS STEEL 3 of 11
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 9 lines 20-DEC-1988 05:53
-< Take a bus to nowhere >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He stopped in front of a bus stop. The cold rain falling like
a curtain of ice.
He read another ad: 'Metro Bus takes you a step further'.
He didn't understand. The bus came, full of faceless people,
full of faces with no eyes... with no life behind the eyes.
================================================================================
Note 136.4 STAINLESS STEEL 4 of 11
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 10 lines 20-DEC-1988 05:57
-< Limited dream capability >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I need vital spaces" he said. "I need air to breath, space
to run freely, time to do what I always wanted to do... I need
oceans and deserts, this city is gonna kill me".
"I must accept the place to where I was thrown, the people
whom I am to live with, the language I must speak. Everything has
been decided regardless of my opinion. Nobody asked me. I was
born and they told me what they expect from me: being quiet till
I finally die..."
================================================================================
Note 136.5 STAINLESS STEEL 5 of 11
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 7 lines 20-DEC-1988 06:02
-< Naming as a power >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He reached to a cemetery. Walked thru the tombs and crosses and
stopped in front of a grey one, covered with grass.
"Thank you for giving me the power to name things, for naming
the world means owning the world... but I am not so stupid as not
realizing that everything that can be owned... can be stolen".
================================================================================
Note 136.6 STAINLESS STEEL 6 of 11
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 7 lines 20-DEC-1988 06:05
-< An old friend >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Looking at the tomb, he soon realized he was filling sick, felt
his tongue like a hard stone inside his mouth, then he tasted
something really bitter moving under his teeth... and spitted
down a horrible blackbeetle...
"Jeez! What the hell is happening to me?" he said terrified.
================================================================================
Note 136.7 STAINLESS STEEL 7 of 11
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 14 lines 20-DEC-1988 06:07
-< ... called Dellirium Tremens >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"My hands can play the violin, but they can also shoot a gun.
My hands can pick up a rose, but they can also strangle the
thin neck of a kid..." he thought sitting beside a rusted
slide.
Then, he saw a crippled kid with the shoes full of mud, slowling
creeping up the slide. As he crept, he felt too much tired, falling
time and again without even touching the slide.
"Oh dear!" he thought standing up and suddenly approaching the kid.
When he arrived to the kid, his hand took a cold corpse completely stiff.
Delirium tremens, he thought, was an old friend.
================================================================================
Note 136.8 STAINLESS STEEL 8 of 11
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 4 lines 20-DEC-1988 06:10
-< Sadness of God >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I'm not the only man on Earth not believing in God. And that
really doesn't worry Him... but God... how much I wish I could
believe someone!"
================================================================================
Note 136.9 STAINLESS STEEL 9 of 11
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 7 lines 20-DEC-1988 06:13
-< Thirty four years ago >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Looking thru the bars of a gate, he got to see the kids playing
in the yard of the school... and he remembered that day in which
he was one of those kids... sitting with the back against a wall...
looking to the gate... from where a man was looking at him...
... thirty four years ago...
================================================================================
Note 136.10 STAINLESS STEEL 10 of 11
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 10 lines 20-DEC-1988 06:15
-< Example 22 >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Example 22:
Everything that moves, suffers.
That's why he was longing for that endless quiteness called 'death'
by those condemned to move forever.
"I'm the endless messenger" he said. And a passing old woman looked
at him, smiling.
================================================================================
Note 136.11 STAINLESS STEEL 11 of 11
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 14 lines 20-DEC-1988 06:16
-< Xtmas time >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Christmas time. Everybody making and additional effort trying to
remember whom to send a postcard... after 365 days...
Christmas time: the ritual repeat itself each year, as if nothing
has really happened, as if we all were really happy... or perhaps
I'm wrong and every Christmas is a new one... but is just we the
ones growing older.
Christmas time. How many Christmas does a man last? How many
Christmas does a war take to end? And, over all, how many Christmas
do we still need to realize everything is useless? Fifty four?
Seventy seven? Or just one, when we were recriminated for not having
sent a postcard to that friend whose address we forgot?
10 Red Smoke
================================================================================
Note 138.0 Red Smoke 56 replies
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 16 lines 27-DEC-1988 04:39
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I like travelling around the world.
I like meeting different people in different places.
And when the sun sets in the steppes, a red smoke covers the
horizon, some birds cross the red sky... and my Lakota friends
look at me offering an eagle's feather:
"Your hair is also red,
your heart is blue,
you have at last killed your worst enemy:
the enemy in you,
your beloved selfishness"
And we dance around the fire.
================================================================================
Note 138.1 Red Smoke 1 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 46 lines 27-DEC-1988 04:39
-< Last day of summer >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The seascape the last day of summer. Thin clouds like shreds
against an azur sky. The murmur of the waves kindly kissing the
shore. The blue sea calmly moving invites him to swim. "How much
I wish this summer never ends!" he thinks.
Step after step, he embraces the fresh air and goes into the sea,
the waters around him, and he swings over the waves, with his
back against the surface, gliding in dreams with his eyes closed
as the foam covers his hair.
He moves freely and cannot help smiling, then laughing opening
his eyes to the vast sky... a simple spot between the ocean and
the clouds... the coast disappears as a thin line in the tangram
horizon.
Silver fishes pass by, and he can even touch them with his
extended arms. "God! And if she doesn't come?" he mumbles to the
warm breeze. He has been waiting for her a long time. She said
she will meet him in the beach to have the last summer bath
together. "And if she doesn't come?" repeats to himself.
He swims with no fixed direction, and the water becomes colder.
But he likes it: the brave sea embraces him, and the waves get
bigger and bigger.
"And if she doesn't come?" still floating in his mind like the
black clouds filling the sky. The coast has already disappeared,
and the sun sunk behind the horizon. As the night falls over the
golden endless ocean, he seems to vanish with it... fading
away... fighting against the waves that now seem to emerge like a
challenging fist. And he is a toy in the hands of the sea...
"And if she doesn't come?" he asks to a flying seagull that looks
at him with a cold frozen eye. He desperately tries to swim back
to the shore, but he is completely lost, in the middle of a rough
ocean playing the last string of a nacreous harp called 'life'...
And the swimmer becomes the foam, the gliding wave... the sea
itself... and the murmur of a doubt falls into the depths...
"My God! And if she doesn't come?"
================================================================================
Note 138.2 Red Smoke 2 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 128 lines 27-DEC-1988 04:40
-< Tchadd >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You may think living in Tchadd is hard. Sitting comfortably in
front of your TV, surrounded by all kind of modern life gadgets,
you will hardly imagine that there is even life in this part of
Africa.
Your indifference to our problems do not hurt us at all, for this
land is so vast, so limitless, that we find difficult thinking of
any other city beyond the lake, or further beyond the mountains.
In fact, we know nothing about our western neighbors, or even
about the village next door. They speak a different dialect that
sounds funny to our ears. How could we ever imagine that there
are villages beyond the lake?
A long time ago, when the father of my grandfather lived, the
lake was our main reference about distances. Thus, the next
village was beside the lake, the western villages were all a day-
walk from the lake, and the lands of the North were all beyond
the mountains that could be seen from the lake. But the lake got
dried. Everybody knows that, although the kids have always seen a
dry lake and they do not believe there was water never in the
past.
I'm twenty years old now, so I know there was water. Somebody
told me, but I never saw it.
Life changed too much when the lake got dried. Except for my
village, there are no more inhabitants in the surroundings. There
was a war. Some say the rebels were already fighting when the
moon could reflect her face on the surface of the lake, but there
are others, the majority, that state the rebels appeared after
the lake got dried. In any case I have always listened shots in
the distance since I was a child. Mom says it is dangerous going
to the place where the lake was. I remember the cows. There were
many cows around my house, but the lack of water killed them all
and we only have two cows. We use them to grow some plants, but
Dad says it is useless growing anything in a land where there is
no water. And maybe he is right. I cannot say for sure, for I
have never seen a plant over here.
I remember, when I was young, that our village was visited by
white men with ridiculous dresses. We called them 'yebbe', for
they all weared a red cross in their clothes. Nobody knew what
that cross meant, but Mom says they helped our grandfather
bringing water and they even gave him away a cow. These memories
are lost in my mind. I do not like remembering the yebbe; we kids
were scared of them for they carried us to a camp with lots of
tents and strange machines. One of them shot me in the arm and
spent a whole day looking my body, weighting me, and giving me
bitter liquids to drink. Mom embraced me as I was crying and
weeping all the time.
I do not know why, but the yebbe went short after the first
rebels appeared. They say the rebels kill kids and take away our
women. I have only seen a rebel once in my life. It was a dawn.
We were sleeping in our dry-mud house. From my position I could
see the blue sky thru the hole in the roof. Grandda did the hole
because he thought a certain dawn it could rain, and if the god
of the rain Ngabi noticed we were sleeping, he could stop the
rain immediatly. That's why grandda did the hole in the roof, so
that we could wake up when the water fell on our faces.
But that dawn I was looking at the sky trying not to fall asleep
should the rain came. Instead, I saw a black crow crossing the
sky. "Dad, Mom, Dido!! There's a crow in the sky!! There's a crow
in the sky!!" I cried. We all dislike crows, for they mean a cow
has died during the night. And if we loose one of our cows, Dad
says we will be forced to migrate beyond the lake.
My father punched me in the face "Do not say that, Mimbo!!". But
then he looked thru the window and saw the crow. Everybody went
out running toward the pond near the house, where we leave the
cows every night. "Run dad! Run Dido!". My sister Dido is a good
runner, she runs faster than anyone else in our village.
Our neighbors were running, too, for everybody leave the cows in
the pond. From the distant I could see Dido dancing, and Dad, and
all the men and women there were dancing too. I was laughing
beside Mom. But Mom was crying.
I stopped laughing and stared at Mom. She only embraced me firmly
and told me to go into the house. "Wasps!! Wasps!!" she cried.
And soon I understood. One of those plagues of black wasps was
attacking our cows, and Dad, and Dido.
Dido was the first to arrive home. She was completely bitten, in
all parts of her body. Blood was falling along her arms and she
was 'dancing' and jumping on a pool of blood. Poor Dido! She was
suffering terribly. "Wasps, Mom, big wasps in the pond!!".
After a while, all the village gathered around the totem and the
old men were counting the dead cows, trying to guess whom they
belonged to. The men, and Dad, were all shouting each other
claiming that everybody else's cows were dead, except their own.
Taking advantage of the confusion, I dared going alone to the
pond for I wanted to see one of those wasps Dido told me. As I
approached the pond, I remember I was trembling... I saw a dead
cow, full of blood, and the flies, and the crows bitting the eyes
and the tongue of the cow. I was watching hidden behind a rock...
and, suddenly, I was pushed face towards the stones. I tried to
move but someone was pressing my back. I thought it was Dad,
angry because of my curiosity. "Dad!! Dad!! I was just
looking!!". When I turned back, I saw a man wearing a green hat
and a gun. He told me something in the funny dialect of the
western villages. As I didn't understand, he got his gun inside
my mouth shouting and pointing at the houses.
I ran away as fast as Dido and got into the house, trembling. I
never told about this to nobody. With the time, I kept this as a
secret. It was the first and the last time I have seen a rebel.
Today, a long long time after, I lye in one of these tents. The
yebbe returned and took me here. My grandfather died when a snake
bitted him near the pond. Our cows also died an afternoon, under
a hot sun. Dido married and went out of the village. Dad died
with feber when I was eighteen.
The nurse taking care of me comes from a far land, well beyond
the dried lake. She is a yebbe. She looks at me with sorrow and
keeps giving me strange liquids to drink. Mom says people in
other lands send money to bring the rain home. But I know this is
just the wish of a crazy old woman.
Otherwise, how could those people know anything about us here in
Tchadd, when they cannot even imagine our lake, the rebels, Dido,
and the wasps??
================================================================================
Note 138.3 Red Smoke 3 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 25 lines 27-DEC-1988 05:13
-< Under he sun of the desert >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There he goes, creeping with the belly against the stones. His bow
at his back, looking with a penetrating look at the wolf. He is young,
moves quickly, runs fastly, climbs up to a tree, then again...the belly
against the stones.
There he is, the wolf, taking care of her kids, looking around once
and again, always watching to save the lifes of her kids from the
arrows of the hunter.
He sees the steps on the sand. The wolf is near. He can feel it.
Takes the bow, softly puts an arrow in it, and draws the deadly toy.
He loves the wolf, for he is a solitary wolf himself.
The sun shines fire. The arrow crosses the blue sky... and hits
mother wolf, while the cubs look at their mother. It is striking
how you can kill a family by simply killing the mother... and no
wonder, thus, that the warrior feels sad.
Both universes meet each other under the red sun of the desert:
the glazed eyes of the wolf... the burnt pupil of the man...
================================================================================
Note 138.4 Red Smoke 4 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 22 lines 30-DEC-1988 05:22
-< The long walk >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I know there are many moons" said the kid. But the father,
taking him by the hand, kept walking, and walking.
"See, first appears a full moon, like a big disk in the sky.
Immediatly after, little mice start nibbling the moon from right
to left, till they finally eat it all. And again, it appears
a new moon and the mice, and the nibbling, and..."
But the father kept moving, paying no attention to the
kid. They were walking over cold stones, and the wind
was entangling the kid's hair. But he didn't care.
"And I know also, that the river is a tear coming from
the mountains. Every summer the mountain gets happy and
stop crying, that's why the river gets narrower, nearly
disappearing in the desert..."
The father stopped, watching the valley, and pressed the hand
of the kid to relax again, slowly, inattentively.
================================================================================
Note 138.5 Red Smoke 5 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 15 lines 30-DEC-1988 05:24
-< Farewell >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Finally, they reach to a desert. The man turned back to his son
and said: "Here I loose you. From now on you will continue alone.
Great dangers you will face there. The sun will be your ally,
but it will demand something on you. The nights will be cold,
and the jackal will watch you waiting for you to relax so that
it can do its job... The crows will escort you all the way,
patiently waiting for you to feel weak till you cannot move a single
hand. That's the desert"
The kid listened at his father in silence. He suddenly realized
he has been chosen. He said no word. Picked the bow up of his father's
hands, and started to walk...
================================================================================
Note 138.6 Red Smoke 6 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 12 lines 30-DEC-1988 05:25
-< Welcome >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After walking for two days, he began to feel thirsty. "I must find
some water... otherwise..." he thought.
He was fainting, getting weaker as the time passed. He was bumping,
falling down, and then getting up again... to fall once more on the
burning sand. Finally, he couldn't get up, not even move his lips.
And that was the first time he died.
================================================================================
Note 138.7 Red Smoke 7 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 16 lines 30-DEC-1988 05:26
-< The door >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A voice woke him up.
"What the hell are you doing lying on the sand?" asked a voice.
"He seems to be died" said another one.
He opened his eyes, still unable to see anything... for the brightness
of the day was so intense.
"Hey! He's moving!" said again the voice.
Slowly, he recovered from his lethargy, raised his eyes and saw a big
door standing just in front of him.
================================================================================
Note 138.8 Red Smoke 8 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 37 lines 30-DEC-1988 05:27
-< Burst of laughters >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hey! Those inside! Open the door! I need help! Water!" he cried surprised
of the strength of his voice.
But nothing happened. He cried again:
"Can you hear me? I need help!!". A burst of laughters filled his ears.
"Haaa!! The boy needs help!!!! Hahaaaa!" said a voice behind the door.
"This is funny, really funny!! Hahaaa!" said another one with cutting
words.
He couldn't believe it. There was a big glowing door in front of him. He
was desperated, and the only help he got was a burst of laughters.
"Please!" he begged, "open the door, I'm about to die and-" but he
couldn't end his explanation, for a voice interrupted him sharply.
"Go hell, will you?"
"But I need-"
"You need, he needs, everybody needs something. Everybody feels the
right to be helped. This is disgusting!!!" claimed the voice after
the door.
"And this guy is really bad-mannered!" added another voice.
"Yes", continued the first voice, "he even didn't knock at our door;
he just keep whimpering with that stupid voice. Haaahaa!!"
"Oh, my!" he thought. "In all the desert there are no more cruel
people than these men behind the door... and I'm to keep here
listening how the laugh at me".
================================================================================
Note 138.9 Red Smoke 9 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 16 lines 30-DEC-1988 05:28
-< Passing thru the keyhole >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Okay" said he, "I will knock a your door, see?" and he started
knocking at the door "See? It's me knocking. Will you please
open the door now?".
After a while, a familiar voice answered:
"Keep knocking, guy! Maybe some day we decide to open the door, Haaa!"
"Or perhaps you could try digging a tunnel under the door!! Hahaha!"
and a third voice added, still laughing "Yes, or you could try
passing thru the keyhole, you jerk!!"
And the laughing continued for a whole night...
================================================================================
Note 138.10 Red Smoke 10 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 21 lines 30-DEC-1988 05:29
-< The punishment for a chattingbox >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At dawn, someone from behind the door threw him a bottle full of
water. "Hey! Hey, boy, are you there?" said a new voice whispering.
He woke up immediatly. "Yes, yes!! I'm still here. Thanks a lot
for the bottle, you've saved my life!!!" he said, picking the bottle
up from the sand.
"Beware! My friends are quite cruel and if ever they knew I helped
you... they..." .
"Do not worry. I will never forget your help!" he said sipping
the water. "Jeeez!! You bastard!!! This water is full with salt!!!"
cried him vomiting down in the sand. "You've betrayed me!" he
shouted with anger.
"Haaahhaaa!!! This guy is really stupid!! Really na�ve!!!"
"Haaha! He's got to learn a lot if he wants to survive a couple
of days!!"
================================================================================
Note 138.11 Red Smoke 11 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 15 lines 30-DEC-1988 05:30
-< Three jackals >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That was too much for Wauki. He started to push the door, striking
with his hands, completely mad. "I will kill you!!! Will kill you all!"
"Hahhaaa! Stupid! If you want to get the water... why don't you
try to look behind the door? Just move around and you will see
what you find. Haaa!!".
He moved around. "My God! This was just a mere door standing on the
sand. There are no walls!!". He looked behind the door and found three
jackals laughing at him.
"At last!!! Welcome to the House of Mad!!" got to say one of them,
before they vanished in the air... the jackals, the bottle, and the door.
================================================================================
Note 138.12 Red Smoke 12 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 9 lines 30-DEC-1988 05:31
-< Weeping >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He was miserable, completely down, exhausted, humbled.
And under the burning sun, he wept, hopeless and lost, as it
was the custom in the desert.
And that was the first time he wept.
================================================================================
Note 138.13 Red Smoke 13 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 13 lines 30-DEC-1988 05:32
-< Talk with the eunuch >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He fell asleep and had a dream. He dreamt of an eunuch approaching
him. The eunuch was pulling a chain whose end was around the necks
of two women. The woman at the right was a beautiful one, with a white
face and two eyes resembling two big blue lakes. The one at the
left was an old one, with an ugly face, and one of her eyes was
missing. Instead, there was a black hole full of vomiting worms.
The beautiful woman was serious, perhaps angry. The other one
was smiling, showing a thin row of rotten teeth.
================================================================================
Note 138.14 Red Smoke 14 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 38 lines 30-DEC-1988 05:32
-< Dilemma >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Good morning, Sir" said the eunuch. "I have heard you are lost
and need water. Is that true?"
Wauki looked down at the eunuch. "Yes. That's true".
"I think we can enter into business, Sir" said the eunuch.
"What kind of business? I have nothing to pay, no money,
no cows, not even an arrow, or a ring, or an eagle's feather
to offer you, and even if I had anything, what would you be
offering?"
Th eunuch sat on the sand, crossed his arms on his leap, and said:
"I'm told you know nothing about love. In fact, they say you are
sterile, for no woman dares to go with you". Wauki looked surprised
and offended. It was true he has no woman yet, but he was only a
boy!
"I'm not married, that's true. But I never had the opportunity."
"Oh! I see. Okay, this is my deal: one of this women here can
give you water, the other one love. You choose one of them.
If you choose the one with no water, you simply allow me to stay here,
besides you, staring at you as you die...". Waoki was listening
carefully. The eunuch continued "But if you choose the one with
some water for you, you can survive, for I grant you the power
to get water everytime you need it, provided you make love to her,
each time you feel thirsty."
Waoki was thinking of the offering. He was clever enough to know
that he was to choose the ugly woman "Sure this eunuch wants to
have a good time with me" he thought.
And he looked at the women, trying to guess who was the one
with some water...
================================================================================
Note 138.15 Red Smoke 15 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 17 lines 30-DEC-1988 05:34
-< Rain >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After a while, the eunuch stood up, placed himself between the
women, and said smiling "Wanna try now?".
The beautiful woman smiled, too. It was the first time Waoki saw
her smiling, and he realized he has fell in love with her.
The ugly old woman, instead, stopped smiling and started fondling
her skinny breasts with lewdness. Waoki felt sick. That was
repulsive for him. And he pointing at the beautiful woman, he said:
"I choose that woman there".
And the sun disappeared behind dark clouds, as it started to rain.
================================================================================
Note 138.16 Red Smoke 16 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 14 lines 30-DEC-1988 05:35
-< Rememberings >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Waoki woke up with a deep feeling of anxiety invading his heart.
"All was a dream. A cruel dream, the dream of the one who is about
to die".
He rememebered his father, the moon, the days in which he went
hunting with his friends. "Every Lakota is like the red smoke of
the desert: fleeting and brief, but unseizable" he mumbled.
And he started to walk, staring at the sand, with no care of
what was in front of him.
================================================================================
Note 138.17 Red Smoke 17 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 48 lines 30-DEC-1988 05:36
-< Falling into the shaft >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Aaah!" he cried as he fell down a deep shaft. He was falling for
a long time, striking his body against the walls of the shaft,
feeling a sharp hurt in his arms, till he finally crushed against
the stones.
"Welcome to the shaft of the powerless!!!" cried a voice. He opened
his eyes, moving his head with difficulty. "What... is it...?" he
whimpered.
"Welcome to the shaft of the powerless!!!" repeated the voice, just
to add immediatly "You scatterbrain!!" .
Waoki got to see a thin man, in rags, with a stupid smile. As he could
guess, the man seemed to have suffered a lot, for deep scars appeared
in all along his body.
"Oh, no, no, do not look me that way, you will have time enough
to get your own scars yourself".
"I'm not going to get any scar. I'm Waoki, son of Waka�pi, warrior
of the allied people." said Waoki firmly and with a steady voice.
"Wheew! It sounds great! A warrior... in the deepest shaft of the
desert!!" said the man with irony. "And I guess you will wait
for two wings to grow at both sides of your torax to fly up and
escape, am I wrong, you scatterbrain?"
"Stop talking me like that!" shouted Waoki standing up with a challenging
attitude.
"Oh! the greatest warrior challenging a poor soul... how powerful
you are, Waoki, son of Waka�pi, warrior of the allied people!".
"Listen" said Waoki, "I do not feel like discussing. I want fell
down this shaft because I didn't take care of my steps. Is there
any possiblity to climb up?"
"Of course there is. I told you: wait for two wings to grow and-"
"Shut up!!" cried Waoki. "This stupid guy is not going to be of any
help. I will think of a solution alone" he thought.
And sat down, constantly keeping an eye on the man, while the
shadows invaded the shaft and everything got completely dark.
================================================================================
Note 138.18 Red Smoke 18 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 38 lines 4-JAN-1989 10:04
-< The last battle >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The dark lasted a long time. Then, little by little, glimmering
lights appeared in the dense luminous fog. When the fog disappeared,
Waoki was standing in the middle of a field, around of which there
were walls.
"Welcome to the last battle!" said a voice, and people began appearing
on top of the walls waving at Waoki with white handkerchiefs. They
were all crying enthusiastically.
Then, a man approached Waoki. "There are no rules to follow. You just
defend yourself if you do not want to be killed, and kill your enemy
as soon as the opportunity arises. Beware, for your enemy is as powerful
as you imagine. That's all."
Waoki didn't understand what was happening. "What's going on here? Am I
in the warpath?" asked nervously.
"Of course you are in the warpath. We all are in the warpath. Today
you've found your enemy, and it will be a great battle, probably
the battle of your life" said the man looking at Waoki. Then he
continued:
"In fact, Waoki, old friend, your enemy will be the Waoki you always
wanted to be. See, everybody in the desert has come to watch the battle.
Is a battle every man should have at least once in a life."
"Who's the enemy?" asked Waoki.
"Enemy? Who else can be your enemy other than yourself? What did you
expect? A warrior? An entire army? You fool! You always dreamt of
being the best warrior, the one moving the fastest, the most intrepid
and powerful, invincible. You had that dream night after night, remember?
And now, here you are!! The *real* Waoki fighting against the Waoki
you always dreamt of! The Waoki 'as is' against the Waoki you
wanted to be. Is that easy."
And the man disappeared in the dust under the cries of the crowd.
================================================================================
Note 138.19 Red Smoke 19 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 38 lines 4-JAN-1989 10:05
-< The last battle >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There he was. Waoki standing in the middle of the battlefield.
Thru the dust he got to see a figure moving. He watched him
carefully.
"Oh God! He is.. he is like... He is another Waoki like me!!"
he cried completely petrified as the man who was his enemy was exactly
as he was, his same eyes, his hair, his face... although he looked
to him like a real warrior, ready to kill him, at the slightest
movement.
Waoki was trembling. He got keeping the man, like when you look
at yourself in a mirror, a distorted mirror no more reflecting
your face, but the face you always wanted to have as your own face.
"I cannot see him..." said Waoki, "I can't see him now-"
Someone hit him in his back so strongly that he stumbled and fell
to the dust. When he turned back, he got to see his image moving
fastly to the bottom of the battlefield. The crowd was reaching to
climax.
"C'mon! Kill him now or you won't be happy never in your life!"
cried a voice from the walls. Waoki was confused, he heard people laughting
at him... with a familiar voice... as three jackals were up on a wall
near him.
"Hahahaa! Look at the warrior, kissing and biting the dust!! Hahaaa!"
"Oh yes, does it hurt, you little doll? Hahahaaa!!"
Waoki could hardly stand up. He was full of blood with a great
pain in his head and neck. The crowd was roaring as he fell against,
this time due to a punch in the middle of his face.
"Hoohahaa! Waoki is gonna kill himself!! He dreamt of him, he dreamt
of being different to what he really is, and look! there he is,
on his knees, whimpering like a baby that doesn't want to play anymore!!"
================================================================================
Note 138.20 Red Smoke 20 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 35 lines 4-JAN-1989 10:08
-< Second death of Waoki >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Waoki felt himself miserable, he couldn't even feel his
legs, his arms, his soul.
"There he comes again..." mumbled as he saw the figure
coming to him running, with an axe in his right hand
and a knife in the left one. The warrior jumped to him.
Straddling over Waoki, that was the first time they both met.
One looking at the other. They could see each other perfectly.
Everything was quite, in silence.
Waoki stared at him. He could see his face reflected in the
pupils of that Waoki staring at him.
"He probably is as surprised as I am of myself" thought Waoki.
"Look at the stranger you've become" said the warrior. "Look
at you, your own enemy. You wanted to be like I am, and now,
reality is a distorted image of you dreams. You have become
an stranger, Waoki, and the stranger in you it's me. I am
what you wanted to be yourself. Facing this dilemma you die,
struggling every night against yourself, destructing what's inside
you... poor Waoki... you were unsatisfied the way you are...
how can you live with that unsatisfaction under your pillow? How
the hell do you think you can live hating yourself?".
They both staring each other, penetrating inside the other.
The warrior raised the axe... sweat in his forefront... tears
in his eyes... the dust become thicker...
"Oh God!!! Gimme an axe to break this frozen sea inside me!!"
cried Waoki. And that was the second time he died, as it was
the custom.
================================================================================
Note 138.21 Red Smoke 21 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 31 lines 4-JAN-1989 10:25
-< Loving the way you are >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Welcome again to the shaft of the powerless!" said a familiar
voice. Waoki opened his eyes. He was terribly tired.
"What has... happened to me..."
"Oh! The warrior has been fighting for whole moon"
"I have had a nightmare, that's all"
"A nightmare? And how do you call those scars you've got all around
your body, you scatterbrain?" asked ironically the man in rags.
"Scars?" asked Waoki looking at his arms and legs, all full with
deep scars. He couldn't believe but, surprisingly even for him,
a sensation of internal peace and quiteness invaded his heart.
"Scars?" he repeated, "See, I have been fighting for a whole
moon, and I have killed my worst enemy. At last, you know,
I can sleep in peace, for I have recovered what I lost a long
time ago. I have discovered the best treasure a man can discover"
"Oh! I see, and what treasure is that you have found, scatterbrain?"
asked the man looking at Waoki.
"I have discovered how I really am" answered Waoki.
"Is that all?"
"No. The treasure, my friend, is that I have discovered
I must be happy... the way I am".
And they both laughed, and their laughing climbed up out
of the shaft, and filled the blue sky, and reached the sun,
and the jackals got ashamed for someone, from the deepest
shaft of the desert, was teaching them how to laugh, sincerely.
================================================================================
Note 138.22 Red Smoke 22 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 30 lines 18-JAN-1989 03:06
-< Lac Qui Parla (I) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
LAC QUI PARLA (I)
-----------------
Waoki was falling slowly.
He fell on a canoe so softly that no waves appeared on the
surface of the water. Waoki looked around exploring the
surroundings with curiosity.
"Strange river is this, for the water is completely white and
quiet" he thought. Then, the canoe started moving, leisurely.
Waoki was constantly examining the canoe, looking around
surprised. "What is this? A magic canoe? I can't see any row and
the water is completely calm, but the canoe is moving..." he
thought.
He looked at the distance, trying to distinguish the bank of the
river. He noticed it was a strange river, or perhaps it was a
lake. The water seemed to be like fluorescent milk. There was no
sky, but a metalic luminous green cloud glowing all over his
head. Nothing could be heard.
And Waoki sat on the canoe, wondering what was all about. He kept
constantly looking around, for he felt like being watched. Yes,
he could feel big eyes staring at him, someone observing his
movements as the canoe moved forward commanded by a mysterious
force.
================================================================================
Note 138.23 Red Smoke 23 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 74 lines 18-JAN-1989 03:16
-< Lac Qui Parla (II) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
LAC QUI PARLA (II)
------------------
Suddenly, a voice coming from no place in particular and from
every place said "Welcome to the Speaking Lake... don't feel
scared... my waters are like the arms of a young lover, although
my heart is as hard as zirconite".
Waoki's heart stood still. He was terrified. "I'm not scared... I
am..." he managed to mumble.
"Yes, I know you are not scared" said the voice again.
Waoki was looking with penetrating eyes all around. He tried to
guess the source of the voice. "Perhaps the enemy is hidden..."
he thought.
"Oh, no! I'm not your enemy. My name is Lac Qui Parla. It's a
French name, you know. Stop looking around, please. It makes me
feel nervous."
Waoki got petrified. How could the enemy read his mind? And if
the enemy was so powerful to stay hidden and yet read his
thoughts, how was he to defend himself? He was in a canoe that
probably was commanded by the enemy, and an enemy being able to
command a canoe at a distance... wasn't the most powerful enemy
he had ever faced?. His thoughts were interrupted again by the
voice:
"Listen: I have more than a lifetime to convince you of my
intentions. In fact, I have no limits, no shores. On my waters
only those allowed by me navigate, so do not expect someone
coming to help you. It's simply useless. Say, if you need
something, ask me for it. You want some food? Here it is!"
Suddenly, Waoki saw thousands of dishes and platters floating all
around him. On the dishes he could see fruits, exquisite viands
and meat, and all kind of wines. By simply extending his hands,
he could get whatever dish he wished.
"Or perhaps you need some amusement..." said the voice calmly,
and big platforms appeared floating with little orchestras
playing strange musics and beautiful women dancing on them.
Waoki was amazed. "What do you want of me? Who are you?" asked
Waoki looking at the floating festival in front of his eyes.
"I already told you my name. I dislike repeating things. I'm
simply a speaking lake. That's all. But if you want to know how
do I manage to talk, let me explain it to you." said the voice. And
then, violin music filled the air, and the voice said:
"I collect words. It may be a stupid thing for you, but it is
quite important to me, for collecting words is what enables me to
speak. Speaking is everything I love. Being a lake is just a
matter of circumstances, you know. But being a speaking lake,
that is really unique. I do not wish to be unique, for being
unique means being everything or, if you prefer it this way,
being unique means no one else can be."
"I do not want to look stupid, Sir, but I can't follow you..."
said Waoki trying to get some information about his present
situation.
"Well, I have more than a lifetime to explain these things to you,
my friend. See, I hate differences. Differences means hate.
Nobody stands being different. Different races means racial wars;
different flags means holocausts, different gods means different
religions, and different religions means someone will be
crucifixed. That is why I hate being unique: I only want to be
like everybody else. But I was born a lake, do you understand me,
my friend?" said the Lake.
================================================================================
Note 138.24 Red Smoke 24 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 40 lines 18-JAN-1989 03:25
-< Lac Qui Parla (II) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
LAC QUI PARLA (III)
-------------------
Waoki thought he was facing a mad. He soon tried to distract the
Lake while he could find a way to escape. "If this is Lake, it
must have limits for sure" he thought. The Lake continued:
"In fact, the only thing I need is just being human, like you
are. Life is the only word I missed. So, I need someone to give
me his life so that I can stand by myself, with a body, with a
soul, with legs to run, with eyes to see the colors of life, and
a heart to feel it beating at night... am I clear, my friend?"
Waoki was alert. He couldn't believe what he was listening, but
everything there was so strange that believing was simply a
luxury he couldn't afford.
"No" he said "You are not being clear enough. What do you need
from me?".
The violins stopped playing. The water became a little violent
and the canoe was shaken. Waoki firmly seized the borders of the
canoe to avoid falling into the water. Then, the voice sounded
cold: "I need your heart, my friend" said the Lake.
Waoki gor himself ready for the worst, but he didn't loose the
hope. His eyes were anxiously looking for the shore, and
everytime he looked around, he only saw a glowing green fog.
"If you want my heart, come here to get it. I am not giving you
anything, no matter how strong you are. I will fight till death.
If a dead heart worths something for you, you have won.
Otherwise: I hold my heart as a hostage!!!!" he cried while
opening his shirt and putting both hands on his breast.
The waters became calm again. And the fog turned into a yellow
smoke. The canoe stopped... and the voice whispered very close to
Waoki:
================================================================================
Note 138.25 Red Smoke 25 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 11 lines 18-JAN-1989 03:30
-< Lac Qui Parla (IV) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Waoki... all this was a proof... an exam to test how much
you appreciate your life... you have passed this exam, my
friend, but there remains still another proof, the most
difficult one... HOW MUCH DO YOU APPRECIATE OTHER'S LIFE?"
As the voice faded away, the fog vanished, and the coast
appeared in front of his eyes, an emerald line of green trees...
And Waoki felt happy, for the first time, as it was the custom.
================================================================================
Note 138.26 Red Smoke 26 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 22 lines 18-JAN-1989 03:33
-< The Messenger >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE MESSENGER
-------------
Waoki jumped out of the canoe, reached the coast swimming, and
stopped for a while by the seaside.
Everything was marvellous for him, the blue sky, the sound of
the sea, the purple sun. Still wet, he walked over the sand, breathing
as much air as he could.
Suddenly, he distinguished a rider in the distance. It looked like
a soldier with a spear madly riding on a black horse. He didn't
have time to hide himself, not even to run: the horse was over him and
he had to lay face down to avoid the horse pushing him.
When he rised his head, he saw the horse coming again directly
towards him.
He stopped breathing, closed his eyes and stood up waiting
for the horse to be close to him.
================================================================================
Note 138.27 Red Smoke 27 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 6 lines 18-JAN-1989 03:37
-< The Messenger (II) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He heard the horse approaching running towards him. He could
feel it breathing right in front of his nose.
He didn't move. And nothing happened...
================================================================================
Note 138.28 Red Smoke 28 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 30 lines 18-JAN-1989 03:40
-< The Messenger (III) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Message for Waoki from His Majesty the King of the Emerald Isle"
said a penetrating voice.
Waoki opened his eyes and saw a magnificient horse rode by an
impressive soldier dressed in black nacar with a silver sword
at his right. The voice said:
"I am the messenger. Those with ears hear my voice:
Waoki, welcome to the Emerald Isle. You have not been
invited for you are different, you do not speak our
language, yours never fought for us, your religion
is termed dangerous and primitive, and the color of
your skin differs to ours: you have three nights to leave.
After that period of time, I will look for you and if I find
you, I will sink my sword in your heart, as that pleases
my King"
Waoki was confused. He didn't dare moving a muscle. The eyes
of the horse were so bright that he couldn't stand looking
at them.
The messenger continued:
"You can change your religion, learn our language, dress
as we do, eat what we eat, and live set aside from our
villages, for there is one thing you can never change:
the color of your skin".
================================================================================
Note 138.29 Red Smoke 29 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 16 lines 18-JAN-1989 03:42
-< The Messenger (IV) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Waoki was hurt deep inside. Nobody spoke to him like
that before. Refusing being a Lakota was the last thing he was
ready to do. Without loosing courage, he replied:
"Go and say your King, that he is a poor man, for he only
reigns over uniformity. I am a Lakota: we reign over the colors,
no matter if white, red, black, or yellow. We adore no gods
except Nature, and even we do it as SHE is our friend. Go and
say your King that I'm not impressed by his messengers, nor
by his horses. Go and say to him that my name is Waoki, son
of the Seven Fires from the Allied People".
He was amazed by the way he had expressed himself. He breathed
satisfied. But the messenger did not move...
================================================================================
Note 138.30 Red Smoke 30 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 30 lines 18-JAN-1989 03:46
-< The Messenger (V) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Listen" said the messenger, "I have killed before. I don't
find it difficult. I have fought against many warriors, half
of them more powerful than you. And I have always won. I see
your a young boy, and probably nobody told you to think things
twice. But I will be patient. Only need to know if you understood
what I said".
Waoki moved a step back to avoid the burning look of the horse, and
replied:
"Sir, I have understood everything: I won't go."
The messenger got his sword at a lighting speed and before Waoki
could even wink, he felt the cold pressure of the sword in his throat.
The eyes of the soldier were sparkling like fire, and his smile
showed a thin line of metal that terrified Waoki and made him
trembling. The soldier pushed the sword slightly forward, and Waoki
tasted his blood feeling it running down his breast.
It was the first time he got really terrified, for the look of
death was of a clarity he never could imagine. When the warrior
went away riding, he fell down on his knees and with trembling
lips looked at the blood on his hands and said:
"Mother Nature: if I'm to die, please,
let my eyes be opened so that I could see
the sky for ever!!"
And he got fascinated by the lively red color of his blood...
================================================================================
Note 138.31 Red Smoke 31 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 18 lines 18-JAN-1989 10:10
-< The Messenger (IV) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first night Waoki did not sleep. He was still feeling the
sword in his throat.
The second night he was completely down, sleeping by the seaside,
thinking of the messenger.
The third night he decided to fight, and there he was, looking
at the horizon waiting for the black horse to appear. When the
sun was up, the sea got frozen, the cold invaded the landscape,
the sky turned gray, and a deadly silence fell like a dense fog
around him.
In the distance, the figure of an incoming horse appeared, with
the blink of a sword brighting...
================================================================================
Note 138.32 Red Smoke 32 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 14 lines 18-JAN-1989 10:12
-< The Messenger (XXI) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The figure could be clearly distinguished. A black horse coming
towards Waoki, and the messenger with black clothes handing a
silver sword, approaching to him at a striking speed.
"Long live the rainbow with its colors! The white snow and
the black burnt wood!" cried Waoki.
And the image of a powerful horse and a deadly warrior
filled his pupils, ricocheting in his heart, and his heart
starting beating more and more, and the sky broke with a
tremendous noise, the sun melt over his head and the bright
eyes of the horse penetrated his eyes with a big pain...
================================================================================
Note 138.33 Red Smoke 33 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 4 lines 18-JAN-1989 10:14
-< (...) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He closed his eyes in the middle of a big noise as a wave
of heat burnt his face and then...
================================================================================
Note 138.34 Red Smoke 34 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 18 lines 18-JAN-1989 11:39
-< The last message >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... the noise stopped, the sound of the sea came to his ears
like a mild caress... and a voice that sounded familiar said
to him:
"Message for Waoki from His Majesty the King of the Emerald Isle!!"
Waoki could not believe it. He opened his eyes and saw the warrior
looking at him with hate.
"Message for Waoki from His Majesty the King of the Emerald Isle.
You have been given a chance to live, provided you teach my King
the colors of the rainbow" and then, whispering in his very ear
he added "... but I must confess that it would have been a great
pleasure for me to kill you right N*O*W*!", and taking Waoki up
without any effort, he rode away pressing Waoki's body against the
horse.
================================================================================
Note 138.35 Red Smoke 35 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 21 lines 18-JAN-1989 11:41
-< Encounter with the Queen >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"My King, here is the prisioner!" said the warrior violently
throwing Waoki to the floor. Waoki got up with great efforts
and saw a marble throne on which a young woman was sitting.
The woman was half-naked, with flowers in her head drinking
from a golden glass as two slaves were scorting her.
"Is this the 'valiant'?" asked her with irony and without paying
any attention to Waoki.
"My name is Wao-" started saying Waoki when the woman threw
the liquid directly in his face.
"How you dare??!! You FUCKING INDIAN!!!" cried the woman.
Then the warrior put his sword on his throat and said
"Keep quiet and shut up while my King speaks, stupid!!"
================================================================================
Note 138.36 Red Smoke 36 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 31 lines 18-JAN-1989 11:43
-< The eyes of the Queen >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And the woman stood up. She was really beautiful, as beautiful
as perversion once you fall in her arms. She approached Waoki
and spoke to him:
"My name is Hate, Queen of the Racial Wars. My law but one:
extermination of anyone being different, speaking differently,
dressing differently, feeling differently... BEING differently.
I have learnt differences is the main reason of suffering, that's
why I'm hell-bent decided to uniform the desert. I love no colors,
but THE color. I speak no languages, but THE language, I do not
believe in gods, but THE god.
I know who you are: you are simply THE ENEMY. You have fought
against the Santee, against the Cheyenne, against the Creek, just
because they are the Santee, the Cheyenne, the Creek. Now I
will teach you the advantages of being equal to your neighbor, and
the disadvantages of being different. First lesson, never look
at me as if you were my equal!!!" she cried punching Waoki in
his stomach.
"Oh, dear! Does it hurt?? Haa!!" asked the woman laughting at the
face of Waoki.
"Or perhaps what it hurts is just being different, eh?" said she
seizing Waoki from the hair. "C'mon jerk! Wanna hear your different
voice and your stupid fears!" cried she again.
And Waoki managed to stay up, looked at her, and said...
================================================================================
Note 138.37 Red Smoke 37 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 44 lines 18-JAN-1989 11:46
-< Close encounter with the Queen >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Love doesn't stands in the difference, but in the capability
to love the difference. Hate is the feeling of those being
unable to distinguish two drops of waters from each other.
Loving the moon and hating the sun is easy; but loving a
sunray freely chosen from among many other sunrays, that's
difficult. Love imposes capability to overcome our blindness,
while hate simply means loving the blindness.
I was born a Lakota, but were taught to love Nature, with its
animals, its flowers, its human beings. Living is a struggle
to identify ourselves as belonging to Nature. You may think
of you as the perfect human being, the most intelligent, the only
one, and you may dream of a day in which you could finally
overcome your own limitations. For you, that day never arrives,
for your being different is just putting some makeup in your face
with the secret convinction that the makeup will someday be part of
your face.
I've seen women loving themselves more than the man with whom
they sleep, and have seen men loving their flags more than their
women. I have seen people hating the others just because they
are different, and, you know, I always came out with the same
feeling: being different means your are condemned to the
worst penalty and, yet, the most challenging: communicating
with those who are different... and loving them for being
different.
I'm willing you kill me: the day the rainbow consists of only
one color, the Earth will sink in the darkness.
Kill me now, and we all would die"
The woman listened at Waoki's words without winking.
"Shall I kill him now?" asked the warrior pushing his sword
forward and pressing Waoki arms strongly.
The woman approached Waoki and said:
"Tonight, we both will sleep together: Difference and Hate, let's
see what comes out of our long night" and she smiled satisfied.
================================================================================
Note 138.38 Red Smoke 38 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 15 lines 18-JAN-1989 11:49
-< Making love with Hate >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Waoki was carried to a luxury room. The decoration was
magnificient, curtains of agatha and gold covered the walls.
He was lying in the bed, completely naked.
After a while, the Queen appeared dressed in purple clothes and
got into the bed, lying beside Waoki.
"So... I suppose making love with Hate is 'different' than
simply making love..." said the woman. And she added "Let's
see how well your beliefs translate in the bed... you nervous?"
Waoki looked directly to the lips of the woman and said...
================================================================================
Note 138.39 Red Smoke 39 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 22 lines 18-JAN-1989 11:51
-< Distorted frontiers >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"See, I have seen birds flying, black crows eating the corpses
of buffalos. They say there was a day in which the crow was a white
bird. But he liked corpses so much, that he dreamt of flying
up to Heaven to ask Nature for a favour. He asked for being
buried in the Earth, not in the sky, thinking that way he could
eat the corpses of the other animals after dieing. Mother Nature
discovered his plan and punished him to be black for ever so
that all the other animals reject him as soon as they got sight
of him"
The woman was undressing herself slowly, looking at Waoki's face
and touching his hair and lips. Waoki, although nervous, kept on
talking:
"I understand that you wish to make love with me to settle an old
fear, or perhaps to overcome what you lack of: you seem to me
like a black crow trying to get his part of the corpse. But let
me show you something" and he showed her his scars adding
"These scars mean 'The crow has found a new corpse'" and...
================================================================================
Note 138.40 Red Smoke 40 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 2 lines 18-JAN-1989 12:07
-< Kissing with hate >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... he embraced the woman, kissed her with love...
================================================================================
Note 138.41 Red Smoke 41 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 19 lines 19-JAN-1989 03:05
-< Shrieking >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
and when he was lying over the woman, he whispered in her
ears "Love, cry that you has at last hated me..." and the
woman cried to him "I HATE YOU!!!".
All of a sudden the door broke and the warrior rushed into
the room jumping on Waoki that, moving fastly, managed to turn
the body of the woman up so that the silver sword sank on her
back with a broken cry...
The room filled with black crows shrieking, biting the corpse
of the woman as Waoki ran away, crossing the room, jumping on
the black horse and riding as a thunder out of the palace
crying
"I wanted to make love, and I made hate!!!
Let the crows have their love, too!!!"
For death came out of difference and hate, as it was the custom.
================================================================================
Note 138.42 Red Smoke 42 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 7 lines 19-JAN-1989 03:06
-< Transmutation >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And he rode away, flying over the Emerald Isle, for days
and nights, till he melted with the horse, became the horse
itself, the hair of the horse... the breath of the horse...
... a sigh in the night escaping thru your lips...
================================================================================
Note 138.43 Red Smoke 43 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 29 lines 19-JAN-1989 03:07
-< a hope, like a whistle in the night >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
WHISTLE IN THE NIGHT
-------------------
Waoki was thinking alone, reflecting about his crossing
thru the desert of life. He felt tired of everything,
thought of home, of his father, his mother, and friends.
He started the travel being a kid thinking of the moon
like a cake nibbed by mice. He smiled remembering that.
But then, he remembered also the touch of his father's
hand. He was thinking slowly, as only the unsatisfied
thinks.
"God! I am tired of this wandering. When will it end?
I cannot stand anymore being alone, facing life as a
struggle..." he thought.
Waoki was maturing, he felt something changing inside of him.
And he realized for the first time in a long time... that
he was alone...
"I need someone to love" he said, "or a reason to live,
I need a goal... I need... the answer to this wandering"
And he slept, with the sensation that the end was close.
================================================================================
Note 138.44 Red Smoke 44 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 20 lines 19-JAN-1989 03:09
-< Snake >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The day after, he started walking again. The desert looked
to him somewhat different. For a reason he couldn't understand
the landscape seemed to him familiar.
The sun was shinning with less strength. In fact, he was
enjoying the walk. He felt himself light. At noon, he
arrived to a rock where the desert ended.
"For God sake! This is the place where my father brought me!!!".
He ran towards the rock, leaving his shadow behind him. Reached
the rock and embraced it with anxiety.
"Yes! I can recognize it!! This is the place where my trip
started!! Dad!! Dad!!! Are you there? Can you hear me?? It's
me Waoki!! I have come back!!!" he cried full of happiness.
Suddenly, a snake appeared on the rock.
================================================================================
Note 138.45 Red Smoke 45 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 19 lines 19-JAN-1989 03:10
-< Ssssst! >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Sssst! Sssst!" said the snake.
Waoki jumped back scared. "Snakes?? Snakes have come to
receive me???" he wondered.
"Ssst! Waoki!! Welcome to the end of the desert!" said
the snake.
Waoki stared at it, in silence.
"This is the end of your wandering. Before your father comes,
I have been commanded to explain you the last lesson. It is
the most important one, so let me be close to you, for I need
all your senses to pay attention" said the snake.
Waoki was reluctant at first. But then approached the snake
carefully and sat down beside. And the snake spoke to him...
================================================================================
Note 138.46 Red Smoke 46 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 13 lines 19-JAN-1989 03:11
-< Talkin' to the snake >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Waoki, you have learnt many things, but now you must learn
the reason for your wandering. You will marry soon. You will
go hunting and make your life as every Lakota does. What
you have done is going thru the desert of life. Everything we
have taught you you will teach it to your own son. It's hard
bringing your kid here, and you will suffer wondering whether
he will success or not. But that's the unwritten law.
Never fail to comply with the law. But there is still one
thing to be done. There is the purple sea over there, behind
that mountain. Go there, for today is the last day of summer...
================================================================================
Note 138.47 Red Smoke 47 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 14 lines 19-JAN-1989 03:13
-< The fingers in your hand >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You must wait for a woman to come. Wait for her inside the sea.
That woman is the most important thing we have, she is our
treasure, the reason for us to live. Be care not to frighten
her. If she goes... Waoki... you can count your days with the
fingers of your hand.
That woman is call TRUTH.
Don't be scared of her, and never rise your axe against her.
Go there and swim until she comes. Have faith, Waoki. Wait
for her till the Sun sets... and if she doesn't come...
================================================================================
Note 138.48 Red Smoke 48 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 6 lines 19-JAN-1989 03:15
-< Last step to mature >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... be strong, Waoki... or you would have to live the rest
of your life like with sorrow and pain... for if you turn
your back away from her... you will sink in the ocean of suffering..."
================================================================================
Note 138.49 Red Smoke 49 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 5 lines 19-JAN-1989 03:16
-< Farewell >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And Waoki went to the purple sea... with resolution...
as only those who know their scars go...
================================================================================
Note 138.50 Red Smoke 50 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 45 lines 19-JAN-1989 03:17
-< Last day of a new summer >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The seascape the last day of summer. Thin clouds like shreds
against an azur sky. The murmur of the waves kindly kissing the
shore. The blue sea calmly moving invites him to swim. "How much
I wish this summer never ends!" he thinks.
Step after step, he embraces the fresh air and goes into the sea,
the waters around him, and he swings over the waves, with his
back against the surface, gliding in dreams with his eyes closed
as the foam covers his hair.
He moves freely and cannot help smiling, then laughing opening
his eyes to the vast sky... a simple spot between the ocean and
the clouds... the coast disappears as a thin line in the tangram
horizon.
Silver fishes pass by, and he can even touch them with his
extended arms. "God! What if she doesn't come?" he mumbles to the
warm breeze. He has been waiting for her a long time. She said
she will meet him in the beach to have the last summer bath
together. "And if she doesn't come?" repeats to himself.
He swims with no fixed direction, and the water becomes colder.
But he likes it: the brave sea embraces him, and the waves get
bigger and bigger.
"And if she doesn't come?" still floating in his mind like the
black clouds filling the sky. The coast has already disappeared,
and the sun sunk behind the horizon. As the night falls over the
golden endless ocean, he seems to vanish with it... fading
away... fighting against the waves that now seem to emerge like a
challenging fist. And he is a toy in the hands of the sea...
"And if she doesn't come?" he asks to a flying seagull that looks
at him with a cold frozen eye. He desperately tries to swim back
to the shore, but he is completely lost, in the middle of a rough
ocean playing the last string of a nacreous harp called 'life'...
And the swimmer becomes the foam, the gliding wave... the sea
itself... and the murmur of a doubt falls into the depths...
"My God! What if she doesn't come?"
================================================================================
Note 138.51 Red Smoke 51 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 5 lines 19-JAN-1989 03:19
-< Rendez-vous, some sunny day >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... and a woman appeared in the shore, and his friends with arrows
and bows... and he saw his family... his father waving at him
from the shore...
================================================================================
Note 138.52 Red Smoke 52 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 9 lines 19-JAN-1989 03:21
-< Complete understanding >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... and swimming against the sea, riding on a wave of foam
he reached the beach... where his family and friends danced
by the fire singing old songs he now remembered as new ones...
... and he embraced his mother listening to the cries of the jackals
coming far away from the desert...
================================================================================
Note 138.53 Red Smoke 53 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 5 lines 19-JAN-1989 03:22
-< Dancing with the stars >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... and he looked at the stars joining the dancing... born again...
AS IT WAS THE CUSTOM.
================================================================================
Note 138.54 Red Smoke 54 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 8 lines 19-JAN-1989 03:23
-< Years after... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Years after, a man called Waoki was walking with his kid.
The kid was talking about the many moons and mice nibbing
at them.
But the man wasn't listening... for he was thinking of a purple
sea where he was to stand for three years waiting for his
son to appear swimming...
================================================================================
Note 138.55 Red Smoke 55 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 6 lines 19-JAN-1989 03:24
-< Doubts as a reason >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... and he was only struggling against a deep doubt...
"I will wait for my son there, by the fire... I know that's
the law... but God...
================================================================================
Note 138.56 Red Smoke 56 of 56
MDRLEG::RUBEN "El arcoiris no es tu escalera" 10 lines 19-JAN-1989 03:26
-< Finis >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
WHAT IF HE DOESN'T COME?
[finis]
Principio del formulario
Final del formulario
11 THEOREM 25
================================================================================
Note 140.0 THEOREM 25 43 replies
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 35 lines 24-JAN-1989 12:26
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"In war? You will bury your son.
In peace? You will bury your father."
Unknown.
********************************************************************
The old teacher knew the moment had arrived. Every student
knew it, too.
The teacher, with living sparkling eyes, went towards the
blackboard, looked at the students and said:
"Today, as you already know, it's the last class we have.
For four years we have been studying mathematics, physics,
chemistry, philosophy, music, linguistics, natural sciences,
archeology, anthropology, history, and Art."
He stopped near the window, looked out at the fields, and continued:
"We were fifty when we started. After passing the Heth level, we
were only thirty. The exam to pass to level Waw left only nineteen.
Finally, only five of you passed to the Beth level."
He paused briefly, looked at the five students, and added:
"Today we start the most difficult exam, the one to access
the last level: Grade Aleph. I will be brief. You have three
months to do your new task: proving Theorem 25..."
The students stared at the old teacher, and fear penetrated deep
in their hearts.
================================================================================
Note 140.1 THEOREM 25 1 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 5 lines 24-JAN-1989 12:28
-< Five students >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They were five students. All of them loved the University.
They were five youngsters. All of them hated Theorem 25.
================================================================================
Note 140.2 THEOREM 25 2 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 14 lines 24-JAN-1989 12:32
-< Cosine of defeat... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Theorem 25..." said Cam pensively. "For years believing that
perhaps that theorem could be forgotten... and now... Theorem
25 stands between me and life...".
"God!" thought Caleb "My God! Theorem 25... what am I gonna do now?
Four years struggling to convince me that theorem was a mere
spectre in my dreams... and now... Theorem 25!"
Hayim was walking behind the others, innatentively looking at
the floor. Theorem 25 was written in his forefront, flaming his
thoughts.
================================================================================
Note 140.3 THEOREM 25 3 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 24 lines 24-JAN-1989 12:34
-< ... equals nil >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Caleb stopped leaning his back against the wall. Behind he, the
seagulls were gliding noisily. He looked at Cam, lit up a cigarette,
and asked him:
"Cam... what have you planned?"
His friend looked at the sea trying to avoid the inquisitive
eyes of Caleb. As he could felt the eyes of his friend
like a burning flame, he said:
"You know, I never thought of reaching beyond Waw level. But
once I passed my exam... I started considering seriously
the possibility to reach the Aleph grade. Today, I have lost
any hope... Don't know... seems to me everything is over..."
But Caleb was unsatisfied. He knew perfectly well Cam, and he
was sure three months could change a whole life.
In fact, the danger within Theorem 25 was precesely that:
Proving Theorem 25 was the final step.
================================================================================
Note 140.4 THEOREM 25 4 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 11 lines 3-FEB-1989 09:03
-< Moving forwards >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That night, Cam couldn't sleep. He wanted to start working
on the resolution of the exam, but everytime he took a book,
he opened randomly and read warnings about Theorem 25.
He was now reading an old Irish book on geometry:
"... and although every evidence at hand shows the
feasibility of the hipothesis, Theorem 25 still remains
unchallenged...". He dropped the book... and felt cool.
================================================================================
Note 140.5 THEOREM 25 5 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 11 lines 3-FEB-1989 09:05
-< Unexpecting the expected >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Caleb was having a walk along the seaside. He was the best student,
and he was aware of it. His thesis on how to unexpect the expected
was reputedly recognized at one of the best works in many years.
But even those days of glory carried him some anxiety: he
was clever enough to know Theorem 25 was waiting for him to be
solved... some sunny day.
================================================================================
Note 140.6 THEOREM 25 6 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 20 lines 3-FEB-1989 09:07
-< Think twice >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The teacher called the students, one by one. Hayim was the
first. He entered the desk with sorrow in his eyes.
He was an intelligent student, somewhat idealistic, maybe,
but mature enough to know passionate teachers can be of
no use at all... while students with no faith were also
the worst students...
"Hayim, sit down" said the old teacher. Hayim sat on the
chair in front of his beloved teacher, mute.
"You know why I called you. The exam will be held in three months
now. It's a long time for you to try solving the theorem. You
are good at History, and I'm sure your knowledge in music
will be very valuable. I only ask you for a favor: before
giving it up, think twice."
================================================================================
Note 140.7 THEOREM 25 7 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 10 lines 3-FEB-1989 09:09
-< The last secret >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Cam entered the room, the teacher was examining some
records. Cam sat down and looked at the man. He adored him,
for good students always admire their teachers when they
at last recognize... those teachers have taught them
everything they know, without keeping for them the last
secret: their incapability to solve Theorem 25.
================================================================================
Note 140.8 THEOREM 25 8 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 22 lines 3-FEB-1989 09:12
-< Being alone with our own noises >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cam knew the teacher expected him to break the ice. And he
did, as he always did for four years.
"Teacher, I did not sleep like night. I never did before
an exam, but this night... it has been different..."
"Cam" said the teacher, "Raelth and Sem have already
given up. They will join the school as teachers: they
have decided not to go further. I understand their
decisions... but will never accept your giving up."
Cam was voiceless. Finally, he said:
"Raelth is the kind of man I would like to be: he taught
me silence is just leaving someone alone with his own noises"
And both men kept silence.
================================================================================
Note 140.9 THEOREM 25 9 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 17 lines 3-FEB-1989 09:14
-< Geometry of love >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The teacher was facing Caleb. The record of his student
was impressive: nobody knew Old Micean like he, nobody
played the Frigian tone like he did... and anthropology
was a game for him... as if he, in a dark past, were
member of one of those cultures he described so perfectly and
thoroughly in his latest works.
The teacher only felt enthralled once in his life: when Caleb
gave him for reading his work on Geometry of Love.
If someone was to solve Theorem 25, that was Caleb... although
not the Caleb he was facing now, but the Caleb he would soon
become...
================================================================================
Note 140.10 THEOREM 25 10 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 32 lines 3-FEB-1989 09:17
-< The tresures within Theorem 25 >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The teacher spoke to him with love, but cold:
"Caleb, I have called you all to touch base with your feelings,
to know the students you are, but also the man inside... I
have not chosen the final subject: it was the only one left.
Many students I met, but you five are my best. Two of them
have already chosen a softer path, though you and me know that
path will never render the treasures of Theorem 25".
Caleb listened weighting each of the words. Impulsive as he was,
he dared to ask the question:
"Teacher, you already know my extrovertion is simply imaginary...
for I fear the world, and love so much the beauty I never dared
to solve the theorem. But you also know my will to knowledge,
my unsatisfaction after each discovery and the permanent doubt
I get after my findings. This time, teacher, I'm decided to reach
far beyond my fear, but need only a map, a map showing where to start
looking for..." he hesitated, looked at the floor, and added:
"I need to know... how was the first man... who postulated...
Theorem 25.".
Suddenly, the teacher became nervous, his eyes got darker, and,
for the first time in four years, Caleb recognized a strange look
in his look.
Outside, the wind violently uprooted a white rose.
================================================================================
Note 140.11 THEOREM 25 11 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 35 lines 3-FEB-1989 09:20
-< The power of the first postulate >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Caleb moved fastly. In only one week, he gathered information
enough about the three different ways of postulating Theorem 25.
He read them thoroughly, giving importance to every word,
to every blank space, to every colon.
He found an old book by a Polish logician, known as being
the first mathematician approaching a reasonable postulate. And
Caleb wrote down portions of the postulate in his workbook:
"... for a complete understanding of the problem needs to be
gained before proceeding further... as Theorem 25 defies even
powerful conceptual systems..."
"... the geometry of love being such, that only admits a strong
link to one being, and that at the rate of weakening other links...
or even the source of the love itself..."
"... cases appear in which a given solution works properly in
the short term, while it corrupts the whole harmony in the
long run..."
"In any case, Theorem 25 postulates that breaking a monotonous
course must be viewed... as a movement in the opposite direction...
beauty and harmony lying somewhere between decision and indecision"
Caleb was devouring the old book at an incredible speed. But
then, at the turn of a page, his heart was frozen.
His eyes refused to go on reading... so powerful the first
postulate of Theorem 25 was.
================================================================================
Note 140.12 THEOREM 25 12 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 15 lines 9-FEB-1989 14:43
-< Never play the same way >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cam never liked playing chess. "A formal system", he thought, "with
infinite arrangements in a finite universe tends to end always in the
same way. Even if there were no figures to move, or even if the
game ends with an impasse, the system is still infinite... for
you have always the same rule: both players start with the same
arrangement... and end with different ones... the probability of
a game being repeated is null...".
"In fact, if you start an emotional relationship with a friend,
you never know how will it end... and even having the possibility
of living twice your life, that means nothing: you never play the same
way"
================================================================================
Note 140.13 THEOREM 25 13 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 15 lines 9-FEB-1989 14:46
-< The Great Chess Player >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Imagine God as a chess player. Starting from position 0, he must
reach to position 1, but there are infinite ways of reaching that
position. He knows the rules, otherwise, he couldn't play.
He knows what to do in any given case: but he can do it in
different ways... as every game is a new one, he never gets
a perfect understanding of what comes next... or... as Theorem
25 states...
God only decides the initial arrangement,
neither the middle ones, nor the last one..."
================================================================================
Note 140.14 THEOREM 25 14 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 39 lines 9-FEB-1989 14:51
-< E2-E4 >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Caleb was sitting next to Cam.
"So, what are your findings in these three weeks?" he asked directly.
Cam looked at him and said: "You wanted to know what happens if you
change the rules, but you forget that it is the chess board what
defines the rules... I mean... if you choose a round board... what
will be the rules defining how the black King moves? They must
be different, and yet, he is still the black King... and his goal
stays still clear... although HOW to reach the goal changes..."
Caleb listened at him carefully. After thinking about his words,
he replied:
"Call the chess board 'Universe', the figures 'humans', the rules
'the system'. Everybody knows his goal, his possibilities within
that Universe... and what to do or not to do within that Universe.
Wondering about what was the initial arrangement is useless, for that
tells us nothing about which will be the final one.
Knowing the rules help, but is just a minor issue. Knowing your
enemies is just a matter of observation. What you need... is a way
to read the mind of your opponent... just to guess his moves... and
be ready to plan yours accordingly... but Theorem 25 states...
that although the man can exists before the
machine, the machine can never exists before
the man
and that's the real independence of man, the only condition the
machine cannot satisfy"
He thought of the moon, the noises of his beating heart...
... and he hated the equations for the first time, the chess board,
the Art Galleries where they sell feelings as goods...
And someone made a move... E2E4... and he trembled.
================================================================================
Note 140.15 THEOREM 25 15 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 43 lines 9-FEB-1989 14:56
-< Faith >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Caleb was talking to Cam. His eyes were fire.
"Only equations live forever. Only an equation is permanent
and embeds a truth based on universally proven principles.
A statement can finally be proven false. An entire philosophy
can be defeated. But a simple and tiny equation, if it stands
a mathematical proof and does not contradict experience, will
pass to History as a new achievement, as a new valid finding.
That's why I do believe in equations... with universal constants."
********************************************************************
Cam listened to his friend in silence. When he finished, Cam
look at the floor... raised his head and, looking at the eyes
of Caleb, said:
"You miss what's behind each and every equation. You forget
equations are postulated by real men, with their problems,
with their anxieties and handicaps. You miss the whole picture
behind any equation... every equation reflects a wish, a dream,
a fact... but they tell nothing on the individual, they say
no word about hopes. They are like photographs: they are only
valid the minute they are taken. After years, they do not
reflect anything real, but something that was, some day,
and no more is"
****************************************************************
Despite the efforts to convince Caleb, Cam knew he couldn't
go further. If Caleb was decided to create a new mathematical
apparatus to work on, he would do it.
But, by some circumstances he couldn't define, he knew Theorem
25 enclosed great surprises for anyone trying to solve it.
... and he was right, for solving Theorem 25 needed some
sort of fanatism... and faith.
================================================================================
Note 140.16 THEOREM 25 16 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 7 lines 9-FEB-1989 15:02
-< Indecision >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
5R:
You've been moving around a point... in circles... the center of which
is your indecision... to break that circle.
================================================================================
Note 140.17 THEOREM 25 17 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 7 lines 9-FEB-1989 15:04
-< Time >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[e�+��]:
You're looking for a dictionary of life, where every feeling
is listed with its meanings... but you forget that's dictionary
is constantly being written... its name: time.
================================================================================
Note 140.18 THEOREM 25 18 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 7 lines 9-FEB-1989 15:06
-< Iceberg >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
?�:
You crushed your ship against an iceberg. On the top was me,
below... your incapability to understand me....
================================================================================
Note 140.19 THEOREM 25 19 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 14 lines 10-FEB-1989 12:53
-< Cam's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cam had a diary. Everyone has a diary, too. Although the mirror
in your room can tell you more than the yellow pages in your diary.
That's why he wrote, late at night, about his soul:
"You think you know it all, and find it a necessity
showing it to me every second."
I know you know nothing on me, and find it hard
helping showing it."
================================================================================
Note 140.20 THEOREM 25 20 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 10 lines 10-FEB-1989 12:58
-< Cam's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"You are unequivocally identified. For the good sheperd always
knows his sheeps very well.
You think you are different. And you are proud of it. What's more:
you are completely right. Your being different keeps you within
the herd... that's why the sheperd smiles when he sees you lying
with the others."
================================================================================
Note 140.21 THEOREM 25 21 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 7 lines 10-FEB-1989 13:00
-< Cam's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Today I thought twice before running away:
It's a matter of time realizing you are your own watchdog.
It starts by neglecting this fact."
================================================================================
Note 140.22 THEOREM 25 22 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 7 lines 10-FEB-1989 13:01
-< Cam's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"You think having a name and a face it's enough for joining
the mainstream without loosing your identity.
You ignore your face contributes to the faceless look of the mass."
================================================================================
Note 140.23 THEOREM 25 23 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 6 lines 10-FEB-1989 13:03
-< Cam's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Theorem 25?:
I do not feel like fighting for any cause. I know causes
fight each other to gain a bunch of brainless men."
================================================================================
Note 140.24 THEOREM 25 24 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 16 lines 10-FEB-1989 13:05
-< Cam's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"My religion has no commandments, for we simply use tradition
to settle the problems down.
My beliefs are not mine, they are shared among my people.
Even my house is the main square in the city, and my name
but a number.
But even under these circumstances, in which my time is the
time you allow me to be free, I know there is something
uniquely mine: the place and space I do occupy, for you have
yet not invented a way to steal my body... the soul, long ago gone."
================================================================================
Note 140.25 THEOREM 25 25 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 9 lines 14-FEB-1989 13:34
-< Caleb's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I have no time to wish anything for me. And even if I had the
time, I wouldn't have the time to enjoy that wish. And even if I
had the time, I wouldn't know what to do with my whish.
Or perhaps should I say more clearly, that I even think enjoying
it's against the law?"
================================================================================
Note 140.26 THEOREM 25 26 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 13 lines 14-FEB-1989 13:36
-< Caleb's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The days look to me a monotonous, humdrum, boring chain.
They look to me but the same. If I wish to remember what I
did yesterday, I simply look around me today.
If I want to know what will I do tomorrow, I also look to
today.
It seems to me someone wrote in a mirror the word 'day'
as it was reflected in another mirror, reflecting another
one... endlessly.
================================================================================
Note 140.27 THEOREM 25 27 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 6 lines 14-FEB-1989 13:37
-< Caleb's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sometimes I feel deep inside me an impelling feeling to be
alone with my own noises... but even there, in that dark corner
of my soul... I can hear their voices... stealing my noises.
================================================================================
Note 140.28 THEOREM 25 28 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 5 lines 14-FEB-1989 13:38
-< Caleb's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We cannot remember the future. Otherwise, we could be
hardly depressed.
================================================================================
Note 140.29 THEOREM 25 29 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 6 lines 14-FEB-1989 13:39
-< Caleb's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It is not that I cannot stand it anymore. It is that I know
they cannot either stand that I couldn't stand it.
That's why they exert great care in giving me the exact doses.
================================================================================
Note 140.30 THEOREM 25 30 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 9 lines 14-FEB-1989 13:41
-< Caleb's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
One dawn will come, in which we will be remembered for our
weakling way of doing things.
Unfortunately, they will call this 'tradition', and will
continue doing the things the way we do...
================================================================================
Note 140.31 THEOREM 25 31 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 6 lines 14-FEB-1989 13:42
-< Caleb's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Same discussions. Same impasses. The only alternative is
not to discuss anymore. Yes, boring discussions are all
we need to neglect and kill our capability to reason.
================================================================================
Note 140.32 THEOREM 25 32 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 7 lines 14-FEB-1989 13:43
-< Caleb's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My work. My wife. My talking about work with my wife.
My work again. My wife.
Again.
================================================================================
Note 140.33 THEOREM 25 33 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 6 lines 14-FEB-1989 13:45
-< Caleb's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
But someone must be intact. Not affected by the ceaseless madness.
Although he can be of no use in that fucking Cross...
================================================================================
Note 140.34 THEOREM 25 34 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 28 lines 14-FEB-1989 14:00
-< Caleb's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am sure this humdrum has an end... I completely sure life is
not a repetitive cycle of work, family, work, family, work...
In fact, everything points at a new world... a new dawn in which
we all will at last do what we always wanted to do. Yes, I'm sure
there is a door in our dreams we can cross to enjoy our dreams...
to meet the people we always wanted to meet, to create the music
we always wanted to play... to read the book we always dreamt of
reading.
And I will find that door, some night. I will close my eyes and
will open them under a new sky, with all the stars I could
imagine... with all the feelings and emotions I can discover only
in those dreams...
Finding the door is everything I'm devoted to. The door, just
gimme the door... and let me time enough to open it, just a
little, only a slight push at the door...
Let me, please, have a look at the other side of the door.
Otherwise... what the reason for dreaming? Relax? Evasion?
Escape?
No...
... dreams are perfect enough not to be real... some day.
================================================================================
Note 140.35 THEOREM 25 35 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 6 lines 15-FEB-1989 13:20
-< Caleb's diary >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Seeing once a misfortune is enough to be reproduced one
million times in our brain.
Even if you close your eyes, even if you take out your eyes,
even if you have no eyes!
================================================================================
Note 140.36 THEOREM 25 36 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 59 lines 15-FEB-1989 13:47
-< Caleb's flute (I) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Caleb was sitting on top of the roof.
No matter what roof that was, neither what was under the roof,
nor even if it was the roof of the church, the sliding roof of
the University, or the roof of the hall of any given office
building.
Wearing his jeans and his flute, his lively eyes were looking at
everyone entering under the roof.
"Well, I must look at the world before writing down my equation"
he thought.
And he started looking at the passing people... on top of the
roof.
*******************************************************************
He saw a young lady sitting at her desk, working with a computer,
or perhaps it was a nuclear reactor, or, why not? perhaps it was
simply a girl embracing with love her little kid.
It was the same, in any case. Even, if he looked carefully, he
could really be convinced it wasn't a girl, but an old man
counting the little money the Government payed him... for being
old... or perhaps it was a yonkie closing his eyes and his fist,
with the extended arm showing you the many scars in his veins...
Or a musician playing the piano under the rain... or a painter
looking after an unknown color... or a soldier lost in a jungle
somewhere far away from home...
Or, simply, there were many persons within one... all the faces
conforming an uniform face, all the dreams melt into one liquid
hope that vanishes as you stand waiting for the bus to come...
Or maybe it was a teacher with nothing to teach, or a crowdy
corridor in a dirty hospital... or two boys kissing each other...
or perhaps a woman smoking as she waits for her kid... outside
the ICU.
It doesn't really matter. Nobody asks what happens around him.
Caleb was simply looking down from the roof... wearing his
jeans... and playing his flute.
And if you don't get to see him, if you still work at your
computer, or keep on counting the money, or keep shooting you,
or still intend to find that unknown color, if you think of home
in the middle of a foreing and distant jungle, or complain about
the bus being late, or smoke your cigarrette outside the ICU...
if you can't hear Caleb's flute...
... you should think twice...
what the hell were you born for...
================================================================================
Note 140.37 THEOREM 25 37 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 40 lines 15-FEB-1989 14:15
-< Cam's violin (I) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cam went out to the night. He was carrying with him his violin.
"If I'm to solve Theorem 25... I must observe how the world
works, how the city moves, how the people live" he thought.
And he found the TV tower... the highest one in town. He climbed
up to the top, sat comfortably there, put his violing on his
shoulder, and started to play his violin at daybreak.
He saw a man getting up from his bed. Slowly going to the
bathroom, having a shower and dressing himself in a hurry.
The man rushed to his car, mechanically... and the car started
moving... naturally.
Soon the man got into the mainstream. Thousands cars slowly
moving, everyone with a man inside, going to work. The man
switched the radio on... to hear some news spoken by another
man who also drove mechanically towards the radio station.
And he thinks of the daily work at the office, meeting with his
peers who also drove mechanically... and also heard the news...
and also think of the daily work...
And they all will make call phones thru mechanical girls
operating the switching board, to talk to guys they perhaps met
in the road, listening at the news, and also making calls...
before going to lunch, at the same hour, at the same place, with
the same people, talking on the same issues, before 5 o'clock in
the evening, when they drive again back home, listening to the
news... the same news... the same bed than yesterday, and the day
before yesterday, the same bed from which they all will get up
early in the morning to mechanically drive a car... that moves
naturally, as if every morning someone had dared to change the
road, the news, the office, the bed... and the life, itself.
================================================================================
Note 140.38 THEOREM 25 38 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 35 lines 16-FEB-1989 13:11
-< English and Computer Sciences >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The oldest man in the world was in fact the youngest.
Yes, I know he is so old you cannot guess his age. 82? 92?
Perhaps just 95 years old. Everybody knows him. When the lights
of the city start fading down slowly... everybody can see just
one yellow ligth coming from his room, up there, in the corner of
that building... his light.
He is not simply unable to sleep. In fact, he sleeps very well.
It is marvellous that such an old man still can read hard books.
But there he is... reading as you sleep.
If you go in the house and ask him what's he reading, he simply
smile and answer: "Oh! I'm not reading, but studying".
You get surprised, for a man in his 90s is not suppose to study.
First of all, how can a 95 years old man keep on reading? And,
above all... why is he reading? Or, even stranger, what the hell
can such a man study?
"Oh! I'm studying English and Computers..." he answers calmly.
English and Computers!! But, for God sake! he is completely
crazy!
"Oh! See... English and Computers is the future, you know, there
will be a great demand of qualified people with big expertise in
English and computers, and they say in a near future they will
need people with those skills... and if you allow me comment, I
would advise you to stidy, too."
Yes. The oldest man in town is also the youngest.
And no wonder: the future is his.
================================================================================
Note 140.39 THEOREM 25 39 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 51 lines 16-FEB-1989 13:31
-< Smilecatcher >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On the other side of the town, not far from where the oldest
man keeps on reading, lives the most hated criminal in the city.
He doesn't watch TV. In fact, he doesn't own a TV. That's not
very bad and we all forgive him that little crime.
But not having a car, like we all, that's really a crime. If he
likes wearing jeans, I'm not gonna discuss whether that is
ethical or not. But I'm not going to accept his other crimes.
He is the smilecatcher. And that's really the worst crime, the
most horrible one these days. He goes out late in the night,
climbs up by the walls of the houses where we all sleep, tired
after a hard working day.
He opens silently the windows, approaches the young girls and
mumbles at their ears:
"Ssssh! Wake up, you've got a smile I wanna see it. You've got
something inside you. I wanna feel it. Somehing for me worthing a
lifetime, something I need like water in the desert...".
Girls get terrified. Imagine a stranger in your room, beside your
bed, prompting you to wake up... and smile.
He is hasty, horrendous, a criminal.
But we've got a good police control, you know. It takes us only 5
minutes to detect his presence and, suddenly, the house is
surrounded by the SWAT guys, armed with automatic guns and
loudspeakers. A light projector illuminates the window of the
invaded innocent, the SWAT guys take proper positions, aiming his
rifles. And the captain announces with a proud voice:
"Freeze! We've got you this time! Get out slowly NOW!".
After three minutes, the window opens, and a smiling girl gets
his head out and starts crying completely mad:
"So, first that fucking youngster with his stupid flute, then
another stupid boy playing the violin on the TV tower, then that
corpse there reading nonsenses, and now you guys aiming at my
head with your deadly toys!!!!! I'm fed up!! Go hell you all!!!"
And then, closes the window, get into the bed, closed her eyes...
... and you imagine it, with a cup of black coffee on
your desk.
The Captain orders his men to withdraw, in silence.
================================================================================
Note 140.40 THEOREM 25 40 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 33 lines 22-FEB-1989 05:01
-< Commercial wars hit the city >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There is trouble in the city. Someone is listening the distant
noises of the SWAT patrols.
They say someone has occupied the TV tower armed with... a violin.
Anarchists, no doubt. It's a planned strategy to overcome our
most beloved achievement: security. And the students in the
University are rebels, too. They have taken the roof of the
hall armed with... a flute.
Something must be wrong. The Soviet withdrawal from Afghanistan
was suppossed to take things into normality, and now, a fucking
criminal invades people's homes and an old Anarchist professor,
in his 90s, still pretends to change the world. What are we to
do? I hope our guys will smash them all, sweep them out of our
beloved country. This cannot continue this way.
I can understand the yonkies, I can even accept sexual crimes,
and I have two thousand reasons explaining Wall Street crack. But
for God's sake! I cannot understand those crazy news about the
city!!
If the European still believe freedom is not to compromise and
the American go on thinking Cyprus is the capital of Italy,
what's left? Misunderstandings and anarchy!
I have payed my taxes to educate those bastards and now they play
the violin on top of the TV tower. I have accepted the SWAT guys
to patrol the city and they find it funny aiming and sieging
little girls homes at night. I have spent half my life devoted to
defend freedom and now here we are: a commercial war between
Europe and America!!! Throwing potatoes to our heads!!
================================================================================
Note 140.41 THEOREM 25 41 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 32 lines 22-FEB-1989 05:05
-< The concert >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"This is captain Number 0, SWAT patrol #15. You are surrounded!"
cried a loudspeaker while a powerul light focused on Cam.
"Oh, funny!" thought Cam, "the SWAT guys have come to pay me a
visit".
"Can you hear me??!!" cried the lousdpeaker again.
"Sure, Sir, you are making such a noise and disturbance that I
think you can be even be heard 2,000 miles away!!!" answered Cam.
"You are invited to leave the TV tower. Throw your gun and get
your hands up. Am I clear?" said the officer.
"What?? I have no gun. Sorry for disappointing you, Sir."
The SWAT man turned his face to his men. "Okay, guys. Take
positions. Do not shoot that bastard down before I command you to
do so. Lam, you go up there, on that building. Sem, take two guys
with you, switch the walkie-talkie on and keep permanently in
touch with us here" ordered the officer.
Then, speaking again thru the loudspeaker to Cam, he said:
"You've got three minutes to surrender... otherwise, we will
proceed to get you down using the force... wanna negotiate?"
Cam started playing the violin taking no care to the SWAT officer
down the TV tower. So tiny they seemed to him, so irrationally
worried to keep order and mantain security in such a wonderful
night!
================================================================================
Note 140.42 THEOREM 25 42 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 30 lines 22-FEB-1989 05:07
-< Strange audience >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A police helicopter was flying over Cam's head. By that time,
lots of people gathered around the TV tower base, looking up
trying to identify the criminal.
The police was having a bad time trying to clear the area.
"Hey! Keep off!! Keep off!" cried the officer to the pushing
crowd.
An old man complained "What's the matter with you, guys?? Is it
against the law trying to listen a violin concert??". Two
youngsters joined the general complaint. "C'mon!! Do not bother
the guy! Let him play the violin. What's wrong in playing the
violin on top of the TV tower? We all payed for that tower to be
built and now we are on our right listening a violin. Go home!!"
The captain started to feel nervous. He wanted a straightforward
operation, but now he was about to face a civil disturbance and
disorder. "Geez! A crowd of homosexuals now disturbs my job!
Sargeant! Keep the area clear! We are about to move in 1
minute!".
Once the SWAT group took positions, the helicopter stood in the air
illuminating Cam, as he played the violin.
The crowd got dumb, and only the violin could be listened thru
the quite air of the night.
================================================================================
Note 140.43 THEOREM 25 43 of 43
MDRLEG::RUBEN "5R([e�+��] + ?�)" 32 lines 22-FEB-1989 05:09
-< The Marketing Police Division >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Put it this way" said the mayor of the city to the Captain, "if
they can convince people to eat dogs food, if they can convince
the crippled to drive fast cars, and the poor to buy expensive
dresses, and if they can convince us they are cutting our
salaries down on our behalf, why not let them a chance to
convince that guy to stop playing the violin and get down of the
TV tower??"
The officer thought about it for a while. Then, he said "Mayor,
we cannot allow the first mad to climb up to the TV tower. We
cannot accept Anarchists to occupy the city at their will. We
must hit them right there where we happen to find them, be it on
a TV tower or under Richard VI bridge!e! Otherwise... others
could follow the example...".
"Oh, sure! sure! Hit that crazy violinist and you will have
massive demonstrations and disoders all over the town! Know what?
There's another mad guy playing the flute on top of the roof at
the University!y!"
The captain got serious. "Is that true?" asked. "Yes,
unfortunately that's true. And we must handle this issue with
care. Believe me, brute force leads to disaster..."
They finally decided to call the Marketing guys, a strange
department within the police responsible to convince criminal
using ads techniques. It was a department that, although it
proved quite efficient, never won the sympathy of the SWAT's
captain.
12 A farewell
================================================================================
Note 143.0 A farewell 4 replies
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Las rocas del desierto manaban sangre" 12 lines 20-APR-1989 13:00
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear friends,
Due to a personal problem to be solved in three months (i.e.,
end of July), I'm stopping writing in the conference.
Just wanted you to know. But I will use AVN to read every
new entry you post.
Regards!
Rub�n.
================================================================================
Note 143.1 A farewell 1 of 4
BTO::JPETERS "John Peters, DTN 266-4391" 3 lines 24-APR-1989 15:34
-< Adios. >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Good luck with your problem, Ruben, we await your return.
J
================================================================================
Note 143.2 A farewell 2 of 4
HPSCAD::DDOUCETTE "The Practical Technocrat" 3 lines 24-APR-1989 16:33
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
May your problems be small.
Dave
================================================================================
Note 143.3 A farewell 3 of 4
STARDM::JOLLIMORE "We are what we think" 7 lines 25-APR-1989 09:19
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rubin,
I look forward to when you resume writing here.
Best of luck.
Jay
================================================================================
Note 143.4 A farewell 4 of 4
NWD002::LOUGH_BR 6 lines 11-JUN-1989 16:48
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A very belated, but no less sincere echo of previous sentiments.
As long as there's some of us still here, you shall be too...
Warm thoughts and good luck.
Brian
13 Blind girl in the middle of a field
================================================================================
Note 145.0 Blind girl in the middle of a field 12 replies
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 19 lines 3-JUL-1989 10:03
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
GIPSY KID
---------
You wanted to come here. To the city of glass.
And you are enjoying your walk thru the main street,
with all the shops wide open for you. Tourist shops.
And there he is, sitting in a corner: a little gipsy
kid playing 'acorde�n'. Playing for you. Playing for
a dime. Mechanically.
Two thousand years of frustation at the end of his little
and dirty fingers. But you get away. Speeding up your steps.
You wanted to come here: two thousand years of indifference
under your feet. And the acorde�n fading away... gimme a dime,
gimme just a dimme...
================================================================================
Note 145.1 Blind girl in the middle of a field 1 of 12
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 16 lines 3-JUL-1989 10:18
-< Rachel's daughters >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
RACHEL'S DAUGHTERS
------------------
All the whores in this town are sacred virgins corrupted
by the evil and thrown away to the desert.
All the whores in my town have the eyes of a girl,
the hands of a godess, the heart of a poet.
But the police cleans the streets, and they run away,
looking for a safe place. Once the streets are cleared,
you can see again the ads, the shop windows, and the satisfied
smile of the bankers.
================================================================================
Note 145.2 Blind girl in the middle of a field 2 of 12
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 10 lines 3-JUL-1989 10:22
-< Chain reaction >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAIN REACTION
--------------
Be careful not keeping all your frustrations very close
to each other.
If one explodes, you will face a chain reaction.
================================================================================
Note 145.3 Blind girl in the middle of a field 3 of 12
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 8 lines 3-JUL-1989 10:24
-< Fair weather friends >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
FAIR WEATHER FRIENDS
---------------------
They helped each other in hiding what was clear to everyone
else eyes. That way they became fair weather friends.
================================================================================
Note 145.4 Blind girl in the middle of a field 4 of 12
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 12 lines 3-JUL-1989 10:28
-< Wind in the forest >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
WIND IN THE FOREST
The wind has a pleasure in fiercely blowing across
the forest, to bend the oaks till it gets them down the
mud. Blowing every day, making the oaks to tremble
powerless, even when the forest is but a desert, even
when the last oak was long ago rooted off the sand...
... even when there are no oaks at all...
================================================================================
Note 145.5 Blind girl in the middle of a field 5 of 12
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 11 lines 3-JUL-1989 10:32
-< Little drawers long ago closed >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
LITTLE DRAWERS
Little drawers long ago closed. Even when they still keep
the dust with the track of your fingers.
But they are empty for you, for your eyes were long ago
closed... too.
================================================================================
Note 145.6 Blind girl in the middle of a field 6 of 12
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 8 lines 5-JUL-1989 02:35
-< War photographs (I) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
WAR PHOTOGRAPHS
PHOTOGRAPH NUMBER 3
It was a little kid trying to smile, in the cold arms
of a dead mum.
================================================================================
Note 145.7 Blind girl in the middle of a field 7 of 12
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 7 lines 5-JUL-1989 02:36
-< War photographs (II) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
WAR PHOTOGRAPHS
PHOTOGRAPH NUMBER 34
Is a dead cat by the road, the one being bitten by the rats.
================================================================================
Note 145.8 Blind girl in the middle of a field 8 of 12
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 13 lines 5-JUL-1989 02:36
-< War photographs (III) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
WAR PHOTOGRAPHS
PHOTOGRAPH NUMBER 17
City lights. Those of the police cars furiously breaking
the silence of the night.
And an alley, where two green eyes look at nowhere, see
no one, feel nothing.
================================================================================
Note 145.9 Blind girl in the middle of a field 9 of 12
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 14 lines 5-JUL-1989 02:38
-< War photographs (IV) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
WAR PHOTOGRAPHS
PHOTOGRAPH NUMBER 102
Personal pronouns are not yours. Your is the verb, the action.
Theirs are the adjectives, and the adverbs.
For each of your verbs, they will add an adjective...
for they will judge your actions... until you are no more
able to do any action.
To that they call the screening of the world.
================================================================================
Note 145.10 Blind girl in the middle of a field 10 of 12
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 13 lines 5-JUL-1989 02:40
-< War photographs (V) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
WAR PHOTOGRAPHS
PHOTOGRAPH NUMBER 506
Mum's cooking, while you just sit looking at her.
Dirty face, you are but a kid.
And the planes in the distance, dropping bombs.
Every bomb makes you tremble. But mum keeps on cooking,
and making three beds... when you are a family of two.
================================================================================
Note 145.11 Blind girl in the middle of a field 11 of 12
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 11 lines 5-JUL-1989 02:41
-< War photographs (VI) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
WAR PHOTOGRAPHS
PHOTOGRAPH NUMBER 12
"Must be off" you said. And the girl was looking at the ceiling,
with a cigarette in her fingers, looking at the smoke as it leaves
thru the window... as you leave thru the door... as life
fades away thru the walls.
================================================================================
Note 145.12 Blind girl in the middle of a field 12 of 12
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 57 lines 6-JUL-1989 10:18
-< BLIND GIRL IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIELD >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
BLIND GIRL IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIELD
===================================
She was a blind girl. Although that wasn't true. She only needed
glasses, but nobody in the village knew it, for they had never
seen glasses before.
That way, she spent five years in the darkness, asking everyone
about colors, forms, and flying birds. But nobody payed any
attention, for they were all bored of her asking.
One day, a new doctor came to the village. He was visiting
everybody to keep in touch. It was one morning that he knocked
the door of the house where the little girl was living. She
opened the door, for everyone else were out in the fields.
The doctor soon discovered there was something abnormal with the
girl. And he examined her. "You need a pair of glasses", he said.
And the girl understood something was going to happen. A year after
the visit, the family gathered the required amount of money. It
was a crude year for the family because, except for the mother,
nobody really thought of the glasses as a real solution, not even
as a need. But the mother kept fighting and struggling against
those views.
"She needs the glasses" said the mother. The day after, they all went to
the doctor.
And as the doctor approached the girl, he extended his arms with
the glasses, gave them to the girl... and a new universe of color
exploded in front of her little eyes. She was extremely excited,
running around the room, looking at everything as if she was born
yesterday. "Can see it red!!! Can see it yellow!!" cried the girl
confusing the colors. But nobody cared. The father was looking
at her astosnished. The mother was crying full of happiness.
And the girl got out the room, running, nearly flying, looking
at the blue sky laughting and crying like a mad... till she
reached a field... full of grass and big blue mountains in the
distance. She was knocked out by the marvellous landscape she
could never see before, feeling the grass under her feet, the fresh
air in her face, the sunrays sparkling over her head.
And she got to see a bird flying quite higher in the sky. That
way she stumbled, bumped into a rock... and fell down the grass.
The glasses broke. And darkness closed her eyes again.
She bursted into tears, for she suddenly realized her family
could not buy another pair of glasses for a long long time.
That was too much time for her, for someone seeing the sky
for the first time in many years. She was crying, her face on
the broken pieces of glass.
There she was, a blind girl in the middle of a field.
14 The dreamer in room 547
================================================================================
Note 146.0 The dreamer in room 547 17 replies
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 38 lines 14-JUL-1989 04:45
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE DREAMER IN ROOM 547
-----------------------
Sleeping, that's the only thing you wish: sleeping. Closing your
eyes, hardly listening to the rumor of the fluorescent lamps
under your heavy head... 'cos you just want to sleep.
Your arms move slowly, floating on the air, finally landing on
your eyes... rubbing your eyes... closing your eyes and
yawning... so deeply... so calm... sleep...
Everything moves slower and slower, till nothing moves at all,
till your brain rests quite, profoundly mumbling dreams... sleep,
that's what you simply wanted. Your head leaning back on the chair,
and your fingers kindly touching the waters like waves coming
to your feet, and the birds singing in the far distance.
You sleep, sweetly, like a child by the sea, in a peaceful
garden in the afternoon, under a tree. And thoughts come and
go, they do not want to disturb... white is the color of your
brain, and yellow the sounds that come to your ears, softly
kissing your ears... Nature stops for a while, nobody wants
to disturb your sleeping so deeply. Even death does not dare
interrupting you... she loves dating, and never is late.
But this afternoon, she has come to you, dressed at her best,
just to find you sleeping, so many miles away from this world...
floating over blue lakes... seeing the snow in the mountains
under your feet... sleep my boy... and dream as long as you
can... for death waits for you, if you just open your eyes, if
you simply return to reality for a second, she will kiss you...
So keep on dreaming, for ever. Never mind if they call it
terminal state or comma. Never mind if they call it comma.
Never mind if you are in a hospital bed. Never mind.
================================================================================
Note 146.1 The dreamer in room 547 1 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 36 lines 18-JUL-1989 07:10
-< No, I cannot >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No, I cannot move mountains or give light to blind people.
But I can give you the pleasure of knowing what the others
exactly think of you.
Of course, it is up to you taking any action against them
or on behalf of them. But my long experience dictates that
this is a dangerous gift for humans to hold. But if you are
still interested in it, let me know.
No, I cannot make real your dreams, but I can turn your reality
into a dream, if you like. But I am aware you will use this
power everywhere and all of the time. You must be careful with
this my second gift.
No, I cannot return to life your own deads. But I can kill
your enemies, if that is what you like. But you must live with
the responsability of being the murderer, and I'm not sure
you could stand it.
Finally, no, I cannot make of you a god. But I can turn your
neighbor into your slave, if that is what you always dreamt of.
And if it happens that you wish to have all of these gifts, be sure
I will be the first one to hide on a corner of the Universe. But
you... how could you still think of hiding yourself, when your
criminal shadow will follow you to the last corner, to the depths
of the ocean... to your own tomb?
These are big gifts for your little trembling hands. I know
you want to the most owning those gifts. That's why I'm sitting
here, talking to you, and as your eyes sparkle, mine get darker
and darker, till everything is obscure, and my dream breaks
into pieces. But the green line in the scanner is your own god,
and he doesn't like negotiating...
================================================================================
Note 146.2 The dreamer in room 547 2 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 27 lines 18-JUL-1989 07:13
-< You remember >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You are dreaming... going backwards... to the zone of
no return...
Nobody is looking at you now. You are in the garden, in the
back of the house. Everybody is in the dinning room. So nobody
is gonna see you... the way you really are... the way you
really feel.
That's how the little kids learn the value of solitude:
they are in the garden, but they know they are alone. So they
jump out of the chair, all the body trembling, they get up
with care, stumbling, and they move a foot hesitating...
then the other one... a step forward... and the emotion is
so big, that they start smiling, then laughing, until they
finally fall down, face to the floor.
There they are again. Your dad and mum running towards you.
"I told you not to leave the kid alone!!!" cries mum.
"I thought he was with you!!" answers dad.
But they cannot see the look in your eyes: today, my kid,
you've learnt how to walk. And that's a secret for we both.
Never spare it with the others, or you will find yourself
marching dressed with an uniform and kissing a flag.
================================================================================
Note 146.3 The dreamer in room 547 3 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 6 lines 18-JUL-1989 07:21
-< Loving the shadows >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Maybe those shadows you hate, those shadows preventing light
to come to your eyes, those shadows in front of your eyes,
like a macabre dance... maybe they are just an invention
of light itself... for you to love it... for you to remember
how much you love it...
================================================================================
Note 146.4 The dreamer in room 547 4 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 33 lines 18-JUL-1989 07:45
-< The shadows in my paradise >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No, of course I cannot disconnetc the machine that keeps you
alive. No, I cannot take that decision on your behalf. That way I
keep looking at the scanner, with the profound feeling you will
return to life.
And if someone, as I sleep, enters the room and press that button
near the display... he will have to answer the final question...
of whether there is something beyond your ocean of shadows...
beyond the valley of light.
No, I cannot know if this is what you wish or not. I cannot be
certain on your feelings... as I am not even sure of what I feel.
And even if I knew it, even if I had all the answers in my
pocket... will I be able to extract the right answer for the
right question? Couldn't happen that disconnecting the machine is
but an answer from the million possible answers?
The scanner only says... unchanged transitory deep state... he is
only formulating the problem... the answer is out of scope. Yes,
I can take the decision on my own, thinking of you, thinking of
life and death, of abortion and suicide, of euthanasia and
genocide...
Between the scanner and you, there is a valley of light and
shadows. Every paradise has its own shadows, the shadows of the
living creatures that the Sun projects on my eyes.
Your luminous paradise is an empty paradise.
Mine is a paradise with shadows...
... the shadows of life.
================================================================================
Note 146.5 The dreamer in room 547 5 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 24 lines 18-JUL-1989 08:02
-< An excursion >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Remember the trees, and the color of the forest. Remember the
winter wind, blowing thru the naked trees.
Remember the birds singing, and the ants under your feet. The
clouds in the sky, and the lakes down the valley. Remember the
sound of the melting snow, and the postcards you saw.
Remember the music you used to imagine, the nights you wanted to
stay with me. The rainless days of summer, the moon behind the
peaks of the mountains.
Remember how you started running away , the day we made an
excursion to the forest. And we found it funny, you crying
"Follow me! Just follow me!", until you disappeared under the
trees. And you was out of breath, alone in the wood... the car
out of sight, so you lying on the grass...
... and you stayed there, you didn't want it to come back with
us. We three looking for you, worried. When we finally found you
resting, we took you back to the car.
You left something on the forest: your soul, hanging from a
broken branch. That's your power. Never let the scanner know.
================================================================================
Note 146.6 The dreamer in room 547 6 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 25 lines 19-JUL-1989 02:43
-< Think about yourself >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You should think about yourself, no matter if you deceive
yourself... it doesn't really matter what you really think of
yourself...
The dreams you once had, you won't have them anymore. And the
colors you invented and you couldn't use on a blank sheet of
paper... those colors do not matter either.
The landscapes thru which you glided once, the voices you heard,
and the ones you spoke... it doesn't matter anyway.
The friends you ever had, and the hands you held, and the
promises you exceeded once, and the father you never had,
the land you never went to, and the book you wanted to write, and
the song you wanted to sing with the people you wished to listen
at it, the nights you dreamt of by the sea, and the hero you
imagined you could once be...
Those things do not matter anymore.
For you should think about yourself now. And those things... you
are not.
================================================================================
Note 146.7 The dreamer in room 547 7 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 13 lines 19-JUL-1989 02:44
-< Song of the scanner >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No arithmetic can count
those moments, at night,
shining like rubies,
full of unspoken words.
And worlds of wonder,
lakes that shine,
lights in the dust...
that no arithmetic
can ever count.
================================================================================
Note 146.8 The dreamer in room 547 8 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 19 lines 19-JUL-1989 02:45
-< Dense curtains >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It is a cruel fight, the one that the shadows and the light hold.
You can hardly imagine there must be others behind that curtain
of shadows. You think you can remember, tracing back your
distorted past, one thousands feelings back into your memory...
until you reach a dark zone with no more memories... with nothing
to remember... except a road passing under your feet... and the
increasing anxiety that, at every curve, there must be the
answer... what's happening to you now, it is not under your
control.
And that intense wave of confused feelings, are they your
memories? You are inmersed into an immaterial world of
sensations, of images... and the scanners, in the other world,
behind the curtain of shadows, simply register an uniform line in
green phosphor... a line that means, for those on the other side
of the curtain... "Patient in terminal state. Coma level number
3".
================================================================================
Note 146.9 The dreamer in room 547 9 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 13 lines 19-JUL-1989 02:47
-< Ellyptical world >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Room 657. Is it an elyptical world? Or perhaps a world in
constant expansion... so you remember something about an
Universe... or was it another dream?
Ever dreamt of yourself as a hero? Forget those dreams, you were
but an actor.
Ever dreamt of yourself and you got scared of what you did and
felt? Those, those are the dreams that are part of you. The rest
are but dreams...
================================================================================
Note 146.10 The dreamer in room 547 10 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 15 lines 19-JUL-1989 02:48
-< The most valuable word >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Timeless ubications, concrete spaces, and the permanent fight
against the shadows. Your identity completely melted with your
rememberings, so much tied together that you wonder whether it
was always this way: you in some unknown place, and voices in the
distance. What if they cut the tube? What if they disconnect the
system?
In that case, at least, it would be true that there were someone
behind the shadows watching you. And that worths the whole
waiting. Even for those strange faces that you outline sometimes.
At least, there is a word you can have as your own and most
valuable word: "me".
================================================================================
Note 146.11 The dreamer in room 547 11 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 13 lines 19-JUL-1989 02:49
-< No alteration >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Today has no meaning. It is always today for you. But today is
different, the image of the road is clearer... you have seen
hands on a wheel... and the white painted lines on the road...
the road passing under your feet... were they your hands?
This irresistible doubt, this fight against the unknown, your
suffering is so intense... so real... so much painful... but the
curtain persists, the shadows are dense.
No. The scanner has not registered the slightest alteration. Your
brain is still your enemy.
================================================================================
Note 146.12 The dreamer in room 547 12 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 4 lines 19-JUL-1989 02:50
-< I can offer you my hand >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Of course I can offer you my hand. Of course you can hold my
hand. My imaginary hand, and your virtual sensation of holding my
hand.
================================================================================
Note 146.13 The dreamer in room 547 13 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 12 lines 19-JUL-1989 02:51
-< A travel back thru the scanner >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A school yard. With voices from the kids. Everybody running
outside, thru the main exit, and mothers embracing the kids. And
the school bus full of kids.
And a cold rain on your face, for nobody has come to pick you up.
Looking back to the empty classrooms... the lights off... and the
guard kindly offering taking you home. That's everything left.
Coma has its own unpleasant memories. What you was before coming
here, that we will leave it untouched.
================================================================================
Note 146.14 The dreamer in room 547 14 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 13 lines 19-JUL-1989 02:53
-< Get it up! >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Come on. Don't be down. Dream! Dream as you please! That's the
only place where they cannot enter, the only universe in which
you are the master, the owner, the creator himself. You can dream
of what you please, and the dream will obey at your command, at
your will.
Change the dream if you do not like it, restart the dream time
and again. You are the dreamer in room 657.
Although that's one of the things you will never know.
================================================================================
Note 146.15 The dreamer in room 547 15 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 20 lines 19-JUL-1989 02:54
-< Questions you wanted answered >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reconstruct your world. Redesign your life. There is always a
scanner watching you, and a whole bunch of doctors ready to
welcome you back.
That's the comeback: empty railroad stations waiting for non
existing trains, with never born passengers... going nowhere...
the place you wanted to go.
And if you dare fighting against the shadows you will recover
something that belongs to you. You have nothing to loose. Or do
you think there is always a denser curtain behind the darkest
curtain?? And if so, what the hell is life? Looking at you,
permanently paralyzed, and a stupid and laborious scanner telling
us all that you are dead when you can still dream?
You always wanted to know whether the babies dream of
something... you always wanted to know what's inside the head of a
newborn... but you never wondered... what happens to those that
sleep... and never wake up.
================================================================================
Note 146.16 The dreamer in room 547 16 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 16 lines 19-JUL-1989 02:57
-< Reminds you of yourself >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sounds are registered into memory by a clever and sophisticated
mechanism. So do the colors.
Blind people can also register music as you do. Even if they have
never seen a drum, or a synthesizer, or a Spanish guitar... or a
fountain... or the ocean... even if they do not know how are the
sounds produced.
And the mechanism is very simple: you are the music yourself, the
ocean yourself, the fountain yourself. You simply have to
remember this... and then you will hear the sounds.
That everytime that you see the sea you can hear it, that simply
means the sea reminds you of yourself.
================================================================================
Note 146.17 The dreamer in room 547 17 of 17
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Gloria, put ye LEGs around ma neck" 47 lines 19-JUL-1989 03:59
-< Euthanasia >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Euthanasia. Of course, this a thorny question, I know. Birth and
death are always thorny questions. On one end, abortion. On the
other end, euthanasia.
In the middle of both of them: suicide.
We only know one way of being born. A crude and deep cry of a
woman breaking the world into two, splitting Nature in two sides.
On one side, Nature itself; on the other side, the cry of a
woman, the pain. There is always another cry, and a warm hand
taking you by the feet. And even in those moments Death
hesitates... it can go with the mother... it can steal the cry of
the baby... but there is always one way to be born.
Dying is different. You can die in many ways, the sudden death
caused by a sudden car coming to you, the sweet death on a chair
by the garden on a summer evening, the horrible death when you
sink under the waters of a dark river, the criminal death of a
grenade exploding under your feet, the indifferent death of a
starving kid with the powerless weep of the father... and even
the negation of life, when you jump from a bridge, when you
ingest your pills... when you die forward...
There is always suffering in being born, and in dying. But it is
a known suffering to we all, and we cope with it. Nobody taught
us how to be born, not how to die. But you are living your own
life: the scanner says you are dead, but your warm hands tell me
you are alive. Nobody knows whether you are suffering or not. I
can only talk of my suffering, of my dilemma. Disconnecting the
machine... or mounting a permanent guard besides you in this
room.
And as my reason says goodbye to my brain, as I become more and
more insane, destroying myself in this hopeless wait, something
tells me I cannot take that decision for you. A cold scanner says
nothing on your suffering. I didn't tell you: they call you the
dreamer in room 657... for I have told them you are permanently
dreaming... so much you love your dreams, that you refuse to
wake up. But they say it is me the one who must wake up... and
they start talking on the useless attempt to keep you alive. Some
of them say that it is my own and only responsibility to put an
end to all this.
It is that responsibility that makes of you an animal, the kind
of animal that sadly wanders thru a forest facing an millenary
dilemma: kill or being killed... love without being loved.
15 SHORT STORIES
================================================================================
Note 147.0 SHORT STORIES 13 replies
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 12 lines 14-AUG-1989 05:36
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SHORT STORIES
-------------
It is the shortest story I have been told.
It is as follows:
"Once upon a time, there was no time".
Then, of course, everything derives from here.
================================================================================
Note 147.1 SHORT STORIES 1 of 13
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 12 lines 14-AUG-1989 05:37
-< STRANGE LOOPS >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I
-
The man was reading a newspaper on the caf�, but the waiter did
not come, as there was only a man, sitting by a corner, boringly
reading in a newspaper the death of man who thought he was
waiting for someone to come, to serve him a caf� in a place that
was not a caf�, except for a lonely man reading on a dark corner,
and a waiter... both of them dreaming... they were in a caf�.
================================================================================
Note 147.2 SHORT STORIES 2 of 13
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 13 lines 14-AUG-1989 05:39
-< Handkerchief >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
II
--
A handkerchief keeps your tears.
But you keep your handkerchief in a pocket, and your tears
with it. So nobody knows it is your birthday again. So nobody
gives you a handkerchief as a present. That way you weep...
keeping your tears in a handkerchief...
... who keeps your tears.
================================================================================
Note 147.3 SHORT STORIES 3 of 13
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 18 lines 14-AUG-1989 05:40
-< Phone call >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
III
---
Someone calls you at night. But you do not answer the telephone. As
the telephone rings and rings, you decide to ignore it.
And someone at the other end believes, you were not at home, so
you were not sleeping, so no need to hang the phone, but to keep
trying time and again.
And the telephone stops ringing.
But Death knew you were at home, and smiles with relief: She
thought you would dare answering the phone!
================================================================================
Note 147.4 SHORT STORIES 4 of 13
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 24 lines 14-AUG-1989 05:41
-< Knocking at your doors >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
IV
--
A black crow on your window. At night. It touches the glass with
the pick, till the glass finally breaks.
So you get really furious, get up from your bed and close the door of
the room. But the crow goes to the door, touches it with his
pick... till the door finally opens.
So you get more furious now, and hide yourself under the blankets.
And the crow flies beside you. But you think is a dream, it must
be seven o'clock in the morning, time to get up again and going
to work. But the crow is still there, touching the clock with his
pick... till it finally stops, at seven o'clock.
You surrender, ride on the back of the crow, crying, and saying
goodbye to the city where you were born. Oh yes, you enjoy the
marvellous view of the city lights... as we all do... when we are
not going to see them anymore.
================================================================================
Note 147.5 SHORT STORIES 5 of 13
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 16 lines 14-AUG-1989 05:42
-< The Robber >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
V
-
What if someone is sitting at your desk at home, using your own
clothes, speaking your own words, reading your own books...
... and still pretend he is a stranger?
What have you become that you cannot recognize yourself? Or is it
a daydream in the middle of the night? What if that man is still
being called like you do, kisses your wife like you do, and makes
love with her the way you do in your own bed, with your own
whisperings? He is not a robber, but what a robber has left of
yourself.
================================================================================
Note 147.6 SHORT STORIES 6 of 13
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 8 lines 14-AUG-1989 05:43
-< Ideas >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
VI
--
Everybody looks up to the ceiling looking for a lost idea.
But the idea lays on the floor, between your feet, looking up to
the ceiling... looking for you.
================================================================================
Note 147.7 SHORT STORIES 7 of 13
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 12 lines 14-AUG-1989 05:45
-< Great Things >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
VII
---
Your kid knows you are doing great things... like not calling
your own father, when he is about to die after doing great things
his whole life. Like his father did.
Like your kid will.
================================================================================
Note 147.8 SHORT STORIES 8 of 13
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 47 lines 14-AUG-1989 05:46
-< A Zen Dream >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
VIII
----
Let's dream, you and me. For you were walking thru deserts,
across the land of the one thousand valleys, dressed like a
beduin, or were you a beduin indeed?
And inside your soul was calmly moving, and the wind in your
eyes sweeping across the desert. And ancient musics came to your
ears under the stars, as you got to see a white luminous palace
of marble, with old people dressed with white tunics outside,
waiting for you, smiling at you.
And you suddenly find yourself speaking with them in Greek, or
was it Chaldean? And they take you by the hand and showed to you
a well, the deepest well in the world. As a beautiful slave
washes your tired feet, the oldest man explains to you that God
came to visit them, last night, or was it last century?
He said He had dinner with them, and they were so excited that
everyone started asking questions... about why... and how... and
where... and when...
And you were also invited to have dinner, but you were late, as
you always do. And the slave kisses your feet and disappears
behind the curtains that the fresh wind moves. And the wise man
goes with you beside the well, and tells you God dropped His
answers, down into the well, brighting down there for you like a
nova, but you are afraid, like you always feel when something
great it's going to happen to you. So you take with you your
golden stone, the rubies, the amethysts, and a silver wand. "Call
them as you please, Mathematics or Metaphysics, it is just the
same" he said. And you named them with the names that best suit
your knowledge, and there you are... descending down the well, in
search of Truth.
And you even got to see its powerful light, devouring the shadows
of your ignorance, filling your soul with pleasure, the pleasure
of a violin at the fingers of an angel. And you extend your own
fingers to touch the Truth...
Let's awake, you and me. For you feel dizzy... and we were only
dreaming... you and me.
================================================================================
Note 147.9 SHORT STORIES 9 of 13
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 35 lines 14-AUG-1989 05:48
-< The Machine >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
IX
--
Those were the days of technical wonders, of technological
developments. You could press any key and get love...
Mum said she wanted to have all the trees in the fields. And here
I come with a myriad bonsais for her...
Those were the days of great achievements, a plastic card telling
you how much you worth. That was the age of big emulations, the
fresh air of the wood in a CFC spray... and little John was no
more a stupid: a pocket calculator was the miracle...
There were no time to get bored, the drugs could turn you on and
make of you a famous painter. The days in which crossing the
Atlantic was a matter of browsing a newspaper as the plane
lands..
The day in which loving was easy: a wide range of colorful ties
all for you... But someone pressed the wrong key, the key
someone built by mistake. For mistakes were then expensive: an
slip and the AIDS knocking your door.
Then we sat around the fire, looking each other at the eyes thru
the flames. We were wondering where were all the wonders, the
technological paradise. And the flames were all emulated, like
the moon on the sky as a flip-flop device.
And our mechanical voices sang a metalic song: those were the
days of technical wonders... the days in which creativity was
free... but we forgot to invent the device, to turn stupidity
off...
================================================================================
Note 147.10 SHORT STORIES 10 of 13
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 24 lines 14-AUG-1989 05:49
-< Waiting Room >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
X
-
He was sitting. Like the others. Waiting to be called thru the
loudspeakers. "Well... I'm getting bored" he thought. And he
imagined a field full of grass. The people was looking at the carpet
amazed... as grass starting blooming all over. "How much I wish
floating on a river!" he thought.
And the water filtered under the doors, filling the room with
a crystal clear river getting bigger and bigger.
"Oh yes! How much I wish seeing the trees moved by the winds" he
mumbled to himself, and the wind started blowing... and the trees
emerged from the grass, beside the clean running river.
"And walk thru the forest!" he cried jumping and stretching his
legs walking under the trees, along the river, over the green grass.
As he knew that could not happen, the loudspeakers announced
his name. He left the room, and all the people looked at him...
with indifference.
================================================================================
Note 147.11 SHORT STORIES 11 of 13
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 11 lines 14-AUG-1989 05:49
-< Nostalgia >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
XI
--
Nostalgia escaped thru your fingers, like the water did
when you tried to embrace the sea, like the clouds do
when you want to keep them into a bottle...
... like a smile on contorted lips... the lips in your
face, like the winds thru the rusted bars of a window.
================================================================================
Note 147.12 SHORT STORIES 12 of 13
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 27 lines 14-AUG-1989 06:30
-< When Genghis Khan was but a child... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
XII
---
Tedmuchid was a child. He was sure he had been chosen to carry
out great deeds, gathering his people under a single flag.
He couldn't know he will become the great Genghis Khan. How could
he ever imagine his empire would be the greatest in the known
world? How could he even imagine of the steppes being ruled by
his warriors? How could he even thought of invading China when
the only view from his tent... was the vast spaces of the
steppes?
But Tedmuchid was a child, and every child has the inviolable
right to dream what he pleases, even when they become grownups
one day, so suddenly, and they still have the same old dreams,
and they ride on the back of their horses, running thru the
steppes, breaking the Great Wall, and violently entering into
China.
No. You cannot prevent a child from dreaming. But you should take
great care those dreams be good ones, full of color and love.
Otherwise, you will find your own kid spreading terror and death
thru the steppes and, believe me, they in China still tremble at
night, when the wind carries to them the ricocheting galloping of
Genghis Khan...
================================================================================
Note 147.13 SHORT STORIES 13 of 13
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 46 lines 14-AUG-1989 07:29
-< Lonely ship sadly navigating >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
XIII
----
Niccolo Polo was a trader from Venice. He sailed as far
as China, navigating thru blue seas to sell his goods
to distant peoples and kingdoms.
He loved telling stories to his little child. He didn't
notice the eyes of Marco, filled with admiration as his
father was telling things about the wonders he saw in India,
the marble palace in Peking, and the marvellous and exotic
animals of the ocean.
And when Marco went to sleep, he dreamt of commanding his
ship, sailing thru the oceans discovering new worlds, reaching
to unknown. Oh yes, he wrote a nice books relating his travels.
And it was another kid, called Christopher Columbus, the one who
spent long nights reading the book. He thought he could enhance
the job already done by Marco, looking for a new route sailing
Westwards, saving time, and additionally avoiding the dangerous
routes in the East. So he gathered a group of men and headed
towards the unknown.
You see, it is fantasy that moves the world. Fantasy and curiosity
that make us going beyond, travelling faraway distances...
... and that's why fantasy is so dangerous for those
that, being mentally crippled, keep destroying day
after day our dreams.
The day you cannot dream anymore, the day you cannot figure out
wonderful kingdoms beyond the horizon, that day we will see no more
ships crossing the oceans, no more fantastic stories, no more
Marcos, no more books.
That day, you know, we will look each other yawning, bored,
unimaginatively wandering thru dark corridors in a cold laberynth.
I can still read those books, and I have also written my own one.
But I cannot find the lands I want to visit...
... for I made a call to my people...
... and nobody came.
16 THE FINAL CONDITION
================================================================================
Note 148.0 THE FINAL CONDITION 44 replies
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 100 lines 18-AUG-1989 04:05
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Philology is the science of sciences. We study the language
and the signs of long ago extinct people and kingdoms.
Our interest is on old manuscripts, on coins, on old maps and
books, on papyrs and carved stones, on unknown palaces and
temples, on glyphos and legends.
We thoroughly analyze everything we find. We are supposed to
learn old languages, most of them never heard except for some
shepherds, and perhaps obscure monks.
We interpret the feelings, and we often travel into
the Unknown. Old religions are also useful for us. Archeologists
and philosophers, scientists and anthropologists, everyone
turns to us to interpret what they discover in the deserts of
Ninive, in the cemeteries of Calpucia, in the steppes of
Mongolia, or beyond the quasars... in a corner of space.
We start studying Biblical Hebrew and Old Greek. Classical
Latin is always needed. Then, we slowly progress into Syriac,
Aramaic, Chaldean, Sogdian, Altaic languages, Paleosiberian,
Sanskrit... and Sumerian. Of course, a perfect knowledge on
History is always needed.
There are lots of manuscripts still waiting to be translated,
interpreted, and illuminated by the light of knowledge.
Manuscripts, as books, have they own classification system.
As an example, BM-123*/bc-ahrntran means:
British Museum, 3 volumes, 1 uncompleted,
1 referenced and missing, written before Christ,
cited by Ahr, Indian Mithology. Not yet translated.
You know, there is only one thing I love in this world:
dreaming in my room interpreting manuscripts. It is not
important where did I study Philology, or when, or how. It's
only why what I want to tell you about, and I think I have
already told you: I'm looking for the meaning in all. I know
I will die some day. It doesn't worry me. I also knew I was
to work on a different thing if I wanted to earn money enough
to keep reading manuscripts. That's why I work here, at DEC.
Of course, neither my family nor my friends fully understand
my motivation. They used and use to laugh at me. Everybody
considers me a mad. They use to kid about my books. "Tell
us 'hello' in Sumerian!! C'mon!!".
Oh, yes. I love them all. And I have a secret goal, too:
writing a manuscript that someone could interpret and analyze
in the future.
This also means I believe in future. That's why I keep constantly
reading things about the past, and carefully listening at the
voices from the dark ages.
Yes. I have found God many times in my manuscripts.
And I have also found Love and Truth. But there is still
a manuscript missing, some passages not fully understood,
where the Meaning is envisaged... but not fully shown.
It is this manuscript that keeps me working for ten years
now. I have read it four times, I have not yet finished
my study, and I have spent a lot of money and time in it.
I can even cite whole paragraphs, both in the language in
which it was written and in Spanish, too. I have read also
many books written by experts about specific portions of the
manuscript, and I have travelled three times to the valley
where it is supposed to have been first originated. And yet,
you know, the writing turns hostile, sometimes friendly,
sometimes distant and obscure.
My wife says the only good this fever gives, it is watching
me fighting against it, day after day, and having a goal
it's very worthwhile these days. My teachers say I should
concentrate in particular poems, stories, or historical
references, instead of trying to grasp the meaning of the
whole document. Whoever be right, the fact is I feel myself
strongly attracted by the words in the manuscripts. I have
even succeded in analyzing the contents by electronic devices,
but I always ends only a step further, and even the new
conclusions seem to contradict the old ones.
Every paragraph holds a jewel, and every sentence gets a
conviction down. Every poem shows the path, but then every
new song closes a door.
This challenge always invades my heart with strange feelings
never ever before felt. And as I am still too much away from
getting thru the meaning of those words, I wish to offer you
all some brief notes and poems drawn from that manuscript...
interleaving some of those feelings and views, doubts and
learnings, that emerging from the old pages, come thru my eyes...
... and get me out of this world, late in the night,
when everybody can clearly see the light in my room,
and me reading...
... with my eyes closed.
================================================================================
Note 148.1 THE FINAL CONDITION 1 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 33 lines 21-AUG-1989 05:08
-< Each time you give a step further >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO I
==========
I'm perfectly aware you do not believe in God, but in Nature. I
already know you have designed your own religion, with your own
miracles, and crippled robbers turned into angels.
I know you are young enough to accept any commandments at all,
except the one you called yourself the right to be free in any
space, in any imaginary and real world, at any cost. I know you
are deeply convinced you reasoning is the key, that you already
mastered the laws of the inner matter, the mystery of the
stars, and that you have created a map to get in and out of
this Time and Space. And I also know you are longing for more
and more knowledge about the Universe... about yourself.
That's why I'm sitting here, in the highest peak, in the deepest
cavern, beyond the Sun, under the ocean. Where you reach, I reach
there with you. When you finally discover an equation, I become
the equation myself. When a strange loop appears in your
architecture of Man and Reality, that loop carries my name. When
you finally capture the last cone of light, you capture me
riding on it, living inside.
Each time this happens, you wonder whether there is a limit. On
wondering, you improve your mathematics, the eyes of your
physics, your chemical hands. Each time you go a step further,
each time you open a new door... there I am... for I'm the final
condition, I'm the meaning in all.
The meaning is what you need. Not how it works.
================================================================================
Note 148.2 THE FINAL CONDITION 2 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 11 lines 21-AUG-1989 05:09
-< Ergativity T'chao Wang >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO II
===========
Let's sit and talk. We both, but not you.
Let's sit and talk. Me and you and me, we both, but not me.
Let's sit and love, we you and me and you, we all, but not we.
That's the first step lightwards. No personal pronouns.
================================================================================
Note 148.3 THE FINAL CONDITION 3 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 20 lines 21-AUG-1989 05:10
-< Zenful verbless talk >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO III
============
This is Zen:
ALL except the SUN and then,
ALL and the SUN.
This is Zen:
staircases going up,
deeper and deeper,
every stair,
higher and higher,
as they go deeper and deeper.
This is Zen:
Repeat this with me and you and me,
with no personal pronouns,
in a verbless talk.
================================================================================
Note 148.4 THE FINAL CONDITION 4 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 24 lines 21-AUG-1989 05:16
-< Topics is your chain >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO IV
===========
This is a strange place for you. I know.
From where you come, time is compressed in your brain,
and your soul is always kept busy with a chain of
interpretations and decisions you must take.
From where you come from, Nature is kept locked
in nice postcards, and you only have the opportunity
to kiss the delusion of sharing its landscapes with
your eyes.
Don't worry now. We are going to make a trip lightwards,
the place where you belong, no matter how many times they
have taught you... science is the key... that opens
mysterious doors to the unknown.
This is a strange place. You have imagined we were
all obscure men, secretely reading hidden manuscripts
in a lost valley. Learn this one: topics is your chain.
================================================================================
Note 148.5 THE FINAL CONDITION 5 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 21 lines 21-AUG-1989 05:17
-< Surpassing what one is >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO V
==========
Let me take you by the hand, for the road is full of
dangers.
Let me push you down the hill, and see how your body
is welcome by the stones.
You wanted relax, self-knowing, and experiences beyond
the daily waterfall of nonsenses. Sorry to disappoint
you: here we use to be frank.
There is nothing inside you you need to know.
Except being honest with yourself and recognizing...
... you are what you are...
and what you are, you will never know!
================================================================================
Note 148.6 THE FINAL CONDITION 6 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 38 lines 21-AUG-1989 05:18
-< Being is what you need >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO VI
===========
There are many faces in one face, and many natures in one thing.
There are only one face in many faces, and one nature in many
things.
There smoke and heat within this fire, and many waters in this
river. There is a whole river in this drop, and many weepings in
one tear.
Things you have, things you own, are empty things. Everything you
have, everything you call your possesions, you are enchained to
them: you are part of them, like another thing, a thing that
things own.
You have your life, and your life has you. That way you can state
"This is my life, the life I own, the life for which I am the
owner". No personal pronouns: "This is life".
There are many experiences in one life, and many owners in one owner.
There are many chains around you, your own chains, the owner of
which you are. Break those chains, break the owner you are.
Everything you have, are empty things. Every empty thing, is a
chain.
You have an empty SUN: the SUN is now your chain. Learn this one:
when YOU have, YOU are a prisioner. As you have the Universe, you
are the Universe's prisioner, and the Universe is your prisioner.
Learn this one: having all in your hands means nothing, but
complete emptiness. The one having everything, is the emptiest
one.
No. Having means nothing. Being is what you need.
================================================================================
Note 148.7 THE FINAL CONDITION 7 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 40 lines 21-AUG-1989 05:29
-< The cycle of Life >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO VII
============
A subtle complicity is needed,
between the fisher and the fish.
The fisher needs a captured fish,
and the fish needs a capturing fisher.
War is a matter of mutual agreement,
for an agreement is needed before
two armies can ever fight against each other.
A subtle complicity is needed,
between the one about to die and Death.
And if you refuse to die,
you will stay with us,
until you finally agree,
to complete the perfect cycle of life.
I wouldn't mind dieing right now,
provided my eyes could stay,
looking at those mountains...
provided my lips could stay,
kissing those your lips,
providing my heart could stay,
beating as you approach to me.
I wouldn't mind arriving at the end,
completing the cycle of life...
... for even Death has an end,
a cycle to be completed.
That's why we here smile,
and arrange the rooms of our deads,
for we know some day they will return,
FOR EVEN DEATH HAS AN END.
================================================================================
Note 148.8 THE FINAL CONDITION 8 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 24 lines 22-AUG-1989 08:02
-< Transitions >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO VIII
=============
You sad because the ones you love have taken their leave?
We have not seen any candle sad, when its flame fades away,
and it turns into smoke.
Even the candle knows its goal is not illuminating forever.
Even the candle knows someday it must take its leave, too,
fading away and becoming the smoke in the air.
Even the smoke knows the wind will finally spread it
over the valleys till it melts with the clouds in the sky.
Don't be sad, a transition is always a step further, a new
state you must get thru. So stop weeping, my dear friend,
and watch the candle silently loving its becoming smoke.
Let's now fly lightwards,
to be the Sun, we both,
but not you.
================================================================================
Note 148.9 THE FINAL CONDITION 9 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 32 lines 22-AUG-1989 08:04
-< Breathless walk >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO IX
===========
It is SPACE that tells you your position in the world.
It is TIME that tells you if YOU ARE, YOU WERE, or if YOU WILL
BE.
It is GEOMETRY that lets you be what you are.
And when you sit in the highest peak, looking down the flow of
life, you see yourself being part of the flow, among things and
persons, related to everyone else, living with the others, doing
the same things, and speaking the same words.
And if you sleep, someone else lives for you. And if you die,
still will the life flow downwards... for a drop it is not the
river, and nobody can stop the river flowing down the valley, no
matter if there is no valley.
No matter if there is no river.
Learn this one: nobody will take care of you, for you take no
care of the others. And imagine you could stay with us again, when
we all become the dust in the roads.
FOR WE WILL WAITING FOR YOU TO JOIN US,
AND A RAINBOW WILL BE OUR HOME,
WHEN WE ALL CANDLES FINALLY BECOME SMOKE...
AND THE SMOKE VANISHES IN THE AIR...
THE AIR WE BOTH BREATH... AS IF BREATHING WERE
EVERYTHING WE ARE SUPPOSED TO DO!
================================================================================
Note 148.10 THE FINAL CONDITION 10 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 41 lines 22-AUG-1989 08:10
-< The day in which the Sun refuses to bright >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO X
===========
You need the meaning, but your eyes cannot see it. You do not
look at yourself, you simply take a look at yourself. You must
learn how to look, with new eyes, eyes seeing beyond the Sun,
with the moon in your eyes.
Being is not enough. You want to know WHERE YOU ARE.
Being here is not enough, you want to know WHERE WILL YOU BE
TOMORROW.
Knowing where you will be tomorrow is still nothing for you: you
want to know WHY. You want to know the meaning.
You want to know who you are, your position in this world, and
even if there is a chance to change it.
Every shadow belongs to someone.
Every moving shadow belongs to someone moving.
Every shadow needs the light to be a shadow.
That's why our pyramids are devoted to the Sun, the Sun that gives
us all our shadows, the shadows of life. And when the Sun moves,
our shadows move with it.
Learn this one: everytime the Sun brights, look for your shadow.
But never confuse your shadow with your body itself. That's what
many people do: they think they are alive because they see their
shadows, they think they are rich because they have their
shadows, they think they are powerful... because they command
their shadows.
The day in which the Sun refuses to bright, where will they all
be? What richness will they have? What power will they exert?
Be happy, my friend, for the man you envy has really no power on
you, but on your own shadow.
================================================================================
Note 148.11 THE FINAL CONDITION 11 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 34 lines 22-AUG-1989 08:12
-< You live in a stressing world >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XI
============
You live in a stressing world, day after day. You are forced to
choose, but the choices are not yours.
You are forced to do mechanic things, measured on a 24 hours
timeframe that you have accepted as your own timeframe.
And when you love, everybody expects you do it according to the
rules. Never break the rules. You can live with the rules. But
there will come a day in which one of the rules will be: let's
break the Sun.
And if you see the Sun reflected on a lake, you will destroy the
lake. And if the Sun hides behind a blue mountain, you will
destroy the mountain. And if the Sun still reflects on a river,
you will drain the river .
Be careful, for it could happen that the Sun reflects on your
eyes... will you then get your eyes out? And with your own
hands? Don't say no. We both know many people with no eyes...
they wanted to be right, rich and powerful. They wanted to
destroy the Sun. They even pulled out the eyes of those they
loved. They finally have pulled out their own eyes.
And as they see the Sun no more, they die thinking of themselves
they are right, rich, and powerful.
You live in a stressing world, day after day. You are forced to
choose. You know how to decide. But you still miss the reason
of your deciding.
================================================================================
Note 148.12 THE FINAL CONDITION 12 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 34 lines 22-AUG-1989 08:15
-< Truth is a cloud >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XII
============
Truth is a cloud that the wind of knowledge moves thru the sky
of life.
Your life is like a desert with no clouds, and no wind. That's
the worst of lifes: a routine life, an unimaginative life. Only
stupids can find that life wonderful and call it 'paradise'.
Your life is like a windy island. Strong winds blow all thru an
empty sky. And you live with the illusion your knowledge has a
meaning. But there are no clouds in your sky. That's why your
collection of books and titles move nothing, mean nothing.
Only stupids can find that life full of richness and they call
themselves 'craftmen' and 'wise men' and they are hunched up
in their labs writing equations and poems about light... and
still they have nothing to move.
Your life is like a stormy weather. Big black clouds fastly
moving over your head. And a terrible wind blowing. There you
are, in front of a brave sea, terrified and confused. That, my
friend, that's the real paradise: lots of questions nobody wants
to ask, lots of answers that you need. You alone in front of a
raging, wild, rough sea.
Truth is a cloud that the wind of knowledge moves thru the sky of
life. So don't worry about storms. Be you once in your life: look
at the clouds.
For every cloud thinks, chaos is a man that the confusion
moves... with no reason at all.
================================================================================
Note 148.13 THE FINAL CONDITION 13 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 19 lines 22-AUG-1989 08:17
-< The last kiss you cannot remember >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XIII
=============
So you think the falling leaves of the old tree are no more the
tree itself. So you think the waves in the sea are no more the
sea, and you still believe what you once was is no more you...
That's the first stumbling step for the kid: when you give a
step, and then a second one, what's worth if you have forgotten
the first one? What's the value of ten commandements if you can
hardly comply with even the first one? What's the value of your
caresses and kisses... if you only remember the last one? And
what's the value of all your progress if you have already
forgotten what's the goal you once headed towards?
No. You don't want to know how it works. You just need the
meaning.
================================================================================
Note 148.14 THE FINAL CONDITION 14 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 67 lines 22-AUG-1989 08:19
-< Images on a mirror >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XIV
============
If you thought I was talking to you about limitless spaces, about
timeless flights, about endless sunsets, you have not yet learnt
the meaning itself.
I was talking about you in the great cities, queuing
in the markets, the dirty rivers in which you throw your daily
rubbish, about your golden coins, and your swords and arrows,
about the temples in which you pray, about your living to work, all
your life, till you are old enough... so suddenly old... that
nobody cares about you feeling miserable... or cold...
About the education you keep giving your children, and the places
you go every morning, about the many things you simply do
because you was told to, about your stupid insistence on calling
love and happiness to those moments in life in which you are at
last alone with yourself... and you get bored of yourself...
About the books you have read by simply having a look at the
cover, about the music you hear, your sleepy movements in
bed, your face full of lies as a makeup, and the
mirrors you keep clean everyday... about your not feeling guilty
when you look at your bloody hands... they are only obeying
you... but you feel reluctant to accept that blood in your fingers.
No, of course I'm not blaming you. For God's sake, I'm not
pointing at you. I'm sure you've got good reasons to keep your
jail perfectly clean... you've got guests... I know.
You refuse to give a name to things. You feel happy by being
yourself at nights, when the only face around is your only face
in a faceless world. Even your dreams look like a videoclip, an
industrial unimaginative videoclip in which you are the hero...
This is also zen. The limitless spaces are only postcards to you,
landscapes you try to grasp thru imaginary trips... drugs operating as
amplifying lens throwing at your face your misery and
emptiness... with strange figures you are ready to hang on your
walls signed by famed painters... and the psychedelic imagery that
gives you the illusion of being different.
This, my friend, is also zen: black and white dreams, vomiting
and repulsive beings moving under your skin.
The storm is powerful: it bends to the ground your most solid
convictions. You are really grey, and still... I love you.
Your crime has a name, and a number, too. And it has a face,
YOUR OWN FACE. And your lies come out from lips... YOUR
OWN LIPS. So don't tremble like an innocent in the middle
of your own storm, you liked that way, and we are simply
giving life to your own nightmares.
And when you see the black horses of fire
crossing the sky, and stopping in front
of your door, and a horrible rider pointing
at you, do not close your eyes: it's YOU
the one he is looking for, the one he has
been told, the chosen.
You can always run, exhausted, and still he will find you.
You can always dream, and still he will find you.
You can always die... AND STILL HE WILL FIND YOU!!
================================================================================
Note 148.15 THE FINAL CONDITION 15 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 9 lines 22-AUG-1989 08:26
-< ---------------- >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[The manuscript here is not readable. In black ink, a different
hand has drawn a horizontal line. On the left side, ugarithic
letters seem to support the idea the Mongols did steal the manuscript,
although the fact only a minority of them could write and read suggest
it is more likely to be the marks of a copyst.
Next folio shows new marks in black ink, from a different hand.
The signs are Le' Fung dialect, Altaic Turkish written in Chinese
characters, which again points to Mongol sources]
================================================================================
Note 148.16 THE FINAL CONDITION 16 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 11 lines 23-AUG-1989 11:29
-< That's your sweet normality >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XV
===========
You have forgotten how to smile. That's normal. The sad thing,
the really sad thing... it's that you smile when you was supposed
to weep.
Take a rest. Get into bed. And get used to the smell of the
cemetery, for you will be soon breathing his air...
================================================================================
Note 148.17 THE FINAL CONDITION 17 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 21 lines 23-AUG-1989 11:29
-< Friends >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XVI
============
In the presence of light and time. When the matter is illuminated
and the clock starts running in a mathematic countdown, quantum by
quantum.
And someone plays the piano beside a crystal lake.
In the presence of light and time. And a new sunset fills your
tearful eyes. I know you are tired, you are very tired...
... of being pushed forward by everyone, of being measured every
second, of being carefully examined by anonimous watchers.
I know it. That's why I wish to be your friend, the friend you
can always turn to, make love with, being confident with. The
friend that gives away everything, and asks nothing in return,
like another you.
================================================================================
Note 148.18 THE FINAL CONDITION 18 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 11 lines 23-AUG-1989 11:30
-< In the middle of this emptiness >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XVII
==============
I violently wished you to come back. Even when I had lost you
forever. That you could see this sun and breath this air. This
fresh and renewed air that frees my heart, the feet on the wet
grass... like a present for simply being alive, being
abandoned... walking without you knowing I'm walking... in the
middle of this emptiness that you left.
================================================================================
Note 148.19 THE FINAL CONDITION 19 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 15 lines 23-AUG-1989 11:31
-< Landscapes as an explanation >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XVIII
==============
The blue evenings I look at with these my crepuscular eyes...
being laying over the sea, sitting on top of a tree...
looking at the blue evenings from a zenith of onix and white
marble.
And the last sunray illuminates my clean, white, clear face.
How much I would like those valleys I see be like the explanation
to everything!! How much I would like to understand everything!!
To know all!! To love all!!
================================================================================
Note 148.20 THE FINAL CONDITION 20 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 22 lines 23-AUG-1989 11:32
-< The Ape, The Man, and The Ant >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XIX
============
There he is: the Man. Looking at the ant. And he knows he will
never be able to reproduce such a wonder, such a thing,
reproducing life, replicating life.
That's why he loves the ant, the Man. He admires such a natural
wonder. But the ant does not obey his commands, and that
irritates the Man. He steps on it, so proud, so powerful.
There he is: the Ape... time and again refusing to be a Man,
destroying everyone not obeying him, not falling in his knees and
praying to him. Yes, there is a long way before you can
understand the mistery of life.
That is the reason why you prefer destroying life, stepping on
it: you are still the same old scared and frigthened ape I once
met in a dark cavern in Peshawar.
But I still love you.
================================================================================
Note 148.21 THE FINAL CONDITION 21 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 29 lines 23-AUG-1989 11:33
-< The rubbish bin yourself >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XX
===========
I told you before: being is not enough. You want to know where
you are.
But you are scared. Everyone does the same: thinking nothing
worth a life of struggle. You see, you have confused death with
sorrow, and struggle with hard worthless work. That's why your
dream is being in a Caribbean island, laying on the sand by a
beach, doing nothing, except drinking and eating exotic food. And
swimming, you are an excellent swimmer, no doubt. I have seen you
swimming on the dirty pipelines full of rubbish and shit... and
you always manage to think you are clean and smelling roses, just
because the others smell the way you do: rubbish hanging on your
lips, and you rub your eyes with dirty fingers when someone tell
you struggling is hard.
So you embrace Zen as something different, something that will
allow you a stressless sleep, self-control, and relief. But
before you can reach to Zen, my friend, there is something we
will ask you: come to us, but come free and clean.
And if you do not know where you are, we will tell you: you are
inside a rubbish bin, and you cannot get out...
... FOR YOU ARE THE RUBBISH BIN YOURSELF!
================================================================================
Note 148.22 THE FINAL CONDITION 22 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 29 lines 23-AUG-1989 11:38
-< In the presence of Light >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XXI
============
There are more incredible and fantastic things in the Universe
than what you have ever dreamt!
There are more terrible and dreadful sensations in you than you
have ever imagined!
And if you give me your hand, I can take you to unknown places
tonight... places of wonder beyond those stars, places you have
never seen before, riding on quasarains for an oceanight of
crystalights! Places you will need a whole life to know... and an
everlasting eternity to reach. Places where a myriad galaxies
explode into your eyes, where you will receive the perpetual
caress of endless gladness... and you will be laying by me...
under splendid marble moonspaces of joy and pleasure...
With no mysterious semblances, and no hidden doorscapes...
With no tears nor grief, with no sadness... but powerful glints
irradiating waves of tenderness...
And we will play the melody of Time,
in the presence of Light,
and we will glide over the flowing Matter,
we both, you and me...
... but not you...
================================================================================
Note 148.23 THE FINAL CONDITION 23 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 24 lines 23-AUG-1989 11:39
-< In the presence of Light (II) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XXII
=============
And yet you see, death is a delusion,
for it can never reach to us,
when we both create our garden of life...
We will never distinguish between the infinite dream
and a boundless darkness in unlimited spaces...
And if you once was scared of death and dusk,
it was because you loved lightness and brightness...
But did not love it so much, as to believe in you,
and in your inside force that defeats the glintless ocean
of coldness, beyond the freezing dusk
Now you know the mistery in you,
and you know its meaning:
Smile to darkness, for we can cross thru it...
... IN THE PRESENCE OF LIGHT!!
================================================================================
Note 148.24 THE FINAL CONDITION 24 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 15 lines 23-AUG-1989 11:40
-< The dream of the spider >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XXIII
==============
There is always a dream the spider has: she dreams of starting a
new webnet, creating a master piece, so well-designed, so
perfectly done, so in love she falls with her webnet...
... that she doesn't notice she is the prisioner
in her own webnet, trapped in the middle of it...
That's the feeling I get about you, when you talk to me about
your world of wonders. I always end with the feeling that you are
trapped in that world, my friend, like the spider in her dream.
================================================================================
Note 148.25 THE FINAL CONDITION 25 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 21 lines 23-AUG-1989 11:42
-< Swallows >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XXIV
=============
The swallow dreams of building his nest in the highest peaks, in
the highest tower, well beyond the Sun itself.
But two thousand years of experience always end in the same
tower, the same peaks, until a new swallow is born that believes
in height... and starts building his nest on top of the
clouds. And he succeeds.
What he cannot help is the other swallows looking at him with
envy, till nobody talks to him, till nobody wants to fly with
him, till everybody ignores him.
That's why, sometimes, you will feel yourself abandouned, left
alone in the middle of this emptiness. Don't worry, for I know
you built your nest over the clouds, in such a height that you
are no more a swallow, but a God among swallows...
================================================================================
Note 148.26 THE FINAL CONDITION 26 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 7 lines 23-AUG-1989 11:43
-< The worst of the noises >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XXV
============
This is also Zen: keep quite, even when being quiet is the worst
of the noises.
================================================================================
Note 148.27 THE FINAL CONDITION 27 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 36 lines 23-AUG-1989 11:44
-< Doors with no keys... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XXVI
=============
Remember this when you visit Ferghana: You've been to Ferghana.
And if they only know North, East, South, and West, they will
wear a cross in their necks.
But if they know also Sheol and Elam, they will wear a star of
David.
And if, besides, they also know Ashra, they will wear a Menorah
in their breast.
If they have fallen in love with the moon, they will also wear
the sign of the Half Moon.
And if you see them by the base of a pyramid, and inside the
pyramid you see a temple, and on the temple you see me smiling at
you... you have reached to where you wanted to go: the place
where strange geometries start, the place in which the Universe
converges, the place where a dream must be lived...
... somewhere in this world, there is a door open,
... somewhere in a desert, there is a key to close that
door, we built the key for you, but the door has been
always there. We located the place for you, and wrote
in a manuscript its location...
The sad thing, I told you before, it's that History
is being written by typists and data-entry operators,
and they know nothing about doors...
... nor about keys.
================================================================================
Note 148.28 THE FINAL CONDITION 28 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 31 lines 23-AUG-1989 11:46
-< You all >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SZENARIO XXVII
==============
You are not the only one living in this galaxy.
I have given you this vast spaces for you to explore,
for you to travel far away distances, for you to reach
to unknown places, for you to meet the other worlds...
I have given you memory for you to remember,
though in obscure dreams,
that you once was in the future,
that you once had a past, too.
That's why you are unquiet and unrestful,
when the dej? vu comes beside you,
and you weakly think of rincarnation...
You are not the only ones in this galaxy.
Though you all believe you are the only ones,
those beyond Cygnus and Nega,
and you, under the Sun.
What I really hate of you all,
is that you justify
your being scared of exploring
the outer worlds,
by simply stating it's worthless...
if, all in all, there is life beyond this life.
================================================================================
Note 148.29 THE FINAL CONDITION 29 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 20 lines 23-AUG-1989 11:52
-< The referenceless eyes of the deer >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I love the eyes of the deer,
the referenceless eyes of the deer...
when he faces the hunter,
behind a tree,
when they both look each other...
and their eyes fill with all the minutes
in their life...
when they both know
they have finally met,
the hidden fate,
and the end of that deadly game.
Emptiness inside both of them,
the triggering finger trembling,
and the falling deer...
How much I recall,
the referenceless eyes of the deer!!
================================================================================
Note 148.30 THE FINAL CONDITION 30 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 18 lines 25-AUG-1989 10:22
-< Travelling waves >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[MS British Museum Addenda, Ashrbc-345]
The cause and its many effects,
the limits to your unlimited world,
like the waves in a lake,
each of them wondering
the meaning of their wandering
across the surface of the lake.
And when they finally reach
the distant shore,
a little kid is sleeping...
... in his little hand, a stone.
================================================================================
Note 148.31 THE FINAL CONDITION 31 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 33 lines 25-AUG-1989 10:25
-< Rukopis I >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[MS British Museum Addenda, Permit 233, June 1988, No Fascimile Available]
This is a formidable land, where the Sun has killed the last leaf
of the last tree, where the wind blows constantly sweeping out
every grain of sand, destroying every rock, where the rain never
falls, except once in twenty years... and when it rains, it rains
so heavely, that no animal can live... and vast extensions get
flooded, under the burning Sun, turning the desert into a lake of
mud and corpses of those who dared coming so far...
This is a strange land, where the sky has no color, but all the
colors in one. Where the dunes move fastly incredible distances,
devouring everything as they travel...
And yet, I have built my home in the middle of this limitless
desert, for my only goal is prooving, life can stand the hardest
conditions, provided our will is strong enough, provided our will
to live is more powerful than this criminal burning Sun, that our
voice is louder than those terrible winds... that our tears are
more violent than those rains...
That's why I'm standing here, under the storm, and my eyes
sparkle like a thunder, and my heart beats for all of the hearts.
That's why, my friend, I can allow myself giving up a single
inch. It must be a man the one killing me, the one I'm scared of,
neither the Sun, nor the wind.
Only of you I'm scared, and when I hear the voices that the wind
brings to me, I always tremble...
... as I can clearly hear your voice coming to me.
================================================================================
Note 148.32 THE FINAL CONDITION 32 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "I need the meaning. Not how it works." 66 lines 25-AUG-1989 10:47
-< Archeologica >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[N.T.: Rukopis stands for "The illuminated"
in Pashtu, the language of Afghanistan.
Curiously, 'rukopis' is also Serbian, meaning
"written (pisan) by hand (ruk)" or
'manuscript'.
W. Lehfeldt states:
"It is not clear whether the author or authors
refer to a real desertic area in central
Asia. Judging from the description, it seems
to be one of the many deserts in that region.
We must bear in mind they always travelled by
camel, and a camel, not loaded with goods,
travels at 15 Kmh per hour. That means every
travel requiring more than 2 months by camel
was considred a 'limitless desert'".
B. Sethon argues that "... even taking into
consideration Lehfeldt's point of view, there
is no geographic indication that the author
of authors refer to any of the desert in
central Asia. Recent studies undertaken by
the University of Saarbr?cken indicate that
'only the central regions in Australia fit
into the description found in the
manuscript'".
My personal view, expressed in "Lecturas del
manuscrito de Rukopis", 1987, is as follows:
"Someone felt the need to write about a given
experience with has nothing to do with the
experiences we now go thru. This means that,
either we are able to mentally reproduce the
situation the author was living in or we will
be facing a new disaster, like the one Landa
faced trying to decipher the Maya
hieroglyphics or the nameless rubbish that
Dr. Kupper wrote about the Icelandic runes.
I myself find my own room a 'limitless
desert' every Friday, when my wife is out and
I feel alone. Thus, what it really matters is
the meaning for the author or authors of the
manuscripts, not what's true or false in
his/theirs descriptions".
Lehfeldt answered my argument by stating that
".. although R. Cerd?n's view of Rukopis
manuscript is well appreciated, I must still
insist the meaning is fairly unreachable, and
I would recommend focusing in a mere and
simple translation, with no additional
interpretation. What we need is knowing how
that ancestral society work, not its
meaning".
Of course, I did reply [April, 1988] with a
too much bitter article, the title of which
was "I NEED THE MEANING. NOT HOW IT WORKS".
I'm including that letter, for the sake of
clarity to what will follow].
================================================================================
Note 148.33 THE FINAL CONDITION 33 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 142 lines 24-OCT-1989 07:44
-< Technicalities at the HUJ >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I NEED THE MEANING. NOT HOW IT WORKS.
Dear Sir,
The fact we only live a limited span of life
seems to be a burden for our existence.
The fact the things we experience belongs
exclusively to us, but can be transmitted,
except for life itself, seems to worry you
becoming an unbearable sack in your back.
I find 'human' your wish to know the past,
as I find admirable our efforts to understand
everything in the Universe, and the Universe
itself. I, too, try to learn every second
of my existence, and I really mean it. I
would be the happiest man in this planet if
I could read the many books written, the
whole philosophy, the music of life.
Sometimes I dream I am Bach, or that I
will win a Nobel Prize in Biology, or
that I will design an advanced computer
that will give me all the answers I need.
I am a kid who wishes to play with God
in a garden, who wishes to travel in time,
who wishes to know *all*. And if I did not
choose a particular science to satisfy my
many doubts, that is because something inside
me leads me to everywhere, everytime. I am
interested in all, from the tiny quark to
the biggest quasar; from the strangest extinct
language, to the most advanced development in
medicine. And every time I find a book, I spend
hours reading it... no matter the contents,
no matter the time.
Yes. I also weep sadly... when I realize the
limited capacity of my brain, and the scarce
time left. I also feel sad, the most miserable
man on Earth, when I fail to understand the simplest
of the facts. I have learnt things in the books,
but also in the streets. I have travelled all
over the world, and I can stick myself in front
of the TV watching the latest photograph of the
Voyager.
I am fascinated with life, despite the fact
I know someday I will leave, and many questions
will be left unanswered. You can call me a generalist,
and you can call me a 'freak'. You can applaud my
efforts, and still smile at my struggling against
these doubts. You can call me an idealist, and
you can add my ideals are my jail. I am still
fascinated with life, with every ray coming from
the Sun. I am a man who wanted to embrace the ocean,
and got sunk in a river.
You can simply state I never became a grown-up.
Still I want to be a kid. I also need to believe
in reincarnation, not just to overcome death,
but to feel myself satisfied with the chance to
keep learning, and learning, till everything
is learnt. And even if you ask me the reason
for this impelling need to learn, I have an answer:
even that MUST BE LEARNT!
No, I do not wish talking to God, but God
talking to me. I do not want to see a miracle:
I am a miracle myself. I am the wonder in me,
I am an explanation and an answer myself.
I want to fall into a blackhole, and travel
to distant worlds. I am searching, you see,
for finding is my goal. You can criticize my
limited existence: I will never oppose.
I want to read what is written. I want to
feel it myself. You told me once I was to
focus on productive areas for science; you
told me the will to learn is remarkable, and
you recommended me not to pursue tortuous
paths, but to follow the 'mainstream'.
Your cerebral chemistry is fascinanting. Your
deductive databases is what I need. Your latest
develoments in quantum mechanics keep me
busy for a whole life. Reading your philosophies
and religions almost made me blind. And I still
must cope with daily life, going to work to earn
my money, and being 'normal' as we all. Yes,
there is always new, something missing, something
left. I have been in your wars, and I have suffered
your stock exchange fluctuations, too. I have been
ill, as we all, and I have made the correct mistakes.
I am as expected: I am another one like you.
I also met the miseries, and I felt down many
times. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be
better not worrying too much. If there is an
Universe, and I am part of it, maybe it is
true a part can never comprehend the whole.
But let me tell you something, something I
wanted to tell: if I am just a man... I need
to know what that means. And if I weren't,
even then I need to know what that means.
I want to know this life, and all possible
lives. And I suffer a lot, for I am forced
to do things I do not believe in: sitting
in front of my terminal, talking to people
I do not know, but, above all, forced not to
express my inner worlds. You say with contempt
I should better go to Tibet.
Thanks for the recommendation but, in any case,
I will bring Tibet to your home. And if you
do not mind, I will dress you with an orange
robe. I have the chance rushing into next corner
shop, buy a little bronze statue and award myself
with a prize. Or I can simply visit a psychiatrist
to explain for me my trouble. Immaturity could be
the name of my disease.
I do not believe me Napoleon... yet.
I will keep working on the manuscripts, as many
others did before. And if you do not like my
interpretation of them, you have always the
possibility to skip the pages of the Herald.
Finally, not, I do not write under the effects
of LSD... I am the LSD myself.
Rub�n Cerd?n,
Hebrew University of Jerusalen.
================================================================================
Note 148.34 THE FINAL CONDITION 34 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 34 lines 24-OCT-1989 09:26
-< )-|-( >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
)-|-(
-----
You are the message itself that someone else
is to interpret. The sender left you alone,
and the receiver is still waiting for you.
The messenger is unknown, that is the mystery
for both the sender and the receiver, for
even the message, itself.
The lights of the sender has a sign in it:
-(
The ones of the receiver has another sign in it:
)-
The messenger has its sign, too:
)-|-(
And the message, of course, has also its sign:
-|-
The idea is two lights try to communicate. They
do it thru a world, and the messenger is carrying
its endless message thru cold spaces, filling
your sky with their lights. Never fear the lights
in the sky: for you are the message to be delivered,
for someone to interpret.
================================================================================
Note 148.35 THE FINAL CONDITION 35 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 20 lines 24-OCT-1989 09:30
-< -*- >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
RAS AL GHETTI
-------------
The distance means nothing, neither
the departure point nor the arrival
one. The time you take to cover the
distance is also meaningless.
The reason for the travel is also a
trivial one, and even the passengers,
for this is an empty travelling light.
Ours is an archeological research visit,
we are here to know. We are not allowed
to interfere.
This is a meaningless world: that is
why it will last forever, that is why
there is no travel at all.
================================================================================
Note 148.36 THE FINAL CONDITION 36 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 20 lines 24-OCT-1989 09:32
-< TER >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
WORLDS OF TER
-------------
I was told to bring back with me something
from Ter.
We consider the worlds different wavelengths
of the same place. That is why travelling is
meaningless. In fact, we hardly move.
It is time what changes.
Thus, I cannot bring back with me anything,
for every quark in it oscillates with the
wavelength of the place to where it belongs.
That is why travelling does not exist.
That is why we are not visitors, but
inhabitants ourselves.
================================================================================
Note 148.37 THE FINAL CONDITION 37 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 21 lines 24-OCT-1989 09:34
-< SIGNLESS >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SIGNLESS
--------
You wonder why we do not show to you.
We are the messenger: we are not the
receiver.
You will have your space to meet: you
will be read.
It is a known risk: may be the receiver
will not understand the message, or may be
the message is unclear.
But that concerns the writer and the receiver
themselves. No messenger is allowed to modify
the message, not the contents.
Our kingdom is not from this world.
But the message, too, is not from this world.
================================================================================
Note 148.38 THE FINAL CONDITION 38 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 27 lines 24-OCT-1989 09:36
-< Numbers >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
33 YEARS OLD, 7 COLORS
----------------------
Three is the number, and seven the walls.
Seven days takes a travel, seven colors
for seven planets.
Seven are the receivers, and seven the
senders. Ours is a seven-arm menorah.
UUU
UUUUU
T
Three are the times in which you were,
you are, and you will be. And three is
the triangle.
Three are the ones: the sender, the messenger,
and the receiver.
Do not worry:
You have another time and space, as well.
================================================================================
Note 148.39 THE FINAL CONDITION 39 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 16 lines 24-OCT-1989 09:37
-< Why we left you alone >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE ONLY THING YOU DID NOT WANT TO LEAVE
----------------------------------------
Never fear the lights in your sky.
You have also your chariot of fire.
It is a long trip, so leave in your
world everything you own. Go naked,
as you came. Leave behind everything
you've got.
And never ask me how is that we left
you alone. Even when in the Cross.
YOU MUST GO ALONE.
================================================================================
Note 148.40 THE FINAL CONDITION 40 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 19 lines 24-OCT-1989 09:38
-< Quite flow >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
QUITE FLOW
----------
We will certainly return to thee, in the day of evil.
We will come back to establish the harmony, and the
quite flow between both ends.
Sometimes we will return as the evil itself.
And you will tremble, terrified.
You make the questions,
and they provide the answers.
We only carry with us the message.
And we will come from the future,
and we will come from the past,
And we are even among you all, now.
================================================================================
Note 148.41 THE FINAL CONDITION 41 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 22 lines 24-OCT-1989 09:39
-< )-|-( >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
)-+-(
They are not written in the books of Israel,
for ours is not a written message.
Three are the quarks, and seven the stars.
They will send the messenger before thee.
But you will not see him.
They will come to you dressed in white,
and from the lights they will come out,
and they will show you the numbers,
and they will teach how to read the message.
Never fear the lights in the sky.
They have come again to talk to you,
to show you the meaning.
Not how it works.
================================================================================
Note 148.42 THE FINAL CONDITION 42 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 36 lines 24-OCT-1989 09:41
-< The Map >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE MAP
-------
They gave us a map. And we have found you.
Strange loops rule your minds.
Yours is a wonderful planet, and you are
the wonders in it. Yours is the world of tav,
as the Esenites taught, as is written in
Harr?n.
Your thoughts emerge like endless columns,
and you dream of yourselves: there is no
reincarnation, but a limitless return.
There is no movement backwards or forwards,
but pure immanation.
You are part of a plan, which is not written
in your books. Thus you master the secrets,
and it helps pointing out beyond the Sun and
saying: outter spaces will bring the message
to us.
Still you build pyramids, and you fear the
lights in the sky.
Still you stand on top of your temples,
and you pray to the Sun. Yours is a wonderful
deed, and a feverish search.
He who search will find, if you do not
fear the answers, neither the message,
nor the lights in the sky.
================================================================================
Note 148.43 THE FINAL CONDITION 43 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 35 lines 24-OCT-1989 09:43
-< Parrallel Paths Never Cross >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
KNOWLEDGE WITHIN THE NUMBERS
----------------------------
Twelve is your number, but you missed one.
They are also searching, and you will finally
meet.
The House of Bread was your departure.
But parallel paths never cross,
that is why we helped you building The Cross.
|
___|___
|
|
Seven is your number, but three times seven is life.
(.
)
(
.)
Three are the cosonants, with which you can write
your name. And three are the times that you can be.
One is all, but the message is one. All is the
message, the message in all.
)-|-(
================================================================================
Note 148.44 THE FINAL CONDITION 44 of 44
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 43 lines 24-OCT-1989 09:44
-< The Day >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You asked me with darkness, and I gave
you light as an answer.
Life is not answer, but a question itself.
Death is not an end, but a means itself.
Cross the door that I show you,
walk the path that extends before your eyes.
Carry the burden of existence, that I am
offering you now.
The day will come in which you will be
completely alone, but you will not notice it,
for you have been alone for too much time.
The day will come in which you will face
my eyes, and you will be scared, for you
have never seen my face.
The day will come in which every doubt will
be explained, every question answered,
every answer explained, every explanation
felt, and every feeling fully experienced.
The day will come in which the light will
bright in front of your trembling chest,
illuminating your space and time, and I
will show you my face, giving you the message
that you will give to your sons... and the
cycle will end... for every theory will
become completed... and all the conditions met.
What you have experienced as yours, yours will
remain.
And in the circle of fire I will be burning
a fish, and you will come to me naked, and
we will have another secret talk:
It was a sad day the one I left: and it
will be the saddest day when I will return.
17 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES
================================================================================
Note 150.0 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 20 replies
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 11 lines 25-OCT-1989 05:15
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SYMPHONY "THE SWEET ABNORMALITY"
FOR A NOT YET BUILT PIANO AND A DEAD SINGER
OPUS 455: RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES
He saw a rose in the desert. But thought the
desert was an optical effect due to starvation.
================================================================================
Note 150.1 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 1 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 32 lines 25-OCT-1989 05:17
-< Safest Places >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He didn't like Sturm und Drang. He didn't like problems,
miscalculations, mistakes, uncertainties, seamful walls, moving
sands under his feet.
He was hell-bent decided to plan everything, at least to plan
those things that were reasonable to be planned. That way, he
took a book about Singapur and Israel, and organized his internal
world accordingly. First, he isolated five internal security
areas:
- Economy
- Defense
- Culture
- Sex
- Psicology
Then, he established his own constitution, reading something
like: "I need my internal psicological stability based on a
sounded economic situation being able to fund my cultural needs
on which to base my life. Thru a balanced psicoaffective
relationship based on sex and communication, I will get that
psychological stability that will allow me to face more
challenges at work to thus increase my economic situation and
guarantee growth, prosperity, and strength".
Those words he always repeated to himself. He took much care in
fostering his knowledge, both technical, and spiritual. He
thought fight, care planning, work, and love will suffice to
create the paradise he was looking for. And sure it did.
================================================================================
Note 150.2 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 2 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 24 lines 25-OCT-1989 05:20
-< Planned Economy >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At twenty five, he was able to speak about Tartessos and the
Greek dialects with no problem, switching then to the most
advanced astrophisical and mathematical concepts. That knowledge
soon made of him a good assett for any company. He found a good
job in a computer company as a consultant in AI, both thank to
his knowledge of psychology and his being familiar with the most
intrincate aspects of computers.
The money he earned every month was carefully invested in his
five areas of interest; a 20% was devoted to buy more books about
History, Archeology, and Music that he devoured at night. Another
20% was devoted to increase his knowledge about computers,
advanced information systems, and methodologies. A 15% was
invested in what he labeled as "Defense". This caption included
investing money in the stock exchange as a way to save enough
money to face what he called "defense operations". The remaining
45% of his earnings was used to cope with the daily tasks that
life brings together: food, clothing, car, housing...
Of course, a calculated amount was devoted to entertainment and
health care. That was his little Singapur and his mighty Israel.
He was decided to fight with the best means at hand.
================================================================================
Note 150.3 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 3 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 17 lines 25-OCT-1989 05:23
-< All Day Rider >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No. He was not a yuppie. He was perfectly aware of the danger of
becoming an "all-day-rider".
"There are powerful countries in the world" he thought, "but mine
is a multiracial, highly developed, spiritually-oriented little
one. I must keep on learning, reading, travelling. And I must
keep on working hard to get enough money to fund those travels
and books. Also, I must take care of my body if I do not wish
ending in a wheel-chair; and, of course, I must keep a balanced
human relationship with a woman I love if I am to keep my brain
under control. Yes, I need to watch out in the dark, for a
country like mine has many enemies outside".
There he was: a seamless fortress inside of which poets and
warriors were but one single being.
================================================================================
Note 150.4 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 4 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 25 lines 25-OCT-1989 05:27
-< Difficult Proximities >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She was a young beautiful girl. Her independence was really
agressive. Even if she was only drinking in a caf�, everyone
could detect how strong she was, how sure she felt of herself.
She knew perfectly well her strong points and took care everybody
notices them. Also, she knew what her weaknesses were and
struggled every minute to overcome those deficiencies. She was
working in a computer company being in charge of the financial
operations for the whole company in Europe. She was constantly
travelling to distant places, and this allowed her to meet many
intersting people. She was used to sleep in Frankfurt one night,
have a dinner with someone in Milan, and then come back to
Geneve.
She was attractive, what means she was the kind of woman to
which you first look at the face, and then you start analyzing
till your eyes meet hers... and you feel intimidated.
Her world was clearcut: liers were the worst kind of garbage-
worms on Earth.
She wanted to be appreciated by what she knew and thought about
life, not by what she had, but by what she was and could be.
================================================================================
Note 150.5 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 5 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 19 lines 25-OCT-1989 05:29
-< Sch�nberg vs. Stravinsky >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They met on a meeting in Montecarlo, something about expert
systems applications for the finance industry. He was presenting
his company's product. She was representing her company.
He talked about expert systems comparing them to the first
compositions of Sch�nberg: "something not yet totally finished,
but something conveying that combination of beauty and power that
made Stravinsky hate it, but imitate it".
She asked if, by any chance, "your expert system was not
a miope dilettante trying to simulate Sch�nberg first
compositions but sounding like Stravinsky at the age of 3". The
whole room laughed. He showed himself calm, put a slide on the
projector and answered "Sure you know only a child can recognize
the music composed by another child...".
And there finished the first meeting they held.
================================================================================
Note 150.6 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 6 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 13 lines 25-OCT-1989 05:31
-< Frozen Mud Divertimento For Mandollina >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Resistiremos al empuje violento de las tormentas en los bosques,
como las encinas que a esos vientos se resisten a caer, aunque
sea fuerte la tormenta... aunque no halla encinas.
Seremos como encinas que de cara al viento resisten con el rostro
empapado en agua, bajo los truenos estremecedores, que se doblan
para no caer y que bajo un cielo de nubes terribles todav�a creen
en un sol a�n por salir.
Aunque el viento sea eterno y el sol inexistente. Aunque no halla
encinas o aunque estas ya est�n tendidas sobre el helado suelo.
================================================================================
Note 150.7 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 7 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 9 lines 25-OCT-1989 05:33
-< IEEE Jerks >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She went back to the hotel. A little hurt due to the fact that
another "starswar" clown had thrown at her face another stupid
joke on computers. No, she didn't like her job. She only knew she
needed the job.
And nobody can love what gives us life without ever asking
whether that pleases us or not.
================================================================================
Note 150.8 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 8 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 21 lines 25-OCT-1989 05:47
-< Empty Album of Photographs >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He didn't go to his hotel. He preferred walking along the harbour
of Montecarlo. He wanted to see the Royal Palace and take some
photographs. He got his Canon XSF with him, the best machine in
the market.
Yes, he could take good photographs of everything and everyone.
But no one could take him a picture. For he was alone, as he had
always been. And that was the biggest sadness for him.
"What's the use of a powerful camera like this if I've got no one
to share the pictures with me? To whom am I to show the pictures
I take? And what's more... why do I need lots of pictures of
myself... always alone? Why do I need to torture myself with
empty photographs?
His little Singapur trembled inside, and his personal Israel took
a quick decision: it was night already when he threw his
expensive camera down to the sea, from the Ludwig XIV bridge.
================================================================================
Note 150.9 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 9 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 16 lines 25-OCT-1989 05:49
-< Hotel Rooms Like Jails >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She was making a tour thru the hotel TV. Pressing channel 1, then
channel 12, then channel... "Jeez!! I'm gonna get crazy in this
jail!!" she said. "Need a walk, fresh air" she mumbled.
She dressed up. Switched off the TV and got out of the hotel. Her
company had rented a BMW for her, so she drove to the harbour,
where she wanted to get a view at the yatchs. She parked the car
in front of the line, seeing the moon completely full swingling
over the purple sea.
There she was, unsatisfied, with the two doors wide open looking
as a mad to the moon without taking care of a photograph camera
floating over the surface of the sea...
================================================================================
Note 150.10 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 10 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 23 lines 25-OCT-1989 05:53
-< Easy Distances >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He was terribly tired again. "Climbing up 300 stairs is really
crazy if the only thing you get is a view of a bored guard with a
ridiculous dress at the main door of an old-fashioned palace..."
he thought. "I'll be back at the hotel to prepare tomorrow's
presentation..." he said.
But a BMW with the doors wide open in front of the sea grabbed
his attention. "Jesus! Monaco's luxury is really a waste of
golden rain. Those people think a BMW can take them up to the
moon".
He walked towards the car, slowly. He got see the figure of a
woman inside. "Nice!" he thought. And speeded up towards the car.
Suddenly, he stopped. "No, I think's better going back and have a
quick dinner before going to bed. I'm really tired".
He turned back on his heels and went away. Finally, the camera
sunk down to the depths of the harbour.
And nobody noticed it.
================================================================================
Note 150.11 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 11 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 16 lines 25-OCT-1989 05:55
-< No Face Reflected >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She closed the doors and started up the car. She took a look at
the mirror, and found her own face looking at the mirror...
She thought for a while of going round the city, and the curve
where the Queen Grace fatally died appeared on her mind. She
drove towards the place, a curvy road over Montecarlo, with an
impressive view of the bay at night. She was driving fast,
looking from time to time outside the windows of the car,
identifying the Casino lights, the main avenues, the Palace on
a hill. "I guess Grace was lucky. Having an accident when driving
thru the paradise must be really ununderstandable, even for God".
She smiled. But the mirror reflected no smile at all, but the
face that a little ago was looking at the mirror...
================================================================================
Note 150.12 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 12 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 14 lines 25-OCT-1989 05:57
-< Taxi Duetto >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I should knew. I'm not very fond of walking. I should take a
taxi, one of those sophisticated Mercedes the people use over
here. Yes, will take a taxi." he thought. He approached a taxi
in front of a jewelry. Talked with the man in French.
The man thought for a while and then opened the back door.
"Iu m�n d� c�gve wherr d� Queen cragshed hegg cag, Sig?" asked
again the man with a strong french accent. "Yes, the curve. Take
me to the curve, please.".
And the car started moving.
================================================================================
Note 150.13 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 13 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 20 lines 25-OCT-1989 05:59
-< Oceanight >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She finally decided to stop the car. Got out and took a look to
the marvellous electric view of the city. "There must be one
million tiny lights all of them brighting" she thought while
looking all around from a rock. "Yes. One million lights
illuminating the sea". Far away, on the horizon, a train of
lights started moving and a whole ocean of glints was slowly
emerging. "The ships..." she said.
"I always wanted to live in a ship, sailing at night, with no
visibility... going North by East... North by East" she repeated.
The stars melted with the lights in a wonderful dance. And the
wind was blowing thru her hair. She didn't notice it, but one of
those millions lights faded away in the distance.
Nobody cared, for it was impossible to distinguish one tiny light
among the ocean of luminous drops brighting.
================================================================================
Note 150.14 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 14 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 14 lines 25-OCT-1989 06:02
-< Let There Be Darkness!!! >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Now what?" asked him. The man was trying to start the car up
unsuccessfully. "Soggy, Sig, d� cag is brgoken".
"Okay, okay, the fucking car is broken. And what are going to do
here with no lights? Can't you call your peers by radio?" asked
him pointing at the radio.
"Oh! No, Sig, rgadio needs electrgicity to worgk. We haff no
electrgicity now". He got out the car furious. "An electric
failure. Right in front of me there are thousands of thousands of
lights and the fucking taxi gets out of electricity. Jeez!"
================================================================================
Note 150.15 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 15 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 13 lines 25-OCT-1989 06:04
-< )-+-( [How you look from my place] >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She entered the car, with a feeling she has never felt before,
with thoughts she never thought before. She was giving form to
her ideas about the herself, descending to a world she has never
before dared to descend.
"I do not want to know how the Universe is, how I am. I need to
know the meaning of what I am. The meaning , that's what I
need."
She didn't notice it, but two tiny lights started brighting
joining the ocean of glints.
================================================================================
Note 150.16 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 16 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 14 lines 25-OCT-1989 06:07
-< Let There Be Light! >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And as the car advanced thru tortuous roads, above the city, he
was looking in the distance the flow of lights, red lights of
cars going away, yellow lights of cars coming.
And he kept staring at two yellow lights approaching the taxi
slowly. The coming car passed by his seat and he could guess the
face of the driver, like a vision in a nebolous winter morning,
not totally visible, not totally abstract. The face containing
big eyes of someone which the look of the one who has finally
found what he was looking for... although very late in life...
too much late in life.
================================================================================
Note 150.17 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 17 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 12 lines 25-OCT-1989 06:08
-< Meeting in a Road >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She didn't look at the taxi. She only passed by, as she always
did in life. She was always passing by places, by people, like a
cloud being pushed by the wind, with no resistance, and no
special destination.
She parked the car in front of the casino, where expensive cars
where all in a row, with the couples inside stupidly smiling each
other. "Every stupid deserves a smile" she thought, "and if he
is stupid enough, perhaps a wild night with a suitable cretin
will be his paradise!".
================================================================================
Note 150.18 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 18 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 13 lines 25-OCT-1989 06:10
-< He saw a rose... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He instructed the taxi driver to turn back to the city. He saw
the ships in the distance and felt free for a second. The
sensation was growing inside, that something could still be found
in that bright night.
But the sound of the taximeter was an offense. "I wonder how can
a fucking taximeter keep working with such a marvellous view..."
he thought.
"Take me to the casino" he said. And the car turned back down
thru the winding road.
================================================================================
Note 150.19 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 19 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 17 lines 25-OCT-1989 06:11
-< Casinoisy Places >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The taxi stopped near the main entry, where a row of expensive
cars were all patiently waiting for their owners to get out of
the casino.
"This is the casino, Sir" said the taxi driver. "Okay, this is
the place. How much is it?" he asked. The taxi driver had a look
to the taximeter. "800 francs, Sir".
He got out the car and approached the main entry. Someone was
waiving to him from inside a BMW he could recognize. "Oh! It's
you again! Waiting someone to have a look inside?" he asked.
"No, just having a look. You alone?" she asked. "Yes. I've been
spinning around to have a look at the city. Nice a place. May I
come in?"
================================================================================
Note 150.20 RACHEL ON THE BRIDGES 20 of 20
MDRLEG::RUBEN "Another visceral Mediterranean..." 21 lines 25-OCT-1989 06:12
-< Pax >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They were both inside the car. After a couple of silly statements
about the car, the meeting, and Montecarlo, they both kept
looking each other.
For some reason he couldn't tell, she looked to him very
exciting. The lips of the woman, the blue neon light on her hair,
the fresh air thru the window... everything recalled him the
ships in the distance.
She couldn't tell how long they have been talking before he asked
her to have dinner with him. She was amazed by a new skill she
was now testing: she was able to keep a normal conversation and
still analyze the face of the man, his black eyes exploring hers,
his lips strangely dancing, and his hair under the glints of the
casino lights. She was feeling very fine for the first time since
a long time.
That was the reason why she started the car up when he simply
started proposing having dinner together.
18 There is a forest in every leaf
================================================================================
Note 151.0 There is a forest in every leaf 4 replies
ISIDRO::CERDAN 122 lines 3-NOV-1989 08:26
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Friends,
I am leaving DEC next Monday morning, which
is not dramatic, anyway. But I am also leaving
the forest, which is really a shock for me...
A complicated combination of economic, personal,
and intellectual reasons led me to take this
decision a week ago.
From the professional point of view, a grey
horizon here forces me to explore new paths
in language engineering and natural language
processing outside the company. From the
personal point of view, a certain disappointment
with the daily increasing burocracy and
'imp?sse' makes life here difficult.
From the intellectual point of view, I need
to get out the mainstream of tasks, routines,
mechanical life... Too hard doing the same
8 hours a day with the mere reason of coping
with life, earning money, coming back home
late in the evening, saying hello to my wife
(or was it a wild roar??), having dinner
together we both (the TV and me...), going
to bed and, at daybreak, starting the whole
thing again.
I have started my University course:
Biblical Philology, which comprises Biblical
Hebrew, Old Greek, Latin, Aramaic, and Moabite.
The course, a 5-year period, is focused on
understanding the culture of ancient and
extinct civilizations, from Chaldean to
Babylonian. It is a challenge and I am
really excited about it. But is not a mere
way of breaking the circle in which I have
been living for a long time; rather, I feel
my heart wanting to know how to read life
beyond the daily inert messages of a bank
invoice, a traffic jam, or queuing in the
supermarket to get a piece of cheese or
fruit.
And finally, I want to have a kid next
August, and that means a lot for my wife
and myself. Oh yes, many plans, another
turn to new forests, and some slight doubt
on whether my disappointment will still
increase further or not.
But before leaving, I wanted to tell you all
all this time here with you has been the
most interesting experience since I joined
the company. I mean it: the possibility of
making friends despite the fact the only thing
from which you start is a node name, colon
colon, and your names. That's the real challenge:
no need to use the image, the visual impact,
the brainwashing messages... but a sincere
communication thru the network, that strange
technical device that is intended for communication,
but the most of the time is used to disguise
one's own frustrations.
No, I am not criticizing the life I have
found, and I do not want to change anything,
but the people I meet... and myself. I do
not believe this is the best life we have,
and surely it is not the only one. It is
the people what worries me, the fact that
approaching the humans one by one is discovering
a Universe of experiences, but the deep
contradiction of finding emptiness when you
approach the 'people', all of them together,
and you in... like everybody else.
Sometimes I wrote things about what I have
seen, heard, or simply dreamt. But, in any
case, I only wanted to communicate with you,
and that is really the heart of the matter:
you all made possible a forest in the middle
of a desert, or is it that I have the desert
in my eyes? I cannot hear your voices, not
even seeing your shadows. The electronic
system we use is even more cruel: it
'uniformizes' our writings... I cannot know
*how* you write, but how you *type* at the
keyboard... but it's the only bridge we have
(that's a clue for my last tale!!).
Interesting, all this time living a dream
in which I fail to see the faces, your faces,
and still have the remembrance of a nice
and wonderful dream when I wake up. I have
printed all your entries here, for that's the
only material 'gift' I have brought with me
from the dream. My wife works also for DEC.
She (Carmen) is reachable at MDRA1::CARMENALVARE
or "Carmen Alvarez@SQO", just in case you
need something from this side of the galaxy.
Yes, she also accesses the Notes, so she will
keep me up-to-date with 'Forest News'...
It's been a great pleasure sitting with you
around the fire, singing songs, chatting,
drinking your wine, and having a walk under
the trees.
And I will be sitting on top of a tree,
seeing your shadows, listening to your voices,
and smiling:
There is a forest in every leaf of a tree.
Your friend,
Rub�n.
================================================================================
Note 151.1 There is a forest in every leaf 1 of 4
HPSCAD::DDOUCETTE "Outdate the automobile in 25 Years" 13 lines 3-NOV-1989 08:51
-< Humanity >> Technology >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Best of luck Rub�n in following your path of life. May we cross paths
again, possibly bumping face to face. Continue to grow.
The keyboard can be as limiting and limitless as a painter's palette. We
may be restricted in our expressions, our means of conveying ideas, but the
spark of life shines in each of us. That light shines brighter in the
words you write than the glowing letters on the screen.
The medium is worthless, the value is ideals.
Peace,
Dave
================================================================================
Note 151.2 There is a forest in every leaf 2 of 4
ERIS::CALLAS "Hey, heads we dance?" 3 lines 7-NOV-1989 12:02
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Best of luck to you.
Jon
================================================================================
Note 151.3 There is a forest in every leaf 3 of 4
LEDS::BATES "In excelsis" 18 lines 10-NOV-1989 09:55
-< Adios >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ruben:
You are setting out on a journey across new terrain - deserts,
mountains, oases await you on your path to fulfillment. You will see
it all with the eyes of a poet-adventurer, and I wish it were possible
to read what you will be writing.
My experience has been enriched by what you have given me here in the
Cabin - I think of you and your words often, and have incorporated some
of your images into my personal mythology, as I have done with the
words and thoughts of Wallace Stevens, Thomas Mann, James Joyce, and
others. I will miss you...
Vaya con Dios
Love - and a tear or two of goodbye
Gloria, and Ariel, and Hedonia
================================================================================
Note 151.4 There is a forest in every leaf 4 of 4
NWD002::LOUGH_BR "Mystic rhythms" 20 lines 6-DEC-1989 10:58
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
< Note 151.0 by ISIDRO::CERDAN >
� Your friend,
�
� Rub�n.
How true. And though considerable time has pasted since your initial
post, I hope that this finds you in your new life.
So long, Rub�n, and best of luck on this new adventure. Though the
source of the well from which you drew inspiration for some of your
writings here remains an intriguing mystery, your words themselves
provoked thoughts in my few have. For that, and the opertunity to at
least know you in this medium, I thank you.
Take care, friend.
Brian
19 Letter from Ruben
================================================================================
Note 153.0 Letter from Ruben 5 replies
ERIS::CALLAS "The Global Village is a small town" 42 lines 28-FEB-1990 11:01
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Here's a note I got from Ruben:
Jon
P.S. I'm far too busy to send him the current stuff. I'm somewhat sorry
to say that, but it's true. If someone else will send him things, that
would be nice. It would also be nice to put a note here so poor Ruben
doesn't get bombarded with a dozen copies of everything. -- jdc
From: DECPA::"RCERDAN@ESOC.BITNET" "MAIL-11 Daemon" 28 February '90 2:07 am
To: callas@eris.
CC:
Subj: Regards!
Date: 28 February 1990, 08:02:52 SET
From: RCERDAN at ESOC
To: callas@eris.
Hello Jon,
Just wanted to say hello to all cabiners and get some news
about how is the cabin doing. Please, give my regards to
you all. I am now working for the European Space Agency here
in Germany... and no, they know nothing about forests or
cabins!!!
I'm reachable at RCERDAN@ESOC (bitnet/interbit).
Would be great if someone sends me the latest entries!!!
Regards!
Rubenightspace.
======= Internet headers and postmarks (see DECWRL::GATEWAY.DOC) =======
Received: by decpa.pa.; id AA05103; Tue, 27 Feb 90 23:07:27 -0800
Received: from ESOC.BITNET by CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU (IBM VM SMTP R1.2.2MX) with BSMTP id 2447; Wed, 28 Feb 90 02:05:59 EST
Date: Wed, 28 Feb 90 08:07:16 SET
To: callas@eris.
From: RCERDAN@ESOC.BITNET
Comment: CROSSNET mail via SMTP@INTERBIT
Subject: Regards!
================================================================================
Note 153.1 Letter from Ruben 1 of 5
ERIS::CALLAS "The Global Village is a small town" 4 lines 28-FEB-1990 11:05
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I also set up mail forwarding on ERIS so that if you send to
ERIS::RUBEN, then the mail will be properly forwarded to him.
Jon
================================================================================
Note 153.2 Letter from Ruben 2 of 5
HPSCAD::DDOUCETTE "Innovation: Simplicity in Creativity" 3 lines 1-MAR-1990 11:39
-< I'll take care of 152.* >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'll send him "The Ride of your life"...
Dave
================================================================================
Note 153.3 Letter from Ruben 3 of 5
HPSCAD::DDOUCETTE "Innovation: Simplicity in Creativity" 27 lines 4-MAR-1990 14:38
-< failed mail >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I just tried to send mail...
From: HPSCAD::HPSCAD::NMAIL-DAEMON "04-Mar-1990 1213"
To: DDOUCETTE
CC:
Subj: Report on failed mail
Errors were detected when processing your mail message
which was entered at 1-MAR-1990 11:46
From: DDOUCETTE
To: ERIS::RUBEN
Subj: Here a Topic from the Cabin.
----------------
The following error message was returned whilst sending to
ERIS::RUBEN
%MAIL-E-SENDERR, error sending to user "RCERDAN@ESOC.BITNET" at DECWRL
This is a soft error, but the retry period has expired.
No more attempts to send to this address will be made.
----------------
The text of your failed mail message follows:
Press RETURN for more...
================================================================================
Note 153.4 Letter from Ruben 4 of 5
NWD002::LOUGH_BR "If I could wave my magic wand..." 2 lines 5-MAR-1990 16:44
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dito here, though I didn't seem to get all that error text..
================================================================================
Note 153.5 Letter from Ruben 5 of 5
ERIS::CALLAS "F�tchez la vache" 3 lines 6-MAR-1990 15:52
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yeah, our external mail connect, via DECWRL was sick all weekend.
Jon
20 Mail from Ruben
================================================================================
Note 155.0 Mail from Ruben No replies
HPSCAD::DDOUCETTE "Innovation: Simplicity in Creativity" 542 lines 11-MAY-1990 10:10
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
MOTIONLESS TREES
No tree should be sad, just because they cannot move.
Just have a look at me... I can move, and go places... and yet,
I am always stuck to this chair, to this table... to this routine!
*********
A DAY IN THE FOREST
Walking thru the forest, among the evergreen trees, listening
at the singing birds, with my eyes closed, feeling the wind
on my face, and the very nature of the sun on my heart...
And as I want to stay that way forever, I simply let myself
fall to the grass, laughing as I face the dark blue sky...
with distant clouds... travelling distant places...
Still strange, that we do not cry when it should be
so easy this were all true... and not just another broken dream.
********
REASONLESS
He is scared. And he takes his being scared as the only goal
in his life. In fact, he justifies everything because of his
being scared.
And when you try to help him, explaining to him there is no
reason to be scared, he bursts into bitter tears. As he sees
you are confused, he simply whispers in your ear...
"You say the only thing I find as a reason to live is not
a reason. What if I tell you the same? Just telling you
your getting up every morning, going to your desk, and then
go back home is not a reason at all? What if what you have
always considered as a good reason to live is just an
irrational feeling?"
As he goes away, you lean your head against the wall.
No, you cannot help crying... too.
*********
FEELINGS AT NIGHTFALL
---------------------
Tellighting me the truth,
as I walkspace thru snowinds,
rainight in my heart,
are you there?
"It's emeraldawning! you said,
and colorain was falling,
so I simply closeyeing glided,
under kisspaces of amberain.
"Are you there?" I asked again,
but you did not answer...
Nightfall crystalights shinning,
sundusting my iced eyes
as I lie on the grassky
are you there?
Moonlight reflecting on a crystalight,
and tangram shadows covering the surface,
I simply wanted to swim,
"Come to crystalove me!" you cried.
Sunnightfalls over the lake,
freefalling on a dreamoon,
were you a goddess,
kisspacing away my fears;
"Love me tender, love me much!"
you told me with the sweetest voice,
and yet snowind started to blow,
are you there? I asked to the wind.
Timeless abysspaces around me,
noisechoes invading my mind,
as I freefell into the darkness,
as I sunkissed the silence...
Still my voice remains,
coming thru the endless galaxies,
coldawning in an islandust,
the neonight wind is my messenger...
... are you there?
*********
******
Your ears will become eyes,
so that you will see the sounds of a melody...
Your lips will become the strings,
so that you will be talking music...
And your heart will turn into wind,
so everytime it beats,
it carries the melody
to far places,
and unknown spaces...
There will be a mindawn,
and a river flowing thru your veins,
there will be an endless kiss,
you the kisser...
... me being kissed.
And if still you find no meaning,
no reason to keep on,
I will turn your soul into a dreambox,
and your brain will be the key...
so everytime you think of something,
a new dream will emerge,
still in love to life?
Wait to see death!
I would never mind dieing...
provided my death...
be a beautiful one!
********
In the desert, the jackal mourning tends to be easily confused with a
laugh. Only the Arabs know it is crying for its dead wife, but tourists
like to believe the jackal is laughing...
Of course, that only happens to stupid and ignorant tourists, for who
except an ignorant could laugh at the full moon in the nights of a desert?
And, what's far more irritating, the poor jackal approaches the tourists
at night, looks at them with its eyes flooded by tears, begging for
someone who could tell where is the corpse of its friend... and the tourists
scream "Oh, look! Here is that horrible jackal!!".
It is amazing how stupid mankind is, for we all confuse eyes flooded
with sorrow with the look of anger...
***********
We live in a closed, finite, curve universe. Closed, for everytime
you move, you end smashing your face against the walls...
Finite, for everytime you move, you still stay in the same place...
And, finally, curve, for everytime you want to go next door,
the trip takes a lifetime... and still, the room is empty again...
Yes, we live in a closed, finite, curve universe.
******
Ask yourself how is that you've got no hope at all,
and please, stop blaming it on your last move: that move was
intended to avoid the answer... remember?
********
RECURRING STORIES
_________________
THE KING AND THE SLAVE
======================
Once upon a time, there was a slave who once was a king himself.
He lived in Knossos, in a small miserable small house made of
mud and straws. The only thing inside was a pile of leaves serving
as a bed, and a table, on which a Loto flower was kept into a
basin full of water.
There was also the king of Knossos, a very rich man who lived in
a suntuous palace with golden columns, silver fountains, and an
endless garden with all kind of beautiful flowers. The flowers
were the most valuable treasure of the king, and he spent day and
night walking among his flowers.
On a certain day, the slave was starving, wandering thru the narrow
streets of the city until he reached a market. In it, dealers from
Phoenicia, Carthago, Susa, and Tartessos were trading their goods.
Wonderful Edomite clothes, delicious apples from Athia, amber, silver
and beautifully decorated Minos basins were sold or exchanged in the
marketplace.
The slave could not resist the temptation to steal one of the apples,
though his starving was so acute that he paid no attention to the soldiers
walking behind him. The very moment he caught the apple, the soldiers
grabbed him against the ground. They took the robber to the king, for he
was the only one who could judge his citizens.
As the slave was conducted thru the garden, he realized the king
was fond of flowers. When the king listened to the soldiers, he
calmly said: "Kill him, and hang his body on the marketplace, with
the apple into his mouth, so that everybody could notice what's
the fate of those who steal in my kingdom". The slave begged, cried,
scream, but the soldiers seemed deaf to his words. When he understood
there was no hope for him to save his life, he said to the king:
"If you save my life, majesty, I will give you my Loto flower, one
I am sure you have never seen before, and for sure, one that is missing
in this garden!". The king felt curious about that Loto flower and he
asked the slave to describe it. The slave told him his Loto flower
was unique, probably the only one on Earth. He said it was a strange
and beautiful flower, red at dawn, yellow at noon, green in the evenings,
blue at nightfall. The king was amazed by the description, and urged
the soldiers to get that flower for him. When the soldiers came back
with the flower, the king stayed a whole day with the slave, watching
and the flower, and said: "We will see if what you said it's true or
not".
A whole day they spent together, under the careful look of the soldiers.
At dawn, the Loto flower was tangram, reddish hue in its petals. And the
king was amazed. At noon, the colors turned into yellow, with golden
glints coming from its petals. And the king was amazed...
Just in the evening, the flower turned into green, slowly, calmly,
so beautifully! And the king was amazed.
He did not wait to nightfall. "Proceed as I told you yesterday", said
the king to the soldiers, "Kill him"
The slave was petrified, and his disappointment turned into anger.
"What? You did a promise! The flower is as I told, so how is that
I am still being killed?". The king looked at the poor man, and said:
"Killing you is the only way to ascertain that me, and nobody else,
will have theis unique flower, for I could not know whether you
have more of them anywhere. By killing you, I ensure myself I am
the only one owning this nature wonderful". "If you kill me, everyone
will know how cruel you are, and nobody will be obeying such a
cruel and compassionless king!", answered the slave. After thinking
for a while, the king decided to kill the slave and bury him outside
the town, so that nobody could ever know what happened.
It was early in the morning when the soldiers killed the slave, and
they buried him in outside the palace, near an old wall. And days
passed, the king spending his time watching the marvellous Loto flower,
at dawn, at noon, late in the evenings, and at nightfall.
One day he decided to go for a walk, and as he passed by the wall
he got amazed, for he saw...
... lots of Loto flowers freely growing from the place where the slave
was buried. He spent all his fortune keeping his soldiers tearing away
the flowers, but the hardest the tried, the more flowers grew. One
day, when the whole army was tearing away the flowers, the enemy attacked
the unprotected palace. They could easily invade the town, steal
the population, and destroy the magnificient palace. The whole place
was set to fire, and no more flowers grew. The whole population
was killed, and destruction was so perfect, that the whole place was
covered with ashes forever. The king, however, saved his life... and
the last Loto flower, though he was no rich anymore, but poor and
miserable. He escaped to another town, and he managed to build a
small house with mud and straws.
Once upon a time, there was a poor man who was once a king...
Ruben, 28th March, 1990.
There are two kind of friends: those who make you feel happy,
and those who make you feel sad. From the first, you can learn
how to laugh.
But it is only the second kind of friends the one who will teach
you how to smile.
**********
It is raining again. Although every rain is a different one. Again.
*******
The education he received was partly based on the hate to himself,
and partly based on the love for the others. That is why he was
found hanging from a rope, at home.
The education he received was partly based on the love for himself,
and partly based on the hate to the others. That is why he offered
him... the rope.
*************
Rainights, windays, snoweek, yearain. But also, houraining,
secondsnowing... alwaysnowing!!! I think I have properly
described the weather in Germany, haven't I??
*****************
He is speaking. But also, he lies every time he moves his lips.
****************
You want to fly, gliding over the valleys.
You forget the sparrow suffers, too.
***************
You have a secret, like we all. And of course, you keep your secret
unspoken, hidden in your lips, well deep into your heart. Like we all.
As you never tell about your secret, nobody knows about it. And perhaps
we all share the same secret, perhaps it is not a secret anymore.
As nobody ask you for your secret, you simply believe you are the
only one who knows the truth. Like we all.
**************************
We have created a fair system. Our system is not perfect, however.
Those who have nothing, receive the money from the State, and a house,
and the national insurance is free for them. Those who are rich, can
easily afford paying, and yet they have got money enough to build houses
that they sell to the State... houses where the poor people live.
You see, there is justice at both ends of the social tight rope.
The fact that you are a middle class worker automatically gets you
walking in the middle of the tight rope. You work hard to be rich;
you work hard not to be poor... you keep walking not to fall.
And as this is a fair system, we all thank you for your efforts.
************************
I love non-smokers, specially those that come to work by car, and
get all the LEDs in their videorecorder lighting using electricity
supplied by a nuclear plant.
What makes me sad is their incredibly long life expectancy,
for this prooves inconsistency pays off... at the end.
*********************************
He is a normal guy. Sitting in his desk, seeing the world as if it
had been there forever, as if all questions have been already answered.
He is a normal person, you see, one who believes his job is a good
one, his wife is the nicest, his car a good one, and his beliefs
reduces themselves to the nothingness of been moderate, and respectful.
Homosexuality, drugs, and war are simply nasty things for him.
That's all. And he will die happy, seeing his boy sitting in the
same desk, with his same beliefs, being normal, too.
Normal guys really kill me. For I cannot help wondering
whether God Himself is a normal guy. Should be that the case,
I will be the first one volunteering to hell.
*****************
You wanted an advice. And I gave you a punch on your nose.
That made you react for a while, screaming and swearing to me.
Is it that the only way for you to wake up... is a punch on
your nose?
******************************
AN INCREDIBLE DAY IN ANYONE'S LIFE
==================================
He went home. Tired. Opened the main door, and switched on the
lights. Dropped his coat on a chair, and served himself something
to drink. When he finished, he took his coat, switched off the
lights, closed the main door. Tired. And went to work.
*******************
AUDIOGEM
========
You feel down, blown apart, set aside, roleless. You feel ignored,
so absolutely ignored, that they do not take even the effort to
insult you. In fact, they simply pass by you without saying you
hello, or bye... or spitting in your face.
It is not because you are different in some ways. Nothing to do
with it. No, it is just that their eyes are so used to see gray,
so used to see emptiness, that your wonderful color and your
beautiful smile are not understood.
What cannot be seen cannot be understood. Conversely, what cannot
be understood... cannot be seen. And I tell you more: an ape will
never understand the meaning of your smile, but you must keep
smiling at the apes. Keep smiling!
*****************
The perfect teamwork? Look at my wirstwatch: every hand moves at
a different speed, and yet, they get the job done... on time!!
*********************
Every branch of the tree dreams of being the trunk.
Every man in society thinks he is the society himself.
When he is happy, he thinks the world is wonderful; when he is
down, he thinks everything is crap. When someone else is
unfair to him, he thinks society is unfair. When someone
loves him, he thinks everybody loves him.
This explains why every criminal is in fact a genocide, and every poet
a God himself.
*********
THREE OF A KIND
===============
I find my existence a bless. Well, put this way it could seem
I have reached everything anyone can dream of. No, my life is
not a life at the end of which one stops to watch satisfied the
achievings. I have nothing, at least nothing that could be touched
or be kept in a bank. Mine is a life of meditations, a continuous
walk around the center of a Universe to which I belong to the same
extent as it belongs to me. Yes, I am the short hand in a clock.
Being a short hand is not easy, though ignorant people tend to
believe my life is an entire meaningless one. I would like to explain
how this conception, far from truth, is the cause of many stupid
acts. First, I must move not fast, not slow, but with an accurate
uniform, constant and perfectly determined speed. In contrast with
most of the beings of the Creation, my only goal is moving. But
moving not as a means to go places, but as a goal in itself. My
movement rules the life of the rest of the beings. I cannot give up,
neither feel myself depressed, nor excessively happy, for sadness,
everybody knows, makes one to slow and, if it is a deep sadness,
even to stop. Happiness, a huge happiness, is also banned for me for,
as every body knows, too much happiness makes one to speed up. For
anyone else both situations could be bearable, but not for a
short hand. My goal, therefore, is moving in a precise way, never
slowing down not speeding up. Could anyone imagine what could
happen in irregular and erratic movement were part of the very
nature of a short hand? Time, as we know it, could simply dissapear, that
in the best case, because the worst case would be that Time be no
possible at all. No, I cannot change my nature. My meaning in this
life is thus sacred. I carry a big responsibility on my back and I
cannot fail. Yes, I know you are thinking I am missing something:
the existence of the long hand, and even of the seconds hand. Both
of them must move also with a fixed uniform velocity, it is true,
and I am not the one neglecting the important role they play. But,
this must be clearly stated now, they move for me, their movement
depends on mine. In fact, we can even neglect the usefulness of
the seconds hand for... what useful is its movement if I were
to slow down, or even to stop? Who needs to know the seconds when
the short hand is not working at all? Wouldn't you throw away a
clock unable to strike the hours and yet striking each second?
No, it is my movement the important one, the critical. And this
assumption is also valid for the long hand. Of course, I am open
to accept a clock with no long hand is a mutilated one, half a
clock, but still, a mutilated clock is still a clock. You cannot
kill someone just because he lacks a finger, or an ear, or even both
arms, can you? That's simply a crime: life takes no attributes.
Either there is life, or there is nothing. A dead clock is the
one slowed to a definite stop, with no possibility to restart ever.
And yet, despite the importance of the long hand... who will
keep a clock whose only hand working... is just the long hand?
It is me, the short hand, the only one really important. I
represent the object, Time, while the other two hands are simply
attributes. Of course, it is always desirable to know how many minutes
are left to the next hour, or how many minutes have past since the
last hour but, you see?, it is always the hour what really matters!!
Obviously, coexistence is necessary, specially when 'the others'
are as dependent on us as we are dependent on them. I cannot
exterminate the long hand just because its movement it's irritating
to me (not to say a word about the seconds hand... who was the
tortured mind inventing such a nasty thing as a seconds hand??).
No. I can do with they two, although I know the envy my goal, my
independence, my being able to suffice myself with no external
help. I know they hate me, just because I move slower than they do,
just because I am a hard worker, yet serious, reserved, introverted.
They have the freedom to slow down or to speed up, who will notice it
anyways? If the seconds hand speeds up, who on Earth will notice? Who
can be so picky, so incredibly undistracted? And even the long hand
can enjoy the freedom to speed up or slow down one minute, resting for
a whole round. Nobody pays any attention to seconds or minutes in
a normal life. But could you imagine what could happen if I behave
the same way? Could you imagine what could happen if, just to have a go,
I rest for a whole turnaround? I am trembling with horror with the
mere idea!! Everybody will notice immediatly. I had to be striking
three o'clock... and I am striking two o'clock... unthinkable.
The long hand, on the contrary, can do as it pleases, and instead
of reading three minutes past the hour it can freely mark two minutes
past the hour... The fact that nobody pays any attention to the long
hand is enough for me to feel different. I have nothing to do with
that hand, ours are quite different lifes. And, you see, despite the
fact they have freedom to do whatever they like, they still hate me
because I have a goal, a meaning, something that keeps me moving
with a constant, uniform movement. They are so fed up with their
meaningless freedom, that they are bored... dangerously bored.
I have seen this happening before: someone who inherits a state of total
freedom, saving the effort to fight for it, with no real consciousness
of the value of that freedom, always ends up rushing towards the arms
of poverty, misery, war, and unjustice. Beware of those who are
bored!! They will start finding funny an administered world in which
everybody is under control. Yes, believe me, when the sun of
creativity fades away, the night of stupidity falls...
Of course, I told you before, coexistence must be kept. I cannot
prevent them to break the rules, especially when I follow my own
rules, different ones, nothing to do with theirs. And I have also
noticed the way the seconds hand behaves: always running, mechanically
sometimes, loosely the next turn. I have made thorough analyses, and
my conclusions are evidences in this point. The seconds hand moves
fast, smiling at me everytime it overtakes me, and some days simply
looking at me with contempt, as if my slow movement were disgusting.
It does not understand that if I wanted to move that fast I could do it,
but then... wouldn't I loose my nature? I was born a short hand,
and I am satisfied with it. Do you know of any bird hating being
a bird? Or a dog who refuses to bark? Or a snake hating having to
creep? No, we must accept our condition, our nature, provided that
does not means neglecting the others to exist. You may say that
in some circumstances the mere existence of A automatically implies
the necessity to destroy and annihilate B. You forget that if that is
A's goal, then A needs B. And they both, the long hand and the
seconds hand, need me. Without me their life is absolutely nothing.
We must coexist, it is the only way. That's why our speeds are
so different. If we all three had the same speed, what would be
our goal then? Shouldn't suffice just the existence of one hand
instead of three? And also, why not four? Of course, there must be
a reason even for the most irrational event. Perhaps what we call
rational is just our unability to understand things, for everybody
knows we only understand what we want to understand.
Bah! No bother: my being different is my jewel, my secret, my force.
Although a day will come in which difference will be banned, and I
will loose my force, my secret... my jewel...
How much I love those two hands!!! How much I love them!!!
% ====== Internet headers and postmarks (see DECWRL::GATEWAY.DOC) ======
Received: by decpa.pa.; id AA16865; Fri, 11 May 90 00:29:44 -0700
Received: from ESOC.BITNET by CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU (IBM VM SMTP R1.2.2MX) with
BSMTP id 2693; Fri, 11 May 90 00:00:42 EDT
Date: Thu, 10 May 90 20:33:04 SET
To: ddoucette@hpscad.
From: RCERDAN@ESOC.BITNET
Comment: CROSSNET mail via SMTP@INTERBIT
Comment: File RUBEN BCK A0
Subject: Dave, any chance posting this in TOME?
21
22 The Extreme Regularity of Pulsars
================================================================================
Note 157.0 The Extreme Regularity of Pulsars 1 reply
ERIS::CALLAS "I'm glad I'm a Beta" 139 lines 20-JUL-1990 10:58
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: DECWRL::"RCERDAN@ESOC.BITNET" "MAIL-11 Daemon" 20 July '90 10:08 am
To: callas@eris.
Subj: A summertime Tome contribution
THE EXTREME REGULARITY OF PULSARS
---------------------------------
The most accurate clock is the one Nature offers in the form of a
pulsating neutron star known as "pulsar". Since the first pulsar
was discovered, in 1968, and after thoroughly examining lots of
data, new pulsars have been successfully detected in the dark
sky of the Universe.
The exact nature of the pulsar is not known, and the internal
mechanism that generates the precise pulses is only vaguely
understood. However, pulsars are interesting objects for two
main reasons: first, they are powerful extremely accurate clocks,
second, the radio emission of most pulsars seems to be perfectly
synchronized.
The scientific community has been gathering data for twenty years,
and nothing suggests the slightest variation or drift in the behaviour
of pulsars. This regularity has made the scientits to look closely
to another area in pulsar research: the look for anomalies in the
timing of pulses, i.e., the search for irregularities.
To this end, there is now a well connected network of observatories
spread all around the world, using powerful computers and radio
telescopes to analyze the different characteristics of the emission,
such as time of arrival, wave shape, polarization, nulling, and
signal drift. Micropulses and subpulses have been identified and
now exists a relatively big database related to the Vela pulsar and
the one located in the Crab galaxy.
My job consists in monitoring all pulses being radiated from a distant
pulsar located near Eta Cariane. In order to accomplish my job, I
am provided with three big computers, one receiving data from other
observatories, other responsible for signal processing tasks, and a
third one computing different pulses received simultaneously at
different frequencies.
Yes, I am the Eta Carinae observer, my only mission being keeping
all the antennas pointing at the exact location of the emission
source and checking, every 10 minutes, the graphs displayed at my
terminal. My pulsar is the most accurate ever discovered, which
additionally gives me the opportunity to be the only human being
who knows the exact time in every given moment.
No wonder I wear no watch with me. My watch is there, in the
darkest regions of the space... it never slows, it never goes fast,
it never stops. So used I have become to measure time to the
40th digit, that a second seems to me now a hell of long time.
There are many seconds within a second for me, and I am perfectly
aware of the precise meaning of a millisecond, of a nanosecond...
The fact that the age of "my" pulsar is five million years makes
me imagine that, when Alexander the Great was wandering through
the Persian desert, my pulsar was measuring every moment in his
life, perhaps knowing the exact moment in which the Greek would
die... Every night, when I come to my control room, I cannot help
staring at the sky and whispering "Good night, pulsar, here I am
again...". Yes, I love my job and I cannot imagine myself doing a
different thing: I am the Universe's watchmaker... the one setting
the exact time by which everything is measured, from the spin of
a positron to the start time of a football match. The data I gather
during the night is passed to all the research centers in the world.
Everybody trusts me, and I trust my pulsar. The guys next door
come to see me asking for the time, and I also received RETs
from physicsts in far places. Oh, sorry, I am using the
jargon again. A RET is what we call a Request for Exact Time,
and it is used by people concerned with nuclear physics or
investigating precise time-driven events, as they like to call it.
I am proud of the accuracy of my clock, and it is thru it that I
can measure the meaning of my existence. I am not the pulsar:
I am its soul.
Sometimes I detect an irregularity, a expected pulse not arriving
on time, and the visual alarms in my workstation start flashing.
Yes, I panick! I refuse to believe there is an error in the pulsar,
an irregularity that could be enough to cancel the project, to
classify my Eta Carinae pulsar as an unreliable device... No!
I rush to the backup computer terminal and start examining the data,
bit by bit, and that's really a hard work that keeps me busy
for at least one week. But at the end... it is always an computer
malfunction, or an error in the refreshing capability of the
signal processor. It is in those moments that I most love my
pulsar... my endlessly accurate pulsar...
And I start wondering what could happen if, suddenly, in the middle
of the night, the computer detects a drift, or a nulling event,
one of those in which the pulsar keeps silent, ceases to emit
its pulses and then restarts again the sequence but, obviously,
without anybody paying any more attention. I know my work is
thought to be responsible for detecting those anomalies. I am
being paid for that, but I prefer trusting my pulsar than the
computers, these slow computers which I know are waiting in
the night for the pulsar to fail.
That's why, that night, when the main computer reported an anomaly
in the pulse's time of arrival, and after all my checks forcing me
for the first time to recognize there was a real error in my pulsar,
I decided... to hide the fact... changing all recorded data to
reflect the pattern I am used to... the perfect pattern... clean of
any anomalies... It took me more than a month. In fact, I have just
finished occulting all tracks, deleting the log tapes, modifying
the signal processor readouts. I know this is bad, I know I am
just doing exactly the opposite to what they expect from me...
But love is an irrational feeling anyway, and I love my pulsar.
Everything is again as always: more RETs on my desk, more tapes
distributed all over the world, more measurements every night.
It is true. I am not the same man. Everybody says I need a rest,
a break from this job. My boss even suggested I should move to
other department, perhaps cosmic rays, or the supernovae guys...
Yes... I need a rest... an endless rest facing that remote region
in Eta Carinae... where I need no computers, timelessly resting
in a limitless space far away beyond Cygnus...
["They say that Alexander the Great, after conquering all the
known territories by that time, was found a night bitterly
crying... for there were no more kingdoms to conquer, no
more battles to win.."].
Ruben.
% ====== Internet headers and postmarks (see DECWRL::GATEWAY.DOC) ======
Received: by decpa.pa.; id AA12154; Fri, 20 Jul 90 02:48:19 -0700
Received: from ESOC.BITNET by CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU (IBM VM SMTP R1.2.2MX) with BSMTP id 5901; Fri, 20 Jul 90 05:47:11 EDT
Date: Fri, 20 Jul 90 11:46:33 SET
To: callas@eris.
From: RCERDAN@ESOC.BITNET
Comment: CROSSNET mail via SMTP@INTERBIT
Comment: File PLSR TXT A1
Subject: A summertime Tome contribution
================================================================================
Note 157.1 The Extreme Regularity of Pulsars 1 of 1
ODIXIE::CARNELL "DTN 385-2901 David Carnell @ALF" 13 lines 7-AUG-1990 08:48
-< time, time, where art thou, time >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
REF: (which additionally gives me the opportunity to be the only
human being who knows the exact time in every given moment.)
Of course, since scientists have known on this globe since 1962 that
time is NOT absolute, but rather relative, that the exact time at any
given moment is dependent on the position and viewpoint of the
observer, even within the confines on this globe.
I think time is of NO moment; and that a Timex is accurate enough
compared to a Pulsar ;-}
And it's off to Grandmother's house we go...
23 From a Pulsar in Deep Space
================================================================================
Note 158.0 From a Pulsar in Deep Space 12 replies
ELWOOD::BATES "Nel mezzo del camin" 4 lines 27-JUL-1990 16:44
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I present the following pieces, quoting them in their entirety from
messages received from our departed colleague and friend, Ruben Cerdan.
Is it appropriate to say "Enjoy them!" ?
================================================================================
Note 158.1 From a Pulsar in Deep Space 1 of 12
ELWOOD::BATES "Nel mezzo del camin" 75 lines 27-JUL-1990 16:45
-< The Wonderful Decay of the Stable Neutrino >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE WONDERFUL DECAY OF THE STABLE NEUTRINO
------------------------------------------
I am a stable neutrino, running thru the Universe. I follow a precise
geodesic line that will lead me to my final destination. I bear no
electric charge, and no mass, therefore I interact with no other
particles, be it radiation or matter. No force can deviate my path,
and no system can trap me. Freely I run, but I have a goal...
My travel is as old as the Universe, and I have seen everything
that exists, and everything that could ever exist. I know the exact
position and momentum of all and each particle in space and time, and
nothing escapes to my knowledge. I know every secret of matter, and
I have seen energy in all its possible manifestations.
I am the wandering neutrino, the one travelling across black holes
and quasars. I carry a message with me, and nobody can stop me. I have
seen every quark in a supernova, and have seen galaxies colliding;
no law has been yet postulated that can even slightly give any light
about me. My existence resumes all existences, and I carry a Universe
within me. I can explode into thousand stars... or I can collapse
into the whole nebulae...
And it has been always like this. I am looking for a point in the
spacetime in which I will collide, with the precise incident angle,
with the exact energy, with the accurate momentum, against a crust
of matter that will be waiting for me, spining and rotating
in the right direction... And only then... life will be born.
In that instant, I will die, my wandering will reach to its end,
as I evolve into a different form of energy, into a dream...
because life is matter's dream, and dreaming is life.
["Strange enough, that now that I have made up my mind, indecision
is the only thing that remains...", A. Einstein, "Letters"]
["I would give away my entire life, and all my certainties, if I
could get an answer to just one question... why is there a
Universe?", K. Schwarzchild, "Final investigations"]
["A black hole has no hair", A. Wheeler]
["It could be the case that God put life into the Universe, just
as a kid throws a stone into the sea... he had the stone in his
hand, so he knows of its existence, and even when he cannot
find the stone again, he knows of its existence... But the
scientist is not a kid, and God is not a stone", Kerr, "Letters"]
["If we could find the primaveal neutrino, and if we could trap
it, then we could know the origin of all... and perhaps that
day will be the last day for us", Newmann, "Nature"]
["Fucking 'ell!!! Just look at that! Just look at that!!",
(A member of the research team that discovered X-Ray radiation
from Cygnus X, quoted in "On the discovery of discrete radio
sources"]
["Jeleousy and pride guide every discovery in sciences...",
Graffitti at the Max Planck Institute]
% ====== Internet headers and postmarks (see DECWRL::GATEWAY.DOC) ======
Received: by decpa.pa.; id AA18706; Thu, 26 Jul 90 03:36:55 -0700
Received: from ESOC.BITNET by CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU (IBM VM SMTP R1.2.2MX) with BSMTP id 2483; Thu, 26 Jul 90 06:35:52 EDT
Date: Thu, 26 Jul 90 12:35:57 SET
To: bates@elwood.
From: RCERDAN@ESOC.BITNET
Comment: CROSSNET mail via SMTP@INTERBIT
Comment: File PION TXT A1
Subject: THE WONDERFUL DECAY OF THE STABLE NEUTRINO
================================================================================
Note 158.2 From a Pulsar in Deep Space 2 of 12
ELWOOD::BATES "Nel mezzo del camin" 42 lines 27-JUL-1990 16:46
-< Subtle Similarities >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SUBTLE SIMILARITIES
-------------------
The old Archimedes, after Salamina was finally taken by the Romans, was
found in the beach drawing strange geometric figures in the sand. The
Roman soldiers had the order to catch him alive and take him back to
Rome, due to his reputation as inventor. In fact, Salamina was very
difficult to conquer mainly due to Archimedes inventions.
History says that when a young Roman soldier found the Greek wise
man he requested him to surrender and go with him. The story follows
as everybody knows: Archimedes, without even looking at the soldier,
cried furiously "Don't step on my circles!". The Roman soldier killed
the old man without giving a second thought.
However, there is another different story that an old teacher told
to his pupils in a remote village in Santorini. According to this,
the Roman soldier stepped on a circle without noticing it and
requested Archimedes to go with him. Archimedes, without even
looking at the soldier, cried "Don't step on my circles!", and the
Roman soldier, furious, killed him.
Of course, you may say there is no difference between the traditional
story and this one.
Only a jerk can start arguing about insignificant details on whether
this story is different or not to the traditional one. It is the
same jerk that can kill an old man just because he hates people
stepping on his circles!!!
% ====== Internet headers and postmarks (see DECWRL::GATEWAY.DOC) ======
Received: by decpa.pa.; id AA18812; Thu, 26 Jul 90 03:37:58 -0700
Received: from ESOC.BITNET by CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU (IBM VM SMTP R1.2.2MX) with BSMTP id 2491; Thu, 26 Jul 90 06:36:50 EDT
Date: Thu, 26 Jul 90 12:36:45 SET
To: BATES@ELWOOD.
From: RCERDAN@ESOC.BITNET
Comment: CROSSNET mail via SMTP@INTERBIT
Comment: File NEUT TXT A1
Subject: SUBTLE SIMILARITIES
================================================================================
Note 158.3 From a Pulsar in Deep Space 3 of 12
ELWOOD::BATES "Nel mezzo del camin" 47 lines 27-JUL-1990 16:48
-< A Remarkable Meeting >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A REMARKABLE MEETING
--------------------
History tells us the story of a strange meeting between two great men.
They say that when Alexander the Great was marching against Persia,
before leaving Greece, he met the great philosopher Demostenes, who
defended the amazing theory that owning things is like owning chains.
Integral as he was, Demostenes was living inside a barrel with no other
belongings.
The story tells that Alexander approached Demostenes riding on his
horse Bucefalus and asked him "Master, I am going now to conquer
the world but would like to know... what is what you most wish in
this life". Demostenes, that was lying towards the sun and was now
covered by Alexander's shadow, answered: "I would like you to move
away from the Sun!".
So impressed was Alexander by the indifference to glory and power
showed by Demostenes that, talking to his army, said: "If I weren't
Alexander I would like to be Demostenes!". They say that the army
was just passing by Demostenes and when the last soldier, a young
Macedonian, passed by him, carefully avoiding to intercept the
sunrays, Demostenes added "If I were Alexander, I also would like
to be Demostenes".
This story teaches more than a phantastic meeting of two great men:
it also shows the unsurmountable difference between those going
after the glory, fame, and power, and those whose only goal is
being themselves.
That at the end the many Alexanders of History are the only ones
we admire is only a proof of how stupid we are.
If I weren't Ruben, I would also like to be Demostenes.
% ====== Internet headers and postmarks (see DECWRL::GATEWAY.DOC) ======
Received: by decpa.pa.; id AA18854; Thu, 26 Jul 90 03:38:45 -0700
Received: from ESOC.BITNET by CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU (IBM VM SMTP R1.2.2MX) with BSMTP id 2498; Thu, 26 Jul 90 06:37:41 EDT
Date: Thu, 26 Jul 90 12:37:42 SET
To: BATES@ELWOOD.
From: RCERDAN@ESOC.BITNET
Comment: CROSSNET mail via SMTP@INTERBIT
Comment: File NEUT2 TXT A1
Subject: A REMARKABLE MEETING
================================================================================
Note 158.4 From a Pulsar in Deep Space 4 of 12
ELWOOD::BATES "Nel mezzo del camin" 35 lines 27-JUL-1990 16:49
-< Exact Sciences >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
EXACT SCIENCES
--------------
They say an Egyptian king was told that there was a Greek man who was
able to measure the height of a pyramid by studying its shadow.
When Pythagoras was asked if that was true, he answered "Yes. I can
measure the height of a tower by measuring its shadow on the ground".
The king suddenly asked "And... can you measure the height of the moon?"
Pythagoras then answered "No, but I can measure exactly the stupidity
of man".
From the highest tower they hung to death the Greek mathematician.
Of course, his corpse was projecting a shadow which is enough for us
to measure... the stupidity of man.
% ====== Internet headers and postmarks (see DECWRL::GATEWAY.DOC) ======
Received: by decpa.pa.; id AA18892; Thu, 26 Jul 90 03:39:24 -0700
Received: from ESOC.BITNET by CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU (IBM VM SMTP R1.2.2MX) with BSMTP id 2501; Thu, 26 Jul 90 06:38:20 EDT
Date: Thu, 26 Jul 90 12:38:23 SET
To: BATES@ELWOOD.
From: RCERDAN@ESOC.BITNET
Comment: CROSSNET mail via SMTP@INTERBIT
Comment: File NEUT3 TXT A1
Subject: EXACT SCIENCES
================================================================================
Note 158.5 From a Pulsar in Deep Space 5 of 12
ELWOOD::BATES "Nel mezzo del camin" 109 lines 27-JUL-1990 16:50
-< The Librarian of Alexandria >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE LIBRARIAN OF ALEXANDRIA
---------------------------
He was the librarian of the most famed library ever: the library of
Alexandria. He could not remember for how long he had been there,
but it seemed to him his whole life was just that: a compulsive
feeling to know everything, to read each and all of the millions
and millions of books stored on the shelves covered with dust.
"I need to know all, I want to know all, I cannot stop... keep on
reading... keep on learning!"
He was an old man now, partially blind after the many years of reading.
He perfectly knew the location of every book, of each volume in that
universe of knowledge. He was sitting at his table, where houndreds
of books were open for him... and as he browsed thru the many pages,
he wrote down strange signs on a piece of paper...
"It's not true! It's not true! This equation is wrong... where?, where?
is that old book about celestial mechanics? Ah yes!!! Here it is!!"
He never saw the Sun, and yet he knew everything about the Sun.
He never saw a flower in his whole life, and yet he could distinguish
exotic flowers from faraway lands. He knew the secret of mathematics,
and matter presented no mysteries for him. And yet, he was unsatisfied,
always reading, endlessly learning...
"Stochastic behaviour of the beta exponent... or perhaps with a Lagrangian
operator... no, with Hamiltonians!! Yes, that will do!!!"
Nobody ever came to see him, so he saw nobody at all, and yet he knew
there was a world outside eagering to be learnt, to be known. Most of
the first books he read in the distant past were now but a pile of
yellow dust in an unknown shelf of his library, but he was not worried
at all... for he could remember every line, every statement, every
assumption, every conclusion.
Silence long ago invaded his place, and the light of the candles
were crossed from time to time by invisible clouds of dust. Every
time he turned a page his eyes illuminated with the glint of
pleasure... the pleasure of learning... the pleasure of acquiring
new facts, new data... the maximum pleasure of knowledge.
"What's this? Ah yes!! The reduced transition probability resulting
from atomic excitation!!! Yes... isolated resonance... I must learn,
I must learn!!"
Time inside the library was measured in a different way to that outside.
But that was nothing for him. He knew that effect, and in the past
he wrote a small volume about that clearly explaining the reasons. No,
that was not enough for him, there were still thousand books to be
read, and he was running fast, quickly grabbing every book without
a rest.
His hair was completely white, with silver rays illuminating the
nearest shelf... and his hands were tired, trembling in such a way
that the mere act of turning a page involved hard efforts for the
old man. And yet, there was only one book left. "I can do it!!
I can do it!!! It's the last book, it is the last book!!!".
He was tired, infinitely tired, but nothing could stop his struggle:
he opened the book... with titanic efforts... his last efforts...
"Here!!! Here is everything I wanted to know!!! Read!! For God sake,
keep on reading!! Do not stop now!!! Learn!!"
Suddenly, the place was filled with a golden nebula, the flames in
the candles growing up to heaven, and sea waves violently crashing
against the walls of the library. But even that was not enough to prevent
him on reading... starquakes and quasars exploding... sun flares
devouring his heart... he was used to that... he was close to the final
knowledge...
... and when he finally read the last page of the last book on the last
second of his life...
... when he grasped the relevances of each and all discoveries, when
he reached total, absolute knowledge...
he fell against the chair, cold... motionless... untimely dead...
And a little kid dressed in blue was wandering thru the different
sections of the library, taking out books from the shelves, sitting
in the corners, walking thru the corridors... "I must learn, I must
read all these books!!! I must start now!!! Got no time... Got no time!!"
The soft light of the candles illuminating his little rounded face,
and clouds of dust... from time to time... crossing the rays...
like pions on a bubble chamber... leaving traces behind...
... leaving...
... traces...
... behind.
% ====== Internet headers and postmarks (see DECWRL::GATEWAY.DOC) ======
Received: by decpa.pa.; id AA18966; Thu, 26 Jul 90 03:40:55 -0700
Received: from ESOC.BITNET by CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU (IBM VM SMTP R1.2.2MX) with BSMTP id 2505; Thu, 26 Jul 90 06:39:52 EDT
Date: Thu, 26 Jul 90 12:39:04 SET
To: BATES@ELWOOD.
From: RCERDAN@ESOC.BITNET
Comment: CROSSNET mail via SMTP@INTERBIT
Comment: File NEUT4 TXT A1
Subject: THE LIBRARIAN OF ALEXANDRIA
================================================================================
Note 158.6 From a Pulsar in Deep Space 6 of 12
ELWOOD::BATES "Nel mezzo del camin" 32 lines 27-JUL-1990 16:51
-< The Principle of Uncertainty >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE PRINCIPLE OF UNCERTAINTY
----------------------------
Heisenberg postulated that every time we observe an event, we modify
the event and, therefore, we must live with the unbearable uncertainty
of what the real event looks like.
After Auswitzch, he modified his principle to read:
"... but also, what's being observed modifies the observer in such
a way that we always have two observers: the one *before* the actual
observation is made, and the one he becomes *after* the observation
is made".
The fact that there are people that do not remember Auswitzch at all
teaches us there is a third possibility: a blind observer.
And we must live with that, even when life is no more possible...
% ====== Internet headers and postmarks (see DECWRL::GATEWAY.DOC) ======
Received: by decpa.pa.; id AA18977; Thu, 26 Jul 90 03:41:06 -0700
Received: from ESOC.BITNET by CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU (IBM VM SMTP R1.2.2MX) with BSMTP id 2506; Thu, 26 Jul 90 06:40:03 EDT
Date: Thu, 26 Jul 90 12:39:41 SET
To: BATES@ELWOOD.
From: RCERDAN@ESOC.BITNET
Comment: CROSSNET mail via SMTP@INTERBIT
Comment: File NEUT5 TXT A1
Subject: THE PRINCIPLE OF UNCERTAINTY
================================================================================
Note 158.7 From a Pulsar in Deep Space 7 of 12
ELWOOD::BATES "Nel mezzo del camin" 98 lines 27-JUL-1990 16:53
-< Superstrings: The Solitude of the Kaon+ >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SUPERSTRINGS: THE SOLITUDE OF THE KAON+
---------------------------------------
The Universe is a perfect net of lines of force. All these lines
form what is called a field. The lines of force terminate in what is
known as the source particle. However, a line has two ends. At the
opposite end will be a particle with properties opposite to that of
the source particle. When a field line is broken, one particle of
each kind results, i.e., a pair is produced. For example, annihilation
of a photon results in a positron-electron pair, each with opposite
properties, like charge, momentum, etc.
And this applies to all field lines, be it weak or strong forces,
gravitational or electromagnetic forces. As the properties of a
particle directly determine the geometry of spacetime, it is thought
that there are particles travelling in reverse direction along the time
axis... going backwards in time. Also, there must be a link with a
Universe like the one we know, but with opposite properties, a Universe
of anti-matter, of which some particles are already known to us and
can be easily detected, like antineutrinos, anti-mesons, or anti-muons.
Obviously, the life span of those particles in our Universe is very
short, for they are quite unstable in a hostile environment.
Despite the fact that we presently know more than 170 different
particles, and despite the fact that the quantum chromodynamics
(QCD) theory postulates the existence of some several new ones not
yet detected, we have been unable to "trap" the interesting
gravitron, responsible for the gravity field lines, and the most
amazing of all particles... the queltron.
Gluons and quarks are now being investigated thoroughly. It is said
that the "other" mirror Universe is located in a different geodesic
spacetime, probably within the quarks, thru which it communicates
with this side of our Universe. The fact that this communication is
only possible under extreme densities has been already proven by
the black-holes, from which particles are radiated escaping to infinity.
And this is everything we know so far. Superstrings not breaking
despite those extreme conditions of matter, serving as a link
to the other side of the mirror. However, the queltron is believed
to be the responsible of the timescaling in every event happening
in both Universes. It has been postulated as the only particle
present in every interaction, re-scaling the event according to
the local spacetime geometry. In other words: it is the responsible
to reduce or increase the size of the Universe.
If we want to travel deep into a quark, we can only do it with
the help of a "friendly" queltron reducing our geometry to the proper
size... in which the quark will become a new Universe for us...
with its galaxies and quasars... and possibly new physics laws...
Travelling to other Universes is only possible in this way: at speed
of light, and with the proper size. An experiment has been conducted
that pursued the isolation of the queltron; the arrangement is quite
complicated and I will obviate it here. Just mention that there is
a strong evidence of the queltron being successfully detected...
and strongly affecting the geometry of the environment...
Anyway, the paper of the experiment has been recently published and
anyone interested can get a copy. But before you ask me how to get
that copy... before you ask me more details about the queltron...
let me tell you something: in the very moment that the queltron
was "frozen" in our lab, another queltron was being frozen in the
other Universe...
... the implication being...
... that we have broken the string that tightly tied
our Universe to the mirror image... and, therefore, it
follows, we have destroyed any possibility of communicating
with "the others"...
Now, and only now, we are definately alone. Like the princess that
broke her mirror... when she tried to walk thru it...
... when she wished to travel...
... when she wished to know.
[Ref.: "Timescaling particles: The Queltron", G. Siebger, J. Fretter,
in "Nuclear and Particle Physics Review", Vol. III, 1990]
Note: If you look for this article, beware of your mirrors!
% ====== Internet headers and postmarks (see DECWRL::GATEWAY.DOC) ======
Received: by decpa.pa.; id AA19076; Thu, 26 Jul 90 03:43:19 -0700
Received: from ESOC.BITNET by CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU (IBM VM SMTP R1.2.2MX) with BSMTP id 2518; Thu, 26 Jul 90 06:42:06 EDT
Date: Thu, 26 Jul 90 12:40:29 SET
To: BATES@ELWOOD.
From: RCERDAN@ESOC.BITNET
Comment: CROSSNET mail via SMTP@INTERBIT
Comment: File NEUT6 TXT A1
Subject: SUPERSTRINGS: THE SOLITUDE OF THE KAON++
================================================================================
Note 158.8 From a Pulsar in Deep Space 8 of 12
ELWOOD::BATES "Nel mezzo del camin" 26 lines 27-JUL-1990 16:54
-< Riemann Spaces >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
RIEMANN SPACES
--------------
You are inside a bubble, floating on a gas. Everytime you look across
the trembling walls of the bubble, the entire space rotates... but
you do not move. Everytime the slightest wind kisses the bubble,
colors displace along its surface, the shape of the bubble changing,
and you oscillate inside.
Everytime you close your eyes to dream, the bubble explodes...
... and when you open your eyes to see where you are...
... you are inside a bubble, floating on a gas.
% ====== Internet headers and postmarks (see DECWRL::GATEWAY.DOC) ======
Received: by decpa.pa.; id AA19068; Thu, 26 Jul 90 03:43:15 -0700
Received: from ESOC.BITNET by CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU (IBM VM SMTP R1.2.2MX) with BSMTP id 2516; Thu, 26 Jul 90 06:42:04 EDT
Date: Thu, 26 Jul 90 12:41:27 SET
To: BATES@ELWOOD.
From: RCERDAN@ESOC.BITNET
Comment: CROSSNET mail via SMTP@INTERBIT
Comment: File NEUT7 TXT A1
Subject: RIEMANN SPACES
================================================================================
Note 158.9 From a Pulsar in Deep Space 9 of 12
ELWOOD::BATES "Nel mezzo del camin" 38 lines 27-JUL-1990 16:56
-< When Everybody is Gone >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
WHEN EVERYBODY IS GONE
----------------------
When everybody is gone, when the crowd is over, when the room is in
silence... the old professor goes to his blackboard, takes a piece
of chalk... and writes for the future:
"Never confound a mathematical model of Nature,
with Nature itself"
He turns back violently when a sudden roar of laughing kids destroy
abruptly his peace, and there he can clearly distinguish all those
familiar faces of his beloved pupils... "Silence!! Quiet!!!" cries
the old professor and, again, the roar slowly becomes a whisper,
fading away... and silence reigns again...
When everybody is gone, when the kids they all sleep, the old
professor goes back to his blackboard and writes for the future:
"Never confound a mathematical model of Nature,
with Nature itself"
[To Minkowsky: the last great man I would have loved to meet]
% ====== Internet headers and postmarks (see DECWRL::GATEWAY.DOC) ======
Received: by decpa.pa.; id AA19096; Thu, 26 Jul 90 03:43:58 -0700
Received: from ESOC.BITNET by CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU (IBM VM SMTP R1.2.2MX) with BSMTP id 2523; Thu, 26 Jul 90 06:42:54 EDT
Date: Thu, 26 Jul 90 12:42:08 SET
To: BATES@ELWOOD.
From: RCERDAN@ESOC.BITNET
Comment: CROSSNET mail via SMTP@INTERBIT
Comment: File NEUT8 TXT A1
Subject: WHEN EVERYBODY IS GONE
================================================================================
Note 158.10 From a Pulsar in Deep Space 10 of 12
ELWOOD::BATES "Nel mezzo del camin" 29 lines 27-JUL-1990 16:59
-< Einstein Field Equation... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
EINSTEIN FIELD EQUATION WITH ONE EXACT SOLUTION
-----------------------------------------------
After a tiring day at work, they saw the man sadly walking along
the corridors of the University, getting into his small desk, slowly
closing the door behind him.
He looked thru a steamy window to the yard outside. It was snowing.
And he wrote on the window with his finger...
E = mc2, I cannot destroy what I have not created;
I cannot create... what I have destroyed.
A fly was running on the cover of one of his books. And he sadly smiled.
************************************************************************
% ====== Internet headers and postmarks (see DECWRL::GATEWAY.DOC) ======
Received: by decpa.pa.; id AA19159; Thu, 26 Jul 90 03:44:56 -0700
Received: from ESOC.BITNET by CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU (IBM VM SMTP R1.2.2MX) with BSMTP id 2525; Thu, 26 Jul 90 06:43:53 EDT
Date: Thu, 26 Jul 90 12:42:57 SET
To: BATES@ELWOOD.
From: RCERDAN@ESOC.BITNET
Comment: CROSSNET mail via SMTP@INTERBIT
Comment: File NEUT9 TXT A1
Subject: EINSTEIN'S FIELD EQUATION WITH ONE EXACT SOLUTION
================================================================================
Note 158.11 From a Pulsar in Deep Space 11 of 12
ELWOOD::BATES "Nel mezzo del camin" 8 lines 27-JUL-1990 17:03
-< Afterword >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It is tempting, sometimes, to play one of my former roles and to edit
the messages I have received from deep space. But I have not done so,
and they remain in the language of their author. I have acted as a
transmitter, without interference...I trust...
gloria
================================================================================
Note 158.12 From a Pulsar in Deep Space 12 of 12
NWD002::LOUGH_BR "Rainbow Daemons" 10 lines 31-JUL-1990 21:44
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I don't know where Ruben gets the inspiration, but it almost always
generations some mental gear shifts. At least in my case. Interesting
tidbits, though...
Thanks for passing these along, Gloria.
Brian
Note 166.7 Is anyone here? 7 of 8
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 8 lines 23-MAY-1993 04:10
-< Hello, friends of mine >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This forest is now greener... or is it that my eyes are now greener?
I see the ants, or is it me the ant now?
But I am happy...
... of watching at my friends, though I cannot be watched me
myself...
Rub�n (from Moab, longing to meet you all...).
RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there]
================================================================================
Note 168.0 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 74 replies
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 10 lines 22-MAY-1993 07:31
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
RETURN FROM MOAB
_________________
She was not the queen of the birds... and I didn't look at her with the
face of a mouse...
[First letter from Rub»n's Return From Moab]
================================================================================
Note 168.1 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 1 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 6 lines 23-MAY-1993 06:18
-< Introduction >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That's why I wish to invite you all to come with me to deface those
inscriptions I have found in Moab....
as you are all birds...
and as I look at you with the face of a mouse...
================================================================================
Note 168.2 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 2 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 21 lines 23-MAY-1993 16:33
-< Nacquered Dawn Over Moab >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tao Te Ching says:
"The universe is sacred,
you cannot improve it.
If you try to change it, you will ruin it.
If you try to hold it, you will lose it."
Ellis and Hawking say:
"There can be timelike singularities, that the matter can avoid
hitting the singularities, and that it can pass through a wormhole into
another region of spacetime or into another part of the same spacetime
region..."
But in Moab, they always smile at you when you ask them where do those
manuscripts come from... as they still have portions defeating any
decyphering.
[... for five years I have spent the best of my soul in decyphering
the inscriptions... yet I failed... because I do not wish to ruin this
YOUR beautiful world!]
================================================================================
Note 168.3 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 3 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 17 lines 23-MAY-1993 16:47
-< There is no gold or silver here... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
NACQERED SHADOWS OVER MOAB DESERT
_________________________________
Come and deface with me this inscription...
... which, found carved in a stone...
... standing for milleniums in the desert...
... starts reading as follows:
Cursed be the man
who opens this,
as there is no gold
or silver here,
but the bones of one
who once fell in love
with a Moabite Queen!
================================================================================
Note 168.4 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 4 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 25 lines 23-MAY-1993 16:48
-< Consider your *self* >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
II
--
The art of knowing while being unknown,
the art of loosing the battle of Life
and yet, not perishing...
the art of considering your "self"
while you look unemotional, reserved,
calm, detached, quiet... and dead;
the art of hiding yourself
in the deepest depths of your soul,
getting the skill of falling
and yet reaching the highest heights...
knowing the things others do not know,
avoiding confusion through unification of wills...
the will to smile...
even when there are no lips...
================================================================================
Note 168.5 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 5 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 28 lines 23-MAY-1993 16:49
-< No trouble in the end >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
III
---
As I was careful in the beginning, now I have no trouble in
the end. The dead cannot be restored to life, even when I
know the many brains inside a neuron... even when I learnt
the energy rainbow linking your quantum mechanical and your
relativistic worlds...
Now I see in your eyes how bored you are of that your
Western civilization which gives you lips and steals from
them smiles... which wins your eyes, but looses your
heart...
Now I understand the delight you find in travelling to
faraway lands, in exploring distant galaxies, in
penetrating with your electronic eyes the heart of
matter...
and now I see what you cannot see:
I can see your...
...self.
================================================================================
Note 168.6 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 6 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 21 lines 23-MAY-1993 16:50
-< A new algebra >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
IV
__
I ride on a superstring,
and my mirror reflects my face
in eleven dimensions;
As spacetime is quantized,
I know how many universe there are...
and I can give you the secrets,
starting from Yang-Mills,
and expressed in a new algebra...
but then, my friend...
would you be ready to take everything else
I give?
================================================================================
Note 168.7 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 7 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 22 lines 23-MAY-1993 16:51
-< Days of my life I couldn't live... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
V
_
I mastered the difficult art
of looking at a mirror,
and locking into a bottle
what it reflects back to me.
Now I have thousands of silvered bottles,
all kept on shelves,
filled with the many different faces...
Because life is but a name,
and death is a fact...
... I cannot understand why you get sad
every time you face one single thing you cannot understand,
while me... I get sad...
... for the many days of my life I just couldn't live.
================================================================================
Note 168.8 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 8 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 9 lines 23-MAY-1993 16:57
-< How could I be ever at peace? >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
VI
--
Even if I could snatch a few more eons of my life,
how could I be at peace when I definately know
that I sink while you float,
and that you float because I sink?
================================================================================
Note 168.9 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 9 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 18 lines 24-MAY-1993 16:01
-< Supersymmetry Theory >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
But you don't like metaphysics, do you? So you rush into the sacre
books of your physics and mathematics... reading eagerly all known
theories... checking out each hypothesis... until you crash your tired
eyes against the Kaluza-Klein cosmology, which teaches that the
effective number of space dimensions is time-dependent...
And as you were educated in science, as you claim yourself a rational
being, you decide you will believe ONLY what can be expressed in your
logical and mathematical language. Again, my friend, you must learn
supermanifold theories...
... which lead to the acceptance...
... of eleven dimensions, in the middle of which you and your
doubts sail together across troubled waters...
I told you: you float, while I sink.
================================================================================
Note 168.10 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 10 of 74
52246::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 41 lines 24-MAY-1993 16:35
-< The message to Eta-Carinae >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Listen up:
It is the mission of the scientist, whatever his field of study,
to provide us with the best tools so that we can interpret
reality in order to acquire the knowledge as complete as possible
about us, the Universe, and the role we play in that Universe.
We therefore need your skills as a mathematician, as a
neurologist, as a poet, as a musician, as a priest... we need all
your skills, absolutely all of them.
And it is our task to foster your curiosity in all fields of
research, because our mission here, my friend...
... is to gather all pieces of the puzzle together, until we get
the entire picture of the final understanding.
We will need you, whatever your race, whatever your sex, religion
or condition. We need each of you, but what we most need is your
curiosity. Be inquisitive and try to deface the unrevealed, the
secret, the mysterious... Look at the stars in a dark night and
raise the deepest questions... always pursuing the most
satisfying answers: this, my human friend, is your goal.
And if you now mastered the secrets of supersymmetry, which
reveal to you that spacetime dimensions are time-dependent, do
not stop.
Your next question is:
when will the time come in which I will be
travelling riding on my superstring and the
seven remaining dimensions will unwind in front
of my eyes?
Only then, my friend, I will show you what will you find by the
very moment in which the whole Universe lies there, completely
unwinded, in front of you.
But, would you be ready to take everything I give?
================================================================================
Note 168.11 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 11 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 9 lines 25-MAY-1993 01:28
-< Taoist Relativity >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yes, I know: the science of essence has to do with state of mind, the
science of life has to do with use of energy.
And now that you have consider your *self*, try to master the huge
amounts of energy arising from deep inside you.
... and see the white lights...
the lights within you.
================================================================================
Note 168.12 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 12 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 19 lines 25-MAY-1993 16:50
-< Do not be entangled... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Usually, one studies the Schr䩮ger equation as a linear equation...
but we saw earlier that in the case of the point particle the right
thing to do is to search... for a nonlinear generalization of such
equation... and this leads to the most beautiful equations of physics,
the supersymmetric Yang-Mills and Einstein equations."
[Superstring Theory, Volume I, M.B. Green, J.H. Schwarz, E. Witten]
... because beauty always shines no matter how it is expressed...
"A ghost-free spectrum is only possible for certain values of the
constant 'a' and the spacetime dimension D"
[op. cit. supra]
... which led to the 11 dimensions... and opens the question of whether
we do live in a 3-space and 1-time dimensional spacetime or...
... whether there are possible worlds having 3-time and 1-space
dimensions...
================================================================================
Note 168.13 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 13 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 16 lines 25-MAY-1993 17:00
-< ... in this world of ups and downs... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"One has to retire when facing the Cypro-Minoan inscriptions due to a
great number of unexplained facts... such as the evidence that the
source of the Cypriot system was Cretan Linear A, not Greek Linear B...
and the inscription of Urfa... which parallels that of the Etruscan
Chiusi, dated 400-350 BC... when, according to all paleographic and
anthropologic analyses... the Minoan inscription was written...
... in 1900-1600 BC!"
[Reading The Past, British Museum Publications]
NB:
Both inscriptions are identical in meaning, yet both cultures did
not know each other and, it is a mystery how both of them narrate
exactly the same events... so far separated in time...
================================================================================
Note 168.14 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 14 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 11 lines 25-MAY-1993 17:13
-< ... You have another time and space, as well >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The heartland of Elam corresponds very roughly with the area of the
modern Iranian oilfields... Elamite was one of the languages of the
Persian empire... it is a non-Semitic language and it is not directly
related to any of the other languages in the near East... Not more than
a dozen scholars are involved in studying it... and any attempt to
analyze the language has repeatedly failed...
The only inscription somewhat readable seems to be rather obscure...
and only two sentences are so far undoubtly translated, one reading
'Queen of the birds' and another one, in the same inscription, with a
hypothetical translation reading 'the face of a mouse'...
================================================================================
Note 168.15 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 15 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 25 lines 26-MAY-1993 16:58
-< Overcoming Nature >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"World 5540... located in one of the branches of Eta_Carinae... This
species is one of the few chromosomatic chains suitable to controlled
analysis. It grows very freely on a modestly sized planet and the
members of the species last for many years. Regular redirection of the
genic channels on the entire chain, except when neurological
development is in its early stage, will encourage the growth of the
population..."
[Analysis of differentiated neurons on Vanda Cristata bulbs]
"... and therefore one must conclude that cellular automata rules
successfully explain population growth, provided one takes the
precaution to carefully modulate the injection rate of new cells into
the plasma fluid."
[Experiments On Cellular Automata]
"Recombinant DNA can be accurately redirected towards specific areas of
the chromosome, such that under controlled genic docking techniques,
the experimenter can design completely new families of viruses..."
[Genetic Engineering and Bioethics, 1993]
... and you will soon be able to be God Himself... yet you lack a
theory of sadness...
================================================================================
Note 168.16 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 16 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 40 lines 26-MAY-1993 17:08
-< Neuralights >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
NEURONIGHTS UNDER THE NEURALIGHTS
I
The smallest of the viruses
has the greatest of the powers:
it can get you down to your knees,
praying to unknown gods...
... you, who never believed in them.
The biggest of the universes
has the greatest of the powers, too:
it hosts deep inside itself
the smallest of the viruses.
II
Neuronights under beautiful neuralights,
axonew feelings are coming to you;
You wonder what kind of miracle life is,
that a virus can destroy you,
and your brain has no command on your cells.
Neuronights under neuralove,
synapsechoing tears fall on your heart;
You bitterly weep your destiny,
for you thought being born was enough,
and now you face the futility of life.
... and as me myself I am scared of death,
I kiss you on your forefront, dad,
and promise you not to hate this world,
for stealing away from me what I loved most.
================================================================================
Note 168.17 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 17 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 39 lines 26-MAY-1993 17:11
-< Persistent Believer >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
III
Birds singing in a forest,
me sitting by the lake,
suneurons shinning thru the trees,
as I rest with my back against the grass;
Soft tunes from a farway flute,
as I remember my childhood,
and the face of the mother
I never had.
IV
Sound of the rain
splashing on the leaves,
in a fractal garden
as I sleep...
Drums in my dreams,
the beating of my heart,
and my soul whispers to the wind...
... the many names of my deads.
My father died at dawn,
my mother set like the sun,
my wife disappeared in the dark,
and the eyes of my daughter reflects back to me...
... the sad unhappiness in my face.
Yet I sleep in the garden,
dreamless and naked,
for I still believe in tomorrow...
... despite you all have stolen its suns.
================================================================================
Note 168.18 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 18 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 11 lines 26-MAY-1993 17:13
-< No Explanation Will Satisfy The Lover >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
V
Wouldn't you be lying by me,
even if you knew that would be your last dream?
and wouldn't you dream of lying by me,
even if you knew that's only a dream?
We all know a logical explanation
does not satisfy the lover!
================================================================================
Note 168.19 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 19 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 31 lines 26-MAY-1993 17:15
-< The Queen... she had a dream... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
VI
The queen she had a dream:
The queen said to the bird:
"Fly for me over quiet oceans!"
The bird sang to the queen:
"Lye in bed, and let me glide
over those your intimate forests!"
And the bird and the queen they made love,
and the wings were but shadowplay against a wall,
and they rested together,
thousands nights every night.
And she closed her eyes and he opened his wings,
and she relaxed leaning her head on his chest,
and they danced together,
as the sweat drops turned into gold;
and the sunrain fell over their bed,
and her hair turned into silver,
and the bird kissed her forests,
and the queen exploded like a star...
But the queen awaked in the morning lights,
and found a dead bird on her lap,
and tears filled her eyes...
... for she new no explanation could ever be a comfort to her.
================================================================================
Note 168.20 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 20 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 39 lines 26-MAY-1993 17:20
-< Letter to Cambridge University >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
VII
Do not let that feeling ruin the sunsets of your soul,
for even when you have reasons to be depressed,
you have not the right to close other's eyes to the sun.
Theory Of Spacetime Quantization
_________________________________
Were not for those moments in which you feel yourself loved, you couldn't find this
life wonderful.
Were not for those moments in which you feel set apart under the rain of indifference,
you wouldn't find this life so insufferable.
And then, the years of music... because in music I found a completely new language.
Confused I wandered across the streets of your society: your universities, your
unemployment officies, your armies, your banks, your hospitals, your synagoges and
churches, your roads and supermarkets... There I was! Pushing a trolley full of
synthetic food, sitting with you in front of a dirty TV watching at the ads, driving
your cars... attending your concerts... reading your famous books... coping with life
by killing myself... giving birth to dead kids... kissing you with frozen lips... dieing
in front of a mirror as a shave myself... and then... and then...
... the insufferable feeling of wasting my entire life...
light is not enough to see, you still need to open your eyes.
But even then, my friend, you will need two entire new eyes...
Have luck with your investigations, I really wish you discover the set of equations
linking the microscopic and the macroscopic worlds altogether. Frankly. But then,
again...
will you be ready to take everything I give?
================================================================================
Note 168.21 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 21 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 28 lines 26-MAY-1993 17:44
-< The obssesive insistence of the unimportant >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE OBSSESIVE INSISTENCE OF THE UNIMPORTANT
It is unimportant, pointless, useless, emptied of any real
significance. But it is yours. It is the trembling hand holding a
pen in front of a blank sheet of paper... with the world in his
eyes... a his lips bleeding... his wet hair dropping water drops
over a piano keyboard... and his black nacquered wings fully
open...
It is an endless column raising up to infinity, deeply rooted on
clouds of dreams... standing in the middle of the sky... yet
containing the whole creation...
And a woman offering you the poison in a cup, and the arrow of
time crossing the skies like a rainbowfall...
And then the hand writes on the paper as carving in it deep
tortuous valleys thru which your blood freely runs down. And then
the moon, and then the sun slowly setting... and everything
filled with dim stars... and a crystal voice from a distant
quasar like fresh water against your face. It is unimportant,
pointless, useless, emptied of any real significance...
... but it is you... and your *self*...
================================================================================
Note 168.22 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 22 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 27 lines 26-MAY-1993 17:47
-< Negative densities of matter >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
STILLNESS...
Stillness, serenity, quietness... a soundless noiseless
noiselessness... bathed by calm waters on which you float...
slowly oscillating... like the creature embracing the creation...
gliding in the dusk...
Infinite tenderness... electric silence... no pupilar activity...
breathless... flat scan... no pulse... the music of the theta
brainwaves... colorful paradise... pure softness...
Feeling like crying... and crying... as blue galaxies surround
you... and you get definately lost within diluted purple
nebulae... bodyless... untangible... no substance at all...
This is the first thing I give you now: the preciousness and deep
joy of melting with the sparkling immensity of your soul!
[... though any exact solution to Einstein's field equations must
always rely on a realistic amount of matter in order to describe
the causality structure of our Universe, yet the theoretical
physicist can freely choose that amount of matter... provided no
negative densities of matter appear... and provided no tachyons
are forcingly introduced in the solution...]
================================================================================
Note 168.23 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 23 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 41 lines 26-MAY-1993 17:49
-< Theory Of Sadness >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THEORY OF SADNESS
Nice, your theories are all nice. You've got a roughly nice
theory to explain the causality structure of your universe,
describing quite neatly the structure of matter and energy. And
you have a very good theory about life, describing the evolution
from a couple of twisted aminoacids strings up to you... and you
are about to complete your chromosomatic map and you can even
modify the genetic code...
You also have a beautiful theory about neural mechanisms and how
the whole process of thinking takes place, starting from a
neuroblast and then gradually growing up to the complete perfect
machine called 'nerve system'...
And you know the names of every star visible to your eyes, and
the names of each of the fundamental particles... and your
mathematics have already broken the black-and-white barrier of
discrete logic to fall into the realm of the fuzzy logic
reasoning...
... but you have no theory about death... other than the second
principle of thermodynamics... to which you consistently apply
your theories of chaos... being even able to mathematize the
chaos thru fractals... but, my friend, you still lack a theory
about the soul...
... a definite and settled theory about your anxiety and dreads...
... you have no theory at all keeping you quiet and calm about death
knocking at your door...
My friend: YOU HAVE NO THEORY AT ALL ABOUT SADNESS.
Therefore, let's start, you and me, devising the basics of such a theory.
And maybe you will find some relief... providing you are ready to
take...
EVERYTHING I GIVE.
================================================================================
Note 168.24 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 24 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 105 lines 26-MAY-1993 17:52
-< Hypothesis 1: The impossibility to even smile... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Theory Of Sadness: On the impossibility to smile
Last Dinner
-----------
Brutal encounters on a dirty ill-illuminated small flat, anywhere
in any big city...
The father, as a breadwinner, sitting at the table to have dinner
with his wife and his daughter... eyes crashing under the
routine... late in the night...
... with the heartless feeling of the man who, in looking at the
eyes of his daughter, discovers the empty and hard look of a
young... streetwalker...
That's why he feels like no smiling at all.
But he wouldn't cry... either.
Family Links
-------------
Twilights in the park, and the mother holding the hand of
his son... walking over the mud... sitting on a wet bench
under the light of a street lamp... firmly holding the arm
of his son... while the guy uses a needle to inject himself in
his arm... all liquid frustrations... until his back bends
forward... and dies.
The eyes of the mother will penetrate your soul as the
sharpest two-blade knife.
Do not worry: she will never be your mother... although we
all were the boy.
Kindergarten
-------------
... where all the kids are thrown and forgotten for a while,
so that you can keep on lubricating the mechanisms of life...
and then, late in the evening, the kids are back again at home...
Like putting a jar with a flower on the shelf of a jail and
pretending it is no more a jail...
but an enchanted forest...
Refugees
--------
We are all inmigrants. We are all refugees. We find a refuge deep
inside us and we never let the others to cross the barriers
surrounding our souls.
We keep our heart confined, and in solitude we find ourselves.
Sometimes we open our heart to the external world, and the world
comes inside us with all its brutality, like an oak tree falling
down the hillside of our intimity crushing everything beneath.
Then, we close our borders forever, and we thoroughly examine
every feeling we import from the outside, and every feeling we give.
Like icebergs we wander, drifting over cold oceans... and not even
in a bed do we find companionship... dressed with vanity clothes,
we are our pride ourselves... we dictate the obscure laws ruling
our sentiments, the sentiments we never let be known... and
if we feel happy, it is at the cost of anyone else's sadness...
finding no concern in shooting and executing our prisioners...
starting by putting to death our *self*...
... and ending up with going to sleep early...
... for tomorrow will be another day in our personal war
against the others.
Theory Of Sadness: On the Useless Tears In Our Eyes
Atrocity Exhibition
-------------------
A girl gets naked for you, provided you have cool blood
and a hot wallet. The girl straddles on you, and dances
for you, provided the amount of money is attractive, no
matter how vomiting and repulsive you are.
Finally, the girl will open her mouth, leaving around your
pride the circular red mark of her lipstick...
... provided the animal you've got inside does not escape and
jump over her.
And if you see filthy tears on her eyes, heartless you take
away from you your own eyes, for man is the only animal which prefers
to give up food for pleasure, the only one who gives up his sacred divinity
in favor of his animality.
================================================================================
Note 168.25 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 25 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 15 lines 29-MAY-1993 08:28
-< Hypothesis 2: Theory Of Fear >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How long since I found you sat in the bottom of your cavern in Kenya...
trembling, infinitely scared... with your eyes closed... your naked wet
body against the cold rock...
... as outside the storm filled the skies with lighting fires, striking
the trees... and the mountains shaking?
How long since you were terrified by the power of fire, embracing your
kids in the darkness of your cavern?
And today... are not those your eyes the same eyes... looking with
anxiety to a glint in the immensity of the cosmos?
Fear not, my friend, even when there is no more a cavern for you
to hide, but the depths of your agitated soul.
================================================================================
Note 168.26 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 26 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 35 lines 29-MAY-1993 15:50
-< Hypothesis 3: The Praxis of Dieing >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY
-----------------
The straightforward tale of a journey I give you now, my only
friend, describing a place from which you will never wish to
return.
You will be sitting among so many ruined empires, and your eyes
will have seen so many beautiful faces now covered with wrinkles
evidencing the passage of Time... as he lingers beside you...
You will feel deep inside you the shortness of human life, and
the unhappiness caused by the many worlds in which you will never
die...
and you will find yourself in a distant beach, staring for the
last time to the mobility of the spacetime ocean as it fuses with
your mind... as if in a dimension of their own... my friend...
And you will swim in its night-deep waters, having your last
breath of fresh air, as I lap you gently waiting to cover you
when you drown... and the entire Universe so silent... and you so
motionless... until we both encounter darkness... like the
softest blanket... as I hug you in mine arms...
I know the weather in your soul was unsettled, so that now I give
you a calm death, as you walk by the cliffs watching the entire
coast of your life strewn with the corpses of your dreams and the
wreckage of your past...
Be quiet and silent, my best friend, as I am just holding
your hands in my hands...
... and your heart in my lap.
================================================================================
Note 168.27 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 27 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 30 lines 29-MAY-1993 16:54
-< A Deserted Temple in Moab >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
Your search is just a leaping at random between your intimate wishes
and your doubts, between your doubts and certainty.
And you reach the Temple of Knowledge, in a landscape with no
valleys, but merely the scoopings of shallow floods in the
limestone. Your soul has been absurdly vulnerable at all times to
the attacks of religion, indifference... and science.
In the dusk you enter into the temple, almost deserted, where
your past and your present fit together. The waters have invaded
the main circular room and as the night falls, the surface of the
water is caught by the moonlight.
And a Moabite tune fills the air, where damsels and young men
dance after nightfall, till the first lights of dawn kiss the
few marble columns which stand about the room. Yet the temple
lies deserted, surrounded by the dark blue of the sea, standing
like a dream only existing in your heart...
You wish you were free of doubts, and to become so is the aim of
all your journey... though the doubts are the indispensable
lights in the darkness of your ignorance, illuminating your path
till the sun of certainty be in sight...
Take care in your journey, my friend,
for this time curiosity grows dangerous for you.
================================================================================
Note 168.28 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 28 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 44 lines 30-MAY-1993 04:00
-< Gossip of the Waves >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
In that place the light seemed to melt and a timeless, motionless
eternity seemed to hold it.
You were looking at the horizon, listening the quiet gossip of
the waves... lost amid the illusion of stillness... as you
remembered everything you once wished to attain, in those days in
which you were young enough as to challenge Time itself.
And your eyes were like solid sapphire unexpectedly dark, as you
watched the climbing sun stepping over golden clouds... silent in
the kind morning air, like if you were the last messenger of an
unknown civilization...
In that place, the light really melted with your eyes and the
human journey, started eons ago, now finishes as you feel tired
by the unattainable stillness you were looking for since you were
born... Your demise, your extinction, can neither be stopped not
started: it flows with the kind air you now breath for the last
time... and though you may never live again in the fields where
you grew free and wild, do not fade away with sadness in your
heart, my friend:
the dimness through which you now float,
is a night that is neither light nor shadow,
but an unknown coast laying empty under a new
moon...
no more sunsets, nor raising suns in your dawns,
for you have now reached the goal of your
devious life!
I told you once, the shortness of human life closes the road to
knowledge, and that is why I gave you the command to reproduce
yourself so that the sons of your sons could finish the journey.
But instead, you gave birth to blind sickfull beasts which kill
each other ignorant of the goal.
I told you once: would you be ready to take everything I will
give?
================================================================================
Note 168.29 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 29 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 47 lines 30-MAY-1993 04:19
-< The seeds of decay... >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
But of course you are confused, how not to become confused?
In your double loyalty the seeds of decay lay hidden. You have
been unable to fuse in one... your mind... and your soul. And you
now believe in the sacred principle whch dictates that you shall
pursue those actions... as will give the greatest possible pleasure
to your mind while leaving untouched your soul, whereas it is by
no means clear for you how to give much knowledge to your mind...
without having your soul suffering itself...
Each step towards knowledge breaks something inside you, and if
you pretend being pure and give up learning and mastering the
secrecies of Nature, you will find yourself in poverty,
surrounded by darkness unprotected by the gods...
I know you would go lengths to get knowledge, but tell me, my
last friend: would you go lengths just to recover your soul?
I have seen bullets being shot and killing your brothers, and
brothers riping your daughters and wife... I have seen a war
which never ends... and thousands of souls being destroyed...
lives put into demise... and I know you fight for an explanation.
You explained to yourself the exact trajectory a bullet follows
when shot... and you wrote nice books about why the impact of a
bullet against the head of a newborn causes his death... and your
Law perfectly prescribes what is a crime, and what punishment
should the criminal expect.
But on whether anyone has the right to stop other life, this my
friend, has never been explained by your books. Moral escapes any
dictum emanating from your mind, and it seems to ellude any
rational approach. I give you this precious stone now, my love:
Nothing, absolutely nothing made of paper or of any
other substance will keep your soul quiet, for you are
so far away from the meaning of events...
In your double loyalty to science and ethics...
... the seeds of decay lay hidden.
Yes: all your explanations will never give tranquility to my
soul.
================================================================================
Note 168.30 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 30 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 52 lines 30-MAY-1993 16:51
-< A meridian solitude of light >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
A MERIDIAN SOLITUDE OF LIGHT
You wished to stand vigil over your friend. And you reached the
place late in the evening, when gradually the darkness closed
around you... as you walked by the zigzag way under the arches
through the ancient fortress walls, now ruined. The moon extended
the shadows of tamarisk trees as if a strange fog hosted you for
a while...
All lay quiet and uneventful, and time was frozen for you. The
place was immensely lonely and you sat on a rock... under the
uninhabitated skies and stars...
The tomb of your friend, buried in alien earth, surrounded by the
ruins heaped with shapeless walls... Alone and big... and
everything around you... so small! You were alone, in a meridian
solitude of light... resting by the sepulchre, the sepulchre with
a vase of white marble, so beautiful... shinning so marvellously
moonlit... and every stone around was the scattered fragment of
truth...
Alone with your friend, under shady arches, in a place scented
with myrtle and rosemary bushes, the only remainings left after
Time devastated the fortress millenia ago, burning to the ground
all dwellings... except the sepulchre and the brightness of the
ancient tomb standing as the only shelter in the middle of
desolation. Only your tears glint tonight as they fill with
shafts of moonlight... as you remember your friend... in
solitude.
The myrtle whose boughs are tied to the tombstone were
illuminated by the ageing moon... and you felt yourself as
nowhere else in this world... your soul unaltered as the river of
time foams over you... tonight... and your heart listening the
demand for the search as whispered by the Universe's voice... the
wind...
Your dreams they all faded in darkness, the dimness of the long
barbarian night... But the morning was already falling to pieces
about you, and you... silent despite the sound of the playing of
flute girls outside... motionless you remained, enjoying an
unassailable peace... night after night... always the same
silence...
for you were standing vigil over your friend,
in a meridian solitude of light.
================================================================================
Note 168.31 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 31 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 50 lines 31-MAY-1993 16:01
-< Under a Godless Heaven >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
In year 1000, after sailing under unsettled weather across brave
waters, a ship made it into the Icelandic coast. It was the time
in which Iceland was being christianized, not without problems...
In a deserted part of the warmthless coast, a man wearing a blue
cowled cloak and with a silver bracelet on his arm landed alone.
He had a scar on his wrinkled face yet regular features, bald but
with a greying beard, not strong, yet warrior-like. He sat under
the overhangs filled with the empty nests of dark birds, and
looking to the black clouds, he prayed:
"I have run through several religions and am now secularized,
having come to the conclusion that this world is just one of
God's mistakes.
I cannot stop History, but steer it, and what fate can be more
godlike than this one to which I am committed myself?
There can be no happiness if the things we believe in are
different from the things we do... and this is not mine Law, for
I did but inherit it from You, when I told You I was ready to
take... everything You would give.
I scarcely know in what age or world I traveled all these eons,
yet You taught me that the love I feel for my planet and the hate
I feel for the Universe limits me to home-made mistakes...
You speak to me dressed in blue, and I call You 'the ocean'...
You speak to me dressed in tangram, and I call You 'the sun'...
Your language is intelligible to me, for it is my own language,
the language of my people, yet with few eons between us. And now,
desperated, breathless, and in solitude... I ask You for a last
answer:
If the hate to those who steal freedom from us
is greater than the love for freedom itself...
what other hopes can my old heart host than the
hope that I... were never born?"
And the valley finally met the mountain, and a heavy iced rain
fell.. and the world's voice whispered to the empty nests...
I WANT YOU TO KEEP ON, WITH THE WORK YOU HAVE BEEN DOING!
================================================================================
Note 168.32 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 32 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 44 lines 1-JUN-1993 16:23
-< A History Textbook >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
[Excerpt from a History Textbook]
In their effort to reach the farthest planets of Eta Carinae and
settle in World 5540 and on either side of the Great Nebulae
Wall, the species of planet Earth seem to have been helped by a
series of favourable conditions. One was the increased
accessability of Eta Carinae itself, based on the discovery of
the queltron processes and the control of the CPT violations
derived from the knowledge acquired after the introduction of the
zeering scheme into their physics.
Furthermore, we should also consider specific skills and the
level of evolution achieved by the planet, which enjoyed an open
and liberal society which fostered a high degree of
self-expression, encouraging self-confidence, a spirit of
initiative, enthusiasm for action and even adventure.
The physical characteristics of planet Earth did not allow them
to establish a lasting settlement in it, nor in any other planets
of their Solar System, which by that time was a non-binary
system. In order for their society to thrive and develop they had
to look elsewhere, exploring even as far as Lemnos, in the cold
region of Moab. In order to make this exploration efficient, it
was vital to have permanent inhabited bases where the explorers
could take shelter, repair any damage to their starships, rest,
and replenish their food and water supplies.
But for the first time in the history of planet Earth, the desire
to explore other planets was not solely driven by trading
decisions, but by the deep and sincere wish to broaden their
knowledge of distant worlds: a desire that had spurred on the
peoples of planet Earth for centuries.
It is this spirit of curiosity what made planet Earth a fantastic
and amazing planet, yet in that curiosity lay the seeds of its
decay, a decay that deserves a deep study as it is the one and
only example of a non-binary system which hosted one of the
greatest civilizations in the entire Universe... yet, precisely
for this reason, a decay which causes surprise and sadness...
================================================================================
Note 168.33 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 33 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 42 lines 2-JUN-1993 16:34
-< A Bioengineering Textbook >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
[Excerpt from a Bioengineering Textbook]
Seen as a whole, the spread of the species of planet Earth along
the galaxy appears as an impressive phenomenon, the result of
great initiative and great space engineering skills, undoubtedly
fostered by prospects of entering in contact with other
civilizations, but later reaching well beyond the circumstances
of history.
There has been a great deal of discussion about why, and above
all how the great phenomenon of the expansion of the peoples of
planet Earth along the galaxy suddenly stopped and, more
mysterious, why this sudden cease occurred.
From the genetic point of view, it has been already shown that to
get explicitely all Earth-specific species one has to combine the
ADNyem molecules with queltron-like bases. However, this produces
expanding and self-exterminating species, of which mankind is but
a dramatic spinoff. To generate new chromosomatic vectors from
old ones such that the level of ethical quality be increased, we
have to hand the isometry transgenic operations of the kernel
DNA, which is always a delicate transformation.
Recall that the beings evolving from such a process are also
fitted with the capability to steer their future... and that the
species of planet Earth had already by that time... the
technological means to perform their own investigations in
genetics... yet the required ethical system was poor or even
lacking.
The creation of horrible beings through this mechanism must
therefore be termed an aberrant groping of mere protoscience, the
work of minds which might have been capable of true natural
science if that had been possible in their time.
But that possibility was not genetically coded in the species of
planet Earth...
================================================================================
Note 168.34 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 34 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 29 lines 2-JUN-1993 16:47
-< Technotao Bioethics Engineering >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have seen your schools... and I know you have everything at reach.
But get offended once more tonight:
Do you *really* believe you can become a true Taoist when
deep inside you you consider us mere priests who chant sutras
and conduct temple worship?
But of course, pretty face, you know nothing about the scientific
technologists who mastered metallurgical alchemy and all the other
crafts. Those were the Taoists that you find now illiterate people...
I will tell you something and, please, do get offended... once more:
Meditation means personality integration, but you
first need to acquire enough humility to follow
in the steps of Taoists and Buddhists of old.
You make me feel sick. Hve you ever tried to study with your EEGG
recorders the brain activity during deep meditation? And what did you
find, my friend? Anything similar to coma? No; anything similar to
waking state? No; to sleep, perhaps? No!
You always miss your alpha-waves in your readouts, and have no
explanation for that. Try to compare those EEG recordings with those of
an autist when deeply absorted... and find for yourself this new gift
I'm giving you now.
Yes, I know, there is yet new neurotransmitters to be fully
investigated, but those... I cannot give.
================================================================================
Note 168.35 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 35 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 6 lines 2-JUN-1993 16:51
-< Wittgenstein Revisited >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You are rational, just because you sit on top of a mountain made with
statements and axioms that do not represent an empirical knowledge
about reality but, rather, that make possible acquiring that knowledge.
Think about this.
================================================================================
Note 168.36 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 36 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 1 line 2-JUN-1993 16:53
-< Colors >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The world does not demand a unique system of colors.
================================================================================
Note 168.37 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 37 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 7 lines 2-JUN-1993 16:57
-< Men At Work >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
... because only when I see that you apply the knowledge
you acquired can I assert that you have really understood what was
taught to you.
Learning, knowing with no application is sterile. But take care
tonight: are you sure nobody is going to get hurt when you apply your
knowledge? How sure?
================================================================================
Note 168.38 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 38 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 59 lines 5-JUN-1993 08:20
-< Brothers Of Mine >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
We are made to think very hard about communication between human
beings and about ends and means, facing the question of what
really matters, and what real message was intended with that
crying, with that gesture, with that inscription on a ruined
wall...
The frustration and futility of mankind showed itself in each of
its achievements, be it the remains of a Mycean palace, or the
debris of a spacecraft found in a remote corner of the cosmos...
I still remember the discovery which had an everlasting influence
on us all, when we were a young civilization like you... and
traveled alone along the galaxies, until we met another
civilization and thought ourselves rich, for mankind is the joy
of mankind.
I still remember our first encounter in the island, and the
palace shinning so lightfully that few among us could have long
endured that unchanging brilliancy of light. We had often to
pause and clear our dazzled eyes as the whole palace was
surrounded by a blinding, blazing splendor, as if all the hot
stars had fallen from the sky into our eyes... Only at sunset did
the burning light become dimmer so that we could look at the
palace without distress. We felt, for a few ecstatic moments, the
gods of a new age!
But when we were about to enter the palace, eager to meet you, my friends,
when our eyes met for the first time, when our hearts stopped in
that last hour of our solitude... something exploded... and a
thick smoke and heat surrounded us, as if we just had descended
to where the sun is turned to darkness... the black depths of the
unknown...
We wished to meet you that afternoon, we wanted to come to you
for the first time, because the mind knows only what lies near
the heart, and nothing as close to you...
... than loving you, in your own beds...
But soon we learnt that the greatness of your civilization lay in
greedily seeking to gain the possessions of those under it. You
never understood that the entire cosmos was enough for us and
that we wanted you to keep what was yours...
I tell you now, my friends, that I grieve deeply that so many of
your sons have perished that afternoon that would have been
preserved for everlasting life if you had just accepted the glory
and perfection of the Universe without trying to change a single
quark of what was given to you.
Keep your forests, mountains, oceans, rivers, and
valleys: perhaps your descendants may need them in
future times just as much as we did... once.
================================================================================
Note 168.39 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 39 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 14 lines 5-JUN-1993 08:26
-< This Is My Planet, Too >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
You said to me when we were watching the beach where for the first time
the fish succeeded in becoming a reptile:
"Look carefully: you try to convince me that this world is also our
world, but I tell you now that you should go and persuade the pulsar
not to spin, for you will persuade me no more easily"
Aeons of obscurity were broken by the glint of a primaveal sun ray
reflected on my tears.
But this is my planet, too, and I am here to stay...
================================================================================
Note 168.40 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 40 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 57 lines 7-JUN-1993 16:00
-< Deathstruction >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
DEATHSTRUCTION
--------------
Evening was falling when you reached a lake with hilly shores.
Your eyes caught the last sunlight and the evening finally closed
around you, trailing amethyst mists.
You seemed far away from everything, buried in mere solitude...
but your soul was close to you and the moon was bathed by an
infinite dimeness over your head... as the stars ceased to be
reflected in those... your criminal eyes.
You reached the walls of a city where even the dead walk, but as
you were yourself dead... you did not care: armed with corslets
and greaves, hooks and featherless arrows and bows, you and your
army surrounded the city.
Your violent appetite to die made you fight fiercely all night,
until at daybreak you succeeded in putting the defenders to the worse.
You set fire to the palaces, destroying the walls, and burning to
the ground the whole place. Nights you spent listening to the
terrible screaming of men, women, and children... as they were
having a horrible death... burnt in flames... under your heartless
look. Yes, so tragical a sight did not torment your soul.
And when the city was completely destroyed, you walked about the
ruins gathering the fruits of your deadly harvest for which no
man or animal has scattered the seed... but just you... alone.
The world for which mankind carved its stone so carefully was
definately dead. Through thick smoke you wandered, blowing on
ashes here and there, trying to get the secret which mankind had
no longer: the happy secret of being alive.
But in passing by a ruined house you heard the agonizing weep of
a child... the only survivor... and you violently rushed into the
house just to find a woman who hanged herself with her young
child hanging from her neck... and the torch in her hand, with
which she gets to fire her child... before you can take again
your payment in blood...
Wrath invades your heartless soul and you hit with contempt the
woman's face... the kid weeps no more... and a heavy rain starts
to fall over the corpses.
Aeons later you navigate across the galaxy in search of a new
world. But tell me, my friend:
Do you really believe we have forgotten your
deeds of that evening, when you ruined your...
SELF?
================================================================================
Note 168.41 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 41 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 15 lines 7-JUN-1993 16:06
-< The Second Berry >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
Nice race of powerful travellers you are: you dared to eat a second
berry because the first had not killed you.
This kind of risks you run them once in a million years, like when you
timidly jumped from the sea to the ground... like when you were
trembling like kids when you sailed past the Hercules pillars... like
when you put your feet on the New World... like when you landed on the
Moon's surface...
like when you crossed the last frontier...
... to finally die, with a bitter berry in your lips.
================================================================================
Note 168.42 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 42 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 8 lines 7-JUN-1993 16:09
-< ... longer than you do >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
Never forget that all your ruins will last after you... longer than you
do. And therefore, beautiful face:
Wouldn't you take care enough in carefully nurturing that your
everlasting soul?
================================================================================
Note 168.43 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 43 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 11 lines 7-JUN-1993 16:14
-< Deus Ex Machina >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
I have seen the slow rise of mankind from darkness... its brief
perfection once met but never kept... and its long decline.
I have seen you swimming in hard waters, yet gaining the coast.
And I have seen your beautiful eyes filled with tears under a desolated
starless sky. That is why I extend towards you my hands, despite I know
for sure that the fire your heart kindles is not your own fire.
================================================================================
Note 168.44 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 44 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 9 lines 7-JUN-1993 16:18
-< Mastering the Balance >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
You build up your progress by constantly taking decisions, and your
entire life therefore is but a long training of the judgement and the
will.
You should master the art of careful balance between your brain and
your soul, for otherwise the age of greatness will wither... for you.
================================================================================
Note 168.45 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 45 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 8 lines 7-JUN-1993 16:20
-< Sunlight Law Rules >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
You can be the master of the Universe... if that pleases you.
But it is the sunlight law that rules that Universe...
... my blind friend.
================================================================================
Note 168.46 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 46 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 70 lines 12-JUN-1993 17:11
-< QM Law Rules >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
A historian reasons his way towards the chronology into which he
finds it right to fit the events. This practice is surely the
proper function of any historian who, like a juryman, has to sift
the available evidence and decide on the relative credibility of
its different parts.
We do the same in cosmology, imposing the causality structure
onto the Universe we explore. But here there is the additional
difficulty that causality conditions differ from chronology
conditions: we know for sure that effect X presupposes the
existence of cause Y, but we do not know the exact moment in
which the causal relationship is established. Using a Franson
device we can test the Einstein-Podolsky-Rosen paradox, that is,
we can spontaneously downconvert a 2k-photon into an entangled
1k-photon and our coincidence detector will beep... no matter how
far away our filters are... therefore proving that the photon, as
a physical entity, has been simultaneously in two places.
In order to solve the paradox, we postulated advanced Green
electromagnetic waves, as if the photon could explore a complete
wavelength ahead working out its path thru the spacetime. But
this hypothesis is now discarded. Despite no explanation
satisfies our souls, we are now exploiting this quantum
mechanical effect to devise a truly massively parallel computer
based on a VLSI optoelectronic chip implementing a Franson
version of the EPR-paradox. The use of spatial light modulators
as the downconvertors and of a coherent light emitting diode as
the photon emitter makes it specially difficult to finetune the
computer... but the results worth the effort.
In the Advanced Supercomputer Engineering conference, to be held
in Bath in September 1993, sponsored by the Wessex
Institute Of Technology, some researchers, including our group,
will be presenting papers and prototypes of these new quantum
computers. A nice application was that computing the mass of the
proton to an accuracy never ever obtained before, or the
key role that such a computer played last winter in decyphering
most of the genetic code of the DNA molecule that remained intact
in the histologic tissue of the a corpse dating 4,000 years back.
This, in particular, opens new paths to the effective cloning of
such DNA material... although we now know that the creature
emerging from such genetic material will not resist the simplest
viral attack to which our organisms get used nowdays.
A third application involved the connection of the computer to
the surface electron-scan microscope of our university in order
to allow the microscope to take real-time nondemolition-like
measurements of cells affected by AIDS. This application raises
the possibility that as genetic and viral agents for the syndrome
have been ruled out, environmental influcences become suspect.
In few words: the QM computer, in its still very preliminar
realization, has already helped us in progressing in key reasearch
fields, such as genetic engineering, inmunology science, and
particle physics.
But the striking and remarkable fact is that we still do not
completely understand its functioning, for we lack an explanation
of how a photon can be located in two places simultaneously, yet
not breaking the causality structure to which we have got used.
The same sensation invades me at night...
when I try to understand how is my brain designed...
... that it itself does not know how it works...
================================================================================
Note 168.47 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 47 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 33 lines 12-JUN-1993 17:31
-< In Search Of Light >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
He was meant to be a gipsy, and liked to see the Universe for the
pleasure of seeing it, and only the necessity of reproducing
itself made him think of women at all.
He had the opinion that any marriage has an expiration date, and
that whether one accepts it or not this was a real fact:
marriages lasting more than the due date were known to him as mere
compassion... but not love.
He was intelligent, but even intelligence in him was just a
resource to understand the Universe... it was a mean, you see,
and not an end in itself.
He was taken to the front-line in Lebanon, an evening of 1982, as
for the State he was a number: number 1509, Unit Hayaash.
The happy secret of being alive, I told you before, he had lost
it at dawn, when 'the others' caught us in a cross-fire. I was
not there, but I met the guys who recovered his corpse:
a star of David pending in his neck,
and his words in a pure and soft Samarian
Hebrew talking to me just the day before:
"... and therefore, Ruben, there are not
so many places left where the light reigns
without interruption... and of all those
I know, Moab is... the most magical..."
================================================================================
Note 168.48 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 48 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 50 lines 13-JUN-1993 01:53
-< Flies in a Webnet >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
[The dream of a fly is knowing the exact location of every
webnet, and it is in the pursue of this knowledge that many flies
find death... deadly trapped in an immense webnet
formed by stars... the center of which is called... planet
Earth...].
The road goes with difficulty thru afternoon shadows and slanting
lights, so take care my friend... and carefully examine the path
in which you step your feet.
You must cross the river by the wooden bridge, but dare not to
look down, for the waters here are not transparent and, if you
fall, no hand will help you... my beloved friend.
Mind there: darting lizards of golden colour... and if they spit
at you, the fever will take its time to do a perfect job with
your nerve system... and you do not even imagine how distorted
your face can get under the bursts of terrible pain... here in
the desert. Clouds of buzzing flies there: this is a death-trap
from malaria, you see...
But I will show you the way, provided you can resist the walking
on ashes and the airless environment here... Thirsty? Tired
perhaps? Feet bleeding? Well, maybe your miserable look will help
the snakes not to have a bit on you. But wait, we are reaching
the end of the road.
Now, take a rest, deeply breath... but never relax or the desert
ants will drink your blood as if the most exquisite wine... Sit
and listen, my friend:
You wanted to go in search of light,
and I am showing you the way. Stand up now
and look upon a glorious sight:
... the sight of a landscape where the rivers
are veins and your cities the cancer of a
sick-spreading civilization born from the ashes
of a frightened ape.
But I love you much, for there must always be an interest in
geography among the space-going peoples as you... specially
today, in an age where there are no maps to speak of...
... though everything is written in light.
================================================================================
Note 168.49 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 49 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 15 lines 13-JUN-1993 02:04
-< Hubble, Reverted >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
Your scared eyes looking at me from deep inside the space gives
me a comfortable human warmth. Thus... how would I wonder that
such a look gave light to the many lives inside me?
Ah! No life is wasted that can remember what I have seen in those
your eyes, my friend!
The stars, and not You, should have a look to those shimmering
bright eyes!
... the eyes of the beautiful losers...
================================================================================
Note 168.50 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 50 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 55 lines 16-JUN-1993 00:26
-< Be you, as you are here to be... You >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
You must accept this fact: change is inevitable. Therefore tread
carefully if you do not wish to perish as the brightest of the
stars you once was.
Consider the mess in which you find yourself today. Your eye is
caught every minute by a new event affecting your tomorrow, and
you fight to control the consequences of that event as the myriad
things around you keep on flowing unconcernedly... and your life
is wasted in this battle, in which you drift thru the ups and
downs... confused in the middle of the mess in which you find
yourself.
Consider yourself at birth, and while growing, and when in decay,
and finally... consider your death: persistence in living brings
death as a reward.
In fact, everything you do you really do it for the others, and
that kills your mind. But also, everything you do you do it
against the others... but nobody takes care of your "self". Your
soul fades away in a slow internal process... until you end up
with a complete lack of spirit... confused and tired. In the
pursuit of perfection you die, and in dieing you live again...
but your heart was not cared for, my friend.
Tell me with a sincere look: are you busily seeking to amass
riches? Are you now so blind seeking your own eyes? Are you
finally deaf in hearing your own voice?
Try to master stillness, be enlightened floating on iridescent
clouds, under the colorful torrent of your "self". And if you do
not know how to keep your "self" alive... why do you shrug your
shoulders and pass by as if it were already dead? Have an
inquisitive look inside you tonight, sitting in the still center
of your "self". Open your spirit and listen to it:
You are the eternal YOU, one of the most wonderful
beings existing today, not a mere animal engaged
in the sheer business of survival.
You are the human race itself, my friend, and you
bear responsibility for your own "self".
Consider again the mess in which you find yourself... and tell
me again, moonview...
Would not be that the mess is but inside you?
Is it not now time for a deep change?
Yes, try to be you once more... not for the others... not against
the others... but just for the sake of your... SELF.
================================================================================
Note 168.51 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 51 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 25 lines 19-JUN-1993 01:54
-< Cretan Song >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
I do not weep for the many dreams I know will never come true,
but for that day to come in which I will have no dreams... anymore.
I sit in an awesome seaside under a dark starry sky, leaning my head on
a cold rock, ageless... staring at the sea... in the softness of the
air as a quasarain of golden shimmering dust-flakes fall over me.
I know bright stars give rise to new worlds, and it is in this
stillness of the night that glacier-fed waterfalls cascade into my
eyes, as I now fall sunwards, slowing embracing its flares...
And I see History and Past in each of the moon's craters... as I love
them like the many wrinkles that Time silently sculpted in my heart...
And the Cretan song goes like this:
Weep not for the eagle
who must fly in the rain:
Keep your tears for a bird...
... that has no wings...
================================================================================
Note 168.52 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 52 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 26 lines 21-JUN-1993 16:49
-< Nub of the problem >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
It is a baseless hope, my friend: atoning for death by death.
I know of your crying need to find a friend, someone who believes in an
endless dawn... just like you do. Someone you can hold by the hand to
see the light... and be enlightened together...
But sleep in deep, my kid, for the nub of the problem is this:
while your brain manages the situation, your soul fight it!
Atone for death by death if that pleases you, atone for death by death
if you like it: I remember the day I explained to you about Justice
until the night fell over us... and I remember you writing down
everything that was said... writing in the darkness... and just by dawn
you finished your writing and you called it 'the Law'.
For God's sake, my friend... what justice can you expect from a book
written in the darkness?
Atone for death by death, as you wrote in the first page with blood...
when I simply said...
do we all believe in an endless dawn?
================================================================================
Note 168.53 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 53 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 18 lines 21-JUN-1993 16:56
-< Path to the inside >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
This is the tale of a journey, a journey to the inner part of You. And
I am not the traveller... but the path...
I know I will die alone and vile, for my pride was returning blood for
my blood shed. I know I am a coward, too, for I never cared for the
suffering of the others.
I know I am... what I know about me, what I hide to the others... what
I hate in me...
But I will follow the path until I reach the center of my... self...
even if this is the bitterest pain I ever felt...
for in knowing what I really am... I will really be.
================================================================================
Note 168.54 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 54 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 21 lines 26-JUN-1993 02:10
-< The increasing complexity of thoughts >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
Consider now the ever increasing complexity of the thoughts to be
expressed. And consider now the opposite effect of a language not
evolving with that same complexity: either you invent a new language to
express yourself or you must keep silent... for ever.
Imagine then that you have a new syntax which allows you to combine
your feelings in a totally different way in order to convey new
meanings to the ones you love. They would have to deduce the syntax
from your eyes and not from written documents...
But because the function of your language was information only, without
really taking care of the facts of nature, we all finally ended looking
each other without moving our lips. And there was so much to be
expressed, so much to be said, so much to be felt... that we soon
surpassed the possibilities of the language... but had no new ways to
keep communicating...
That is why we look at you, though you do not see us.
================================================================================
Note 168.55 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 55 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 26 lines 26-JUN-1993 02:25
-< Theory Of Chaos >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
------------------
Obviously, the time will arrive when the system fails to do what
the users want and it has to be revised. It will probably be too
expensive to go back to the origins in order to correct the
underlying erros and rebuild the entire system.
Instead, ad hoc maintenance is carried out: new laws are enacted,
new discoveries are administered by a few affecting the whole, new
methods implemented. But even then the system will develop
baroque features that will eventually cause its downfall.
Trial and error in the analysis is one of the diseases of system
analysis and it later manifests itself as maintenance diseases.
Creating a Universe is difficult, even if one simply intended to
create his own world in order to cope with the external reality
in which he is pemanently living. Frustration and insatisfaction
arise because we do not understand the mechanisms of the new
inventions and how they affect our lives.
Yes, my friend, the system tends to chaos, and chaos inavades
your private world, too. You do not need a system:
what you need is to organize your... self.
================================================================================
Note 168.56 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 56 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 99 lines 3-JUL-1993 03:37
-< Background >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
... but the project took several years to be completed. The ideas
behind this novel system were difficult to understand by the vast
majority of researchers. The now usual reluctance of
antrophologists and archeologists to use computer-based methods,
and the insulting ignorance of computer scientists towards
archeology, made the creation of the working team a nightmare.
Finally, the team was set up and the necessary fundings gathered.
We spent most of the first two years analyzing remote sensing
images. The region selected was Moab, to the south-east of
Israel, extending both into Israel and Jordan and, therefore,
political problems arose. When the required authorizations to
visit the area were granted, another entire year was wasted.
The geographical information system worked perfectly: it allowed
us to finetune our classification of the most likely areas where
ancient settlements of Moabites could be found. Thousands of
synthetic aperture radar images were analyzed, old rivers were
detected, roads uncovered, cultures areas designated... and three
previously unknown villages were spotted. We then departed fitted
with our nicest toy: a computer-based expert system with
thousands of rules on Moabite language coupled to an extremely
accurate CCD camera able to scan a lacuna in seconds and perform
linguistic analysis in situ.
The language of the inscriptions found were undoubtly classified
as Moabite native language with some expressions in the Syrian
Semitic dialect, very closely related to Hebrew and in particular
to the Israelite dialect, yet possesing some affinities with
Aramaic dialects. Three lacunas were extracted, polished,
SEM-analyzed, thoroughly investigated... but the system failed in
translating for us the last few lines... which had defeated
reconstruction by the X-ray module.
The experts entered into hot discussions: whether the system of
weights was of Babylonian origin or not, whether that particular
sign was a nun, showing therefore no Canaanite connection but
denoting an Egyptian connection, whether that word was to be
interpreted as the ancient name of the month thus suggesting
early summer instead of a weight measurement...
Nevertheless, we gathered lots of evidence in favor of the theory
stating that Moab was a very advanced region in its time. The
language seemed to be quite good to express complicated thoughts
and abstractions, the mathematical signs employed suggested a
mathematics which knew the foundations of topology, the texts
allowed to infer a highly developed social organization... and
the constant absence of references to gods or to any kind of
religious questions was particularly striking to the experts.
The last two years were used in organizing all the material. The
remotely sensed images were attached to the descriptions of the
area investigated, covering some houndreds of square kilometers.
However, no conclusions were drawn. Moab was for many reasons a
mystery for archeologists. For us, devoted to characterize the
area in terms of magnetic fields, soil composition, and
cartographic structures, the area was also a mystery: no other
area on planet Earth, so far analyzed, showed so extreme
readouts.
And when we were about to unfold part of the mysteries... the
funding was withdrawn... the Israeli authorities denied the
required permissions to extend the investigations claiming that
our integrity could no more be guaranteed due to recent political
events... and all the material gathered during these years were
retired and transferred to a strange organization of which
existence we never ever heard before.
All members of the team were assigned to different projects, some
of them reallocated to other universities, and the satellite
images I loved during all these period disappeared...
They told me I should better apply my knowledge and expertise to
more profitable research fields, and that if I still wished to
apply my crazy theory to archeology, I should better try
investigating Tartessos, or Mycenas... but they explicitely
prohibited investigating on Moab. No reasons or explanations were
given to me.
But they gave me a check, and a 3-month holidays to go anywhere
in the world I wanted to. "Thank you" I said, "for now I am free
to travel on my own... to Moab".
My boss was serious to me: "Go to Moab or go to the hottest
corner in hell if you please. But you run the risk to loose your
job, guy... and I would not be able to keep you with us".
Yes, I went to Moab again, with no computers at all, no scanners,
no sigproc toys... but my soul and my eyes... and the strong will
of learning every grain of sand of that desert.
This is my planet, too, and I can travel anywhere I wish.
================================================================================
Note 168.57 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 57 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 7 lines 3-JUL-1993 16:47
-< Anaxarchus Theory >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
Anaxarchus theory of the infinite number of possible worlds made
Alexander the Great the saddest man on Earth, for after having
conquered the known world at his time... he reflected he had not even
conquered the one... he knew.
================================================================================
Note 168.58 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 58 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 6 lines 3-JUL-1993 16:49
-< Anaxarchus Theory >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
Nowdays, Alexander is remembered for the extreme length of his march as
no man ever went as far as he did. But nobody seems to remember the
wise explanations of his master, Anaxarchus...
================================================================================
Note 168.59 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 59 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 8 lines 3-JUL-1993 16:51
-< Anaxarchus Theory >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
Expressed with modern terminology Anaxarchus' theory postulates the
existence of supermanifolds, a superanalogue of flat Minkowskian space
that look only locally like flat superspace. This basically means that
space is Hausdorff topology, id est: it is separable... into many
spaces...
================================================================================
Note 168.60 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 60 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 11 lines 3-JUL-1993 16:53
-< Anaxarchus Theory >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
------------------
Anaxarchus theory is now formulated in an elegant manner in the so
called Kaluza-Klein cosmologies, in which the effective number of space
dimensions is time-dependent...
These cosmologies were all postulated in the 80's, and the most
relevant for our journey is the supergravity theory. This thoery nicely
postulates a universe for which the maximal dimension turns out to
be...
================================================================================
Note 168.61 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 61 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 4 lines 3-JUL-1993 16:54
-< Anaxarchus Theory >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
... eleven...
================================================================================
Note 168.62 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 62 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 10 lines 3-JUL-1993 16:56
-< Anaxarchus Theory >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
The theory successfully explains why we experience only four dimensions
thru a mechanism called 'spontaneous compactification'.
But the theory fails to explain why the remaining seven dimensions are
compactified into 3 space dimensions... and just 1 time dimension. The
possibility is therefore opened for universes of 3 time dimensions and
just 1 space dimension...
================================================================================
Note 168.63 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 63 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 12 lines 3-JUL-1993 16:59
-< Anaxarchus Theory >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
But before we can start dreaming of how such a universe would look like
to us, we require to thoroughly explain the preferential
compactification towards four spacetime dimensions:
Consider the many phenomenological implications of a universe in which
the spacetime consists of three time dimensions and just one space
dimension.
Consider, just as an example, your... self.
================================================================================
Note 168.64 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 64 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 17 lines 3-JUL-1993 17:04
-< Anaxarchus Theory (original in Greek) >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
-----------------
Alexander, my friend... you are a shadow freely running thru a marble
corridor, a ripple suddenly splashing on a nacquered snow... among jade
cedar woods... you run... immensely lonely... under tamarisk arches...
... as if about to break to a golden dust on the path of mine eyes...
immaterial... self-contained... in black velvet bristles... scattered
like the many stars... fused with light... identical at birth... fading
in death...
My friend, do not you sail off to me as to a true friend?
Do we not in our wars against death, cast our hopes of salvation...
... on light?
================================================================================
Note 168.65 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 65 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 23 lines 2-AUG-1993 19:40
-< NGC 1333 >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY
-----------------
Because you previously defined your idea of intelligent life, you
automatically defined the way you could communicate with the others
outside there...
But because you were communicating in English, looking for a camel in
the Artic... your search of intelligent extraterrestrial life was
fruitless.
But you are young enough to keep on trying: with all your telescopes,
your deep space probes, your space X ray detectors, looking in the
infra red... listening to any source of energy in space...
Yes, let me tell you what are you looking for exactly: you are
searching for your mother. That's all. Kids afraid in the darkness
calling for mum. Your entire life has been a search for the face of a
mother... and this is why NGC 1333 exerts a powerful influence on your
observations... a dim galaxy... a distant faint glint in your CCD
cameras...
But mum is not here, my kid... for how long are you going to weep?
================================================================================
Note 168.66 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 66 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 46 lines 2-AUG-1993 20:01
-< Knowledge Streamers >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY (cont.)
------------------
The kind of civilization you are looking for is quite similar to
yours. This is not a remarkable result: it is just the result of
a biased search, you see.
Only those understanding your message, communicating with you
using the same channel... and a similar code... are like you are.
But have you tried to look for a friend inside you? No, you just
look for him among the myriad galaxies. You select those galaxies
having stars with a planetary system similar to yours. You then
discriminate the candidate stars by selecting those with the
higher probability of having an atmosphere similar to yours...
and, at the end, you will find a civilization quite similar to
your own civilization. How could it be otherwise?
But think about this: there is a knowledge stream somewhere
outside. Those who discover the way to connect to the stream will
surely find a way to decode the aeons of knowledge coded into the
stream. And then... thousands of different civilizations will
keep in touch, exchanging knowledge, feelings, discoveries,
dreams... and it is really wonderful tat you can only communicate
without seeing each other... without actually shaking hands...
for this Universe was designed in such a way that we
all need each other in order to decode the message.
The smallest planet, the darkest one, the hottest, the
biggest... and in those planets, every being is needed,
too... the red, the blue, the green, the black, the
white... everyone has a goal... a contribution to the
globality of the Universe...
even you... my friend... even the dead or the living...
we all need each other: that is why we made the Universe
so vast, so huge, so extremely limitless... and that is
why the maximum speed cannot be exceeded by any single
civilization alone.
It is a perfect dynamical system: each planet is a local
minimum, but the sum of all civilizations defines the
global minimum of the entire system. Therefore, keep
watching the stars and join us in the knowledge stream.
================================================================================
Note 168.67 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 67 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 25 lines 2-AUG-1993 20:13
-< Screaming >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TALE OF A JOURNEY
-----------------
Bellatrix or Rigel, Monoceros or Menkalinan, Aldebaran and Alcyone,
Syrius and Mirzan... and in Fornax they have a song for kids going like
this:
muhlifain shaadir kellah elnath!
elnath regar kaisef sef alheena!
Ypsilon Eridani... but always, always NGC 1333... like if the galaxy
was permanently stuck to your telescopes, like if it something were
going wrong with you and not with NGC 1333...
Now it gets closer, no glint came, nobody gets the code.
I do not need you close to me when I am vomiting, and being in bed with
you was like sleeping in the coolest bed in the darkest of the nites!
Monoceros et Bellatrix et Aldebaran et Arturo et Callisto...
Each galaxy in half a pixel... and the display got filled with light.
There was no room for NGC 1333, yet NGC 1333 has plenty of room for
your... self.
================================================================================
Note 168.68 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 68 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 12 lines 2-AUG-1993 20:19
-< The Mirror >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE MIRROR
----------
No wrinkles, yet you are old and tired.
No red shift, yet I feel you go.
No life other than a shadow, yet someone else is now knocking at your
door... and is trying hard... blood in his fist... but you are so much
busy analyzing data that you did not hear the bell ringing.
Even after your vomits, we will try the best of our kisses, my friend.
================================================================================
Note 168.69 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 69 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 16 lines 2-AUG-1993 20:26
-< Faithless Believers >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
FAITHLESS BELIEVERS
-------------------
Honestly, I do not think we have the right to do it.
Doing it is risky, unless we take so many safety measures
that the whole thing becomes unfeasible.
But there is lot of blood in any birth, you know, and stress, and
suffering, and lot of sweat, but once is over, there are two new small
brightful eyes looking for light... crying... and then the eyes of the
mother...
That worths more than a thousand contacts with them!
... then only thing I want to see for ever: new eyes
meeting your tired eyes... my earthie friend!
================================================================================
Note 168.70 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 70 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 11 lines 2-AUG-1993 20:32
-< A discovery >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
DISCOVERY
---------
Imagine I tell you there is a sparkling diamond inside that little box.
And imagine you open the box and find a little pig bleeding.
Oh, well! I was just kidding!
... even when I find this depressing...
[the little pig has two wonderful amethyst eyes bleeding in ruby]
================================================================================
Note 168.71 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 71 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 11 lines 7-AUG-1993 21:29
-< N327+ Axonal Channel >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE OBSESSIVE GEOMETRY OF THE INNER WORLD
-----------------------------------------
Asperger syndrome. Autism nowdays. And the kid keeps doing things
nobody else understands. He failed all psychological tests, and was no
outsider at anything. He was a mere, simple, gray autistic.
We decided to make a visit on N327+, a cholinergic axonal channel. We
found a rich and obsessive inner world.
But the kid wouldn't accept a caress... so we made our best for him...
================================================================================
Note 168.72 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 72 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 32 lines 7-AUG-1993 21:47
-< Hostile Environments >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The mother was destroyed: she never heard the word 'mum' spoken by her
kid. She never received a caress, neither a kiss, nor even a look.
Principle of no interference: the inner world is completely shielded,
hardened, closed to anything from the outside. No structural damage in
the brain as derived from a thorough neuroanatomy analysis.
Tomographic views reveals no more. Neuronal activity is apparently
normal; adrenergic inhibition behaves as expected, and neurodensity is
average. Synaptic plasticity and postexcitatory recovery is also
normal. Patterns are stored and retrieved as if the brain were in
perfect state. Processing of information, stimulii, thoughts,
feelings... is but a black box no one can open.
Everything points towards a genetic malfunction of which type or origin
is unknown. Or perhaps we are facing the result of a genetic adaption.
According to statistical data, autism incidence is increasing since
first detected as such. But they say this is just the result of a lack
of data from previous years and, in any case, genetic adaptions do not
occur in such a brief lapse of time.
They all agree, however, that autistic individuals are better prepared
to withstand hostile environments: heat and cold affect them in a more
adequate manner than affect 'normal' individuals. And then the power of
continuous concentration. Their minds are just 'self'... without a
pronoun... pure 'self'...
But, at the end, most of them experience a mental blockade and they do
not progress anymore.
But the woman does not care: she simply wished her kid to be normal.
================================================================================
Note 168.73 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 73 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 33 lines 7-AUG-1993 22:00
-< Phoenicians of Space >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Subject was labeled as NNA327. That means a lot, but it basically means
'inner world' located at N327+. Of course, you do not really get the
meaning of this. Never mind... anyway...
The approach started as expected: a flightover the synaptic area to map
it, correlate it and get the Gaussian 3D surface of the axonal
channels. Laser beaming corrected small structural errors, and neuronal
activity was maintained thru adrenergic-cholinergic fluid injection
modeled as per diffusion-limited aggregation. This is critical: you
invade an external area, and the subject would enter into coma. No
return here: mission is lost.
The genetic code establishing neurodensity and the fluid diffusion
ratio is already known and located; we therefore checked it for
correctness.
Thru PCR, we 'cut_and_paste' some sequences and removed the adenosine
chain.
NNA327 emerged after a 307 ms operation.
Because the family was living in a rural area of a non-developed
country, nobody noticed anything strange or abnormal in us.
We left a woman embracing a kid, immensely happy, as we were worried
because, for the first time, we violated the principle of no
interference.
The kid taught us a lot about the obsessive geometry of the inner
world, and we paid him for that. It was a trade...
... for we Phoenicians of the space like to trade our
knowledge.
================================================================================
Note 168.74 RETURN FROM MOAB [Rub»n was there] 74 of 74
ISIDRO::CARMENALVARE "Non-technical reader" 7 lines 16-OCT-1994 14:53
-< New skin in which to hide >-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Time foams around mine soul... seeing you from behind the trees...
whispering secrets from inside this my skin...
into which I hide... from myself.
Ruben.
................
................
In order to avoid copyright disputes, this page is only a partial summary.
To fulfill the demand for quickly locating and searching documents.
It is intelligent file search solution for home and business.