Just breathe

Includes a good link to an article about breathing and calmness.

Optimistic about the possibility of adapting to near-futures turmoil and political stresses.

“Because while I believe it is inevitable that humanity will cross this transition, it is not inevitable that all of us will. These turning points have generally been bloody and violent. But this time, we have tools and insights that may greatly reduce the suffering.

If we marshal ALL our forces and unleash them in meaningful ways.

If we work against the common enemy, today raising its head from the Authoritarian Right and Left and seeking to divide us, we have the tools to rapidly route around a lot of the damage they are doing. In this transition, success will not be driven by top-down processes of authority but by bottom-up approaches using distributed democracy.

While at this moment in the transition, it might be worthwhile to disconnect ourselves from those who anxiety prevents them from listening so we can more easily marshal our forces, at some point we have to figure out ways to re-incorporate them.”

I would have liked to have seen the list of tools and methods that the author thinks will “rapidly route around a lot of the damage they are doing”.

They are probably described in other posts of the blog. I will find out.

A Man With A Ph.D.

(This started as a comment on a Facebook thread. I wanted to memorialize it on my own blog).

TL:DR – Uncertainty is one of the main forces that prevents people from thinking deeply and analytically. Hard to reduce that today. But we will.
(yes, I realize that Facebook is not the best place for this long reply but Joe Brewer alway brings out my didactic side 😉


Start by taking a deep breath. Hold it for two beats then let it out slowly. Now take another one.

Uncertainty makes it very difficult for many people to move out of System 1, meme or heuristic modes of cognition. Even those who easily drop into System 2, analytic or systemic modes (which I would posit are most of us on this thread  ) can find it hard when we are anxious. When we have circumstances like today, when even people of good…

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Part Three

A report of the kinds of visual effects sometimes seen by non-voyaging people around people who are voyaging hard.

Itinerantdaughter's Blog

Sorry it’s taken so long to get here!

“Found Jeanne, my eight-year-old, asleep in Suzie Blue’s room on the top floor, her hair full of pincurls.  She had been planning on a dazzling and glamorous entrance at dinner time.  I woke her just enough to ask if she wanted to come on downstairs and join the festivities.  But just at this point, Ted Cook, who had been captured in the ruined formal garden behind the ‘meditation house’ was standing among the extra turkeys in the butler’s pantry, alternately shouting horrifically in some abrupt, violent fright, and murmuring beatific nonsense at those who were trying to calm him.  Jeanne listened to the noises from downstairs for a while, and decided judiciously to stay where she was.  She asked me to bring her a dinner, which I painfully did, handling cape and gown and tray most clumsily on the stairs.  She and…

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The Four Ages of Information. A Graphic Short Story/Article about the Birth of the Information Age

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The Long Lost – a Science Fiction short story combining mystery and hard sf themes

This story was an entry for a contest based on a Second Life sim called The Green Mire. A mysterious set of scenes was placed on a portion of the sim, and a hunt game was based on them, all suggestive of an alien landing. The stated intent of the contest was to write a story that explained the mystery and set the scene for further even more mysterious events to occur in the future. That is why the story takes the form it does, with so many assumptions.

This story did not win the contest, and I knew it wouldn’t, it was too exotic to use as an SL game. But I so enjoyed some of the ways the story was emerging from my creative mind I didn’t care, I was having too much fun writing it.

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The Long Lost

by Susquehannock

4000 light years away from the planet Earth, towards galactic center, an entangled quarks emergency beacon message instantaneously altered the spin of captive quark matter in a Version ship.

“I have a contact. Very old quarks.”, 142,791(Version of The People) announced on open radio wavelengths.

Every Version on the ship turned sensors towards Very Long Range Observations. Unencrypted radio waves were the deepship’s equivalent of emergency klaxxons.

142,791 flashed information links. The Version joined minds and reached consensus.

“Astonishing. It’s definitely the Long Lost. We must go to them, and go now.”, this thought was shared by all, as if each was the only thinker.

Their nanomatter bodies wove together, as they become one being, as well as one mind. They extended into the deepship, and fused with it’s millions of years of memories and ancient and wise superintelligence. All were one.


The One Version thought a command. “Prepare a hardball with a rescue gate for launch. Target the projected location of that emergency signal.”.

Hardballs were a very old technology, hyperdense exotic matter wrapped around a diamond computing core, built to do one thing. They were sent into raw wormholes to anchor a quantum gate at the other end, and the quantum gates were the basis of Version civilization. The fastest way to get help to the Long Lost would be to fire a hardball, loaded with the specialized nano needed to build a gate. When it was completed, Version could just step through the quantum foam and be There instead of Here.

The One Version loaded messages and instructions into the rescue hardball’s limited capacity, along with updates and as much rescue nanomatter as the hardball could carry, which was not much.

The deepship vibrated as the first of the spacebending computations completed, and the ship and the quantum foam underlying the universe completed their handshake. As information poured back and forth between the foam minds and the matter minds, the impossible become the certain to happen, and a microstar appeared, uncomfortably close, blazing fury as the energy differential dumped into this universe. It was a reverse black hole.

“Hardball launch.”, the one version thought. A pulse of electromagnetic energy threw the hardball at the reverse black hole, and it vanished.

Inside the reverse black hole the radiation and gravity waves were grinding down the protective shell of the hardball. It was already white hot. But traveling at millions of times the speed of light, distorting time and space as it did, the hardball would arrive a very short time after the message was sent.

The deepship couldn’t use a black hole, so it must follow at a much slower rate. The One Version added his final reports to the information streaming thru overspace to all versionkind, then melded itself into the matter of the deepship. The One Version thought to itself, “Accelerate.” The deepship computed, dickering with the foam, an agreement was reached, and a fold of spacetime wrapped around the ship and it too vanished.


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June 7, 2004, Earth, in the Green Mire.

“No. No, c’mon, you had it long enough, let me have it back, it’s my turn.”, a boy’s voice argued, loud in the night even with insects singing, gator croaks, and a million frogs joined in a frog chorus. The beams of flashlights danced behind the trees.

“Bugger Off!”, said another boyish voice. “I almost got it to work again, you couldn’t get it to do anything. You have to sing to it, see, like that other thing. Listen..”. The boys voice chirped, sounding much like one of the frogs.

The flashlight beams were suddenly outshone. A bright halfsphere of light appeared, revealing clearly, in the same way that lightning at night reveals a scene, the two boys holding an oversized helmet. The shape came alive with video scenes, streams of strange symbols, and what looked like flashing warning arrows.

Half of the shape was suddenly replaced by an odd, huge face. It seemed to radiate sadness. A voice vibrated out of the air, at first too deeply bass to be understood, but then it tuned, and become the soft voice of a grandparent.

“Boys, I’m afraid you are in terrible danger. You must do as I say, or you will will be badly hurt, and might die. Do you understand me?”. The rest of the symbols and imagery on the shape stopped moving. The face looked at them intently, like a very large, but very nice, troll.

“Ahhhhh – yes?”, one of the boys said.

“Now, then. right now, get behind that big tree, where the indicator lights from the helmet are pointing.” Bright green flashing arrows suddenly appeared in the shape of light the helmet projected, and the tree was outlined in bright green. The boys stood frozen. then in bright red a rapidly scrolling set of symbols appeared, outlined in flashing red and orange.

“NOW! Now or you are permanently dead and beyond my help!” This time the voice was like thunder. Another voice spoke in the background. “Use the sonics. Herd them. There is no time, Version will have sent a ball, it will time-brake, then it will emerge out of chaos somewhere near the beacon.”

Both boys screamed as something painful and invisible touched them, like being shoved by a burning wind, stinging their skin in a hundred places. It shoved again. Like rabbits the boys ran instinctively. Only one path did not hurt; straight to the big tree. They tried to keep running but their legs collapsed under them in cramps. Their natural physical intelligence took over from there, to escape the pain, they tried to get as flat as they possibly could in the little dip in the soil they found.

“Good job boys, good job.”, the grandfatherly troll said, his words and tone of voice soothing now. A kind of soft music seemed to be around them, one that made them feel relaxed and a bit sleepy. The music got louder and sweeter, and both boys relaxed completely. They felt very good, and safe, even tho the voice was telling them something about hurt.

Then the second voice spoke, followed by a third.

“Are we really going to do this?”, asked the second voice, the same one that had spoken before in the background.

Then the third voice, a new one. “I have filtered nano from each of us. It is sufficient for this, but it uses up almost everything we were keeping as a reserve. If rescue does not reach us soon, very soon, we will de-cohere. There will be no integral consciousness left, no organized memory, just agony and fear in a frozen shell.”

“We know, 70,821th,”, the first voice said, the voice of the kind grandfatherly troll, “we’re concerned also. Send the nano, then still your mind, and save your energy. We are sorry we had to wake you for this, but we needed your help, you were the best of us at complex nano. Send it, and then make yourself slow.”


Fine silvery threads began to float up out of the ground around the bodies of the boys. They floated like spiders threads, then began to wrap around them.

The nice troll spoke again, and this time it was speaking in their minds as well as through the helmet’s speakers.

“Boys, we’ve been asleep for a long time. We really didn’t think anyone would be able to turn on that control unit, but when you did, alarms woke us up. It was just junk, we thought, an entry on a list of things we’d lost over the centuries. We didn’t imagine anyone might be able to use it to activate the activate the beacon, but you two did. This is our fault.”

“Mind copies are at 68 percent. 70. Body copies are at 41 percent.”, said the second voice. “You know, it’s a shame we can’t send them to go get it, that controller would come in very handy. Especially if we could find that lost nano pack.”

Curiously, the boys understood what he meant. Somehow the threads – the “nano”, both boys thought in unison – was teaching them as it protected them. They understood now that nano was trillions of tiny robots, each microscopic robot smart on its own, and when linked together the resulting fibers were superintelligent and able to do miraculous things. And that right now the nano, instructed by the second troll, was making backup copies of them, just like they made copies of a file on their computers.

“Mind copy at 99. 100. I am uploading, and instantiating.” Like changing a channel, the boys were somewhere else.

“Hi there. My name is 70,836th, but my friends call me 36.”. They heard in their heads, like a particularly bright thought. The tree and the dirt were gone, they were standing in an odd place, a type of stone garden, next to an oddly shaped house made of very large stone blocks. 36 sat at a stone table. In front of him was a glowing shape of light like the shape that had come from the helmet, but table sized. “37, the boys are here.”

“It will be nice to have some company after all this time.” Another troll came out of the stone house, carrying a kind of stone bucket. The boys stood goggle-eyed as he pulled out old fashioned bottles of orange soda, popped off the caps with the flick of a big thumb, and handed one to each of them.  “You have not lost your touch, 36.”

“Don’t distract me, I’m getting their bioforms. Bring Skip and Tony up to speed. Oh, and if our Version sent a hardball as fast as possible after the beacon signal arrived, and you know they did, it will start to time-brake in local space in about 12 seconds, external time.”

“So there is no rush then, wonderful. You are an artist, my friend, I leave this in your capable hands.” The nicest troll held up a big hand, and wiggled his fingers. They both broke into big trollish grins.

“Tony”, nice troll said, looking directly into Tony’s eyes, “and Skip.”, looking at Skip. “Let me introduce myself. I am “nice troll” to those I have just met, but I hope we will be friends, and my friends call me 37.” The two boys eyes moved just enough to glance at each other. “No, no, you are absolutely right.”, 37 said, waving a hand as if to wave away their worry. “We do look pretty much like the drawings of the mythical trolls in your books. Look at this nose.” He turned his head so they could see his large hooked nose from the side. “That is definitely a troll nose. On my planet these noses are highly functional.” 37 made his nose tip move in a small circle, and the boys realized it was almost a kind of small elephant’s trunk. “Here, it’s a troll nose. But I’m used to it.” 37 grinned another big grin.

Then he sat up, and became somewhat more serious. “Boys, do you know where you are?” He watched them think. Skip and Tony looked at each other again, and as they concentrated their thoughts became clearer, and moved faster. The nano was improving them at an rapidly increasing rate. They felt as if they were able to concentrate days worth of animated conversation into that momentary glance.

“37, we think this is a kind of holodeck, or maybe a very clear dream, or something much like a dream. This is not really real.”, Skip said, waving a hand to indicate the stone garden and table.

“Holodeck? Hmmm. Star Trek, the later episodes, not the originals, right? Lasers and holograms, oh that is simply adorable. No, this is not a holodeck, this is more like a very clear dream, as you said. This is a simulation, a kind of imaginary world, and it is made for us by our nano. This is where we have been living, for 66 million years, waiting for our friends to find us and help us out of a little predicament. Let me show you where we ‘really’ are.” His big hands made air quotes as he said the word “really”.

Something like a tv screen appeared in the air. As soon as the boys looked at it, it expanded, giving them a perfect view. Of the three statues standing on platforms, where they had made the green pillar of light appear, and been given the helmet.


“That’s us.”, 37 said, and as he spoke, bright outlines moved from statue to statue. “I’m that one, and that’s 36, and that one there is poor 21. We made those foundations and stood on them about 10 million years ago. As the planet changes, ices ages, and seas rising and falling, we send out a very small amount of nano to repair and reposition the platforms and the beacon. And we wait.”

The boys looked at each other again. At almost exactly they same time, they both said, “And now we are in there too. With you. In the statues.” They paused for a moment, and this time in perfect unison, both asked, “Why? Why bring us in here?”

“Oh, you are quick.”, 37 said. “Your kind is going to be something special when you wake up. Yes, that is the important question.”

37 leaned forward again. “As I said, we have been waiting for friends to find us, because we are in a predicament. And it’s big. And I’m afraid that it puts your whole planet in danger, that is, we, us, we’ve put your whole world in terrible danger. A moment, please, gentlemen.” He turned his head to the other troll.  “36? Is it done?”

36 held up a big finger. “3, 2, 1… Got ‘em. Safe as houses, as long as the power holds out. But we don’t have enough power to regenerate them, and, not enough to do much of anything but sit in here. If the ball comes, if it can build a gate, if they find us in time, we’re great. If one thing goes wrong, we’re in a world of hurt.” He sighed, and pulled an orange soda out of the bucket, flicked off the cap, and took a deep swig. “And hardballs are not that bright, you know. Hey, this stuff is good. Really good. How? Oh, of course, our guests have actually tasted it, you got a flavor profile from the nano. What a treat.”

36 leaned toward the boys and happily saluted them with the bottle. “Thanks for the soda, guys!”

37 gave a speculative “Hmm”, and pulled out an orange soda for himself, decapped it, and took a hefty swig. “Whoa.”, he said, staring at the bottle, then he upturned it and downed it all. The boys looked at each other, and then chugged their sodas.

It was damn good orange soda.

37 turned back to the boys. “Where was I? Oh right. The danger.”

“I think I should show you our predicament, rather than telling you. It’s much faster, and you will understand it better when you see what we’ve seen. You’ve taken to the nano adaptations better than we expected, so – may I? This will be something like how I showed you the outside world.”

The boys shrugged in unison, then nodded. They murmured “cool” together as new memories began to appear in their minds. Not just memories, but memories they recognized, and knew, even tho they were not their own.


37, 36, and 21 had been piloting a scout ship, a sphere of hypercarbon-platinum composite and titanium steel, with space folding drives. Carrying captured war materials back for Version scientists to study. It was the AxOtl equivalent of nano, intelligent and programmed for war, and deadly. It had found a weakness in the containments, and taken over most of the ships systems before they realized they were in danger. The first indication anything was wrong was the ship suddenly falling out of foldspace, deep inside the boy’s home system.

The three Version tried to pilot the ship into the sun. But the AxOtl had too much control, and they wanted a biosphere to hide in. They started a course that would drop the ship into the third planet’s oceans.

The version had little choice. They told their nano to become an escape pod. But, as the pod formed, messages came from an area the AxOtl had sealed off. Version nano still controlled an area of the ship, which included the fusion thrusters. “We’ve converted to warfighting format and assessed the options for defeating the Axotl.”, the nano messaged. “If we try to break this ship out of a landing vector, the AxOtl will just bring it around again in a year. But, if we wait until the right moment, we can accelerate the ship and drive it deep into the planet’s crust, trapping them almost indefinitely. Does this have your approval?”

“Do it. And thank you.”, the three version thought as one. “Oh no, thank YOU. This is going to be so much fun.”, the nano sent back. Battle nano can be a little weird.

The escape pod wrapped itself around the three version, and used plasma rockets to push away from the main ship. It slowed and started a nice gentle fall towards the planet.

Ahead of them a star appeared, ten times brighter than the distant sun. The fusion drives. The sphere of the ship leapt , the star getting visibly dimmer. “There is a message encoded into the fusion drives visible light spectrum.”, the escape pod said to them. “Oh? Link it.”. The encoding was a video signal, it turned out. It showed an engineering chamber, and nano. the nano had formed itself in the shape of a Version, which was micturating on the chamber door, which was beginning to show the greens and yellow of Axotl virus forming at the tight joints. The urine was just for show, a stream made of nano, but the stream killed the green and yellow fuzz like a blowtorch, the nanos waging a microscopic war.

The nano simulation of a Version turned to the camera, still urinating an apparently inexhaustible stream. “Oh, hi guys! Glad we got thru! As you can see, everything is going great here. These old fusions really have some kick, we should do this kind of thing more often. Here, you’ll want this.” He sent a file. When opened it marked a trajectory and estimates of the result. “We are going to make a serious mess of that planet. This is no ordinary nickel-iron asteroid, we are going to punch right thru that soft carbonate and silica. The hole we make is going to instantly collapse under the gravitational pressure, and we are just going to sit out the rest of this one.” More files flooded through the connection, making the video go gray and splotchy and they filled the data pipe. “Encryption keys and some estimates of ways we may be able to talk. I’m thinking low frequency waves, I’ll just bang this ship like a bell and we can chat. Assuming I don’t get turned into an AxOt zombie, right?.”

“Anyway, the axo don’t like it too hot, from what we can tell, watching thru the ships eyes, they are already making an insulated cocoon in the middle of the ship, which means they are doing the same math that we are. It’s going to be them and us, smart plants and smart rocks, duking it out mano a mano just like in the old days before you brainers came along.”

The scene jerked and jilted suddenly. The nano in the escape pod filtered the audio, but something very intense had just happened.

The distant nano suddenly popped back into the screen, holes in it’s simulated face closing. “”Ohhh, man, they are REALLy pissed now. They must have realized we were talking. They packed the chambers around us with liquid oxygen and carbon, made a poor man’s sprengel explosive, and set it off, trying to shut down the fusions. Sucks to be them, because these sweet old girls are blazing.” The nano pretended to sigh, despite not needing to breathe,

A green square started flashing on the nano’s arm. It, he, raised both arms in the ancient victory sign. “That was our calculated point of no return, boss. It’s a done deal now. We are going down. And it is going to take some fancy engineering to get us back up again. This will give me some quality time. I’m thinking, catch up on my meditation.“

The nano disassembled its pretense of being a Version. It became a kind of multishape, thick ropy arms like an octupus radiating in all directions from a toroidal center, whispy tendrils containing sensors and weapons and manipulators filling the space around it in perfect radial symmetry
“They are pulling back to the core, and dragging everything they can possibly use with them. I’ve got to do a little scavaging myself  and dig in also. This part coming up won’t be so much fun. I’m going to use the fusion torches to send you as much unique consciousnesses as will fit. Take care of it.”

“We will”, said the nano of the escape pod. The version nodded.

“And guys. I hate to be a nag. But, don’t leave me in here with that plant forever. Dig us out.” the screen went dead. All in the pod could feel the data start to stream in, the stored experiences of the nano on the ship.

“Wow, that was heavy.”. said the pod nano.


The boys saw a brilliant flash on the surface of a blue planet, then a white shock wave that seemed to eat half the world. “It was the dino killer.”, they said in unison.

“The ship, our battle nano, and the Axotl are still down there.” said 37, showing more pictures. “the bad news is, it started to move about 20 million years ago, it’s coming up, and rising faster. I have not heard from my nano since the movement began. If the Axotl have won,  and are controlling the ship’s movement to the surface, and it chews it’s way up before help arrives, your species will be enslaved, turned into Axo zombies.”.

They were shown what would happen when the hardball arrived. Moving at millions of times light-speed thru the rip between universes that was a black hole, the hardball would radiate blasts of hard gamma rays when it emerged, certain death to every life form within three hundred yards, and sickening and mutating everything for a thousand yards further. The two boys had been well inside the hundred yard range.

“We would have been goners. Killed. No chance, right?”, they asked 37.  He nodded. “100% certainty of death, which is why you are in here now. In here, time moves at the rate we set, so we have time to talk. But out there only a little time has passed. We expect the hardball to break out of the wormhole about a thousand miles up. It will be moving so fast it would be thru the earth in billionths of a second.”

“Two seconds.”, said 36. “It might be late, but my bet is on two seconds.”

More lifelike movies began in the boys minds. Hardballs were dumb and dangerous, but they had enough programming and computational and effector power to do a few things, and they had one major trick, the thing that made them usable in the first place. They watched hardballs do this trick a number of times in their minds.

“Time Braking.”, said 36. “Cool, right? It’s massive cool. The one thing hardballs have way too much of when they emerge is speed. But nothing can move faster than light speed out there in the real. As soon as it breaks thru the rip, it MUST slow down by millions of times, to get to at least a tiny bit below light speed – and really, what use is it to be moving that fast, we want mr. hardball to go from millions of lights to about a hundred thousandth of a light, instantly. Long ago somebody realized the answer was simple. Since faster than light travel is time travel, and there is always an incredible excess of time everywhere, you have the hardball spin into timelike loops the instant it emerges. What happens is, the hardball spends about a million years flying in loops around your solar system, but these loops take in into different timelines.”

“Like Startrek.”, said the boys, grinning.

“Uhh, sure, sure, like that, what you said. So, it will be out there, radiating intense light and heat and radiation, going backwards and forwards in time, and as it loses energy it gets closer and closer to our time, and closer and closer to us in space. To us, it would look like a bright light up in the sky, and then a second later a white hot glowing ball appears out there somehwere, with one hell of a shock wave and killer gammas blasting everything. And then it plops to the ground, because it has used up all that energy by bending time. And in the last few nanoseconds this island is going to take a real kicking.”

37 interrupted. “Skip, Tony, after the hardball arrives, things could get a little complicated. There is a great deal you don’t know yet, and ways you can be very useful…”

Now 36 interrupted. “Gravity wave. It’s all about to go boom. Here, watch. this is not something one usually gets to see.

All four stopped, and nano played movies in their minds. A flash from above too bright to be believed, but mercifully short. The nano played a simulation, the hardball emerging, the atoms in the vacuum torn into blinding light by the tiniest shortest of impacts before it twisted and vanished, into the first of millions of timelike loops.

The simulation kept playing. The nano estimated it’s course, and marked hundreds of thousands of places where the hardball had once emerged, or would emerge, dropping energy as light and when it did. This was all much much too fast to see during the few times it happened to occur again in their 2004 timeline.

“Uh oh”, said 36. “Nano is projecting it’s going to bang around pretty close to us in the final timeloops. 37 you better…”

Then the movies that had been showing a view outside of the statues went white, then black, and there was a sound that wasn’t really a sound, more like an earthquake, the biggest earthquake possible.



Around the island,for many years, there had been reports of blasted heaths, burning lights, roars, horrible moments of pure terror. A police car found in the swamp, the policemen dead inside. Hundreds of gators belly up, giant waves of dead and rotting fish, strange frogs and hints of even stranger things. It attracted tourists and investigators and scientists – and one day a helicopter was smashed out oif the sky like a bug. Less people visited afterwards.

And on June 7, 2014, the whole distant end of the island, out where those old idols were, just blew up – but nothing was found.



June 7, 2004.

The hardball stopped, and dropped to the ground. “Good job!” it’s simple nano mind said. “Good spot. I build the gate here.”

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Searching for CC and public domain images for Eleusis and related keywords, I ran across this Psychedelic Psychedelia

Most of this piece seems to be about psychedelics and music, and is pretty predictable, but, in the context of my search, it caught my eye, and so to preserve it, and not lose it in the emptiness of bookmarks never revisited, I decided to toss it here – with the addition of a few images brought up in my search for legal to use Eleusinian Mysteries images.

INterview with Patrick Lundborg of Lysergia.com, author of the Acid Archives (2010) and Psychedelia (2012)


In the 20th century we began what I call ‘the short cycle’ of Psychedelia which began with peyote and mescaline experiments in the 1890s-1920s, then really took off with Hofmann’s discovery of LSD. The short cycle reached a peak in terms ofpopular attention in the late 1960s, then went into a quiet mode during the 1970s and 80s, and then it was revitalized in the early 1990s, with Terence McKenna replacing Tim Leary, and drugs like DMT, ayahuasca and psilocybin replacing LSD. Although ‘60s Psychedelia has been given much more attention, I believe the 1990s scene is just as important. The situation today is that the hedonistic spirit of the 1990s is very much alive, especially here in Europe, but it’s underground and deliberately low-profile. My book opens with the observation that more people are taking psychedelic drugs today than any other time – and that includes the psychedelic ‘60s. In short, Psychedelia is alive and well, and people involved have understood to keep outsiders at a distance. Today, you can go and see a movie like Avatar, parts of which are completely drenched in psychedelic ideas – there was even an ayahuasca drug ritual in that movie, though it was left out of the final cut. The commercially biggest movie of all time looks like it was made by someone who has been smoking DMT for several years – that’s good proof that psychedelic culture not only lives,but may in fact be expanding.




Psychedelic culture has been a permanent undercurrent in Western society since ancient times. This is what I call ‘the long cycle’ of Psychedelia. Psychedelic culture is built upon two fundamental pillars: the direct, personal experience of a higher world, and a celebration of our everyday existence in light of this experience. Both these elements go directly against the dogmas and hierarchies of Christianity, Judaism and Islam. During certain times this alternative culture rises to the surface and becomes influential on society at large, which is what happened in ancient Greece at the time of the Great Mystery rites in Eleusis, where thousands of people gathered each year to drink a psychedelic  brew (an organic variant of LSD) and spend an extraordinary night of visions and emotional bonding – kind of like an early Acid Test! 



This image above was what drew me to the article – someone had made a hand colored copy of a famous relief fragment now at The Met. “Demeter, the goddess of agricultural abundance, stands at the left, clad in a peplos and himation (cloak) and holding a scepter. At the right is Persephone, her daughter and the wife of Hades, the god of the underworld. She is dressed in a chiton and himation. Each goddess extends her right hand toward a nude youth, but it is no longer possible to determine what they held.  The boy is thought to be Triptolemos, who was sent by Demeter to teach men how to cultivate grain.“. This image (wikimedia commons)


It’s worth your time, I’d say, to go to the met site and use their very high res viewer to take a look at the best image of this relief that you will ever see anywhere.     http://www.metmuseum.org/collections/search-the-collections/248899

The article continues – nothing revolutionary for you and I perhaps, but, still – with a bit more on “the long cycle of psychedelics”.

All the famous philosophers and even Roman emperors took part in this ritual, which had a profound influence on the Greek-Roman culture that our Western world is built on. Another high-point for this alternative culture was the Italian Renaissance, where the heritages of Athens and Rome were rediscovered, and for a century or so this heritage raised more interest than the familiar Christian dogmas. Later in history one can identify singular individuals with an obvious relevance to Psychedelia, such as William Blake and his mentor-opponent Emanuel Swedenborg. In the early 20th century, psychedelic drugs entered Western society again, and this began ‘the short cycle’ that I describe above. The long cycle of Psychedelia will continue as long as mankind exists, while the future and duration of the short cycle currently going on is something for each modern psychedelicist to consider.
And, so as to pour a libation of kykeon – I Fell, I Looked, I Arose – I offer these. All Wikimedia Commons, CC.

Genrich Ippolitovich Semiradsky – Roma, 1889 – Phryne on the Poseidon’s celebration in Eleusis.


By Macron (Marie-Lan Nguyen (2011)) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Goddess performing a libation. http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Libation_goddess_Met_1979.11.15.jpg


Aurora’s Dance, fractal master piece.

An artist I have known for some time, since the halcyon days of Zaadz, just released a new piece which I think is particularly striking, the current final piece in a long series of striking fractal art.

It came up on one of my feeds, and I stared at it for quite some time. I decided to go grab the link and post it.

Keep in mind, it’s just the math that made this. This is not photoshop, not a construction. I don’t understand much about the way the fractal generation tools are used to make something like this, but, I gather it takes a long process of trial and error, of exploring beautiful oddities and mistakes and learning how to use them intentionally, days, months, and years of practicing with the tools until you operate them intuitively. This is so far beyond mandelbrots and the early fractal forms that they don’t seem like they could be connected.

But they are.

Art Prints

Sell Art Online2015-01-18 04_34_48-Aurora's Dance by Amorina Ashton - Aurora's Dance Digital Art - Aurora's Dance F

You should go look at it in a larger size. It’s worth the click, if you like that kind of thing.

By comparison, a mandelbrot:


Still pretty amazing, true enough. This one is from wikicommons mandelbrot zoom set.

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Buckminster Fuller, one of the brilliants who taught me how to use my brain and minds – a signifier

I was looking thru the internet to see if anyone had quickly available a few of the lines written by Bucky Fuller that had huge, paradigm rstructuring impact on the way I think, how i think about thinking, and the relatively uncommon ways I use my minds (note the plural), intelligences, and the body which hosts them.

So far I have not found those particular quotes, paragraphs, and stories. I may have to go to paper, and write them out myself, as a signifier and signal, to those who will find them useful in the future.

In the meantime, here are a few quotes, a preamble to the signal, bait for the elven and the edge.

“Most importantly we have learned that from here on it is success for all or none, for it is experimentally proven by physics that “unity is plural and at minimum two” – the complementary but not mirror-imaged proton and neutron. You and I are inherently different and complimentary. Together we average as zero – that is, as eternity.”
Richard Buckminster Fuller, Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth

“The universe is non-simultaneously apprehended”
Richard Buckminster Fuller


“Everyone is born a genius, but the process of living de-geniuses them.”
Richard Buckminster Fuller
“If you want to teach people a new way of thinking, don’t bother trying to teach them. Instead, give them a tool, the use of which will lead to new ways of thinking.”
Richard Buckminster Fuller

If, when you hear the name “Buckminster Fuller”, you think first of the geodesic dome and fullerenes, you have been cheated and robbed. Geodesic structures were one of his little things, a simple application of a way of thinking.

It is the way of thinking that was his great discovery, and we have mostly lost it.

You could find it again, you know. It’s not at all difficult to master. All you need do is try it. It starts working almost instantaneously.

Do you dare? Go to the paper.

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As fate has it, I am helping an old friend revive an old old website, Enlightenment.com

This is the "The Sorcerer": from the original letter/article by the Abbe Breuil, the grand old man of Cro-Magnon art studies.

This is the “The Sorcerer”: from the original letter/article by the Abbe Breuil, the grand old man of Cro-Magnon art studies.

As fate has it, I am helping an old friend revive an old old website, Enlightenment.com

You know how it happens, one event leads to another, there is a small change in one’s typical patterns leads to a sudden flurry of interaction, and from that, because now “the time is ripe”, an old homeostasis is tipped into a new flow, and some new thing fires up like a launched missle.

(In this case, something happened that lead me to start watching my facebook news feed, something I usually avoid, because I don’t want that particular collective to overly influence the other things I write in various facebook groups – block out the feedback, and I write and conduct experiments without that thought “what if so-and-so sees this…” arising to contaminate my mental workspace. Whatever, right – I scanned my news feed one day, and a post about a new text for Transpersonal Psychology led me to start to write.)

One of my alternate self structures is a web developer and internet marketing consultant. I had been working all day on this and that, wordpress and databases and content writing and blah blah. That personality was charged up, grabbed my hands, and typed something elaborate that condensed down to “dammit let me fix that fucking website, it’s been driving me crazy for years”.

The magic words… And soon the keys were in my webdev geek memory, and I could play.,

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Do you want to go to Jupiter?

Tales inspired by ayawaska. (yes I know everybody spells it ayahuasca.) Darwin’s Pharmacy backstory…


Another leak, by popular demand, from By The Grace of Gaia: A Journey Through Psychedelics and Beyond

Do You Want to Go to Jupiter?
Cascading alien cities of obviously sacred geometry shimmered forth in a palette dominated by magenta. Spiral cathedrals that worshipped themselves as evolutionary technologies asked me to visit them as if featured in brochures of galactic tourism. “Wander the Amazing Sentient Crystal City Grown From Self Aware Amethyst! Participate in Ancient Reptile Architectural Re-Enactments, Climb the Self Healing Ruins of the Cosmically Famous Reverberating Quartz Nautilus That Speaks Itself Echoing Into the Future!” The buzzing blooming confusion of the Amazonian night chimed in from without, confirming the alien solicitation. “Do you want to go to Jupiter?!”

But as the unspeakably gorgeous kaleidoscope of extraterrestrial architecture continued to turn, a comically enormous wave of certainty welled up and burst forth from within me. Finally I responded to the…

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Work close to the bull

work close to the bull

“Stephen Dedalus was not Joyce, and Herzog was not Bellow, and Zuckerman was not Roth, and Marcel was not Proust; writers had always worked close to the bull, like matadors, had played complex games with autobiography, and yet their creations were more interesting than themselves.”

Salmon Rushdie Advice For Writers – applies to any edge explorer as well.