Ghosts in the sub-fusion anomaly

“How am I?
I am most often than not what I seem, but I am not always how I seem and that is how I am unless I am something else; to some I have been all things and to others I have been less than nothing.
In between these two is a compromise that’s fine and ok and of the passing moment that is either here or there but better here and now.

But all in all I’m so glad you didn’t ask me why I am,” I said breathless all of a sudden for no reason.
“Oh what are we talking about now?” asked my wife yawning.
“When the strange urge comes do we not shiver, and don’t we fall down the cliff of despair when we fall down it, and is there any mountain we cannot climb?
Wrap up the answer in a painting and leave it in the hot sun and come back later so see how it is.
And ah yes, Gurgling Pete, I remember him well, the one who fell out of his tree into the ocean and was never seen again; and Mandy Marbles, who was a witch with blue hair and married God and moved to a desert island; and they live there still, swept away in the immediacy of their love and yearning,” I said for want of something better to say.
“Crunchy Chinese horse chestnuts,” said my wife in reply.
“In the indeterminacy of language the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis proposes that languages are tied to their communities; what then the lone gypsy oh?
And Wilhelm Reich on the function of the orgasm got put into prison forever for saying stuff...” I said, saying far too much.

“As opposed to what?” asked my wife picking bean sprouts out of her teeth.
“All mental giants have to be careful when they stand up in case they bang their heads on the low ceiling of all the old paradigms that are held in place by the ones who won’t see beyond them,” I said.
“So can you drown without an anchor or skip without a hop,” asked my wife looking at me closely now.
“When the arrow of love passes through your shield into your heart you’ll know, but until then the sands of time will take you away further than you can return, until you return,” I said.
Momentous then the decision to wake up and turn off the radio of all this,” said my wife hopefully.
“Who will be my friend in the friendless place, and who will help me with my weight when it feels too heavy, and who will pick me up when I fall and whisper secret nothings through the wall?” I said wistfully.
“Well the indeterminacy of language of course,” said my wife, yawning.
“When you take a little faith and stick it in the jackpot machine you get thin soup forever; and now it is that senseless sneezing time again,” I said and began to sneeze.
“Keep it simple,” said my wife and went to sleep.

Grandmother inertia was in her rocking chair soundly snoring when the ghost of an old idea slipped in through the back door and silently passed her hoping she wouldn’t wake. The cat on her lap, awake now, stared at the ghost as it silently crept by, and the soundless scream that came through the wall disturbed no one and so dropped into one of the buckets of darkness stacked high to the ceiling and was heard no more.
The clock in the passageway of the stairs thronged its hourly chant and sent the ghost up to where the dreaming was where the chamber of its passing accepted it to slip away and the long day was done.
But my day was just beginning for the hot paper of a brilliant hypothesis won’t move a mountain until it is put into practice.

Now that I’ve addressed the uncertainty principal in Quantum metaphysics we shall go on to:
The quest for reality:
An old door, pretending to be one fifth of an illusion wanted to put in a good word and so began banging its drum...But Mr Levinson the oriental had something to say quick-like as he jumped up and down on the hot ground, his burnt feet smoking...”Oyo-ah, oow-ah,” he went and then danced off to find water and shade.
I was left nonplussed and without an explanation.
The old door began making inroads and would not take no for an answer even though it was such a simple word and so began a monologue of its diatribe to say what it would talk-speak to converse all it could upon my clean white page that truth be told had ideas of grandeur and pots of gold.
The watershed of all this was an old question that later would marry up to the old door, if I let it go on; but the old door had already downed three cups of coffee and so was being carried away with it all to the mark of no return which was all well and good with me, because, frankly, what can an old door possibly say other than to squeak or bang in the frame?
“And therefore to think, dear fellow, that that is all I am because you think it so,” said the door grinning hugely from ear to ear.

‘Such strange goings on,’ I thought, taken aback once again and so soon after the last time.
“Come, open me and see what is revealed,” said the door not at all shyly and still grinning hugely.
Thoughts came to say that if I was caught talking to doors I may be thought of as eccentric, and so I refrained from answering.
“To much peer pressure I see. Ok then, by the numbers, hup...”
“Whatever you say it is or isn’t has nothing to do with what it is, and in fact the intellect should be put aside in favour of the heart,” said the door and began to dance.
‘There have been many humungous ideas that have flashed away down the pan before I could wrestle them onto the page,’ I thought I thought in time.
Are we to dedicate our meagre rations then to the mouth that calls the loudest, and for this we live our life?
“Oh by gum it’s me tooth.”
“Ah me hearties, it’s his tooth, his tooth.”
“And what does ee do with his tooth?”
“I eats me dinner with it I do, I do.”
“Pray tell, how so, we want to know.”
“I digs it in n gums it down and charges a sixpence to half a crown.”
“So it’s his tooth, his tooth that makes him rich.”
“Aye it’s me tooth, me tooth, and tis grand it is.”
Chorus:
It’s his tooth, his tooth it is, it is, it’s his tooth.
It’s me tooth, me tooth it is.
Oh it’s his tooth it is, it is and that’s what makes him rich...
“Yoo hoo.”
“Let’s gummy im up like between us, umm?”
“Ee’s mine, I got de tooth.”
“Not fair, how come you got a tooth?”
“Lucky I guess; nik, nik, nik, nik.”
In the dreams where I hide I peek out from the illusion; the bottomless pit glares back at me full of ghosts swirling in a mist. All is unreal, so I go back to sleep.
Hauling up the moon...

Moonstop and Beamstrap were late again pulling the moon up into the sky, a pair of numbskulls to be sure.
But the puzzle daily becomes more absorbent.
There was once a time when coal holes were built into the pavement to pour the coal down into the coal cellar. At the time this seemed a very civilized way of getting the black stuff into the house; and then one day all the coalmines shut down and everyone changed to using clean gas, so they said; but some still use the coal holes to get coal in.
Similarly, when rubbish was thrown in a black-hole it disappeared never to be seen again, it was thought. But that is not the case, your karma will always come back to bite you in some way for all is connected and nothing disappears forever.
A loophole on the other hand is a different kettle of fish. Going down a loophole will take you to an Alice in Wonderland kind of experience, but don’t worry, it’s not real, but there again, nothing is real so there’s never ever anything to be worried about, although sometimes you may have to endure, but that’s another story for the long dark night of the soul to be told around the camp fire of the vanities where the ego burns to a cinder.
So anyway, one fifth of an illusion is not really very much at all and in fact may be less than nothing which in the time of the Greeks was really not a lot at all. But these days with the current thought that nothing may be filled with rather a lot then nothing may be more than it seems; but an illusion is always an illusion.
So it is possible that having nothing may mean you’ve got a lot; so if you’ve got a lot of nothing then you may have an awful lot.

Something, because it is in space and time, and space and time being an illusion means you have an amount of illusion which means it is not there; so following along this line of logic it is better to have nothing which is a lot more than something which is illusion.
Perpendicular to this tail-end subtraction, the derivative of this could be the beginning of an exciting new thought-stream of theory that can be likened to looking in a mirror and seeing something that’s not there.
Living in this mirror would be colourful in the extreme where no two moments would be the same or normal.
Normal? How could anything ever be normal when not a moment is the same as any other? Normal is an illusion and though similarities abound, each moment comes as unique. So, if everything is a unique event then how amazing is this one moment in existence...
Formidable forebodings to the contrary this is not so hard to achieve and in fact takes no effort at all.
It is the unlearning that is the effort and so, depending on where you are in the evolutionary queue will depend on how much effort you have to put in for it to be effortless.
Treading on water for instance can seem effortless from a layman’s point of view but the physics behind this seemingly impossible and weightless feat is far beyond most mortals at this time and yet in the animal kingdom it happens all the time and is possible from a stand-point within their nature.
Ice cubes don’t fly to the moon because it’s outside of their nature and neither do monkeys and yet both have been into outer space, that is, the space outside of the atmosphere. So when you calculate all this with relativity theory it makes sense to stay in bed of a morning, but there’s no way in hell you can stay in bed forever when the coffee starts to boil and the fumes come around to get you going.
And this is called breaking the spell of inertia or the inertia theory of relativity and should not be confused with dunking donuts which is another theory altogether.
Advanced quantum theory is not for everyone but that doesn’t mean you can’t question everything, and maybe this is why salt was invented so a little bit could be thrown over the shoulder now and again.
To grow a theory from nothing does take some energy and lazing around in the sun of the tropics with nothing better to do helps a lot and in this respect having a lot of nothing to do grows theories in plenty so never let it be said nothing comes from nothing.

Random flying particles that sting and white elephants on the other hand take a bit of getting used to and this is why Confucius may have said: ‘the ear is a marvellous barometer of impending probable events.’
Applying ice cubes to this probability effect is probably not why ice cubes would be taken into outer space, but then neither are monkeys there for that reason either; and the either, either or, theory can’t be applied here to this and so not all is as it seems in this respect.
Which brings me to part five that will be told tomorrow; but it is said that there is no tomorrow or yesterday, only now...
Images from Pixabay