AOC and Aaron, 13-10-89

 Prelude (Pray Amble)           

                      O, I'm sorry, hello. I had a, um, over one, I had more than one cup of coffee. I forgot I had some in the refrigerator from yesterday. I think it had chocolate syrup in it and half and half. That might've been my 2nd cup of yesterday. I had some leftover; I had that; I made a fresh cup today. And um, I think I slept pretty well, but I might still be a little deprived, of sleep - excuse me. My GI tract, esophagus... So uh, yeah, now I just made another cup of coffee, a 2nd cup. I put all this Starbux cocoa mix in it. Um, yea. O, we're an hour into Sunday Morning, CBS show. They're talking about Trump and classified declassified and espionage and FBI. And just a lot of stupid things. - I thought Mom was talking to Kit for a minute, and I was saying how stupid Kit is, and I said I hate you to Kit in my mind, or I was kind of whispering it out loud. I went out to the hot tub and put some water on my head, on my hair. I guess the caffeine is just really like uh chemistry, in like My Mind... It's like a hamster on wheel. [l' Ennui] Or a guinea pig. O, guinea pigs are big. Ashley and I saw a herd of guinea pigs running and squeaking and chirping, at the like Cedar Creek Zoo, or I wonder what that zoo is called. I wanna go back there if it still exists. I member we saw a zebra from a distance, maybe 50 yards or so, maybe we got closer. I wish I could remember; I wish I could remember Ashley's face a little better. I wonder if we'll ever talk again. Maybe we'll be at our 20 years high school reunion, when we're 38 years old. That would be lovely. Uh, it's strange how Hank is using his doggy door so much. Um, that was his tail. Anyway it's been 3 minutes, but I wanted to write some stuff about Stranger Things' characters and Alexandra Ocasio-Cortez, and then I decided I - and then I imagined writing, typing out my desires and thoughts and things, but, O, I just lit some incense; I should turn the fan on. But, um, the way I wanted to write it, it was intriguing to me, so I thought, "

Number Two (#1!)

i don't wanna write something like that, just based on my lust of these people, if you know what I mean... like erotica. Um but, I do wanna write in this way that I imagined which is something like I'm kind of

making a commentary of - of what I'm writing and how I'm writing within whatever creative fiction, creative writing that I'm, within the writing... within the Yeah.

Like a combination. Well, it's kinda just obvious... I just would state the obvious:

I think it would begin (the beginning of whatever I'm writing would begin:)

The Beginning

                            I am writing a fiction about my friend Aaron and the Congresswoman who was born on the same day, AOC. So you can see the words I'm using [::amusing] are... I'm just trying to, well, whatever I say about it now is kind of like what I would want to write about, but I don't - I don't wanna do, I wanna do less than half of it as like, as first person, present, a self-reference about the actual writing of it, which is a part of what actually: my idea for actually writing something creative.

                           So it's like a documentary that includes the documentarian, I think, something like that. I might try to type this out then. I think I like how, how this is going, but I can take out all the pauses and repetition, maybe. And just re- I can rewrite this, um, monologue thing... But what would the story of myfriend and AOC be?

                            Yeah, that's a good sentence for the piece I'm writing, [laughing] (witches) and so is this current one about the previous one being a good sentence. [or Séance] So, Aaron and AOC are walking down a sunny brown street inbetween a park and a 6-story apartment building, in the Bronx or Queenz or some where, and they are well-dressed and likable and good-looking and looking at each other. She's so liberal and progressive, She wants to turn this World into a Green good place, [paradise] for Everyone.

                            They didn't really think of me, but they're a little bit aware that I am writing this scene [sense] into existence, even though I'm really just talking about it right now. I guess this is what writing is like, um. And they smile and she smiles and he smiles even more. The sun is on their faces, but when they turn toward the Other face, half of the Face is in shadow of the Sun. O, the shadow of the Sun: that doesn't make sense. The shadow is the thing of the thing that casts the shadow. The Sun casts the Light, for 2 generic and 2 white mana.... Okay! I'm just gonna type now; it's almost ten minutes. I gotta listen to this though; this is so exciting, exclamation, exclamation, exclamation...

[ Myfriend Aaron is The Best. He does philosophy and Christianity. I don't know how to convince you, just think about the best ways to live this life, and what are time and space and our Minds? Thanks, Love, Greg. ]

[ https://youtu.be/PH2hueEBITo ]

http://oakygo.blogspot.com/2022/08/aoc-and-aaron-13-10-89.html

Timothy Liu Nothing but the Truth So Help Me God Nine lamps in the shape of teeming censers hung from a courthouse ceiling, forty wooden chairs facing a video screen. This is America. Jury duty and the token fanfare of breaking from our daily routines, men and women with baskets of tropical fruit on top of their heads. Justice for all and some time off. Dionne Warwick in a floor-length gown not singing. Trying to hook her fans instead on the Psychic Friends Network: Touch me not for I have not yet dialed that 1- 900 number. America, talk to me. The clock stops ticking, but someone still keeps holding a microphone to our lips.   From issue no. 132 (Fall 1994)

 Les Murray

Echidna

Crumpled in a coign I was galactic with my hatchling
till he prickled.
He entered the earth pouch then
and learned ant-ribbon,
the gloss we put like lightning on the brimming ones.
Life is fat is sleep. I feast life on and sleep it,
deep loveself in calm.
I awaken to spikes of food-sheathing, of mulling fertile egg,
of sun, of formic gravels,
of worms, dab hunting, of fanning under quill-ruff when
budged:
all are rinds, to sleep.
Tongue-scabbard, corner-footed, I am trundling doze
and wherever I put it
is exactly right. Sleep goes there.
 

From issue no. 117 (Winter 1990)

 The complexities of Mind, including art, music, sound, movement, language, the body...

I added that ellipsis because it seems weird that the body is part of the mind. The mind is like the soul. The soul could just be our Godliness, which doesn't need to always think, like the mind does, because They (souls, God) understand everything. 

I guess if we are not thinking we don't exist. We are minds. We experience this cosmos, our bodies, this fabric of reality, dimensions, forms, images, senses etc.

Walking in fronta the IRS at night, I sang a song to me, called Cuyahoga. I like it a lot. I made it up. It reminded me of Zappa. I mostly repeated the word, then sang, 'I wish I were a Person, Who Has Been, to Cuyahoga'

Why do/can we do these things?

We are these people.

Music is about music. That'd be a good album title.

The Sake of the Song by Townes Van Zandt I think.

. . . . Maybe I should just help people out of slavery and poverty right now

What why am I

In Blazing Aarrow Gift of Gab raps,

Think about your purpose 

That's impossible. 

Wonder what meaning means....

Three Backward Boobs

 family, and Christ is going on the edge of organ [fail] in seconds of rearranging and she is tongue Jesus hard pink and the other Ladies cut her off on her knees and then I poured Fresca or a Dog to the edge to get a little bit more time for a few seconds and then I poured my heart into a neighbor's and made a break a little more and I am attracted by a spell that I am trying the best for you may be a little bit better and better than you have exactly 💯 ❤️ 💙 💗 💕 ♥️ 💯 ❤️ 💙 💗 💕 ♥️ 

A Text to Aaron

 Caballero Night Area

I like that euthanasia business story. Real dystopia. A lot of the commenters seem confused. In high school I was meant/chose to write an essay on euthanasia. I wrote a surreal stream of consciousness, almost 2 pages, that I still have

I think of it often, I think of Neige of Alcest. Aaron shared me them 2 months ago.

The end of my essay is

 " 

look at the snow falling. This has everything to do with anything. 

Snow was the only thing that ever existed in the universe. Now it's gone, now, now it's dark.

"

Anyway it is . . . Intense. 

Here's some predictive, 

Fallingdevil Miyako ayaya and the big throbbing thrust alternately and the big men are going out for dinner and I still feel like I'm sayin on a bench like that for me I think I should do it myself and then you can also known that you will not be the weirdest for this morning I thought I was horny to you and you draw me to my heart shape as well soon and you draw me to be good 👍 

  Small mountains in tall forests 

Oh no don't tell your brother. 

the natural affliction 

Those don't turn over. 

Google You make me feel like dancing You Make Me Feel Like Dancing Song by Leo Sayer

YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE DANCIN

WANNA DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY 

Song

My God, 

I am so proud of my life

My thoughts 

Memories 

and imagination, 

I feel ridiculous 

I don't know Why

What 

To Do.

The En.

I am Missing 

the end....

Do you want to ride a book to the store, at night, 

and die like a lonely O!-at

meal creampie in a large dumpster, at night?

Digiorno's are good if you're 42, divorced with no kids. 

God's Hell

 Listening to Bear Hides and Buffalo doing data entry at the IRS in Austin, Texas,

God will not help us;

We are alone in Hell.

We are saved, god is in us:

Listen to Jubilee Street Live at Alexandra Palace 2020

 

Anyone's Fault

 is the title, maybe a book or story or personal essay essé

 You could be the Anyone in the story.

I said don't think and you did, for me.

A cat named Zoomer written by Tim

A cat named Zoom written by Tim Wynne

Dreams and things you don't need to read to think

 S R, we must alight in rithm bellends while the astronomical originorder d.... beams and shafts and directionless and sunlike qualities of forever when days are never numbered.

 

GOLD HOUSE BUILDERS

DELAWARE GHOST TOURS

MOTHER   BUSINESSMAN 

ineligible illegible 

a bona fide resident has a principal place of abode

De Puerto Rico 🇵🇷 🇵🇷 🇵🇷 🇵🇷 🇵🇷 🇵🇷 

Lossnetting and Carryforward

Something I'm Not

 https://youtu.be/f7wu6gX2-dQ

Sorry aboot the whining noice thru out... Clever Name 3:15 Sunshine Grows 7:53 Number Eleven 12;50 22 14;10 Afrikazoo 17:22 Do You Wanna...? 20;15 Got'ta Go 21;04 Picky, the Locksmith 23;06 Calm Me Down 23;52 Spiffy Spin08a Bifida 25;31 We Can't All Live in a Zoo 29;50 Appreciate My Apples 31;32 Scary Parts of the World 36;57 CCTV Weather 38;07 Bad Words Shin 38;15 Let's Read Aloud 43;19 Dig a Donut 45;46 Easier Decide 47;42 Demon in the Restaurant 49;45 Colonial Soup Ladle 51;03 Subtle Knife 53;31 Francesca 57;22 Why Don't You Love Me? 57;49 Chicken-Eyed Man 58;54 Didactic Elephant 59;58 Music Tonsil 1;00;50 Something Else 1;04;36 Camp Pies (Can't Lock Your Doors) 1;06;29 Iglootopia 1;07;21 Preacher in the Rain 1;09;36 Bluejay's Gun 1;10;42 Wonderful Ones 1;14;09 Freaking Forever 1;14;41 What's on My Mind 1;33;24 Saw 1;34;01 Thuds 1;35;15 37 1;58;45 38

 

World Part i

 Is   This   Today?

is today today?

It Is Like Today - World Party

iii

A Real Life meat space internet post

 

Gregory Douglas Wredberg

16 m  · 

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Near the beginning of *The Fourth Stage of Meaning* :

[[ CWL = Collected Works of Lonergan [ Bernard ] ]

... i don’t recall reading Vignette 10 nor any of the Interior Lighthouse essays after reading Bill’s

draft, though I may have. What I recall was revisiting Prehumous 4-8, emailing Mike Shute to ask

him what he was working on, and – thanks to Prehumous 8 – sharing some of CWL 8 The

Incarnate Word (2016) with Bill as possibly relevant to his work-in-progress. I was delighted to

talk to these two about what they were working on because they seemed to be focusing on

what got me seriously interested in Phil in the first place: the fifth chapter of Wealth of Self

(1975), “The Inside-Out of Radical Existentialism.” It was around my twenty-first birthday. I was

a senior philosophy major in Bill’s Theory of Knowing course in the fall of 2010.

By the time we got to that chapter, I had already come to think of “radical existentialism” as

Phil’s name for a habitual focus on the roots of one’s intentionality that would help one in the

revision, maintenance, and formation of one’s habits. The idea came to me in the context of his

clues about the axial period, which ends with an endnote referring the reader to Quaestio 21 of

De Deo Trino II (1964):

Here one may move to the positive aspects of the fruit of methodology: for

self-attentive methodology offers man the possibility of getting to grips with his meaning

at its focus. Existentialism and historical consciousness have succeeded in underlining

man’s creativity of his own essence. That emergent essence is centrally on the level of

mind, and the more man appreciates the nature of the emergence of meaning, the more

adequately will he contribute creatively to that emergence. That appreciation will enable

him to move from a state of spontaneous use of his intelligence in his doing to a level of

intelligent guidance of that use.2

2

Ibid., p. 8.

1

Ibid., p. 8.

1

Before figuring that much out, I recall vividly, with the music of Rage Against the Machine in the

background, reading the words “my interest is in the abolition of slavery of minds at its roots.”

3

It was important to me that Phil talked about me getting a grip on myself in the context of

history getting a grip on themselves. But it wasn’t until reading “The Inside-Out of Radical

Existentialism” that I realized what I was doing with Phil, in spite of his claim in the

introduction’s endnotes that he would be restricting our “considerations to historical reality in

its nonreligious dimensions,”

4 was deeply religious.

- by Robert-Gabriel Aaron Mundine

and Philip McShane

[:

1Gregory Douglas Wredberg

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comment : more context, 

In the summer of 2005, I went on a trip with my church youth group to host a “vacation Bible school” in a rural community near Santa Fe, New Mexico. My MP3 player was loaded with Demon Days (2005), Steal This Album (2002), Lateralus (2001), Ænima (1996) to name some of the memorable albums. Lyrics like “oh green world/ don’t desert me now / made of you and you of me / but where are we?” and “your sacred silence, losing all violence/ stars in their place, mirror your face / I need to find you, I need to seek my innervision” and “I embrace my desire to / swing on the spiral / of our divinity and / still be a human” and “I've been crawling on my belly / clearing out what could've been / I've been wallowing in my own confused / and insecure delusions / for a piece to cross me over / or a word to guide me in / I want to feel the changes coming down / I want to know what I've been hiding / in my shadow” were very powerful, moving images for me in my search for the meaning of life. Incidentally, I met an older teenager our first day in the village we were visiting who was interested in Shakespeare, the Mars Volta, and shamans. Romero and I got along very well, and I spent as much time as I could with him during our stay, even though my girlfriend was on the trip too. He guided me in exercises in paying attention to the sights and sounds and smells of natural things, in using my imagination, with the assistance of rhythmic drumming, to journey into the underworld, and in keeping track of these exercises in a journal. He talked to me about how he was raised Catholic, but found this way of exploring inner space, seeking the invisible essences of things, and meeting the Spirit within more helpful, and it was okay because this Spirit is the core of all the great religions. All of these intimations of meaning were held together for me by Alex Grey’s Dissectional album art for Lateralus, which had been a seriously puzzling image for me. When it was time for me to go back to Texas, he gave me his copy of the book he had learned all this from. I cannot recommend the book now, but it allowed me to continue what I had started in New Mexico. Without my friend’s enthusiasm, I couldn’t take the “vision quests” seriously very much longer, although I liked the drumming, but I continued to tune my senses, focus on 4 Ibid., p. xvi, en. 5. 3 Ibid., p. xiv. 2 the aliveness of things, and try to make contact with the Spirit within, and I made a point of doing my spiritual exercises outside in the field behind my house. The following year, I worked my way through Betty Edwards’ Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain (1979). Besides becoming better at drawing, finding greater delight in visual art, growing in my appreciation of modern art, and learning to notice more visual details in my environment, I learned to notice what I see rather than what I thought I saw. Initially this sensitized me to the messiness of my visual spread, which presented far more strange lines and irregular shapes than straight lines and geometrical shapes, especially when I went from inside my house to outside in the field. The year after that, my interest in Radiohead led me to read The Crying of Lot 49 (1965). The meaning of the novella promised to me “a real alternative to the absence of surprise to life that harrows the head of everybody you know.” The silence of the Holy Spirit before Pentecost is a theme of the book, and thanks to passages like the following, I began to wonder about not just my intent to contact the Spirit within, but the Spirit’s intent to contact me: