reunions

Dear semi-independent consciousnesses (hereafter "Nessies") of Earth. Why are we not better acquainted? Why have I only a single grainy photo of your Pleiseosaurian beauty to remember you by? You are so mysterious, even to yourselves, it seems, living submerged in the deepest oceans of this world all your lives. But then, when you do make an appearance, it is all the more wonderful. Thank you for the congratulatory notes you have recently sent the way of the martian hop. The new baby Sapiens is thriving. She eats, she poops, she sleeps, and in her spare time reigns as Miss Universe. That is quite the schedule for one so young!

It is good to be alive. I highly recommend it. This is not meant as a slight against rocks. I never once said they were not alive in some way. Time is different for particles of stuff that have no central nervous system. But without rocks, what would the sustaining waters of the Nessies flow over? What would crash into the planet from the depths of space, heralding change? 

Thank you for the visit. It was so good to be reunited, however briefly. Inspiration comes in many forms and you are an inspiration to me. Los lobos, "yah tebe lyooblyoo". Guten tag. Ich liebe dich.

http://www.gennet.org/facts/nessie.html

Zmz

rebirth

Well, well, well. Where to begin? There is a six-day-old human creature in our care. Once an arch-peace-pope of the ice-flower people on a small comet we will one day come to know as Cubit, she has been born again in spirit in this globe like a bodhisattva of old. All it took was life-times of meditation and some readily accessible Earthling DNA. We are so happy to have such a being in our midst. Now our hearts and our house are full.

Or perhaps mammalian reproduction here on Earth is miraculous enough all on its own.

It was nice to receive a few new comments from some long-lost subscribers. A link, and then it's off to bed.
This time it's about Christian Marclay: collage, both sonic and physical, maker extraordinaire.
http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2012/03/12/120312fa_fact_zalewski?currentPage=1

Good night.
Zmz Gbzn

whoops!

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, dogs, cats, roaches and other assorted creatures, we salute you.
There hasn't been very much going on at the martian hop recently. Sorry. Working to pay the bills. Living to work, and not quite working to live. Free time is rare and seems to be split between family, episodes of Futurama, Mario-cart and drawing. Live free or die.
Zmz

Here's Michael Stipe and R.E.M.:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=icGOLDJv08c

Barsoooooooooooooooom!

Hello world. The movie adaptation of Edgar Rice Burroughs' John Carter character has come to the big screen at last. Schlocky pulp! We just watched the trailer for the film. Unfortunately there appear to be a lot of big boring battle scenes. Blame the influence of Peter Jackson's Lord of the [Potatoes]. But the Barsoomian creatures look fantastic! Rather, they look like a fantasy made palpable. Megan Fox, she ought to be in it. The bodacious princesses need to be feisty and unpredictable and, well, slutty. This is a must see, if only to pigeon-hole for not being the-good-kind-of-bad enough. Can't wait!
Links? In a web? That not make sense.

http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/john_carter/

Oh, to cap it all off, the lead role is played by a man named Kitsch.
Zmz

I'll ride that last train to heaven on rails of solid gold.

The term "spacey" is a funny one. It calls to mind the hypnotic, glazed stare of eyes that are attached to a brain in stasis. But having the ability to quiet the brain can be a very good thing. It's nice to shut off everything but life-support now and then and just drift through space. It takes some practice to get used to calming the brain. That organ is always firing off messages, which is habit forming. Taking the time to observe those messages and decide if they are useful or necessary can help with quieting: achieving spacey-ness.

What direction are we headed with this? Floating through space is sort of a directionless thing. It feels that way, anyhow. The distances are so vast. But does "spacey" require you to be unmoored? A celestial hobo? Even comets have paths determined by grave forces. No one thing is entirely unaffected by any other thing in the matrices of the uni- or multi-verse. Whatever THIS is. Matter is a matter of relationships, seen and unseen.

Celestial hoboes. I hope that the first non-Earthling visitors are these guys and gals. It would beat the pantaloons off any invading forces of imperialist swash-bucklers. The celestial hoboes are in the holy texts of many Earth religions. They are always shunned, misunderstood. The beings who visit Lot in the Old Testicle have a terrifying mystery about them. Certainly they stood seven feet tall hunched over, had beautiful, smooth slightly metallic-green skin and spacey ultra-violet eyes. And they must have sung in strange and beautiful harmonies of the wonder of a mind and spirit open to emptiness. Read "God's messengers" as "messengers from the heavens". They bring you peace, and love. Let them rest a bit in your hay-loft. Don't tell the authorities: the authorities do not enjoy chaos as a philosophy, only as a means to further their power. Celestial hoboes are only concerned with... the truth.

"joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea..."

Deadlimits, no, time-lines, no, wait, time limits. Yes. Life is one great big arbitrary time limit composed of a near infinite number of smaller arbitrary time limits for a huge variety of things we might do or have done.
There is a very limited period of time in which to write this post, but the end could come at any moment. So much depends on a great many factors that are entirely beyond control. We wait.

Wait? No, we write. We're up for the challenge. Why not? It's good practice for living. There may be no tomorrow; or there may be a tomorrow but "there will never be another tonight". Thank you to Canadian "Rock icon" Bryan Adams for the quote. Although the perpetually be-pimpled and pubescent songster is not the first place one would ordinarily turn for wisdom, sometimes how you look at a thing makes worlds of difference. Today we focused on the idea that today is the only one of its kind, never to be repeated, completely original. There may be days that are similar, but... well, you know. Time flows in the one direction for us, as far as we know. So, good or bad, there is hope in this thought. If today is absolutely miserable, it is only one day. If it is fantabulous, it becomes even more incredible when the realization of its unique wonderfantabulousness gets the consideration it deserves. "...Joy to you and me". Goodbye.

music of the spheres

Just a quick note before entering the chamber for rejuvenation. The tube was on and showing a programme about planets and the earthling occupation of searching for hospitable climes on other worlds. The soundtrack was stirring, strange, orchestral, ambient, and a whole lot of other great things. Where do we find music like this? The answer came from the tube as well. A documentary about Scott Walker and his music. Wild stuff. And the thing was produced by a guy named David Bowie. Neat-o.
Zmz