Tuesday, January 22, 2013

asima II

Note to readers: This post and the last are like sketches of a novel that came to me, contemplating the life and death of Aaron Swartz. Taking place at some distant point in the future, Information is for the most part free, and the online world is something like stepping into a dream, of seeming infinite variety and intensity, as real as this waking life but in a very different way, where even the spirit of the planets maintain a presence. Anyway, I've got a stack of blog posts backed up, all raging at the world about this or that, but it's January -12F, and I'm content to take imaginary flight. It you have any feedback, I'd love to hear it; if you don't care that's fine too. I was contemplating two more sketches, to fill out the vision more clearly, but if no one cares, I'll get back to railing against TPTB soon enough I'm sure, LOL. Grandfather is returning here, from some time spent online. Blessings...


"Grandfather!"

"Hey, kid."

"Where'd you go, grandfather!"

"How are you doing, indeed. I'm fine, feeling great. Did you make me dinner? Hello grandmother."

"Hello grandfather."

"We have a big dinner for you, Grandfather! Where did you go!"

"It looks wonderful, the food. I think I'll take a seat right here.

Yum. Where did I go, the child want's to know. I found some young men engaged in no-good, I did. In a little hokum hole not far from here. Surrounded that whole hole in such a trembling roar as not a one of them had ever heard before. Manifested to them like none-such god as any one of them had ever contemplated, but managing to become a man again before they soiled them selves..."

"Grandfather!"

"Grandfather indeed" (she says)

"What did you do today, kid?"

"I helped grandmother in the garden!"

"He played with worms."

"Right, he did, the little helper."

"Worms! What if those young men you found had been engaged in war, grandfather?"

"Well that is not my province so much, to take on so many at once. That is when I call the honor/bound, who generally do not require my help. Fearsome ones, those."

"Fearsome how, grandfather?"

"They have a relationship with asima - Gaia - no human can begin to offer, for whom they will do whatever is required to keep the world safe, that they will continue to know Her as they do; which is a little like a bondage too. Wandering ones, most of them, never comfortable anywhere for long; well taken care of, wherever they tread, wanting for little, for what they are bound to do to protect the people. The Gaian mind embuing them with a mystery and power physical, not even I can comprehend; nor necessarily want to, the violence of it.

If they require me at all it is typically, for my theatrics."

"Do tell the grandchild, grandfather"

"Yes grandfather, tell"

"Stalk Jupiter some time in that world, kid. What swirling fog, such fearsome subterfuge, power but a glimpse of which could turn the brain to goo; but what mysteries due lent, having faced it, no human alone could be capable of rendering.

Roooooaaaaaar!"

"Grandfather! Tell the child of those works.

"Yes grandfather, what works!"

"Has your grandmother been telling you of Trinity's, thrice consciousness, again? She likes to say that, that way, because she is a woman. We men are more like blockheads, thinking in fours - at least this one - with waking imagination of such importance, to getting much of anything done, and remembering. In that other world, of asima, whatever any man or woman can imagine can be built before them, in an instant, by them, with a feeling for every single aspect. Such hokum holes as any adept might construct, are magnificent by orders beyond anything possible here in waking space.

Six dimensions, by the way, if you count waking space as three, in the traditional sense. Or seven, if you count Time, though hardly any one does anymore but the ones watching the stars, remembering the cycles.

Whatever, such magnificent creations in asima, less enthusiasms here among the living for grand visions of epic proportions, ego driven. More peaceful now, by orders of magnitude, beyond the empire building Aeons. But trouble's out there, ever and always, and one must be vigilant, beyond the safer bounds of home, of course. Protected well, here, you are child."

(said the kid)"But what did you say, grandfather, about fearsomness among the honor/bound ones, to protect us all from the up-to-no-good ones, at war? What do they do to make them stop?"

"Lot's of things go on in this world kid, lot's of people think is no-good. The honor/bound leave a wide latitude; whatever goes, for the most part. But such malevolence bent on death and destruction, to spread, is another thing, not left to fester.

All you need to know about that now is, worms got to eat too."   

"May I go there now, to our Hokum hole, grandfather?"

"Hokum is not how I would describe that construction kid. An enchanted garden, just beyond and yet corresponding to your wildest imagination, perhaps."

"May I go then, grandmother?" 

"What about the sunset here?"

"I can feel it there. Will you come with me, grandmother?"

"I will follow soon. Stay close. The twilight you will remember is like a time between worlds, here and there. (the kid goes).
 
"Grandfather, you don't smell like what you found there in that hokum hole was no-good."

"What are sayin', grandmother?"

"You stink."

"You are extraordinarily beautiful and charming, as always. Yes, your intuition is right as it tends to be, that was not no-good I found there, but something more like unspeakable."

"What unspeakable thing can there be in this Aeon, where all information is free, the Way."

"Of the signature that would blot out the light. Of a violence and will to mayhem as the honor/bound are sure to monitor."

"But that roaring was not a lie, was it man?"

"It was as I said, woman, and louder. Did not have a chance to manifest though, as a man, to calm and perhaps befriend them; they disappeared so fast, the weakling cowards."

"Eat hearty then. There is drink; take out two glasses. And don't wash yet. I'm going to go see about the grandchild.

After he's to bed, I'll meet you.

We can shower after."


   

 


4 comments:

John D. Wheeler said...

I'm definitely enjoying the tales of asima.

William Hunter Duncan said...

Thanks John!

Jeff Z said...

This is intriguing! You're inspiring me. I've had some fiction I've been thinking through since the Archdruid had his fiction contest. Don't know that it's even close to ready, but I may end up blogging it at some point.

So yes, I'm looking forward to reading more about asima.

William Hunter Duncan said...

JeffZ,

Good. :)