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Consciousness |
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Gymnasium |
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c-gym.com |
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¶ If you were dead, a kind word or a kind thought might mean much more to you than most people realize as your entire life flashes before your eyes, as you lay there wishing for the ability to wake up to a higher level of consciousness. This is c-gym.com, a workout gymnasium for your mind, to allow you to reach some sort of blissful awareness of you and your tormentors within the context of becoming totally honest. It seems like a game, this attachment of new associations to simple words, yet it's much deeper, as you're certain to find out. So little time. Your eyes will open, and you might find the will to wink at a passer-by, maybe an old friend. Their eyes will glow in recognition, or maybe even surprise. And then you'll realize it's your own eyes that are shining bright. |
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White Paper |
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When the still spinning robot & his girlfriend were unceremoniously ejected from the time turbinal, they encountered a fierce security guard at the Angel Investor's mansion. |
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A Train of |
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Consciousness |
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Ahead of time. In a cage. Welcome to the Train of Consciousness! Someone on the platform is screaming, “ASSHOLE!” for some unknown reason. As our train pulls away and slowly accelerates, you have the distinct impression the word they screamed is still reverberating inside their own pool of being, that the tiny bell of their own brain is continually screaming, “asshole!” — at themselves! It is true that whenever you get the suddenly powerful urge to urinate, you may have suppressed the wish to blow a gentle fart to the breeze, and in so clenching your inner asshole muscles, you've allowed them to press against your kidneys, thereby making you believe you have to take a pee really fast. No, no, no! What you may not understand is how to sense the nerve pathways inside your own body, and to tell the difference there, between relaxing your asshole muscles, and relaxing your urination muscles. Just a slight adjustment there, and there! ... fart now and see how your urge to pee ... disappears! |
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When I was seventeen, a damn girl at Milton Academy, who had been writing me love letters, didn't actually know how to hold hands, to give the muscles of her fingers a spark of life, so to speak, and being the sub-moron that I was, it made me want to kill myself. I told this story to a friend at Dartmouth, who told the Dean of Freshmen, who told me I had to either see a shrink or leave school for some reason. So I left Dartmouth! |
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I moved to New Orleans and worked as a deckhand on an offshore oil rig supply ship, and one day, one of the men we were transporting back from a mammoth oil rig lost his high school ring and accused me of stealing it. I offered to give him my own damn ring, with a Dartmouth seal on it and all, made of gold, and this enraged the fellow even more, who stated he would settle this once and for all when we reached shore. If I had only known how to respond, “Smarten up!" or “Wise up!" the way a Mafia gangster from the New Jersey boroughs might have known, all this false accusation stuff would have evaporated by means of my angry response. Short and sweet, right? Fight false accusation with conscious anger! Then the girl from Milton Academy wrote me another love letter! Shit! |
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When someone screams, “ASSHOLE!” just say anything at all back, appending the word, sweetie. “How do you like that, sweetie!” “Nothing to land me in jail, sweetie!” “Relax, sweetie!” |
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Many, many women claim they have no use whatsoever with consciousness rising, because they always know what to say back. They'd say things like, “Are you looking for a fight?” A cat fight between two women is one thing, losing a tooth in a real brawl is more of an expensive proposition. I think a person might learn more highbrow things. Anyway, when an aggressive woman gets alone, she'll often confess, “I don't know what to say! Scream at the world!” |
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People have a deep-seated wish to improve themselves, and it's true. When I felt I wanted to kill myself because a fifteen-year-old girl wouldn't hold my hand back, what I really felt miserable about was I didn't have the adult nature to inspire her to hold my hand. I felt despair for the wish for more being. |
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That's why I've invited you onto this Train of Consciousness! So you won't kill yourself! And recreational drugs aren't going to get you there, either. Anyone sitting around shooting up heroin or meth, is really looking for spark and connection. That's why it's never really a War Against Drugs. What any expert will tell you is, you can't work on the brain directly. You have to use indirection. Meanwhile, they'll arrange little social groups. Get it? |
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The Beauty-Force |
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Heals & Accelerates |
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It comes up from behind, literally, extending from the tailbone up your spine to the base of your skull, where it stops, then can go either directly right, or directly left, then down into your shoulders. You feel like a horse. The first thing you tell it is, “Go Slow!” |
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You feel its power dynamo, all through your body, and realize it's a force to be reckoned with. My teacher used to tell me, “Preparation is everything,” and would also say, at various times, “Happiness can be defined as having a smooth-running engine and large horizons.” I'm in the mood for calling this, that you're reading, a train that's just accelerating from the station, leaving behind you-know-who. |
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Telepathy originates in the back of the skull. Isn't that interesting? There are no real sensory nerve cells there, so it's in a place that you could imagine was out-of-body, though it isn't. Front of the skull has to do with comparisons between deep-seated memories, the liquid stairway of imagination, and impressions of your own emotional center, originating in the solar plexus, then resurfacing somewhere else, in a place that's a little dangerous to talk about, because if I mentioned it, and you went there, it could kill you. You're supposed to let IT go there, as it pleases. |
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People who attack you from outside the train, who are totally anonymous from your point of view, you could describe as citizens of the Bozosphere. I'm not going to bore through the slipstream of personal attacks I've received from the Bozosphere over the course of my life. Childhood rape creates a kind of turbulence. Leave it to say, “With a switch. Scalding hot.” I think that describes them well enough. |
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After my two-year leave of absence from Dartmouth, I returned, majored in mathematics, and worked for them at the Kiewit Computation Center, just to make a few dollars. Programming is fun. Stay at the bottom. It's nothing about being a big shot. When I woke up this morning the screen of my imagination projected an empty park bench within a grove of trees and other vegetation, and gave me the impression of potential. |
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Society Has |
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No Soul |
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And dead people have a terrible social life. As soon as you realize automatons are pushing you around, you do all right. There's only just so much hatred in the world, and a Consciousness Task Force (CTF) could easily transform it into a Stupid World Order (SWO). |
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There's a part of a person susceptable to being hypnotized. Experiment. Try not going along. Tastes good! |
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Stub your toe! Nothing like a snake coming around to bite its own tail! |
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There's nothing original. It's either a little animal or a cookie wrapper blowing by. Why is it so difficult to pick up a little animal? Got whales? Eat plastic! Ease the great sorrow. Thank you, God. You may have had it, but I doubt it. |
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A thought more pure than any other. |
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An ancient mantra, a hundred times a day :: “More radiant than the sun, purer than the snow, subtler than the ether, this is the self, the spirit within my heart, I am that self, that self am I.” |
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Catalytic Responses |
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to Bullying |
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Bullies come in all shapes and all sizes. I saw a man mopping the floor at Starbuck's this morning. I returned to reading my newspaper. There was a disturbance, not an earthquake, and when I looked up, saw the spill. Another man had dropped his drink, mingled with ice cubes, near a counter, and out of the crowd appeared a man wearing a name tag, presenting himself as an authority figure. As the crowd around the spilt drink separated, the man with a mop could ease his way in, and the faux manager said, “Are you not awake yet?” |
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There was nothing at all wrong with the man with a mop. He'd already made it to work, he'd clearly performed many duties there at Starbuck's, including the ongoing task of mopping the floor. Let's not even get to the motivations of the man who said, “Are you not awake yet?” for everyone to hear. |
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If the man with a mop had fortified himself with a few stock phrases, such as “What a difference!” or “You never know!” he might have kept the insult from sinking in. Instead he kept silent. |
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The purpose of this webpage is to provide the reader with catalytic responses. These are responses that can change everything. |
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Social, Economic, |
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Intimate Ideas |
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All ideas, all at once, very nice. Notice other people's movements, facial expressions, gestures, tones of voice, and postures. Wooo! That's a lot! That's your social life! Then notice your own movements, facial expressions, gestures, tones of voice, and postures. “I wish to remember myself.” Notice other people's “wavicles,” a persistence of memory. |
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Don't despair! You own you. That's your economic engine. You own an actual live human being. “All have the wish for more being ... You can defy anything which may happen to you—by looking at yourself as another person, you can lift your nose above the flood.” —Orage, 1930. |
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Here comes the intimate thought :: The two of us, unlayered, like onions. |
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In the bus I sat across from a man I'd talked to once, a Black man I couldn't quite remember. My attitude was a mixture of a West Coast person's idea of defensive hostility, and an East Coast person's notion of leaving other people alone. When I did look at him, he was glancing away, and I couldn't help seeing something moving in his eyes, like a swimmer in a pool of melancholy, and for some reason, we began talking again, and what came between us was quite the opposite of the blues. |
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WEBSITE :: 1458privileged.com / The Economics of No Debt / Copyright © 2018 Richard Ames Hart. |
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spiritandconnection.com / “80 Super Polite Ways to Say NO!” |
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juicy-bonus.com / “nipping things in the bud” |
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1010playbook.com / “The Skinny” |
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Treasury for de' Bad People / “This particular page contains the entire Backtalktionary” |
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c-cin.com / “Feedback” |
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