Gurdjieff's student John G. Bennett

J. G. Bennett wrote his autobiography, and this book details a lot
about Gurdjieff and Ouspensky and their students. I am not
particularly knowledgeable about these gentlemen, but Bennett's book,
"Witness" makes me feel better about the students Jan Cox left. At
least we are not wondering around looking for someone else to guide
us, at least we are not writing autobiographies. We do not seem to be
quoting the prophecies of anyone wearing a turban. We do not, as a
group, take seriously talk that emphasizes an i separate from the rest
of life. We do not sketch metaphysical diagrams while ignoring the
unspeakable. We certainly do not worry about the fate of Humanity.

But the above may be too harsh: I finished the book, after all. it is
possible Bennett was just pretending to be ordinary.

A Golden Turn

After I heard a discussion of the selection of the recordings to go on
the gold record sent along on Voyager I, it struck me as perhaps a
model for the origins of human speech itself.

There was a genuine effort to reflect on what would be understood by
someone or some being more intelligent than human beings---this sort
of task is not the talent of ordinary mentation. Some real effort
went into the selection of music, and various languages, recorded on
the gold record. Beethoven,Rock 'n Roll greetings in a large number of
languages, like Urdu, and others. The real message sent by earth on
Voyager I seems to be variety, though that is not how Carl Sagan's
crew saw their selection process. But the stretching necessary for
the selection task to compose the gold record resulted in --
inclusiveness and variety. The opposite really of the job of ordinary
mentation which is to divide. Some part of man's mind though
understood the job was NOT to define, divide, but to portray a rainbow
of mankind's variety and genius.

Back to the origins of speech though----surely this involved a similar
but incredibly more massive effort to----transcend the ordinary. The
first speech if I am correct in seeing a hint in the gold record
project, may have been guided by an attempt to comprehend something
above one's grasp. No doubt the ordinary would label that god, but
let us not be so inclined to labelling ourselves, because as soon as
you label something thusly, in fact what happens is you forget the
reality of what you were trying to define.

And another direction for the example of the gold record is the
recollection that, for the persevering mystical tracker, the job is
trying to produce a gold record every minute. One way to approach
this is by rotating the ordinary intellect through as much variety as
you can. Jan Cox used the picture of a rotating lighthouse lamp to
convey this, occasionally. The simple inclusion of variety to counter
the intellect's staring fixation on a single thing could be sufficient
to keep ordinary intellect open to the edge of discovery.

Bumper Music

Bumper music is those bland random bits of melody that fill in the
between chatter on the radio--they function to prevent dead air, and
cushion transitions on the air.
Maybe---

Thought is the bumper music for reality...

Touring the Turing Test

As you may recall the Turing Test was devised by the great computer
pioneer, Alan Turing, to elucidate when a computer might become human.
He devised this test in the 1940s, while he was working on breaking
the German codes during the war. The Turing test is this: if a person
communicating with a machine cannot tell if the machine is human or
not, then the machine can be considered sentient.

Actually there is a problem with this test----MOST PEOPLE would fail
the Turing test. A person in communication with a another person, and
trying to determine based on the communication if they were dealing
with a machine or a person could legitimately conclude the person in
question was a machine.

Mystical muskrats

Think of it this way. What if people confused the water with the
earthen dikes which exist to control the course of the water. What if
this analogy is a picture of the thought of people all over the globe. They
could be confusing the dirt with the water and assuming that the means
by which boats traverse water is by floating on the mud. We may
all be clay eaters.

Persons have complained that mystical texts are hard to read. Why
doesn't the author just say what he means? The writer with some
knowledge and the compassion to attempt conveying what he has seen,
has to counter not the ignorance of his listeners, but their knowledge.
His job includes clarifying the difference between clay (words) and
water (what words point to.) Since folks do not even glimpse the
nature of their inner confusion, the words of the mystic seek to
overflood the nature of words themselves -- a task destined perhaps to
ultimate, but not perhaps individual, failure. The splash of wild
water is prophesy and proof.

The flooding the mystic wants to share can change geography.

All of which does not mean that the muskrat making holes in the dam
knows what it is doing. Or that the muskrat does not.

--

Widows Talk

There is an architectural feature called a widows walk and it is a
balcony on an upper story of a coastal house where the mariners' wives
could watch the sea for signs of a returning ship. That the phrase is
"widows" walk got me thinking how much like words this feature is,
because no matter what you say, you are killing something when you
speak, you are losing. Like a woman up there looking out to sea has
already lost---if her husband were home, she would not be up there
scanning the horizon. How different the gull is, swooping over the
waves.

Buford Highway

This is a twist on Ken Kesey's 'you are either on the bus or off the
bus.' (I think that's what he said.) Anyway here in this southern city
we have buses and they almost all now have elaborate advertising
wrapped on them, photoreal stuff in many colors. If you match up the
scenes around the bus with the interior there is an interesting
contrast. You have people traveling to Doraville on a bus painted
with pictures of the Savannah beach. You have people slouched on
cracked plastic seats in a bus advertising BMW convertibles This
hardly counts as paradoxical since the advertising is emphatically NOT
for bus riders.

Yet the scene is a unit, combining truth and falsity, all
philosophical variants pushed together, all opinions folded into one
phrase, all colors in one blaze. The guy zipping past the public
transportation may think, can I manage a new Jaguar this summer, while
the person inside the bus wonders if he is getting any later. A unity
which laughs at any philosophical distance, which knows to specify any
school is to miss the point. A unity which exists to declare
multiplicity.

At the level of the person all are surrounded by ignorance and
(thankfully) ignorant of it. Yet the bus provides a sense of
destination to convertible driver
and bus passenger both, to distract them from the adjacent abyss.
Buses are like words. The bus points beyond itself, hints of things it
cannot deliver on. The bus will not be making any surprising stops.
The bus suggests travel but prevents any meaningful journey. Like
words.

If you accept ANY label whatsoever, you are at a bus stop. But how do
you express that you have to be both on and off the bus AT THE SAME
TIME, to get any discount on gravity?