In the Beginning There Was ()

So after these many decades I have finally determined what it was which was sitting on my couch. As described in the post 4 posts above this.

[An outside observer ( of course there were none ( except maybe () on
the couch ( that the others pretended not to see ( or maybe not ?
( the pretending I mean ))))

Every time over the years that I played that scene in my head, I could only describe it as an eclipse. As it seemed relevant to a discussion in this other thread: Archeotheology, I placed it there.

There are many people who deserve to be credited as contributors to this collaborative effort over the years. But after considering the possibility that some may respond with: "What the hell? If I had known that you would come up with that, I never would have talked to you at all! I sure hope you didn't mention my name in connection with it."

So therefore, I am not going to list the contributors by name.

It was the eclipse sitting on my couch. The Mother was barely managing to get my attention from behind the ().

originally posted by: pthena
a reply to: Nothin

( [ ( [ ( Pssst ! Hey Pthena ! Are we getting better at managing our fear of punctuation ? ) ] ) ] )

I thought that it was suggested(hinted) as superstition rather than mere fear.
Superstition comes from an excess of piety.
And piety is a religious virtue.

And I like religion
and don't want to loose it
( the good parts I mean).
=============================
So some people( celebrities in mythology ) came
for a social gathering at my apartment one day
( I was tempted to write in may (just to make it rhyme)
but was afraid that that would be fabrication (of a total sort
(if you if you get the drift )) then didn't ).

To cut a long story short there was much pointing
( that's what some people like to call it ( more nodding though
( the kind that indicates "look over there" ))) to,
An outside observer ( of course there were none ( except maybe () on
the couch ( that the others pretended not to see ( or maybe not ?
( the pretending I mean )))) might think there
was passing of the buck going on.

So eventually the final nod ( which I took to indicate finality ( not complete
finality ( but for the time being ))) was from a certain individual
( you would have to read The Gospel of Chiron for a clue as to who )
right back to me.

With that in mind and considering that those guests
may pop back in to resume the aforementioned social
gathering, I think it prudent to retain a bit of piety
( not excessive mind you, for excess leads to
undue superstition ).

That should be a fairly clear answer.

Oh yeah ! ( Clear as day. ( A foggy, ( dark day, (on the 21st of December, ( in Svalbard... )))))

Despite the ( possibly deliberate ) obfuscation, the sense of obscurity is all here, ( in this moment of perception. )

It just feels, ( to me ), that your text has so many layers, within layers, that even a family of Russian dolls would be scratching their cute little round heads.

Am afraid that even if contemplated-on for months, ( considering that was possible ) : it would still escape this mediocre mind. ( not really 'this' mind, but you know... ) ...

( But did kinda chuckle at the ( '...finality... for the time being...' ) part. )

originally posted by: pthena

Sequestered suggests a barrier of some sort.
Now we may call that barrier a wall if we so choose.
So let's just go ahead and do that.
Yes, of course there was a wall.

As for who exactly wrote the graffiti;
I know myself to be more than that.

Just imagine if one day a Wikipedia page appears:

Pthena, the presumed author of the graffiti (citation needed).

I would feel like ...
well I would ...

Let's just say that it would be a let down.

Ok then : We'll just say it was written by : Mouse, Anony....

a reply to: Nothin

Ok then : We'll just say it was written by : Mouse, Anony....

I'm pretty sure his name is now Dīmidius. Dīmidius had no name when he wrote the graffiti. And only now, when there is no Dīmidius, do we know the name.

a reply to: pthena

Sometimes with name : sometimes without...

a reply to: Nothin
Dīmidius means 'divide in two' or 'halve'.

a reply to: Itisnowagain

Yes.
A part. Apart. Not a whole person.
That is the author.

It seemed important to me to examine events surrounding the beginning of the present quest which seems to have reached a tentative conclusion.

In around 1997 I accidently heard this song.
It wasn't too big of an accident.
The radio was on.


Last night, when push came to shove
I finally wrote a creed.
First time that I've written a creed since 1991-ish.

So here it is:

The truth is that I know Manuela through personal revelation.

And then through decades of reading and thinking and comparing and re-reading and thinking and sudden epiphanies, I have come up with a creed.

Manuela is the living God.
() is what most people seek when they claim to seek God.
() is unknowable, unmovable, unnamable, and doesn't exist as we know existence.
Those seeking () are blinded from knowing the truth of Manuela.
Manuela is the Mother of that which exists.
Manuela is not eternal, for eternity does not exist as we know existence.
Manuela had a beginning as we know of beginnings.
She has an end as does all that exists.
She does not promise eternal life to anyone, not even Herself.
Humans are not special for being human.
The specialness is in existing as all other things which exist exist.
Those who seek not () are better able to appreciate Manuela, source of our existence and life.

Via con Dios!

( believer's note ) This creed is not unchangeable. It will most certainly change. This is what I believe now, but maybe not next week.

ETA: See! I freakin changed it already.

edit on 11-8-2020 by pthena because: (no reason given)

then changed it again.
edit on 11-8-2020 by pthena because: (no reason given)

still changing
edit on 11-8-2020 by pthena because: (no reason given)

www.abovetopsecret.com...

a reply to: pthena

Good morning
I'm back with that update I promised and a pic.
I refrained from telling this for a bit because I wanted to make sure I was observing correctly, also the story is a bit sad and I know you have a big heart, pthena.

As soon as those babies were born, I noticed that dad was no longer around. I kept waiting for him to show back up, but he never did.
Mom took control and tirelessly fed those two babies. I read that robin parents sometimes make 100 trips back and forth to feed those voracious guys. Her and her babies got very used to me peeking in from a distance.
About a week ago (?) the first little one made the leap! I saw him hopping about the yard, practicing short flights and landings.
The next day I was devastated that the first little one was nowhere in sight. The second robin baby had fledged and I got this picture of him

before discovering the very thing I had never seen in my yard, and what I'd least want to see right then--a CAT. Of course I let it know it wasn't welcome here.

Next time I went out into the yard it was empty. I was a wreck, looking through all of the bushes. The mom sat on a branch above me and sang what I thought was a mournful song. Luckily, this is NOT the end!!

Later in the afternoon, the funniest thing happened. Mom "led" a big baby back into the yard! She flew with "him" up to the fence, then down into my yard and he followed. Then mom took to a tree nearby while the baby preened for me and showed off its new prowess. I have no doubt she brought him back to set my mind at ease and so I would stop hunting around in the bushes.

The next day, two beautiful robins visited my yard. The mom again flew to a nearby tree, while the now enormous "baby" proudly showed off the berry in his mouth, and how proficient he was at flying and landing on a telephone wire.

This was last week, and they've clearly moved on to bigger and better things, but wasn't that sweet of them to come back to reassure me and to show off their skills?
I think both babies were fine, though I'll have no way to know for sure.

Have a good one, my friend!!

a reply to: zosimov

I have no doubt she brought him back to set my mind at ease and so I would stop hunting around in the bushes.

The next day, two beautiful robins visited my yard. The mom again flew to a nearby tree, while the now enormous "baby" proudly showed off the berry in his mouth, and how proficient he was at flying and landing on a telephone wire.

Birds are some of the nicest, most considerate people.

I think what the wrens did yesterday was a type of memorial service. And they let me attend.



Thank you.

a reply to: pthena

Of course they did! You are woven right into their story. Sounds like a lovely service.

a reply to: zosimov

We actually do have a cat. Strictly indoor cat.

Yesterday my Grand Daughter said, "Prince found a cricket!"

And I said, "It won't hurt him to eat a cricket."

"But it's brown!"

Eventually, since she seemed rather upset about it, I got up to check. It was a grasshopper.

So I thought to myself: "Prince gets plenty of food without supplemental grasshoppers."

I picked up the grasshopper and took it down to the bottom of the steps outside, for the birds, dontchaknow.

One of these days there may be a great grasshopper uprising against me.
Maybe the birds will help me fend that off.

a reply to: zosimov

I just finally got around to listening to the Lynard Skynard - Freebird.
Roaringly appropriate.

From the MORE on the youtube page:

Just three and a half months before the fateful plane crash that killed Skynyrd members Steve Gaines, his sister, backing vocalist Cassie Gaines (of the Honkettes), and lead vocalist Ronnie Van Zandt, Lynyrd Skynyrd played this 4th of July weekend program in Oakland.
...
legions of concert-going yokels to make millions of ironic requests over the years, "Free Bird."

For years and years in every bar I'd ever been in that had live musicians someone would yell out, "Freebird !"

The last verse though got me.

Lord, I can't change.
Won't you fly high, free bird, yeah?

The whole song up to that point was him talking about himself leaving,
then the last verse is like he's telling the girl to fly high. Like without him.

Reminded me of a slightly fictionalized account of the freeing of my ex-fiancé. Of coarse I was also freed in the process. They kinda go together it seems.
Never Make Promises - Like

It's a long story but the ending is way better than the fairy tale I wrote about it before it had fully run its course.