Inverted thought bubble

In analogy to reciprocal space: here is the inverted thought bubble.

It is thinking in German and it is here for your entertainment.

Woman

Mother, rule the world

Lead the way through mist and darkness

Mother, take their hands

Let them feel your love and kindness

Feed them, bleed for them

Be wise

Daughter, take your time

Sit down and listen to their stories

Daughter, make them proud

Give them a share of your glory

Thrust them, be with them

When the end is near

Woman, be yourself

Live the life that you dream of

Woman, touch the stars

And feel the ground that you walk on

Be true, and would you

Walk for a while by my side

From the archives of Archie's old lyrics: feel free to make a song with that (found again late on a mother's day)

Heaven and Hell

From the doors of perception to heaven and hell?

I am stuck somewhere in the middle of the sequel and I have the impression that after achieving enlightenment through mescalin, he lost it again afterwards, or got lost in trying to explain his experience.

The doors were refreshing and inspiring, its sequel is confusing and boring.

After all the problem to try to use words for the description of something that cannot be described.
At least "The Doors of perception" show that Huxley was there, that he had the experience.

It is indeed some sort of heaven.
But hell follows if you cannot go on, if you try to cling to the experience, hold on to it.

However you call this being One-with-All, however you get there, this experience has to be built brick by brick. Otherwise it is only temporarily possible, or it will leave you in simple madness.

SO let us go on: on a long rocky road, without achieving anything.

Good night

The doors of perception

Open the door, break on through to the other side, until the end, my beautiful friend, the end.
And when the music is over, turn out the light.
The quick and dirty way through heaven and hell, that can only be travelled safely by people with a sound liver and a solid psychological disposition, seems to be a dead end street for some people, too.
Some arrive there involuntarily, in schizophrenia and psychosis.
Some need a few reincarnations to be fit to leave the cabbage fields of everyday consumerism.
Nevertheless it is worth the trip.
How can you find out that you are already where you ought to be?
There are countless answers to that question and even more people whose intention it is to tell you that you are not there, that you need to buy things to get there, take things to get there, work, try harder, climb mountains or dig through endless mud.
My advice is, forget it.
Just breathe three times (not two never four) deeply and awake (another stolen hint: Thanx Thich)
And as I am doing it myself now, I am leaving the domain of words again, no mescalin, I promise, adenochrome, maybe, no LSD, just one more song, maybe.
See you tomorrow.
On the other side.

Animal

The Quarry

Iain Banks used to question the seemingly normal things in life.
He put the extreme into focus, into the centre.
He often fooled us into a black and white world where you, as a reader either tried to escape into the gray or permanently chose the wrong side of the medal.

I love him for that.
I miss him for that.

Make a line in the news

From my humble beginnings at school, through chemical engineering, sociology, Zen and communication science I have finally arrived in newsrooms and media houses.


👽

There I wander like an alien doing research on an exotic planet.
What do Zen and News have in common?

I think both deal with the here and now, with the eternal present. Zen practice tries to keep you there.
News are a sort of photograph of the now, that on the one hand is there to be consumes instantly and maybe forgotten, on the other hand it is achronicle of the world rolling steadily towards chaos.

I prefer Zen.

But I respect the news process. It is my profession to study it.

Now I'll go back  from the there to the here and from the virtual to the real now.

All the sisters of mercy

Leonard Cohen is singing to me while I am reflecting on Ian Banks "The Quarry" and while I am looking forward to Aldous Huxley's "The Doors of Perception".
I have only 4 minutes left to tell you this story.
Meanwhile my coffee is turning cold.
I actually want to express myself.
But i don't know about what.
So I think that I have reached a certain state of enlightenment.
Emptiness, void, hey that's no way to say goodbye.
2 minutes, Cohen again.
1 minute
pointless but who cares
who
who am I?
aaaaahhhhh.