Discerning Autumn

Comment to Ulla before today's modest thoughts posted:

Ulla,

a most excellent post- and one I am so grateful for the nuts and bolts under the theory- I find myself learning something new!

I found and answered some comments on my blogspot (I did not set any spam filters on but had to undo them- one from Matti I am sorry I missed in our delayed communications that mess up the continuity of our dialog.

I see connections from what we are all saying if we can pin it down- what is this quadraplex but topology of four-ness along the lines of topological and string-like theories and yes, Dirac? And my more holonic way to see things (I have recent posts trying to describe how I see the dimensions now if we are to accept certain assumptions made by say Hawking- then other things logically follow or the theory lacks something essential.

I think you might see that Rowlands showing there can be more than Crick and Watson may have some value?

The PeSla

* * *

Discerning Autumn

Last night I stayed out late as a customer and not a musician at the Mouse Trap bar open mike and watched how the musicians have grown and the house band Evergreen Grass with their better equipment.

My last post on a different sense on how to view space occasionally on my mind when the music was side B or not as compelling as a new song of the group. So I reach for a metaphor. These five souls, the banjo player, the guitar player, the bass player, the mandolin player, the harmonica player (yes, the fiddle player has been off on another gig for awhile.) But when you consider how much music is practice and automatic, and that each of these souls is double (or in a mirror sense quadraplex in expression) brained- that is what they are and what they are in some evolving context of the audience and otherness, Ten or Twelve dimensions as we vaguely understand string dimensions, could be an apt metaphor.

For if the dimensions beyond two or so are more illusions than solidity as they vanish in the small, that microworld that can be influential as top down or bottom up but the top according to Hawking is to chaotic to be a unified theory of everything-or perhaps the freedoms vanish in the communications if some parts of the whole is delayed- as in papers lately that show there can be too much said and the social network breaks into some place of zero communications despite the ever more rapid speed of communication - here at last the value of statistical methods and computer modeling limited to some reductionist idea and consequence is a useful picture and part of a still bigger picture, if then an illusion of dimensions in this sense- clearly (and old Eddington was right by the way to show at the base of the dimensionless constant we have to add more even it this is unexplained outside of our rigid models that allow for physical measurements), Then why not a description of say the 9 stringlike dimensions as a topology here and now in our three space that shifts between three would be solid space dimensions and the consequent topology?

For weaving between the five players as to which side they present of their participation with the music, music that crosses and reverberates across both sides of the brain, music that grows blurry or automatic under the influence of various internal and external substances- booze and groupies and so on. We have quite a topology to enhance the basic chord structures that set up the holes and membranes of twos and three of those whose music is together and not delayed, who adjusts the not perceivable errors to the audience that the band reaches a professional unity of theory and mastery of timing that is received by the audience as a song. Thus at the plateau beyond eight dimensions not an emptiness of topology but a vast new terrain to understands of the presence of all possible universes without unintelligible restrictions save our own imaginations to accept the jazz beyond the diatonic loops and permutations.

Of the other world of the failed state beyond the failed states- the great empires of the Americas, Quebec and the united states, the confederate states and the greater central American and Caribbean confederation- who is to say we are not part of that artificial world and alternate history?
* * *


Discerning Autumn- the cycles we find ourselves within and the slow dawning that we change, perhaps to reach some peak of experience and understanding- and the idea of autumn where one can withdraw and shed leaves to protect the core within us with the last hope that maybe we survive the winter for some new birth.

So what is our life then when for whatever reason, by wounds of loss or by the shear joy of living in a world where we are fortunate enough to know caring and care for people, that we get the idea there is some moral duty to extend life- that the game is not to be accepted that it is over? Even when I do not understand those who would not want life to last forever and that the reality is the sanity of its fleeting moment and the trade of our need for space more than time- is science not in the end the reach for this better quality of life and its endurance, survival, sense of achievement stored up as the sunlight and treasure not to vanish in a wasteful meaningless lifelong effort in the moment?

Was the child amazed at the sprouting hair on the knuckle of his big toes unaware that his being changes, rests awhile in some sense of immortality that he is not aware that the unity of his purpose and body goes rapidly down hill- and once he achieved a good sense of such changes of time- How can he not see that in the era and reality he is in- that it is too late to achieve the dream- to know enough to assure and consolidate against the betrayal of his own body and make the not forbidden by nature repairs? Yes, for the mainstream it is clear we are curious, as much as our own picture if we can bear to see it, as if it applied to others only, as to what is the ravages of cancer or old age that commands our interest and bids us seek deeper into the clockwork and music of nature for what is otherwise a lazy basking in the sun of our dreams? No great work is achieved as high as what we with open eyes may desire or hope to bring into this world as that which goads us by fear of the known and unknown- that which puts us to sleep again into false idols and gods.

It may not be that in the end, in the great plateau of the unknown that begins after the unimaginable drive and complexity of even a single leaf- that what is left is our sense of the nothingness- but the clear blue and untainted sky, stainless of our blood lusts or where blood has redeemed our artificial theories- that as death itself becomes meaningless and long forgotten and what we know of the greater beyond and deeps of the invisible and small, can be only unified by our in the world and throughout all worlds consciousness of our being. If we see a little more clearly than the saints of science who have gone before us- we cannot feel sadness that in our time we worked as best we could, in blindness and faith perhaps, in experiment, to add to it what small gain of unity we could- and that I praise you who have found and worked in such a noble purpose!

* * *