Saturday, October 8, 2011
Bruno Burning (Sci-Fi Parts III, IV, V)
Bruno Burning (Sci-Fi Parts III, IV, V) October 7th, 8th, 2011
III Marking the Pathways
Bruno laughed at Caleb while they were walking aimlessly down another corridor when he realised what Caleb was doing.
"What are you doing, Caleb?"
"Well, I'm marking my territory. There is nothing to smell here in this new place. It is as if you were blind."
"What good is that if you are only seeing your own thoughts and paths?"
"On the contrary, Bruno. Should we need to go back the way we came I can find the way. Like when we play chess - you can only "connect the dots", analyze the game in the past moves you made. The future, we can only make a reasonable guess seeing but a few simplified moves ahead. But we do learn and get better at the game."
"I have heard, Caleb, that in the quantum theory we can only see into the future to the extent we can see into the past."
"Would it were that simple. As with any game in the many-world and multi-verse the winner is the last one not to make a blunder as their centers shift and their thoughts in one world a chess master even for those who can barely play or for the master falling from his skill briefly far away from the mastery where all games become draws."
"Do you get a glimpse of anything in our future leave these hallways and catacombs with your traces of hot prime Caleb odor?"
"I see that this orb will bear your name, Bruno with a face as if one of our once touching the worlds time of godhead and even other Bruno's in paradox. As if a star with its twelve rays and wires between such worlds, free or stolen from each other, metered, taxed with tolls where magic becomes light. I the K-group or sphere and lesser god too, of the ninth dimension of hypernumbers, playing K-9 fetch."
"I sense something also, that we face another cycle of the equinox of autumn, still a higher space. But as we look back we can come to where our branching paths begin and there transcend this time, so to begin anew, we once existing now solid in our knowing."
"I suppose that could be so, Caleb, somewhere in the tidal pools and tugs of incredible perfection, we who find the best of possible worlds. Yet in the furthest visions of Time's awakened while alive I sense beyond the faerie fields and their faerie particles and waves, so many parallels or perpendiculars consuming each other that they may as well have never been.
"But this is just a vague feeling and all too close for we lived long enough, surprised we survived that as unique yet ubiquitous we gaze upon in awe and marvel.
"But by that I don not mean the gargoyles stone or spirit here at the quoin of a new cathedral to decorate for our claims of arrogance in pride or whispers in our ears, heard or unheard for humility, that in the fissures of the fabric of space and time no matter where the steeples point to each other or away, that the dark mirror of our ongoing surpassed wisdom must ever return to chaos."
* * *
IV Nothing Cold
How naive I was, childish or childlike in the genius, to believe we all capable of growing wings. That not everyone desires awakening, clings to the gift of life. They, who have no grounds of justice save formality in going thru the motions -nor peers to measure the confessions and forgiveness unseen in our hearts.
As I await the flame to light my bond fire to be branded by it, timeless its glory to follow and define me that otherwise I, today's monster in their real or rumored superstitious consensus not be the eternal but forgotten Martyr thus not as much a model for their lives.
Yet it is as if the gods, or nature that can still heal herself despite us, were merciful. For we can only boil and not endure the thousand melting lead degrees, loosing consciousness where the spectrum of our ignorance is still bliss.
Some sense our worlds in the hierarchy of acceleration, as do the paramedics in their siren chariots that the worlds end in ice - saying nothing cold can be declared dead, nor warm the time of birth or death a certain tally mark, so to our halos of the boundless fire.
* * *
One last vision looped through time after Bruno became insensitive to physical pain. He recalled Caleb asking what he thought it would be like the last few seconds and what would he see with his disembodied head during the exploding frenzy and maddened crowd at the time of guillotines.
Peace came over him, that lost or gained when life passes in review or in a fleeting moment revelled in the dream as much anything as real. Olney, earthbound, homeless and bare-footed, Eros, a shabby description of a god as Holy Plotinus wrote in his book of Nine- walking through the quad at the great Midwestern University too long delayed his admission despite high scores from the entrance exams. That place the news said was the best for woman's studies, that and the highest rate of them all for women binge drinking.
Sunday after homecoming he comes across the Mermaid as if her walk of shame became her passed out on the chilly, dewy grass. "Are you OK?" he shook her and recognized him, asking if he would point the way to the bus stop so she could get home. It was on the other side of the quad but she could not walk far.
Being morning at this time many well dressed faculty walked their dogs. She was following Oln on all fours. Coming near them, if they pretended not to see Oln and the Mermaid at all, they glared and made loud "Hmmmmmf's". Olney reach for comic but biting humor in the awkwardness of the moment:
"At least I do not have to keep her on a leash." Then the ladies turned their heads away.
* * *