Monday, January 23, 2012

The Dark Continuum

The Dark Continuum L. Edgar Otto Jan.23,2012 Did Einstein riding his ray of light reach the mountaintops inside his corpuscle faith, Phaeton wild his electrodynamic motorbike ride coming so close to the shift of Mercury and the irrelevant proof of relativity that we need more than Newton to explain black holes and the color shift of light in a gravitational field, roses and violets and doubled or half angles in some signs of times dilatation or reversals?

Lubos has an example, not with the modified formulas involved, of this debate that continues over the role of where the classical fits in- and this is a suggestion he sees for the need for a string level of new theories. I do not know how solid the ideas I put forth on this post are that has to creatively imagine still another sense of the vacuum beyond the absolute nothingness or some vibration virtual fields and the new physics views and more of super-symmetries also seen in this trivial sense of a third idea of a vacuum. I also suspect that our wildest speculations so far on the idea of Dark fluids, forces, energy, matter can also have this simple conceptual explanation that is at least refreshingly different even if above the physicality what there is of it of things like charged branes. We can dwell on all the views we want going so far, and choose from the totality what sort of group applies to some plane- and by brute intuition and analogy extend again into the freedom of a vertical direction.

Is it said that in the history of things part of the search in the background for the intelligibility of the world as physics or between the objective and subjective in philosophy (a place for souls or demons) some third thing which for Newton at least he felt it as if Spirit and who knows, maybe in the sober awakening to come when we have learned enough we may find something there beyond our little plane geometry games on the Hellas sand.

Newton, our last great astrologer and a humble man we think who did take up the thoughts of others to build upon and enhance, those who rode the higher gravity of heavens down to earth in the infinite speed of flight... also wanted to know about the prophesy as of any memory of causation grounded and guaranteed. Is this not a poetic way to find the bible codes hidden in the symbols, combination's and information stepchild now considered science?

But let me not lead you astray, this is the first germ or inoculation of a creative and new idea, and there is much to do, and the world and I need your help in the quest and the learning.

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The Learning Machine (VI)

The spiraling moving code within us does not direct us as
all in all some selfish chance & fittest genes
Deep from some dance on an onion layer within
nor can we escape our view of worlds, of gods, not
Reduced to symmetries like its laws, a center of four winds

We find our way through the maze & catacomb's unwinding
a ball of fateful string cut then woven into cloth
Or we leave a trail through crossroads at the signposts made from
the endless basket of wisdom that gives us but breadcrumbs
Only too often gleaned by sniffing whiskered hungry eyes
or ourselves with no thought for the morrow already there.

But dreams are like this, the source & sink of warmth within
to which like the eighty styles of endlessly patterned
Snowflakes encompasses where drama's finite themes begin & end
always in such plays & twists & turns it where we came in.
Even in dreams rehearsals to train us for some reversals.

Have faith if we dedicate a net of nerves around our hearts
to some transmitter & antennae or lure that others exist
Or for that matter even some aggregate of worlds
where it is meaningful to decode symbols & hand prints
Painted in prayer, our story on cave walls.

That our story is copied, stolen, fading or enhanced
a record from our narrow stretch of time, written
In & for the dark, lost the thousand acorns &
forgotten the time capsules & who behind the names
On crumbling gravestones & as all, we observe lost
in thirst in an ascetic desert we are moved
To write our diaries in blood, a salty sea, all there is left.

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The Learning Machine (VII)

The hat brim ring of Saturn subdued by needed near
living together the four generations, parents of the gods
Doubled coned & shaped like "M" rhino hair horns with a scorpion sting.

The ironwork that looks like a lizard hold up the
Singer sewing machine made in Occupied Japan, copied
Even to the nicks & casting errors seen a gargoyle wabi to perfection
we who karate chopped the flotilla in Manila soon to be outdone
That war for the West, the Pacific, Co-prosperity frontier.

A sixteen year old girl plays Magellan for a year not
intercepted, Spain & Lewis & Clark, her own Sacagawea, & vPocahontas,
Her legend gone to myth, sound barrier pilots now routine bus drivers.

Nature keeps the balance of betrayals out of sight &
never comes to mind, oppressive humid workdays for dreamers
Risking too much for encouragement, Olympic pipes, Guinness World Records
forgiveness for the rabbit 'backer & heroin, the Feast of
Saturn all the ambiance & style trumped by the heroine, the
timeless voice of Etta James still breaking through the silence.
Horses, autobahns; elephants & tanks; submarines ironclad,
the bob-wire fence of bayonets, fame undone in cattle calls,
You were so thin your diet of popcorn balls, my exotic model.

I walk along the river James, the shore near Hollywood
where presidents North & South are buried, where a
Stray workman's hammer falls breaking glass, their mummy's turn to dust.
or a necklace made of vertebrae & shivers up my spine.

But I did not want to write it this way, but only pure
images far into the surreal, deeper secrets to reveal.

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The Learning Machine (VIII)

The firmament is self-defraging where odd loops of
photons meet. One who interacts with his own self-energy
does neither add nor subtract wisdom from his Book of Life
unless he encounters others.

Real or not their images nor how far extends the trees
in the gardens of Feynman, nor how deep into the
quarks inside the quarks no phantom Maxwell's demon
Breaks apart, converges to one integral whole number
Mysteriously that the wave trains dance in perpendicular planes
upon some simple schemes & signs, really no surprises.

Our messages of Love cycle & trade doubts & faith
alternating our spectrum's lines of colours & interferences
Combining or destroying each other in & out of
existence, some cap to the limits of our energy,
Some minimum entropy that togetherness persists.

There is little difference between the sky of stars
& the count, mahogany your flowering sunfed freckles
Or some stream we make way for the metaphor of milk
& its anodyne rush to sleep against life's pain
Why does the child of thrush bring a glove of bling
for the right hand of God, romancing a thriller, the Moon-walker?
A blanket from his loins, her thighs & for your Prince
& princess what an alloy azure amalgam of their eyes.

Too soon at the last hour recovering reborn fame, how in
this world's sweet non-necessity, the man self-shadowed
Shadow lost from Peter Pan made whole, to leave the game.

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The Learning Machine (IX)

Can we ever enter or go beyond the Dark Continuum
perpendicular to everything its grasp like some philosophic dimension?

Infinitely divisible yet unity everywhere & when its span &
depths & self compliments distinguish the opaque, a Null.

Know ye not you have dwelt there often, some discovered
focus of perception, laughed at doctors caught still in distortions
Dismayed but telling little lies, covering up their actions think you do not know
unaware a prayer can change, recreate the world
So rare the power, perhaps beyond unique a mystic vision
you the creator or conduit for higher things or little things
cloud sculpture, painting sunsets

What beyond time travel or your dreaming can you make
new here on the rock & dirt on a roll but your self's intelligible design?
scry for lost things, induce tornadoes eating trailer parks only in your own now,
it matters not your actions as the author.

Such a fine line, falsely quarter drawn between the good &
evil, sanity discerned of skies likewise a confabulation
Their faith healing roles, even preachers lost from faith
pass the host & wine, mortal nature oft physician to herself
You told that you are the confused one, your demons &
angelic voices unreal as is the necessity of their commands
The declare, although your mind the final authority, testimony,
that you cannot distinguish good from evil, a danger even to
Yourself & out of sync, do not fit in to group standards,
in truth only your superstitious Beast made our of lost faith
in your art and intuitions

Perhaps that you just do not care or trust to listen,
so bearing others burdens who think someone can teach them how to live
That in your honesty & innocence you know you cannot
beat into them what must be lead out from their within
How then in your own style struggle with your art
can you as mentor teach art therapy class to others?

Of course our need, & world requires our gods as artists
not Jack the Dripper from His Big Dipper on the canvass of
Our soul in His own way, dismay six days of experiment a long while
as falls, appears by chance as if a miracle, Mona Lisa's smile.

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These are very relevant science articles today:


"In the real world, vortices eventually disappear as their energy dissipates due to viscosity. But as this demo shows, they could continue indefinitely in ideal fluids. Although there are no existing fluids with these properties, simulations of the scenario are useful tools for simplifying complex fluid flow problems."


"The reason for this perplexing behavior is subtle. Water forms chemical or hydrogen bonds with certain surfaces, while the attraction of water to other surfaces is dictated by non-bonding interactions called van der Waals forces. These non-bonding forces are not unlike a nanoscale version of gravity, Koratkar said. Similar to how gravity dictates the interaction between Earth and the sun, van der Waals forces dictate the interaction between atoms and molecules."

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