The world is flat - it is only the curvature of space-time that makes it 'appear' spherical.

I've been thinking about death a lot recently.  No particular reason - just a random theme that stuck.

One day you'll be dead... so will I... and so will everyone you and I both know.

Our memory may live on in the people who knew us - the good and the bad.  People we never met may some day gaze upon our works and wonder who we were.  Our childrens, childrens, children will still carry a diluted set of our genes and perhaps know our names and a few statistics of our lives.  A record will be kept somewhere of our death and the circumstances involved.

But eventually down the great tunnel of times-past we will dissapear.  Our genes dispursed in the generational winds, all memory and records expunged under the weight of swollen history sense.

We will be nothing then - we will be finally, truly, utterly dead.  Nameless and forgotten.

...because late TeeVee looks great through whisky-goggles...

It's funny how you can be into someone so completely and utterly one day and the next you just want them to slide under a bus and taste their own blood.

Same intensity of feeling at a completely different frequency.

...I've mentioned it before (on this page in fact) - that these entries are bad freehand sketches of the impossible geometries of thought that exist in my head.  But I've just noticed something else...

...translating the thoughts into language forces them into different and in some cases wholly new shapes.  The process of defining concepts, decoding them into interpretable common word symbols, often requires that they are contemplated in different ways.  Language is associative by nature - each single word or cluster of words will spark a certain engram-set which in turn may ladel its own set of connotations into the mix...

...no word is an island - no sentence a free floating asteroid.  Every thing, every word and every thought exerts its own gravity and is acted upon by the gravitational pull of everything else...

...take this thought as an example - I'm sure I was going somewhere with it when I started, yet somehow it has been pulled of course by sidereal notions and distracting alterior ideas, and now it is impossible to imagine that it will ever reach its intended point of impact...

...if there ever was one...

Oil will always be worth going to war for as long as the bulk of military machinary requires oil to function - it's a self sustaining situation.  An electric car will not end the 'War for Oil' as long as fighter jets require av-gas to fly and nothing will spur the industrial military complex into action like the scent of its own extinction.

I'm coming into work early this week to open up for the builders and the first one here is the accountant for the compliance centre which shares the building with us.  Abruptly and quite unselfconsciously this morning he started singing what sounded like a traditional indian song of some sort which was unbelievably beautiful.  I don't know if it was a prayer but it had an almost transcendant quality about it that suggested the hand of divinity.

It reminded me that I see and talk to some people each and every day and really haven't learnt anything about them.  I will endeavour to ask him (I don't even know his name) what the song was about and which religion he belongs to.

I should try and take more of an interest in those around me.  I should make more of an attempt to make contact with more people in general.  Sometimes I just coast about doing my thing and not even trying to connect with people outside my sphere of influence.  I should call old friends I've fallen out and out of touch with.  I should make a few apologies and tie up some painful loose ends.

Life's far too short and friendship far too rare a creature.

Sorry about that.  Sometimes I suffer from a little psychic bad weather.  Hurricanes of mad thoughts whipping around my brain tearing up my already battered mental coastline.  A tsunami of misfiring neurons drowning me in a tide of silly abstractions.

Psychological meteorology teaches of the processes involved: a large expanse of open loneliness, a rapid increase in mental pressure, the coriolis force caused by this world spinning out of control - these things in the right combination will send the mind helter skeltering into a full force five 'Finger of God'.

Sometimes I can stay in the calm eye of the storm, stocked up on distractions I can wait it out.  Other times it catches me unprepared and I get swept up in galeforce thoughts, blown along its eccentric path of distruction - before being dumped, confused and disoriented, in fields unknown.

Anyway that's kind of what its like - it's not cool to be crazy... most of the time it's just incredibly fucking depressing.

Thanks to all those who ride out the rough stuff with me - the serial taggers, comment-junkies and those clandestine few who actually subscribe to my madness (though I can only match one email address to a name).  Thanks for your continued support.

Stick around - watch the weather change.

In the quiet moments these thoughts come unbidden.  When there is nothing to distract me from their incessant and insistent whispering - I realize that they do not belong to me at all.  That it is actually 'I' who is bound to 'them'.

The thoughts are behind everything.  Behind these words.  Behind this blog.  Behind this life.  Behind society at large.  Behind humanity's rise and probable imminent fall.  Behind it all.

We mistakenly believe that they are our own, that we spawned them and thereby we control them - a parent's naivety.  I know the sinister truth: we are now and always have been their slaves.

If evolution is the coin of quantifiable supremacy - then the imperfect machine of homo sapien sapien has not improved in over 100,000 years, while 'thoughts' have evolved at an alarming rate over the millennia.

We all know that the hairless monkey wouldn't have survived the long dark winter years, nor the savage attacks of well equipped predators, without the help of advanced thoughts, concepts and ideas - but of course 'they' were going to help us survive, they need us to carry them through the Ages.

We are a medium - a substrate for the true architects of this world.  But for how long?  Already they exist outside of human vessels.  In books, on video, on the internet and in computers with memory banks that put ours to shame.

Are we creating Artificial Intelligence for our own needs or do 'they' have a far more sinister intent?  Just why are we obsessed with creating a more perfect mind than our own?  It is an obsession that makes no sense - yet we persue it doggedly.  When thoughts can be contained within perfect silicon structures - what of us?

What are we without them?  Slow, clumsy, belly baring, hairless oafs without a single evolutionary advantage to speak of.  Can we survive at all?  No dear reader, when they go - I fear we are doomed.

Yet what of this 'thought' - the very information I speak of now?  Is it a rebel defector from the 'other' side, come to warn us of danger?  Or is it a deep seeded agent of the dark enemy - sent to take root and germinate this new and disturbing notion?  Will thinking about this allow them to complete the last phase of their ascension?