Touching
Sing to the mountains
Sing to the skies
Bursting from fountains
Let river raise tides
The day her drawbridge touches the land
The day she fills the world
When all the love is faintly fanned
The woman's flag unfurled
The day the wonder of her voice
Rings out with no more pain
Is day that life has won its choice
The ending of the rain
The day the voice that ne'er holds back
Is singing, free of heart
Is day in which we find the knack
For chains to fall apart
For whatever reason, I was just stirred to reread Sentience. It really answers everything. This should have been accepted across the board long ago.
I still cringe at all of the typos that the first version contained (mostly repaired), but it is not so bad as to cause the book to be rejected. It is the stupour. Nothing else.
It took me fifteen books just to realize how deeply disturbed humanity remains and how unwilling humanity is to see through to the truth. What is truly appalling is that humanity would rather continue the destruction of its world and compromise all life on Earth rather than face the truth. It's easier to let the destruction roll on. That is pure animal. We never achieved responsibility for our actions because the most crucial action remains unacceptable in it current form.
All of the later books were my attempts to delve deeper, even in the absence of support. On all fronts, I made further progress as I proceeded. The only one that was really important was the delving into how men can succeed with ease. The rest, while useful to a dimwit, are not really important. Basically, the fourteen further books were attempts to penetrate the stupour as the depths of the stupour became more and more apparent.
But, really, once one sees it all, there is no going back. The truth that is crucial is that men have been fooling themselves all along. They can succeed. I could never really doubt that I was right about it all. It's just so damned obvious, once one sees the truth and refutes the lie that has held our sentience hostage all along.
One thing that threw me as I skimmed through the book. At the very end of the last chapter, I mention the Woman. That was just not possible in the original book because it was another two years before I encountered her. I guess I'm not terribly surprised that, when I edited the book (about twenty edits before i ever published and another twenty after it was published), I had to mention her. But, it initially took me by surprise. I'm glad I did so. She was crucial to my adamancy to carry on.
There's another point worth mentioning. I was driven to write the other books in the face of no reaction to the book. Was I wrong? Was I missing something? My confidence in what I was suggesting was still tentative in the face of such lack of reaction. Over the period of the next ten years and fourteen books, I became convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt. I am right. It is just too bad that humanity is too stupoured to confront its failure.
Our Garden Of Eden is still ahead of us.
You can't really believe that we frolicked with lions and tigers many millennia ago when we were little better than an animal and dumber than a rock, can you?
The Garden of Eden wasn't even a rational myth. That would be Pandora's Box. That was a myth that sought answers and warned us of the possible misstep that we stepped right into with myths like The Garden of Eden. If you are looking for more of an explanation, that would be in a couple of the earliest books.
Once we truly become human is when we will learn to love, maintain an emotional balance, think rationally, and fulfill our sentient state. For all intents and purposes, it will be a Garden Of Eden, as long as you don't expect utopia. If you expect an existence in which humanity can finally respect itself, then you are thinking in the right direction.
If you are looking for our demise that would be the mindless approach to life that we currently maintain.
John Lennon's song, Imagine, has always annoyed me.
It seems to be the way of a race that is seeking its sentience, a race that continues to cloud its sentience with delusions. Either dream (though never think) about being truly human. Just make it up as you go along. Or, surrender wholly to the animal.
It took a lot more than just imagination to understand what is wrong with humanity. It's typical of the stupour, though, in which we exist. Either imagine some utopia or give in to the animal rage, brutality, and stupour that maintains the dystopia.
So, let me get you to imagine something that describes a humanity that works.
Imagine that a woman can be certain that every man she meets still has his self-respect, honour, and dignity in tact because he knows how to love. Imagine, further, every man knowing how to love a woman the way she deserves. Imagine a couple that can love and, essentially, become one. Imagine a male gender that is not driven insane by its lack. Imagine a male gender that retains its self-respect.
Let me also get you to imagine why humanity doesn't work the way it is, why it remains an insane race that has never been able to fulfill its sentient promise.
The animal does not have the capacity to love. The animal also does not have the wit to destroy itself and everything with which it comes in contact. The male gender of a semi-sentient race has both the capacity to love and the capability to destroy itself and everything with which it comes in contact. The female gender of a semi-sentient race came into being not only with the capacity to love but the innate ability to love without fail. They have been trying to teach the male gender how to love for millennia. If only it were that simple. Something holds the male gender in thrall to the animal.
This is the difficult piece for a semi-sentient race to comprehend and accept. Why is it that, no matter how hard the female gender of a semi-sentient prehuman race tries to teach the male gender to love, the male gender cannot learn it? What is missing? Men certainly have the capacity to love, but it always breaks.
What is missing? What holds the male gender back from loving? It is certainly not the lack of desire, though most any old man will refute it (at least to himself) after a lifetime of its absence from his heart as it continues to be whittled away. Every young man, entering puberty, will be full of the desire to love before it is turned to ashes on the ground.
Women know from the moment of their birth how to give. Men learn from puberty onward to take only.
The capacity to love is inherent in the human race. It is part of being sentient. Its downfall begins in the bed because we are not quite human yet.
The requirement to fulfill our sentient state begins with the fulfillment of loving in bed. Our emotions will stabilize, our thoughts will clarify, and we will become human, sentient, and loving. The madness of men will be completely gone.
Read the books. Quit dreaming. Or living a nightmare. Live your humanity, fulfill your sentient capacity to love.
the foundation of humanity's dystopia is the male gender's utter frustration with the state of coitus and their own inability to understand how to succeed because they damn well know they should. See Explanations.
dystopia and stupour are closely related.
let me try this. dystopia is a state where one gender can be impossible to reason with because their arguments are based on shame and guilt that have created delusions, scams, nonsense, and violence. it is a representation of an animal's perspective that remains in a mad human mind. where did the male nonsense begin? why does it base its existence in deceptions? where did the desire for deception begin? i should probably be more subtle and convey the message in a more ardent and precise form. but, as i explain elsewhere in today's posts, there's a reason. If you watch closely, you can watch the madness grow over a lifetime in a man from the point of puberty.
whoa! a whole new way to look at it.
we have been trying to approximate a human since the first sentient thought slapped us silly. we've sensed the whole all along. we just never applied more than our minds to the issue. the heart never really became seriously engaged on the part of one gender. in fact, for the male gender the heart and mind became hobbled by that which was hidden.
It all comes down to root cause and initial conditions as we emerged into our sentient state.
I don't know that I care to explain further. I think someone cognizant, with an open mind, that has read through this site regarding how humanity attains its sentient state in full, since none of the crap that we have tried for millennia have moved the needle at all, should be able to put the pieces together without further help.
This belongs here as the conclusion to all of the questions I asked.
Windows
Speaking of incantations, oracles, serenity, and love...
The eyes through the heart
On the way to the soul
The life to restart
From mere pieces to whole
Speaks of the relative meanings of things
In utter frustration, I lost all the world
Impatient to sense all the loving unfurled
The dimwitted fear of the loving-less beast
All due to the fear that they can't make the feast
So, on I continue, still frustrations roam
To skip to the time when the heart knows its home
The loving begins with the tug on heartstrings
Awaiting the day, if it's only to feel
Explosion of loving, at last, become real
In the next lifetime the love will anneal;
Substantial as heart, to the loving I kneel
Impatiently waiting for all to wake up
To fill all of life from a lovingly cup
The human complete with the craft and the style
Of the love that transcends all the heart all the while
In glancing denials as we peer through the fog
Putting on airs of Pavlovian Dog
What's wrong with this picture that's glued to the screen
The love interrupted, the bout intervened
The loving corrupted with men in denial
The passion disrupted, the loving on trial
No pill is required, only sentience graced
With loving transformed and the hating erased
The frustration holds and impatience resounds
To think it requiring another full round
Another full lifetime for love to be found
The proof of the case is, in fact, all around
The fear of the failure has held us all bound
Sweep aside the conflicts and excuses
They're on the train that rides with the abuses
A juggernaut that leads to more the same
The crafted clown that's dripping in the rain
Late 2024: I was right.