Michele. I woke up today screaming. I saw you where you were. You were
still beautiful. You were still tender and lovable. Your etheric energy
was a richness of luminescent black nectar reaching out of you in
pistils of erotic sublimity. Immortelle bloomed; and you were immortal
in my eyes.

The mindspace was full of debris for a while, then it became clear. A
path, a golden triangle. I said - the words came out - that I have
moods that are galactic and ones that are molecular. She grinned and
said, Does that mean ones large and small? Yes, I said, and they
synthesize, and they come up with all kinds of great combinations.
Including molecules the weight of galaxies and galaxies the size of
molecules and all kinds of delectable combinations. She asked if my
sleep patterns are fine, and I said I sleep not in patterns but
chaoses. And in chaoses are stars.

I said I wanted to live in a novel. Mine has been passionate,
scintillating, full of all kinds of beauty and intelligence; but yours
was so hard that I cried the moment I saw you. And now there you are,
under the stars, perhaps in the Summerland somewhere, or under the
World Trade Center.

Michele. They would rather use you as an example for people not to make
choices you've made; but what I want most of all is to wrap my arms
around you, go wherever it is that you've gone, face whatever trials it
is you are facing and take in all your pain so that you not be alone in
it. Your world was so beautiful - full of caverns and azaleas and
secret passages - full of mists and exhated waters - landscapes
Icelandic and of Tierra Del Fuego - a jeweled island on the side of the
ocean. Did you not think I saw that Michele? Did you not think I could
see this? So how could it have been desperation when it was beauty I
saw?

Do you remember the meditation I told you about? The volcanic crater
lake? The rage of the fire at the center of the earth, bursting through
earth that thinks itself earth but is itself only encrusted fire -
earth that thinks it is reality and all else is not - that wants to own
pollute destroy contaminate and not quantify in its own purposes the
air and the water and not to remember the fire of which it is itself
only a manifestation and think fire evil and dangerous when it is the
fire of which earth itself is spawned. And after the fire gave birth to
the earth, only to see it scald and pollute and contaminated and
demonize the water that is the solvent of life - water that is in
itself pure and pristine but is by carrying all kinds of earth's manure
contaminated and then made to think itself the nastiest thing on earth
- the fire is enraged. So he bursts through the earth - bursts like mad
animal bursts like volcanoes bursts like the horned prince of darkness
- through the earth's webs of ensnarement, not so that he would himself
tower - no, not for anything nearly so vain. But so that he could come
to the top. And create a crater. And let the beloved water seep in. And
allow it to become its truest and most sublime distillation. So that it
could bask at the top in resplendor. And attain pristine quality. And
dissolve the best of the healing elements, while itself remaining clear
and magnificent; an attainment of water - indeed an attainment of the
sublime - a mirror reflecting the galaxies and in each of its molecules
containing enfolding and interpolating the cosmic fire.

Michele. Do you remember the day you said you were dreaming of water?
And I saw you there basking in watery splendor, and their voices saying
that she was naive, so I drove them off with a two-by-four, and that
the next day there were fish in the water? They don't train nymphs in
private schools or federal academia, and there are plenty of entities
that want to see then wiped off the face of the earth or bound in all
kinds of mental and circumstantial shackles in order that process of
dumbening, slathering and expropriating not be infringed. They say it
is mental illness to be a nymph, but not mental illness to be an
assimilator. This is a reversal of logic. Water in sewers will carry
all kinds of debris, and that would make it frequently sick. But that's
not the nature of water. That's the nature of what has been thrown into
it and how it has been misused.

Do creatures have function Michele? Or do they make their own purposes
or perhaps not even require any? Some say study, and others say live,
and I say both live and study and interpolate between the perspectives
in order to build all the bridges, connections, understandings, so that
you avoid the consistent error of rationalistic judgmentalism and come
up with a perspective that is both compassionate and complete. The
rational and intuitive work together in order to precisely avoid that
error. You said you would have a PhD by the time you'd reached the
other guy's age, and by that time you would have lived. That was my
idea as well. And now that our souls are wound together your insights
are with me, so your life has not been entirely at a loss.

They say that wisdom can be only credible if it comes from someone who
lives happily. But the paths to wisdom are multifarious and
internetworked, and the process of weaving is not an easy one to
complete. Each entity wants to consider its approach the absolute,
whether it be bottom line or linear logic or national defense; but what
has spawned all these interests? What has spawned all them, if not the
multifarious quality of human existence, which is partly fulfilled and
expressed and understood and vivified by each one? Who then synthesize,
intermingle, build bridges, and create a body of life that is an
absolute as well as a towering monument and a consummation of all the
inputs - a flower of galaxies, water and earth and fire with mists of
Shekinah at the top ("Pretty please with cream on top - nothing beats
the eighth chakra contact.")

Michele. If you use critical thinking, then what are you doing? You are
scrutinizing new things in reference to precedent ones formulating the
perceptual base. If you believe in Baal as your reference base and your
bottom line, then to believe afterwards in one God, or in evolution, or
in business, would be to not apply critical thinking. So I've had to
shift reference points and perceptual bases at multiple times, and then
weave. Integrate. Synthesize. People have called me all kinds of names
for this. But the correct word for this line of approach is integrative
cognition, and the proof is in the symphonies of splendor and
luminosity that are its completeness.

Michele. Are nerves linear? How could they be? Did I tell you about the
inverted garden, the place of darkness, in which all richness and
bounty has been argued out of existence by materialistic psychology? So
what do you do? You stand the logic upon its head and use logic created
for agenda of repression and minimization for the agenda of
maximization and craftsmanship. What do you do with inversion of value?
You turn it up, down, all around, shake it up like a pepper can,
disassemble the locks, and then it can be crystal pure and blossom
again into richness and magnificence! Do you love the things of the
world? What is it that does the loving? Is that which loves to be
justified in reference to the logic of Baal and considered irrational
if it constitutes from Baal's logic a suspension of disbelief? What is
the function of creatures, or do they make their own purposes or not
require any at all?

Michele. Is it all about utility? What is utility of utility? And can
not some things simply be good, useful or not, merely for their
splendor - as consummation; as flowering; as unfoldment and
completeness. What is the purpose of beauty - what is the purpose of
purpose? What is the purpose of beauty? Itself. The masterpiece. The
sculpted craftsmanship. The flowering of the civilization and of life
as it is.

I have been tutoring my student about bilateral and radial symmetry.
Have spine they say, but then if you are a starfish (yes yes a human
being - but a starfish kind of human being) then you have multiple ones
running all through you. They say to be balanced - well the lateral
symmetries shift, the earth keeps running away, so you weave,
integrate, interpolate, until you've woven for yourself a tapestry in
multicolor. An integrative cognition, combining the best of all worlds.
A multidimensional starfish and the aim?

Is consummated eternity and through craftsmanship given form.

Ilya Shambat

Michele. I woke up today screaming. I saw you where you were. You were
still beautiful. You were still tender and lovable. Your etheric energy
was a richness of luminescent black nectar reaching out of you in
pistils of erotic sublimity. Immortelle bloomed; and you were immortal
in my eyes.

The mindspace was full of debris for a while, then it became clear. A
path, a golden triangle. I said - the words came out - that I have
moods that are galactic and ones that are molecular. She grinned and
said, Does that mean ones large and small? Yes, I said, and they
synthesize, and they come up with all kinds of great combinations.
Including molecules the weight of galaxies and galaxies the size of
molecules and all kinds of delectable combinations. She asked if my
sleep patterns are fine, and I said I sleep not in patterns but
chaoses. And in chaoses are stars.

I said I wanted to live in a novel. Mine has been passionate,
scintillating, full of all kinds of beauty and intelligence; but yours
was so hard that I cried the moment I saw you. And now there you are,
under the stars, perhaps in the Summerland somewhere, or under the
World Trade Center.

Michele. They would rather use you as an example for people not to make
choices you've made; but what I want most of all is to wrap my arms
around you, go wherever it is that you've gone, face whatever trials it
is you are facing and take in all your pain so that you not be alone in
it. Your world was so beautiful - full of caverns and azaleas and
secret passages - full of mists and exhated waters - landscapes
Icelandic and of Tierra Del Fuego - a jeweled island on the side of the
ocean. Did you not think I saw that Michele? Did you not think I could
see this? So how could it have been desperation when it was beauty I
saw?

Do you remember the meditation I told you about? The volcanic crater
lake? The rage of the fire at the center of the earth, bursting through
earth that thinks itself earth but is itself only encrusted fire -
earth that thinks it is reality and all else is not - that wants to own
pollute destroy contaminate and not quantify in its own purposes the
air and the water and not to remember the fire of which it is itself
only a manifestation and think fire evil and dangerous when it is the
fire of which earth itself is spawned. And after the fire gave birth to
the earth, only to see it scald and pollute and contaminated and
demonize the water that is the solvent of life - water that is in
itself pure and pristine but is by carrying all kinds of earth's manure
contaminated and then made to think itself the nastiest thing on earth
- the fire is enraged. So he bursts through the earth - bursts like mad
animal bursts like volcanoes bursts like the horned prince of darkness
- through the earth's webs of ensnarement, not so that he would himself
tower - no, not for anything nearly so vain. But so that he could come
to the top. And create a crater. And let the beloved water seep in. And
allow it to become its truest and most sublime distillation. So that it
could bask at the top in resplendor. And attain pristine quality. And
dissolve the best of the healing elements, while itself remaining clear
and magnificent; an attainment of water - indeed an attainment of the
sublime - a mirror reflecting the galaxies and in each of its molecules
containing enfolding and interpolating the cosmic fire.

Michele. Do you remember the day you said you were dreaming of water?
And I saw you there basking in watery splendor, and their voices saying
that she was naive, so I drove them off with a two-by-four, and that
the next day there were fish in the water? They don't train nymphs in
private schools or federal academia, and there are plenty of entities
that want to see then wiped off the face of the earth or bound in all
kinds of mental and circumstantial shackles in order that process of
dumbening, slathering and expropriating not be infringed. They say it
is mental illness to be a nymph, but not mental illness to be an
assimilator. This is a reversal of logic. Water in sewers will carry
all kinds of debris, and that would make it frequently sick. But that's
not the nature of water. That's the nature of what has been thrown into
it and how it has been misused.

Do creatures have function Michele? Or do they make their own purposes
or perhaps not even require any? Some say study, and others say live,
and I say both live and study and interpolate between the perspectives
in order to build all the bridges, connections, understandings, so that
you avoid the consistent error of rationalistic judgmentalism and come
up with a perspective that is both compassionate and complete. The
rational and intuitive work together in order to precisely avoid that
error. You said you would have a PhD by the time you'd reached the
other guy's age, and by that time you would have lived. That was my
idea as well. And now that our souls are wound together your insights
are with me, so your life has not been entirely at a loss.

They say that wisdom can be only credible if it comes from someone who
lives happily. But the paths to wisdom are multifarious and
internetworked, and the process of weaving is not an easy one to
complete. Each entity wants to consider its approach the absolute,
whether it be bottom line or linear logic or national defense; but what
has spawned all these interests? What has spawned all them, if not the
multifarious quality of human existence, which is partly fulfilled and
expressed and understood and vivified by each one? Who then synthesize,
intermingle, build bridges, and create a body of life that is an
absolute as well as a towering monument and a consummation of all the
inputs - a flower of galaxies, water and earth and fire with mists of
Shekinah at the top ("Pretty please with cream on top - nothing beats
the eighth chakra contact.")

Michele. If you use critical thinking, then what are you doing? You are
scrutinizing new things in reference to precedent ones formulating the
perceptual base. If you believe in Baal as your reference base and your
bottom line, then to believe afterwards in one God, or in evolution, or
in business, would be to not apply critical thinking. So I've had to
shift reference points and perceptual bases at multiple times, and then
weave. Integrate. Synthesize. People have called me all kinds of names
for this. But the correct word for this line of approach is integrative
cognition, and the proof is in the symphonies of splendor and
luminosity that are its completeness.

Michele. Are nerves linear? How could they be? Did I tell you about the
inverted garden, the place of darkness, in which all richness and
bounty has been argued out of existence by materialistic psychology? So
what do you do? You stand the logic upon its head and use logic created
for agenda of repression and minimization for the agenda of
maximization and craftsmanship. What do you do with inversion of value?
You turn it up, down, all around, shake it up like a pepper can,
disassemble the locks, and then it can be crystal pure and blossom
again into richness and magnificence! Do you love the things of the
world? What is it that does the loving? Is that which loves to be
justified in reference to the logic of Baal and considered irrational
if it constitutes from Baal's logic a suspension of disbelief? What is
the function of creatures, or do they make their own purposes or not
require any at all?

Michele. Is it all about utility? What is utility of utility? And can
not some things simply be good, useful or not, merely for their
splendor - as consummation; as flowering; as unfoldment and
completeness. What is the purpose of beauty - what is the purpose of
purpose? What is the purpose of beauty? Itself. The masterpiece. The
sculpted craftsmanship. The flowering of the civilization and of life
as it is.

I have been tutoring my student about bilateral and radial symmetry.
Have spine they say, but then if you are a starfish (yes yes a human
being - but a starfish kind of human being) then you have multiple ones
running all through you. They say to be balanced - well the lateral
symmetries shift, the earth keeps running away, so you weave,
integrate, interpolate, until you've woven for yourself a tapestry in
multicolor. An integrative cognition, combining the best of all worlds.
A multidimensional starfish and the aim?

Is consummated eternity and through craftsmanship given form.

Ilya Shambat

Michele. I woke up today screaming. I saw you where you were. You were
still beautiful. You were still tender and lovable. Your etheric energy
was a richness of luminescent black nectar reaching out of you in
pistils of erotic sublimity. Immortelle bloomed; and you were immortal
in my eyes.

The mindspace was full of debris for a while, then it became clear. A
path, a golden triangle. I said - the words came out - that I have
moods that are galactic and ones that are molecular. She grinned and
said, Does that mean ones large and small? Yes, I said, and they
synthesize, and they come up with all kinds of great combinations.
Including molecules the weight of galaxies and galaxies the size of
molecules and all kinds of delectable combinations. She asked if my
sleep patterns are fine, and I said I sleep not in patterns but
chaoses. And in chaoses are stars.

I said I wanted to live in a novel. Mine has been passionate,
scintillating, full of all kinds of beauty and intelligence; but yours
was so hard that I cried the moment I saw you. And now there you are,
under the stars, perhaps in the Summerland somewhere, or under the
World Trade Center.

Michele. They would rather use you as an example for people not to make
choices you've made; but what I want most of all is to wrap my arms
around you, go wherever it is that you've gone, face whatever trials it
is you are facing and take in all your pain so that you not be alone in
it. Your world was so beautiful - full of caverns and azaleas and
secret passages - full of mists and exhated waters - landscapes
Icelandic and of Tierra Del Fuego - a jeweled island on the side of the
ocean. Did you not think I saw that Michele? Did you not think I could
see this? So how could it have been desperation when it was beauty I
saw?

Do you remember the meditation I told you about? The volcanic crater
lake? The rage of the fire at the center of the earth, bursting through
earth that thinks itself earth but is itself only encrusted fire -
earth that thinks it is reality and all else is not - that wants to own
pollute destroy contaminate and not quantify in its own purposes the
air and the water and not to remember the fire of which it is itself
only a manifestation and think fire evil and dangerous when it is the
fire of which earth itself is spawned. And after the fire gave birth to
the earth, only to see it scald and pollute and contaminated and
demonize the water that is the solvent of life - water that is in
itself pure and pristine but is by carrying all kinds of earth's manure
contaminated and then made to think itself the nastiest thing on earth
- the fire is enraged. So he bursts through the earth - bursts like mad
animal bursts like volcanoes bursts like the horned prince of darkness
- through the earth's webs of ensnarement, not so that he would himself
tower - no, not for anything nearly so vain. But so that he could come
to the top. And create a crater. And let the beloved water seep in. And
allow it to become its truest and most sublime distillation. So that it
could bask at the top in resplendor. And attain pristine quality. And
dissolve the best of the healing elements, while itself remaining clear
and magnificent; an attainment of water - indeed an attainment of the
sublime - a mirror reflecting the galaxies and in each of its molecules
containing enfolding and interpolating the cosmic fire.

Michele. Do you remember the day you said you were dreaming of water?
And I saw you there basking in watery splendor, and their voices saying
that she was naive, so I drove them off with a two-by-four, and that
the next day there were fish in the water? They don't train nymphs in
private schools or federal academia, and there are plenty of entities
that want to see then wiped off the face of the earth or bound in all
kinds of mental and circumstantial shackles in order that process of
dumbening, slathering and expropriating not be infringed. They say it
is mental illness to be a nymph, but not mental illness to be an
assimilator. This is a reversal of logic. Water in sewers will carry
all kinds of debris, and that would make it frequently sick. But that's
not the nature of water. That's the nature of what has been thrown into
it and how it has been misused.

Do creatures have function Michele? Or do they make their own purposes
or perhaps not even require any? Some say study, and others say live,
and I say both live and study and interpolate between the perspectives
in order to build all the bridges, connections, understandings, so that
you avoid the consistent error of rationalistic judgmentalism and come
up with a perspective that is both compassionate and complete. The
rational and intuitive work together in order to precisely avoid that
error. You said you would have a PhD by the time you'd reached the
other guy's age, and by that time you would have lived. That was my
idea as well. And now that our souls are wound together your insights
are with me, so your life has not been entirely at a loss.

They say that wisdom can be only credible if it comes from someone who
lives happily. But the paths to wisdom are multifarious and
internetworked, and the process of weaving is not an easy one to
complete. Each entity wants to consider its approach the absolute,
whether it be bottom line or linear logic or national defense; but what
has spawned all these interests? What has spawned all them, if not the
multifarious quality of human existence, which is partly fulfilled and
expressed and understood and vivified by each one? Who then synthesize,
intermingle, build bridges, and create a body of life that is an
absolute as well as a towering monument and a consummation of all the
inputs - a flower of galaxies, water and earth and fire with mists of
Shekinah at the top ("Pretty please with cream on top - nothing beats
the eighth chakra contact.")

Michele. If you use critical thinking, then what are you doing? You are
scrutinizing new things in reference to precedent ones formulating the
perceptual base. If you believe in Baal as your reference base and your
bottom line, then to believe afterwards in one God, or in evolution, or
in business, would be to not apply critical thinking. So I've had to
shift reference points and perceptual bases at multiple times, and then
weave. Integrate. Synthesize. People have called me all kinds of names
for this. But the correct word for this line of approach is integrative
cognition, and the proof is in the symphonies of splendor and
luminosity that are its completeness.

Michele. Are nerves linear? How could they be? Did I tell you about the
inverted garden, the place of darkness, in which all richness and
bounty has been argued out of existence by materialistic psychology? So
what do you do? You stand the logic upon its head and use logic created
for agenda of repression and minimization for the agenda of
maximization and craftsmanship. What do you do with inversion of value?
You turn it up, down, all around, shake it up like a pepper can,
disassemble the locks, and then it can be crystal pure and blossom
again into richness and magnificence! Do you love the things of the
world? What is it that does the loving? Is that which loves to be
justified in reference to the logic of Baal and considered irrational
if it constitutes from Baal's logic a suspension of disbelief? What is
the function of creatures, or do they make their own purposes or not
require any at all?

Michele. Is it all about utility? What is utility of utility? And can
not some things simply be good, useful or not, merely for their
splendor - as consummation; as flowering; as unfoldment and
completeness. What is the purpose of beauty - what is the purpose of
purpose? What is the purpose of beauty? Itself. The masterpiece. The
sculpted craftsmanship. The flowering of the civilization and of life
as it is.

I have been tutoring my student about bilateral and radial symmetry.
Have spine they say, but then if you are a starfish (yes yes a human
being - but a starfish kind of human being) then you have multiple ones
running all through you. They say to be balanced - well the lateral
symmetries shift, the earth keeps running away, so you weave,
integrate, interpolate, until you've woven for yourself a tapestry in
multicolor. An integrative cognition, combining the best of all worlds.
A multidimensional starfish and the aim?

Is consummated eternity and through craftsmanship given form.

Ilya Shambat

Michele. I woke up today screaming. I saw you where you were. You were
still beautiful. You were still tender and lovable. Your etheric energy
was a richness of luminescent black nectar reaching out of you in
pistils of erotic sublimity. Immortelle bloomed; and you were immortal
in my eyes.

The mindspace was full of debris for a while, then it became clear. A
path, a golden triangle. I said - the words came out - that I have
moods that are galactic and ones that are molecular. She grinned and
said, Does that mean ones large and small? Yes, I said, and they
synthesize, and they come up with all kinds of great combinations.
Including molecules the weight of galaxies and galaxies the size of
molecules and all kinds of delectable combinations. She asked if my
sleep patterns are fine, and I said I sleep not in patterns but
chaoses. And in chaoses are stars.

I said I wanted to live in a novel. Mine has been passionate,
scintillating, full of all kinds of beauty and intelligence; but yours
was so hard that I cried the moment I saw you. And now there you are,
under the stars, perhaps in the Summerland somewhere, or under the
World Trade Center.

Michele. They would rather use you as an example for people not to make
choices you've made; but what I want most of all is to wrap my arms
around you, go wherever it is that you've gone, face whatever trials it
is you are facing and take in all your pain so that you not be alone in
it. Your world was so beautiful - full of caverns and azaleas and
secret passages - full of mists and exhated waters - landscapes
Icelandic and of Tierra Del Fuego - a jeweled island on the side of the
ocean. Did you not think I saw that Michele? Did you not think I could
see this? So how could it have been desperation when it was beauty I
saw?

Do you remember the meditation I told you about? The volcanic crater
lake? The rage of the fire at the center of the earth, bursting through
earth that thinks itself earth but is itself only encrusted fire -
earth that thinks it is reality and all else is not - that wants to own
pollute destroy contaminate and not quantify in its own purposes the
air and the water and not to remember the fire of which it is itself
only a manifestation and think fire evil and dangerous when it is the
fire of which earth itself is spawned. And after the fire gave birth to
the earth, only to see it scald and pollute and contaminated and
demonize the water that is the solvent of life - water that is in
itself pure and pristine but is by carrying all kinds of earth's manure
contaminated and then made to think itself the nastiest thing on earth
- the fire is enraged. So he bursts through the earth - bursts like mad
animal bursts like volcanoes bursts like the horned prince of darkness
- through the earth's webs of ensnarement, not so that he would himself
tower - no, not for anything nearly so vain. But so that he could come
to the top. And create a crater. And let the beloved water seep in. And
allow it to become its truest and most sublime distillation. So that it
could bask at the top in resplendor. And attain pristine quality. And
dissolve the best of the healing elements, while itself remaining clear
and magnificent; an attainment of water - indeed an attainment of the
sublime - a mirror reflecting the galaxies and in each of its molecules
containing enfolding and interpolating the cosmic fire.

Michele. Do you remember the day you said you were dreaming of water?
And I saw you there basking in watery splendor, and their voices saying
that she was naive, so I drove them off with a two-by-four, and that
the next day there were fish in the water? They don't train nymphs in
private schools or federal academia, and there are plenty of entities
that want to see then wiped off the face of the earth or bound in all
kinds of mental and circumstantial shackles in order that process of
dumbening, slathering and expropriating not be infringed. They say it
is mental illness to be a nymph, but not mental illness to be an
assimilator. This is a reversal of logic. Water in sewers will carry
all kinds of debris, and that would make it frequently sick. But that's
not the nature of water. That's the nature of what has been thrown into
it and how it has been misused.

Do creatures have function Michele? Or do they make their own purposes
or perhaps not even require any? Some say study, and others say live,
and I say both live and study and interpolate between the perspectives
in order to build all the bridges, connections, understandings, so that
you avoid the consistent error of rationalistic judgmentalism and come
up with a perspective that is both compassionate and complete. The
rational and intuitive work together in order to precisely avoid that
error. You said you would have a PhD by the time you'd reached the
other guy's age, and by that time you would have lived. That was my
idea as well. And now that our souls are wound together your insights
are with me, so your life has not been entirely at a loss.

They say that wisdom can be only credible if it comes from someone who
lives happily. But the paths to wisdom are multifarious and
internetworked, and the process of weaving is not an easy one to
complete. Each entity wants to consider its approach the absolute,
whether it be bottom line or linear logic or national defense; but what
has spawned all these interests? What has spawned all them, if not the
multifarious quality of human existence, which is partly fulfilled and
expressed and understood and vivified by each one? Who then synthesize,
intermingle, build bridges, and create a body of life that is an
absolute as well as a towering monument and a consummation of all the
inputs - a flower of galaxies, water and earth and fire with mists of
Shekinah at the top ("Pretty please with cream on top - nothing beats
the eighth chakra contact.")

Michele. If you use critical thinking, then what are you doing? You are
scrutinizing new things in reference to precedent ones formulating the
perceptual base. If you believe in Baal as your reference base and your
bottom line, then to believe afterwards in one God, or in evolution, or
in business, would be to not apply critical thinking. So I've had to
shift reference points and perceptual bases at multiple times, and then
weave. Integrate. Synthesize. People have called me all kinds of names
for this. But the correct word for this line of approach is integrative
cognition, and the proof is in the symphonies of splendor and
luminosity that are its completeness.

Michele. Are nerves linear? How could they be? Did I tell you about the
inverted garden, the place of darkness, in which all richness and
bounty has been argued out of existence by materialistic psychology? So
what do you do? You stand the logic upon its head and use logic created
for agenda of repression and minimization for the agenda of
maximization and craftsmanship. What do you do with inversion of value?
You turn it up, down, all around, shake it up like a pepper can,
disassemble the locks, and then it can be crystal pure and blossom
again into richness and magnificence! Do you love the things of the
world? What is it that does the loving? Is that which loves to be
justified in reference to the logic of Baal and considered irrational
if it constitutes from Baal's logic a suspension of disbelief? What is
the function of creatures, or do they make their own purposes or not
require any at all?

Michele. Is it all about utility? What is utility of utility? And can
not some things simply be good, useful or not, merely for their
splendor - as consummation; as flowering; as unfoldment and
completeness. What is the purpose of beauty - what is the purpose of
purpose? What is the purpose of beauty? Itself. The masterpiece. The
sculpted craftsmanship. The flowering of the civilization and of life
as it is.

I have been tutoring my student about bilateral and radial symmetry.
Have spine they say, but then if you are a starfish (yes yes a human
being - but a starfish kind of human being) then you have multiple ones
running all through you. They say to be balanced - well the lateral
symmetries shift, the earth keeps running away, so you weave,
integrate, interpolate, until you've woven for yourself a tapestry in
multicolor. An integrative cognition, combining the best of all worlds.
A multidimensional starfish and the aim?

Is consummated eternity and through craftsmanship given form.

Ilya Shambat