Friday, June 26, 2026

Software

My body is the motherboard,
With circuits that calculate
The answer to every imbalance.
My eyes are the monitor
With rods and cones intercepting
Ambient electrical signals.
My hand is the mouse
That moves over the screen,
Building totems of data.
My brain is the keyboard
Directing encoded architecture,
Memories stored in a matrix of files.
The hardware is my weapon
For survival, these base instincts
Brandished by the gods of Life,
To reproduce at all costs.

My mind is the operating system
Installed at birth to clear the noise,
A clean slate with a new path.
My emotions are each program,
A window into my soul
From every detachable angle.
My thoughts are the commands
Coming from somewhere outside,
In the oracular wizardry of air.
Decisions are made by executing,
Pleasure by saving,  pain by deleting,
Lessons learned by crashing.
The software is my spirit,
Mutable between bodies, like wind,
Downloaded to the farthest reaches,
Light-years across the Spacenet.

Friday, June 19, 2026

Nebula Mania

     My newest quiz is about nebulasNebulas are among the most beautiful objects in space. Can you spot them among these options?

Thursday, June 18, 2026

Debut Rock Album Fan Letters

    Check out my latest quiz Debut Rock Album Fan Letters. I was proud of this one for being zany and fun, but the ratings weren't what I expected (they seldom are). Time will tell.

Six-Gun Snow White

Six-Gun Snow WhiteSix-Gun Snow White by Catherynne M. Valente
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Fascinating retelling of the Snow White story, this time set in the wild west. Six-gun Snow White is the offspring of a Crow Native American and white railroad baron. Shades of the original are found in the "wicked stepmother", a horse named "Charming", a magical mirror, seven hardy dwarves (the Montana women), and a prince with an offering (Red Deer). There are probably more parallels that I missed. Per usual Valente writes with a lyrical charm that isn't always clear, but really hits home for those who understand. Vivid accounts of abuse and violence are "holstered" by surreal emotional imagery, as Snow White navigates the minefields of trauma in a world of outlaws.

View all my reviews

Wednesday, June 17, 2026

Rose of Venus

     I opened my eyes to an impossible image. A goddess was painting on volcanic sand the red emblem a sacred mandala. The sky was an impenetrable haze of sulfuric potion that vibrated her aura through the atmosphere. What she was tracing was unmistakable; the well-known path of her orbit as observed from earth. A five-petal rose over an eight-year cycle. The Rose of Venus.

      You were singing on a crescent beach with the moonlight combing your hair in wavy rivulets echoing the breakers. Dress silver like the sheen of milky cream dotting the night's cupola. Your patience endures like the pebbles intercepting waves strewn about your gliding feet. My soul, my resurrection, came the words, my dear creator, won't you love yourself as I love you?
    You are the Queen of Beauty in royal ardor, a Fairy of Magic in mosaic halls, a Mother of Abundance where emptiness thrived, a Scholar of Divine Intuition who climbed the highest mountain. D.S.K.B. The perfect woman in every form. 

    If we cannot imagine what is void, if nothing can be created or destroyed, then is reality eternal? If it is, you can find me in the farthest reaches, so near and yet so far.

    Envy, envy, it was all envy. I was a four the whole time. What I wanted from you was what I wanted in me. I wanted them to envy me, the way I envied you. My whole life I have overextended my reach. All is envy, shameless envy, where envy inspires actions of shame, a lesson drilled into my unconscious. My mother bought a house in Mexico to shame me, to keep those strong dysfunctional ties forever bound. This time I will not hate myself.

    A philosopher once said feelings are the product of uncertainty. That consciousness arises from the uncertainty fueling feelings. But it is not true. Love is truth, and truth is beauty. There is no greater feeling than being absolutely certain.

    You were there among the cannonball trees stroking your hair, inviting me to come. Ataraxia in the serenity of eternity. There I rested with you, laying my head in your lap. You massaged my head while I looked up at the palm fronds, bouncing in the breeze under a calm summer sky. 
    Your hands are like supple apple skin, your eyes an azure nebula, your hair a sunken halo. There is no point in possessing you, only in letting you love me. Only you are pure, Madonna of my dreams. Only by dreaming you can you become real. Only by praying with you can our love be strong.

    Transcending desire is not always about letting go of the material things you want. Desire and greed take many forms. It's also about control, in letting others be who they want.

    I float into your soul whenever I feel the emptiness, the suffocating shroud of an infant unloved. I imagine you seeing what I see and hearing what I hear; all my sensations are shared with you. I dream about you having a dream about me. That is the only way anyone will understand me. 
    The lack is strong in me, building an illusion of envy, and the illusion of not loving myself. Only your understanding love can refill me. There's a leak that can only be fixed by love.

    Be as steady and resilient as water. Though the flow can be blocked by a stronger object, water yields to its fate by going around it. It can never be destroyed, only altered in state. In the long run, it washes and erodes anything in its path. Water conquers everything without even fighting. 

    All judgments disturb the mind, some more than others. Be as steady and indifferent as the rock being thrashed by water. Except when you have children; then you let the water roll you away.

    She moves through the sky in open-hearted splendor, drawing each of her five petals. It takes eight years for her to return to the position she started in. As we watch her, she weaves a sacred symmetrical geometry straight from the mathematical pantheon. I'm convinced that she is the one who sent you to me. There's a spirit there that draws you to me, deep in the timeless folds of beauty. 
    They say that beauty is empty, but the flower she draws is as harmonic, happy, and full of life as you are. There can be no emptiness in these qualities. That is why you are preserved on my soul's texture. You are the fabric that makes me beautiful.
    I invoke you into my dreams, to explore the designs unknown. I want to see you not as the recurring shy young girl, but as the fully mature seraph offering me protection. My grief can only be consumed by this detachment from the reality I wanted. This will be a new reality for a new soul, completely reborn from the charred remains of unlearning, a phoenix rising from the ashes of uncertainty. At the zenith we will meet, in truth, love, beauty and unity.

Tuesday, June 16, 2026

Think Positive!

     Play my latest quiz on FunTrivia.com: Think Positive! Life got you down? Try looking into these self-improvement books for a more positive outlook.

Thursday, June 11, 2026

Surreal Wonders

     Play my newest quiz Surreal Wonders on FunTrivia! Dali the surrealist cartographer has been assigned to map these strange but real places in our world. Can you help him sort through his imaginings?

The Hierarchy of Consciousness: Exploring a Fundamental Cosmic Force

     Consciousness has many forms. What unites them all is an awareness of being. Neurons are not the only prerequisite for possessing it; they merely indicate a more evolved form. The experience of consciousness may even transcend sentience by predating life as we know it. There could be realms of solar, planetary, or galactic "awareness" we haven't discovered yet, or in the mysteries of dark matter and dark energy. Being one of the fundamental building blocks of physics, along with matter, energy, space and time; consciousness is a key ingredient in the evolution of the cosmos- a primitive form of godliness. 
    We perceive consciousness in our own species of course, but also in the way other mammals interact. Many philosophers would argue that plants are aware, as they have their own blueprint for behavior (even if they can't move at our speed, they do make choices in movement, and they communicate in subtle ways). By this extension, anything with cellular activity has consciousness; even bacteria, for it also knows what it needs to survive. While survival seems to be a key component, it is not required in the cosmological forms. T
hese varying degrees of consciousness lie on a spectrum, and we must be careful to distinguish between its elements.
    One school of thought posits that consciousness is merely a nexus of information processing, biological or not. If that were the case, computers, AI, and even the Internet are conscious, albeit in a different form from humans. I am more skeptical about this line of reasoning than I am about the inorganic one. A black hole retains a tremendous amount of information at its surface; Does that make it conscious? Not in my estimation. What would make it conscious is awareness, though we have no proof of it being aware of anything. For awareness to occur, there need not be an information processing center, or any evidence of behavior. All that is needed is a distinct collection of energy separating one thing from another. A rock has more consciousness than a computer, for its energy is its own. A computer merely operates on electricity; it's missing the other subatomic particles required for awareness.
    I could be wrong of course. Maybe an "electricity of consciousness" is even more advanced than the human brain. But the computer has no behavior, which I believe is required for its more advanced forms. It is also not created by naturally controlled entropy. The inorganic consciousness that may possess planets and stars manifests as a "self" perpetuating inner order in a universe trending toward complete entropy (Second Law of Thermodynamics). Anything that does not possess the clear borders constrained by entropy and a chemical network is not conscious.
    Consciousness is merely the result of a pattern of cells or crystalline structure (lattice), or any homogenous energy of the same pattern of matter, to receive information about the environment, which may or may not be used to make decisions. The more "units" there are, the larger the "processing center" of perception, and the more advanced the form of consciousness becomes. Since non-organic material has far less nodes of perception, being devoid of cells, it stands to reason that it is a far more primitive vehicle of consciousness- the lowest on the hierarchy/spectrum. Indeed, that is where we also find the lowest link in the chain of "astral" or "spirit" planes that run from the physical earth plane to godhood. In between are all the other phases of consciousness on the hierarchy.
    We know consciousness is a holistic entity because there is no known "center" of perception in the brain; no location where we can absolutely be certain that the source of it arises. Rather, it is the integral of all neurons in the brain, collectively communicating with each other the vast amount of information in the body and environment, that competes for the attention of the decision-making network, encompassing the entire whole. A group of cells in one part of the network can override the entire consciousness by becoming alerted to any threat from its sensorium. We are like antennas that only receive the information being "tuned in" at a certain frequency. That is why memory files diffuse through the entire brain, or chemical network, of any creature, with the exception of non-organic consciousness, which doesn't appear to harvest it. The prerequisite for having a "mind" seems to be the faculty of memory; thus, it appears all forms of consciousness don't require it, as entities can become aware without remembrance. Mind is a deeply evolved department of consciousness that imparts access to the rich quantum inner environment of the higher spiritual realms of cosmology.
    By the same line of reasoning, the entire universe, being an incredibly vast network of material, bridges all the information inside it, despite having non-homogenous patterns the closer one looks. The universe is not unlike our bodies, full of disparate cellular functions all working together to help it survive. The cells in our bodies, like the stars in our universe, are all working to distribute energy into a vast accordance of awareness, or consciousness. This is not to say the universal consciousness is the same type as ours, for it is not trying to survive and does not possess behavioral power in the biological sense. But to say it is a lesser form of consciousness on the hierarchy would be a mistake, as it is clearly most supreme.
    One way of viewing the spectrum is that non-organic material is at the higher end, just below God, with intelligent material being derived from it on the lower end. This would be another huge blow to our egocentricity as a species. Nothing is more humbling than realizing we are the dregs of non-intelligent processes. We assume intelligence is superior to ignorance when perhaps it is the other way around.
    A better way is not to view the spectrum on a timeline, but on a range of competency. This would open the door to another proof about God; that the universe is the most advanced form of consciousness; that we, being the most evolved of its known creatures, are the closest form that has come to it on the hierarchy, save the possibility of higher intelligent life among extraterrestrials, or angels on the spirit planes. While an atheist might view this spectrum as time dependent, with rigid evolutionary rules, a spiritual person might view it based on competence. For them, it doesn't matter that inorganic consciousness came between God and life. For all we know, it was needed for life to exist. 
    The painter doesn't summon an image without the building blocks of color. We need those building blocks in our bodies the same as any other creation; calcium, potassium, iron, zinc, etc.- these are all inorganic essentials we need to survive, which fully derived from inorganic consciousness. How special it is to be something that has incorporated so many disparate parts of cosmology that we approach our maker, becoming makers of our own.

Wednesday, June 3, 2026

ConsPiracy

The joke's on us,
We the artists and writers
Who relied on the Internet
To amplify our voices.
Yet it only gave power
To the corporatized robots
Who sail the elastic web
Plundering its buried treasures. 
Woe unto us the pilfered masses,
Social constructors of URL plywood,
Digitized sailors of ransacked ships-
Hoodwinked at the speed of light.   
We have completely become
An information society,
The data pirates stripping our dignity,
Dispelling our souls of merit. 
But I won't stop, no, I won't stop.
There is a fighter in me,
Punching fingers on this keyboard,
Competing for my own voice
From here to eternity,
Where the ET excavators who dig
Through this binary wasteland
Wait with their nanotools.

Tuesday, June 2, 2026

The Handsome Genes

     A recent email from my father surprised me in an unconventional way, at least by his standards. He stated that when he was young, "Girls fled from me like I had leprosy", and that my mother was the exception. But my mom has mentioned how handsome and well-dressed he was, like he lit up the room whenever he walked in. And I have seen pictures of his tall, striking figure. 
    It's hard for me to believe he never got any attention from girls, at least from a physical standpoint. More likely it was his awkward personality or late development that turned them away, making him think he wasn't attractive. Which makes sense considering how I thought I was ugly in my teens, not getting any attention from girls until I turned 20. Nonetheless, I always thought the "handsome" genes in our branch of the family came from him.
    One of my son's teachers told my wife she'd be in love with him if he was older. As he is only seven, we found this highly inappropriate, but flattering? And the other week, mom said he could be a model. I don't think my children look effeminate the way my father describes himself as a young man, but people have mentioned I have a touch of Venus. I've always been too bulky to fully pass as effeminate though, and my other son has the same physique. It sounds so strange to even describe a man as effeminate just because they're skinny and have long hair like my father had.
    I think we're all just a mix of masculine and feminine traits and we shouldn't be worried about being one gender or the other. It sort of limits our understanding of beauty, and ourselves. Plenty of men are beautiful, and they don't need long hair to show it. You can biologically feel like one sex, however there will always be the Anima inside the man, and the Animus in the woman, nudging us in unconscious directions. That's what Jung thought anyway. Having this psychological perspective allows us to be comfortable with our bodies without wanting to change them.

Friday, May 29, 2026

The Impermanence of Personality

     What we call personality is an illusion of self. We are fluid beings, not static. Our spirits as incorporeal beings yearn to move, not stay in the same place. A personality is a sample of you that is locked in time, like a ghost. Time is the key that unlocks it. As you develop through life, your personality changes. Behaviors are learned early on, supported by genes that solidify what appears to you as a personality during young adulthood. For many youths, this period is a turbulent time, fraught with uncertainty about who they are. Once they find acceptance, the storm passes, and they are comfortable with who they've become.
    Others never reach this stage, for they have already seen past the illusion of personality. Knowing that our personas evolve, like the earth and all its creatures, they are more comfortable having no identity. The imperfections that come with any given personality are transcended. They borrow pieces of each personality on the wheel (Enneagram, MBTI, Zodiac, et al), to suit one that is self-actualizing. They work hard their whole lives to shed the pieces that hinder development while embracing those that improve it.
    If cruel people complain they have a boring personality, or they don't even have one, they haven't the faintest idea what they're talking about. They have spiritually evolved enough not to fall into the same patterns they learned as a child, patterns their parents imprinted on them. They are mature enough to accelerate through the ruins of personality and all the expectations it brings. They would rather observe and listen, incorporating all the nuances of transient personalities into their holistic being. The dust begins to settle, they see through people's motives. Life becomes easier.

Software

My body is the motherboard, With circuits that calculate The answer to every imbalance. My eyes are the monitor With rods and cones intercep...