STS Orion Crusader here, Polarizatunity.

[Dekalb_Blues]

~
OR, Arbeit-Macht-Frei meets Alles-ist-Liebe in the Final Grand Polaric-Principle Celebrity Death-Match*



In a parallel reality I suffer a terrible fate: I'm a man-soul haplessly and hopelessly trapped in 
the voluptuous gynoid android robot-body of Björk, forever making out with another robot-Björk/me! 
Oh the horror of it, the grim unceasing day-in-and-day-out grind of forever adoringly making love... 
reciprocally with ourself as it were... but ourself as, um, big-time-sensuality Björkian fembots... surrounded by endlessly-
overseeing tune-up machines attending to my -- our -- every intimate need... so... hmmm.... yeah, so, ain't it awful -- 
and, uh... then I... rather, we -- um -- hang on a minute. . . ! 

...You know, come to think of it, it's not the worst incarnative gig in the universe, not by a long shot!** 

I'm kinda diggin' it, actually...

-- By golly, that Earthling flesh-creature from the Land of Ice, you know, the warbling wetware prototype -- she's right!  

       All is full of love!!  

          ... If you know how to surrender to its way of being, in whatever situation you may find yourself in.

               It's there; the real question of the age is: where in God's name are you? 

(Meanwhile, not to worry, all is right, whichever path you take. They join up, you know, further on up the road. Of course, the
intermediate stretches of divergent roadway -- until such time -- have their little... idiosyncracies.)
https://www.bring4th.org/forums/showthre...3#pid88823


I like to think (and
the sooner the better!)
of a cybernetic meadow
where mammals and computers
live together in mutually
programming harmony
like pure water
touching clear sky. 


     I like to think
     (right now, please!)
     of a cybernetic forest
     filled with pines and electronics
     where deer stroll peacefully
     past computers
     as if they were flowers
     with spinning blossoms. 


          I like to think
          (it has to be!)
          of a cybernetic ecology
          where we are free of our labors
          and joined back to nature,
          returned to our mammal
          brothers and sisters,
          and all watched over
          by machines of loving grace.


---- Richard Brautigan,  originally from his mimeographed poem-collection All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace (SF: Communication Co., 1967), 
which is also this poem's title. Later published in The Pill vs. the Springhill Mine Disaster (SF: Four Seasons Fndtn., 1968)
http://en.bookfi.net/book/1376070

It's tough enough facing the challenge of the Choice as an emerging consciousness trapped within an organic mortal human body...
even if you're a gifted poet. 

From Brautigan's bio:
In 1984, at age 49, Richard Brautigan had recently moved to Bolinas, California, where he was living alone in a large, old house. 
He died of a self-inflicted .44 Magnum gunshot wound to the head. The exact date of his death is unknown, and his decomposed 
body was found by Robert Yench, a private investigator, on October 25, 1984. The body was found on the living room floor, in front 
of a large window that looked out over the Pacific Ocean. It is speculated that Brautigan may have ended his life over a month earlier, 
on September 14, 1984, after talking to former girlfriend Marcia Clay on the telephone. Brautigan was survived by his parents, both 
ex-wives, and his daughter Ianthe. He has one grandchild named Elizabeth, who was born about two years after his death. 

He left a suicide note that simply read: "Messy, isn't it?" 
 
Brautigan once wrote, "All of us have a place in history. Mine is clouds." 




This FNORD-filled post (which is arguably so wrong on many levels) is an STS public-service message 
brought to you with cunning malice by the
  
☞ RESISTANCE IS FUTILE! HARVEST IS NOW!! ☜





 

Something to keep you kids busy 'til Catnarok:
http://www.hellokids.com/c_28322/colorin...ian-god-ra





-------------------------------------------------------------------

* The eternal symbiotic struggle of the cosmic superorganismic factions' exemplars.
  ...That is very far.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yoi09ycU3zg

https://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/19/world...pe=article
https://www.nytimes.com/2016/12/02/world...achau.html



** Could be way, way worse -- I might find myself trapped in a human body stuck on a planet at a time of
unprecedented challenge on every existential level, in the face of which a heart-breakingly large number of my 
fellow species-members are invested in the kind of bizarre, misguided mythos manifested in the following 
stupefyingly imbecilic vid. . . thank God that sorrowfully-benighted video-planet is just a figment of my fevered, 
ever-wandering over-imagination! Trying to talk to those Earthlings would be like... talking to the bloody wall.


 

"The walls have mice, and the mice have ears..." 

---- Rabbi Levi, 3rd-c.Palestinian sage, quoting an ancient Persian proverb, multi-valently warning against
enemies appearing as friends/neutrals on the one hand whilst hinting at how soft disclosure can happen even 
in the face of the most dauntingly obdurate systemic resistance to truth.



12.26 Questioner: Thank you. Well, you spoke of Wanderers. Who are Wanderers? Where do they come from?

Ra: I am Ra. Imagine, if you will, the sands of your shores. As countless as the grains of sand are the sources of intelligent infinity. 
When a social memory complex has achieved its complete understanding of its desire, it may conclude that its desire is service to 
others with the distortion towards reaching their hand, figuratively, to any entities who call for aid. These entities whom you may call 
the Brothers and Sisters of Sorrow move towards this calling of sorrow. These entities are from all reaches of the infinite creation and 
are bound together by the desire to serve in this distortion.