size part II

Part II

concrete thing
word
thought
emotion
thought-emotion circulation
behavior
concrete thing
word
thought

size part I

Part I
Single Cell or Protist

amoeba: oozes a pseudopod into an unknown direction, senses something harmful, retracts, then oozes a pseudopod in a different direction; finds a bountiful living space with food.

paramecium: propels forward it's directional tubular body with paddling cilia, rams something inedible, hot, cold, or harmful, reverses; finds a bountiful living space with food or dies.

Protist Colony or Many-Celled
volvox: propelled by flagellum, tails that whip, 'sees' with light sensitive cells at the front of the 'colony ball', made of different cells - all connected by a protoplasmic thread - from the back of the 'colony-ball', which have longer steering flagellum; only reproduces by individual cell mitosis and only consumes by individual cell permeability, which are of several different types, but finds bountiful living space by use of 'seeing' cells co-operating/co-dependence with propelling cells.

Larger Protist Types
hypothetical paramecium: same as paramecium, but made of organelles which are similar to single cells; compared to volvox are more like a many-celled organism because the cells are all different but refer to one 'overhead' nucleus, like a brain.

"We are grateful to the Washington Post, The New York Times, Time Magazine and other great publications whose directors have attended our meetings and respected their promises of discretion for almost forty years. It would have been impossible for us to develop our plan for the world if we had been subjected to the lights of publicity during those years. But, the world is now more sophisticated and prepared to march towards a world government. The supranational sovereignty of an intellectual elite and world bankers is surely preferable to the national auto-determination practiced in past centuries."

David Rockefeller Baden-Baden, Germany 1991

Disturbing and Brief look at a Timeline that should make you suspicious

J. Edgar Hoover, ex-FBI director on the New World Order conspiracy: 

"The individual is handicapped by coming face-to-face with a conspiracy so monstrous he cannot believe it exists." 

George H.W. Bush's comment: "If the American people knew what we have done, they would string us up from the lamp posts."

November 11, 1918 ---The end of World War I, after signing the Armistice at the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month.

1933 -- The Shape of Things to Come by H.G. Wells is published. Wells predicts a second world war around 1940, originating from a German-Polish dispute. After 1945 there would be an increasing lack of public safety in "criminally infected" areas. The plan for the "Modern World-State" would succeed on its third attempt (about 1980), and come out of something that occurred in Basra, Iraq

September 11, 1941 -- Construction officially began at the Pentagon. 60 years later to the day, the Pentagon was to be attacked on the fateful September 11, 2001.

November 22, 1963 -- President Kennedy is assassinated on November 22, 1963. He was killed according to the occult number signature of eleven [11]. He was killed in the 11th month, on the 22nd day (11 x 2). He was also killed in the Masonic Dealey Plaza, the most powerful secret society in the world today to whom the number 11 is extremely important. 

September 11, 1972 -- The world was introduced to terrorism at the 1972 Munich Olympic Games. There were 11 Israeli athletes killed. Exactly 29  years (2+9 =11) after this attack, another more despicable horror occurred - The 9/11 terrorist attacks on the WTC.

September 11, 1973 -- Chilean President Salvador Allende is killed in a brutal military coup led by General Augusto Pinochet. Henry Kissinger was strongly implicated in this attack, and if he were to ever stand trial in an International Court, it is likely we would be charged with masterminding this coup and ordering the assassination of Allende. Henry Kissinger was in charge of the 9/11 investigation. Why?

September 11, 1990 -- President Bush calls the Gulf War an opportunity for the New World Order.

September 11, 2001 -- Eleven years to the day after President Bush [Senior] delivers his speech to Congress entitled Toward a New World Order, and 1 year and 1 day after the official birth of the New World Order, "terrorists" attack and destroy the World Trade Center and severely damage the Pentagon.

October 11, 2001 -- Tom Brokaw announces the world has formed into the New World Order.

October 26, 2001 -- President Bush signs legislation into law that gives Federal Government dictatorial powers and severely -- if not fatally -- erodes individual liberties and rights.

March 20, 2003 -- US starts invasion of Iraq, exactly 555 days after September 11, 2001. The start of WWIII?

March 11, 2004 -- Madrid, Spain. Exactly 911 days after Sept. 11th, 2001, over 200 people are killed and thousands are injured when deadly simultaneous attacks are launched on several trains in "retaliation" for the involvement of Spanish troops in the occupation of Iraq.

poem inspired by a message left on my facebook wall

if gary larson had facebook he would enjoy it.
he would look at his profile and laugh.
he would type things on people's walls that were border line insulting and yet remain unseen in physical form.
gary larson would like facebook because he could still be very fat and eat junk food out of plastic wrappings but have the full social dexterity of visiting all his 'friend's' profiles.
all of the pictures he is tagged in would be taken by himself though. he would be the definition of a 'loser'.
gary larson would be the wittiest facebooker in the whole world. he would make comics about his friends's 'identities' being dependent on what they show themselves doing in their 'photos' section. he would make a comic where a person oblivious to 'dog porn' being a choice of 'favorite movies', secretly entered in their profile by their snickering pet dog, while they are shown outside mowing the lawn with an old fashioned mower that doesn't use gasoline. he would tag himself in the comic as the person oblivious to his pet dog editing his profile page.
the significance of creating the image of gary larson with a facebook account is that gary larson would probably use facebook in a way that it was never intended to be used. for that reason both facebook and gary larson will make it into the encyclopedia.

Silence

A man is never without silence. Modern sensory depriving chambers lifting the weights of gravity and erasing the clamors of life cannot mute the thoughts racing through a man's head. In bed traffic whooshes by in the city. Crickets chirp in the country. Wind howls against the window. Refrigerators hum patiently with its power supply. Silence simply does not exist.

And what if you think you found silence. What is that silence saying?

I turned again in bed, disgusted by the voice in my head. Go to sleep it said over and over. I began to focus on my breathing. The simple rise and collapse of the lungs was natural and peaceful, like watching trees sway in the breeze. That should do it, I thought. Soon I was distracted. Breathing was a task now, a game. Could I breathe in sync with my sacked partner? I found it extremely difficult. There were too many inconsistencies. I was always slowing down or catching up. Frustrated, I turned, and turned again. I looked at her sleeping face. I might as well have been looking at myself. The image was so familiar. I didn't know everything about her, but I felt so akin to this woman. 

As I watched her sleeping face, it occurred to me that she could just as easily be watching me, and when she should wake it would just seem a funny dream.

Later with my back turned mind elsewhere, she made a sound: one of question, so I listened, and she made another sound: one of affirmation. I wondered what question did her dream pose? What answer could she give herself? The thought that only I would remember this exchange made me a bit lonely.

Later I wondered if she was listening to me. Did her sleeping mind intercept the thoughts that raced from mine? I did a voodoo test. Think bad thoughts and let her body react. To my horror, she did! Bad thought #1, her leg would twitch. Bad thought #2, a toe would wriggle. Bad thought #3, a murmur and a moan.

I turned away disgusted. My God, I'm horrible. Go to sleep. Shut Up! Hush.

BROOKLYN II (maybe rough)

I was wrong to say Brooklyn was boring. The idea of a flood is still interesting - it always is. I have seen more of Brooklyn now and I have not been shocked. Things have happened that have been exciting. They have been small things though. One of them was going to Flatbush Avenue to rent DVDs. Flatbush avenue has more apartment buildings. Some of them are nice and some have graffiti on them and don't look that nice. They have ugly steel doors and signs on the front of them that say, 'no gambling or playing dice, no loitering.' People acting rude in the grocery store and not acknowledging each other's presence by moving out of the way when someone needed to get between aisles have vacant looks in their eyes. There were no white people on Flatbush and I wasn't afraid. I was afraid of me because I was the only white person, what did they think of me? When I was in Blockbuster I felt safe, except for a dog that a couple had on a leash. The dog lurched at me with its lips stretched back, showing it's teeth and salivating mouth. I rented horror movies and rode my skateboard home. The ride was about a mile and a half. It didn't go that fast because the sidewalks are divided by large cracks and the roads are too narrow for both cars and myself.

On certain days of the week I am woken up by a very loud garbage truck. This happens hours before I need to wake up. On Thursday nights a man slowly goes through all of the recycling cans on our street, making very loud noises with the bottles and cans. I can hear conversations coming from apartments next door or downstairs very clearly. This make me nervous. What do they hear of my life?

The one time I have gone out, locally, in Brooklyn, I heard a story about a liquor from China or somewhere that had a cobra (hood extended) inside the bottle. The drink was very potent. Most of the people in this bar smoked. You are not aloud to smoke in bars in New York. Apparently, the usual bartender, who wasn't there, touts a rifle, stroking it between his drink orders.

Traveling has also been an inconvenience. On three or four nights of one particular week, it took me two hours to get home. The trains have a tendency of not showing up and you feel like you are trapped in a dungeon. If you fall asleep you might end up on the ground with things missing from your pockets or your bag. Out of inexperience I have been to parts of Brooklyn I never intended to go, although, only underground. All I wanted to do was get to my bed and lay in it, turn on my water in my bathroom, open my refrigerator, turn on my computer.

The cable guy, who came yesterday, was also disturbing. He didn't look disturbing and he was nice, and the way he talked made me feel comfortable. After him being there for ten minutes I noticed what was awkward and disturbing about him. He was very sloppy with his work. He clipped cables and sent shards of the wires flying. He tossed the old cables aside and they stayed there until after he left. The things he did and the places he went in the apartment seemed to turn up dust. He tripped over every chair, and when he made the turns through the hallways, he seemed to lose his balance and knock into the doors and walls and door frames. He called the woman who he talked to at his headquarters 'sweetheart' and he sat on my roommate's bed while he worked with something on the remote. When he left, everything worked, but I had to clean up after him. The result of this was that I have a stable internet connection. Before, I had been stealing wireless signals that seemed to blow away with the wind.

The internet has become a big deal recently. It stages major interactions between people of valuable friendship. Months go by and the internet harbors my most significant expressions. I use the internet at work for most of my eight hours. My increased time with the internet has distilled things out of my mind. I have spoken things and had ideas I feel I would not have had otherwise. These things are opinions, beliefs, ideals etc. that I don't considered correctly labeled by those words, but will probably be attached to them from a further vantage point or a later date in time. I have been recounting things very literally on the internet. It is not like I have had large complex ideas that the internet helps me 'boil down' or ascertain. There are just many small comments, pleasure, conversations, and 'lessons' that take place. I am not sure what the exact tendencies or what the existential nature of the internet is that induces this hitherto unknown honesty about things. I seem to run into conflict about things that I like or things that I, and I alone, am interested in. When there is someone interested in what I am interested in, then I usually discover, after a time, that there are different things that this person does like that I don't and our assimilation ends there. It does not make me completely unique to like a certain book on GoodReads, for instance, but it does make me an individual to like certain books and dislike others, until I have a unique character of books that is completely unlike anyone else's. This 'cloud' of the internet has seemed to accumulate since I've lived in Brooklyn; although, I am not sure it began here, and I am not sure it matters that I am here, exactly, for it to have formed.

At times my brain feels completely sure of itself. It sees where things are going to end up before they get there. Other times, it feels confused, as if it has changed drastically from what it originally was. I like certain things that I didn't like before and if someone doesn't like the same thing, I think how easily I could have been that person and lived in a different place like them and ended up liking the things they like. This is all due to the internet, which has accumulated it's large cloud in Brooklyn, and has become the opposite of boring. However, the things I like become less significant. Logically - this has nothing to do with how my brain has changed - I discover that I need to like things only on a particular level. I like a certain book by Lydia Davis because it is written with very clear sentences. Most books are written with clear and consistent sentences otherwise, but this book talked about life and the things she was experiencing in a way that I think were very appropriate for the sentences. Having read the book, I'm not sure I like to think in similar sentences since I've read this book or if that's the best way to process life. If it's the first reason, then sometimes I am annoyed I think that I am a person that likes books at all and feel confused by people who really like baseball or working in television because that seems cooler. However, what I do like about baseball and people who work in television are the interesting sentences that they sometimes say. So, I think it is just that I like language at this point and I'd like to improve at using it. The level at which I like things is in it's relationship to language. If something is sustainable in it's language - I know this reasoning is not 'sustainable' in it's singular existence in this paragraph alone - then I like it. This is all due to the part of Brooklyn that is not boring to me.

Since I have been able to choose things that are more like me, because of the internet, I end up choosing things that other people who like language in a way that I do. This may change at some point. It will probably change if I move or am in a serious relationship or get a different job or the environment changes drastically. Having chosen these things, I have created myself in a way that is different from what I was just a few month before, which was a person different from a few months before that. I write as if I have read these things that I 'like'. This effects my everyday life too, the way I talk to people, the thoughts I have that make me happy or sad or whatever. I have put myself inside of myself. I am becoming myself more completely, distilling. This is very interesting for me. I ostentatiously relate this to a city being flooded, so that I'm not getting off on just myself - could happen to everyone that lives in a place with a name.