Where The Future Be-co-me-s The Past

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The term "hamartia" became interesting to me today. I'm not consciously familiar with it as a word. When I began a search for it on Google to find out what it means the first link on the Results Page pointed me toward Wikipedia:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamartia

You can read the wikipedia article if you're interested or you can Google it up yourself and follow the links that delineate the term to it's range, depth, and scope if you like. To me it's related to what I call the homo sapiens species flaw. I write about it often. Maybe I'm obsessed. Fine. I get a lot of stuff done I wouldn't ordinarily just by employing a state of obsession for as long as it takes. Ti-me flies when I'm having fun. '-)

The documentary of the Monarch butterfly was shown again on PBS. I've see it several times and parts of it several more times. It's always remarkable to realize these butterflies I've been seeing since childhood make this incredible journey. They gotta be aliens. Right?

My own experience tells me that each of them has the sa-me pearl as the center of their existence as I do. It's almost understandable that they would stop the process of evolution at that stage. They got that phase of evolution figured out. Why would they wanna be homo sapiens?

I wrote a paragraph or so in a post to the Gospel of Thomas group regarding a subject I've written about quite a lot over the years. I keep writing about this topic to see if I can say what I gotta say about it mo' bettah. This time I got reminded of it by serendipitously running across an article in Wikipedia about shape shifting:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shape_shifting

What I originally wrote has quotation marks around it.

"Yes, the Gospel of Thomas is a spiritual ploy. In my opinion it's a cheat sheet for story-tellers. The Protestant Christian preachers still do this the sa-me way today. They choose stories by chapter and verse from the KJV and tell the stories charismatically to induce religious fervor and conversion, and then pass the plate or their hat to ask for donations."

They are the same stories that have been utilized for thousands of years, and told by the same sort of story-tellers in different times for the same reason. Money. Why would it not be? It's the way they made a living. Other people were professional memorizers who sold their wares to scribes who wrote out what they memorized and they both made a living that way. Maybe an early version of the National Enquirer.

In the ancient days the wandering story-tellers were the only entertainment the rural villages had. The story-tellers had regular circuits they followed where they exercised territorial imperative, and had murderous fights with other wandering story-tellers who invaded their stomping grounds. It worked about the same way as the fights over hunting grounds.

"As far as shape-shifting is concerned, my entire philosophy is based on my remembering vision, and all of it was about shape shifting that depended on imitation, mimicry, and modeling the other. Nowadays, it's called evolution. No blame. Reaching back for earlier incarnations to reproduce them in the specious present requires one to abandon their current ideas of themselves."

I seem to have written the last line dozens of times in the last year or so. Previously, I used a lot more words to say the same thing less clearly. There is probably no useful end for me practicing how I want to utter things to people. Some of my poems from the time of my first Saturn Return are so polished they really cause some people consternation of a sort they can't disguise. That never bodes well.

The first poem I deliberately composed toward a desired end got practiced out loud for years. I set a goal for myself in reciting it. I wanted to be able to recite the entire poem in a conversational mode before my audience realized I was reciting a polished, constructed thought.

By "polished" I mean rehearsed over and over until there was no chink for an interloper to interject ridicule before the poem was completed. The male gender does not like poetry being tossed at them with their being forewarned. They gonna do something to stop you from reciting anything if they can. No blame.

Whatever it is about men that causes them to feel threatened by recitation makes it even more of a challenge to get it done before they can gather their forces. The same dynamic challenges me. I react pretty much the same way other men do when somebody tries to get over.

I'm definitely trying to get over with the way I use language. Particularly while attentive to the specious present. The eternal now. To cope with the onslaught of the future upon the status quo has required me to view the incoming as plausible, but without being convinced it's a path with heart. To stay in the flow I have to let the possibilities of the future slipstream their way around the stability of my focus.

This has a lot to do with the species flaw I write about in which the flaw is that no individual can realize it's own possibilities in real ti-me. Only as an afterthought, and thus, outside of the flow of the specious present where the future be-co-me-s the past.

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