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When things happen, many parts come together – countless to those who dare figure out and succumb. We are sailors on boats of uncertainty. We take them as ships. It’s not a choice either. Life is when thoughts replicate and crystallize in realms of experience. You and I, in something as random as pure chance, see destinies more desperate than ourselves. It’s love.

When things happen, parts come together. I should always be more desperate for you.

Enya: Theme (X-Files)

#evidence #elixir #pattern recognition #fall '06—fall '07 #winter '12/'13 #summer '13

Engorged, and large, like a serpent I am: I crave to grave in each pore of your skin. A finger on your belly spot, I rest in your lap. A drop on you that I see, I am luminous in its radiant glow. My brown meat crowned on your sun-lit thighs, there is a flood of fire I feel – a rally of questions that we do not have an answer to. What should happen? What will become of us? What will we do? I am inside, and outside of you now. You have eyes like daggers dipped in honey. I slip in between.

Enya: Storms in Africa (Maiden of Mysteries Remix)

Image source: © M. Khalaf 2012, © Lucas Duret

#where molecules boil—metaphors melt #asclepius #shadow and act #pilgrim of desire #temple of need #word—herb—knife #5th century BC—300 BC #fall '12 #spring '13

A bird song, up above on top of a sunlit canopy at dawn, breaks through the murky and mundane. The lights spill down, the swell of life kisses the spell of silence. The earth is brooding rich. The night is buried blind. The decay is dust. The mist is everywhere. The rain forest observes.

Enya: Adiemus

Image source: Planet Earth [8] Jungles (David Attenborough ’06)

#sanctuary #consilience #south-east asia #monsoon #summer '87 #late 90's—early 00's #summer '12 #summer '13

There is no such thing as a baby—meaning that if you set out to describe a baby, you will find you are describing a baby and someone. A baby cannot exist alone but is essentially part of a relationship.

– Through Paediatrics (1952/1958): D. W. Winnicott

Enya: Boadicea

Image source: Life [10] Primates (David Attenborough ‘09)

#mitochondrial eve #holding #artworks change nothing #joy and disaster #summer/fall '07—summer/fall '08 #summer—winter '09 #fall/winter '12 #spring '13

I mean, you could talk about me maybe. But nobody could say that it was me. I could be anybody. I think in times like these the less said the better. If something had happened and we were survivors and we met on the road then we’d have something to talk about. But we’re not. So we dont.

I’ve not seen a fire in a long time, that’s all. I live like an animal. You dont want to know the things I’ve eaten. When I saw that boy I thought that I had died. Where men cant live.. It’s better to be alone. Things will be better when everybody’s gone.

– The Road: Cormac McCarthy (p. 71-72)

Image source: Simulated Supernova Detonation

#unspeakable #the bandaged place #pandora #summer—winter '09/'10 #spring—fall '10 #winter '11/'12—spring '12 #summer '12—summer '13

Visit Original Link

Faiz Ahmed Faiz

Image: Texas Medical Center ‘07

#first impressions #failure—not an option #enchantress #4 am mornings #summer '05 #spring '07 #summer/fall '08 #winter '12/'13

For instance? Well, for instance, what it means to be a man. In a city. In a century. In transition. In a mass. Transformed by science. Under organized power. Subject to tremendous controls. In a condition caused by mechanization. After the late failure of radical hopes. As megatons of water shape organisms on the ocean floor. As tides polish stones. As winds hollow cliffs.. You—you yourself are a child of this mass.. or else. There, (I), thought (I), since you ask for the instance, is the way it runs.

– Herzog (1964): Saul Bellow (random quotes from a select 2014 reading list)

Enya: Secret Love (Extended Remix)

Image source: Pyramidal Rat Neuron, NYC Flickr—Tweet Geodensity

#clouds with body lines #bones brains vessels and faces #how can it be and you not #summer '08 #winter '12—'13 #summer '13

A mist screams through some corridors at a run-down health facility at midnight – a mist, rainbow red. Pangs of silence are wheeled across a rural order of relentless pain, where finite lives and mortal dreams become white sheets and grim lights. A nocturnal tug between death and disease unfolds in desire – a reality, on each side of the hurt divide. The skin acts out, the serpent hides within – it’s happening. For as long as it’s happening, they say here, it’s alive.

In slits and steel, silver skill and slain solitude, life is poetic – an undoing, an addiction. A glass of light – manual, intuitive – the antithesis of malaise and malady. On shoulders of grit and grime, where breath and blood are one and more, the metaphor lives and molecule despairs: an incision metamorphs. The creeping bleed sprouts, and slips to float in gory, glistening, and beautiful.

#from me to you #healing #iVillage #syncytium #sharper than steel #pulse in a dull glass bell #late 80's/early 90's #spring/summer '08 #winter '11 #spring/summer '13

The blackness he woke to on those nights was sightless and impenetrable. A blackness to hurt your ears with listening. Often he had to get up. No sound but the wind in the bare and blackened trees. He rose and stood tottering in that cold autistic dark with his arms outheld for balance while the vestibular calculations in his skull cranked out their reckonings. Eyes closed, arms oaring. Something nameless in the night, lode or matrix. To which he and the stars were common satellite.. the great pendulum in its rotunda scribing through the long day movements of the universe of which you may say it knows nothing and yet know it must.

– The Road: Cormac McCarthy (p. 10)

Image source: Life (David Attenborough)

#citalopram/fluoxetine #valproate/risperidone #zolpidem/propranolol #orpheus #blue brain project #connectome/brain activity map #‘03/‘04—‘07 #winter ‘09/‘10 #spring ‘10—winter ‘11/‘12 #spring ‘13

Enya: Storms in Africa

#nature/nurture #cognitive psychology #violence/pinker #cuneiform #computational linguistics #pronouns/pennebaker #verbal transmigration/rushdie #4th millennium BC #early 90's #'09 #'10 #'12—'13

Enya: Theme (Techno)

#word repetition errors/usage #singularity #reality is malleable #'09 #'10 #'13

I have to watch you all the time, the boy said. I know. If you break little promises, you’ll break big ones. That’s what you said. I know. But I wont.

All the trees in the world are going to fall sooner or later. But not on us.

– The Road: Cormac McCarthy (p. 22-23)

#carboniferous #biofuel #genomics #ocean watermarks #life synthesis #craig venter #400—300 mya #late 90's #'07—'09 #summer '12 #summer '13

He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you.

– Beyond Good and Evil: Nietzsche

#madhouse wall #bedtime consolations of philosophy #reality distortion field #'09 #'13

fuckyeahdroz-blog

A young Mehmet Oz and Lisa Oz.

mateenyasir

Our digits eat our brains faster than we count – we can count. Richer than we imagine, that place is – pixelated – where connected heresies are closer to guile and farther from truth. To last longer than we can, we all write a story: some write better than others.

All fact is fickle than fiction. ‘We don’t die of darkness, we die of cold.’ – Mehmet

I want to be all slick and chizzle sizzle before the drizzle arrives.

#vessels #science #hunter-gatherer #paleo-diet #cave wisdom #all things older than man #'08 #'13

In his dream she was sick and he cared for her. The dream bore the look of sacrifice but he thought differently. He did not take care of her and she died alone somewhere in the dark and there is no other dream nor other waking world and there is no other tale to tell.

– The Road: McCarthy (page 21)

#cancer #brain #illness #NY #apocalypse #'07—'08 #'10—'11 #'12

‘She suddenly caught herself. “Misanthrope” is someone who dislikes everybody, not just men. And they certainly had a word for someone who hates women: “misogynist.” But.. had somehow neglected to coin a word for the dislike of men. They were almost entirely men themselves, she thought..’

They should have sent a poet. – Ellie

#ann and sagan #contact #SETI #feminism 2.0 #summer '10 #winter '13

GS Brindley, a British physiologist, musicologist, and composer, best known for his provocative demonstration before American Urological Association @ Las Vegas, 1983.

His other concrete contributions include: visual prosthesis, and bladder control in paraplegics. He also invented a musical instrument 'the logical bassoon' (never marketed), besides composing music for wind instruments.

He was the doctoral mentor of David Marr (computational theories of vision). What a man.

#erectile dysfunction #bassoon #visual computation

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