Are We All Gambling On Another Day?

I’m not sure if you know of Charles Bukowski but after reading his poem Gamblers All it got me thinking about things in life -especially my life. Here’s a copy of it below:

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Gamblers All – Poem by Charles Bukowski

sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think,
I’m not going to make it, but you laugh inside
remembering all the times you’ve felt that way, and
you walk to the bathroom, do your toilet, see that face
in the mirror, oh my oh my oh my, but you comb your hair anyway,
get into your street clothes, feed the cats, fetch the
newspaper of horror, place it on the coffee table, kiss your
wife goodbye, and then you are backing the car out into life itself,
like millions of others you enter the arena once more.

you are on the freeway threading through traffic now,
moving both towards something and towards nothing at all as you punch
the radio on and get Mozart, which is something, and you will somehow
get through the slow days and the busy days and the dull
days and the hateful days and the rare days, all both so delightful
and so disappointing because
we are all so alike and so different.

you find the turn-off, drive through the most dangerous
part of town, feel momentarily wonderful as Mozart works
his way into your brain and slides down along your bones and
out through your shoes.

it’s been a tough fight worth fighting
as we all drive along
betting on another day.

Charles Bukowski
 This poem really struck a chord in me not only for its stark reality and pragmatic philosophy about modern contemporary suburban lifestyle but also because  it changed my attitude towards my approach in living and experiencing my days. I try and keep this alive in me.
In more ways than one we are all gambling on getting through another day and if we put this in perspective then all of our worries, concerns, anxieties evaporate into a meaningless corner of social priorities based on illusions of importance.
The idea that each day could be our last is a celebration of fortune. I mean this in both the obvious  sense of fortunate to be alive and the metaphoric sense of surviving the elements of nature.
No one escapes the trials and tribulations of day to day living but to see it expressed in such simplicity and with such fresh perspective lightens the load. The stress and the discomfort become a shared and collective experience which triggers a genuine drive to see life from the vantage point of a risk taker who is forced to sucuumb to the pressures but also realise that luck plays a huge role in the fact that we are alive and empowered to think, interact, experience, observe and participate.
The poem injects an appreciation and a celebration of the life I have and having said this I am reminded of one of Einstein’s famous quotes , ” God doesn’t play dice with the  Universe !” and my response to that is ” What’s God got to do with it?”
 How do you see this poem?
Any comments, suggestions, directions, ideas, criticisms, overhauls, rejections are more than welcome……..
We are all visitors to this place and travellers through space so bouncing off one another can only improve or disprove my emotional reactions…and I really want to know what it is that I am trying to visualise and communicate with help from my comrades in life…
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A Call To Bacchus

 

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Oh to dream my desires and lose myself in these fires

To contrast my body with the selfless misery

Of so many souls trapped in a vortex of my imagery

I love the soothing, sensuality of it all

Makes me want to embrace myself to the core

Please don’t awaken me to this illusion

Allow me once more to fulfil my delusion

Too many times I have abandoned this need

To submerge myself under this creed

                                            Entangled, enhanced, enriched, embraced

Inside this cauldron of my maker’s face

A mask for pure lust on a week long trail

Give me your flesh and let me sail

Into the sunset of oblivion….

What is this thing we call Time?

Time is a strange thing……

The Oxford Dictionary defines it as ” the indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole”

The Online Free Dictionary describes it as , “a non-spatial continuum in which events occur in apparently irreversible succession from the past through the present to the future”

or 

 “an interval separating two points on this continuum; a duration…

I can remember clearly the long hot summer holidays of my youth where the endless blue skies were captured and time seemed to stand still in my memories as if the moment was like an extended pause along this “non-spatial continuum”..

yet further on down the road…………….

I can also clearly remember the pressures of time and the lack of hours in the day to fulfill my work commitments……..my days are divided into working hours and the years progress and the cultural context of my concept of time becomes my reality.

But is this the only reality of time ?

If we imagine the microscopic world  of quantum physics then the idea of time takes on a different complexion…………

Quantum World of Time

I have the imagination to reflect and consider other perspectives of time experienced by other cultures….

Take for example the Eskimo culture where the sun stays above the horizon or below the horizon for periods of up to six months at a time. For the Eskimo culture time is not a continuum of day/night cycles. Their time is measured by the number of sleeps they have. This is not easy to appreciate but important to internalise.

For many cultures in the past and the present the idea of time was and is the repetition of the cycles of the weather, the moon and the sun.  Things came and went and happened in much the same ways as we experience our bodily functions.

So what exactly is this thing we call time ?

Well, time is subjective and it is personal…the experience of time translates with a person’s social , cultural  and historical context.

Image result for time and cultureSo if time is subjective and experienced differently by different individuals in different cultures and in different periods in the history of humankind how do these experiences relate to objective time ?

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By objective time I mean the concept of time surrounding us in the universe ..

or another way to phrase it is endless time…….. 

 

How does endless time capture or contemplate our concept of personal time ?

A mathematical equation can summon an understanding of the dimensions of time.

If space is endless ; then time is endless

endless space = endless time

 To appreciate the reality of time we must dissect it with the reality of space because space and time are mutually interdependent- one cannot exist without the other.

The equation merges into an x-y axis where x is time and y is space….

So on any given point in the continuum of endless time our imprint is transcribed momentarily in the continuum of endless space.

Logic dictates that the point of dissection between these two axes is immersed in a configuration of endlessness so  hypothetically any deviation from this point renders the event of the intersection with two possible outcomes…..

Outcome 1 : The point of intersection has left an imprint in the fabric of space-time and has left a permanent legacy which is lingering and fixed in objective time so this would add material to the universe fulfilling its ever expanding process.

Outcome 2 : The point of intersection has dematerialised into an obsolete event and space-time rebounds filling in the imprint with a renewed presence.

Below are interesting lectures: One delivered by the physicist Lawrence Krauss where he attempts to explain the ever expanding universe in ways that are easy to understand and appreciate and the other by Carlo Rovelli examining the dimensions of time:

To Infinity and Beyond: The Accelerating Universe

 What is Time ? Carlo Rovelli

Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life’s coming attractions.

Albert Einstein

Any comments, suggestions, directions, ideas, criticisms, overhauls, rejections are more than welcome……..

We are all visitors to this place and travellers through space so bouncing off one another can only improve or disprove my ideas of time…and I really want to know what it is that I am trying to visualise and communicate with help my comrades in life…

The Religion We Call War !

Syria and the Civil War

Al Jazeera has posted a history of the Syrian War on its web page.

Syria’s civil war explained from the beginning

Looking at this documentary makes your blood boil with anger , looking at it makes you resent the rotten core of humanity and what we are capable of doing to each other in the name of some specious cause. In any conflict the equation is simple – you hurt me and I’ll hurt you back and so the cycle spins out of control and we sink into the dark abyss of barbaric behaviourism.

The disbelief I have in the notion that people are still clinging to some religious authority to justify or codify these events beggars belief.  Sitting back in the safety of armchair politics and surveying these cruelties I can only imagine at the desperation and lingering threats that have become daily rituals for people living in war zones. I know that the will to survival is a strong potion; however, the phenomenon of martyrdom and a secure place in an imagined afterworld is also a frightening prospect the modern world is having to contend with.

Why is it that war has been and remains such a glorified subject in our history?  in our lives? in the institutionalised pages of our collective memory? The likes of Julius Caesar, Alexander the Great, Hannibal, Genghis Khan, Napolean Bonaparte are indelibly imprinted in our shared narrative yet has anyone really questioned the logic of this adulation? Has anyone stopped to think of the senseless slaughter, the whimsical insanity that these power mongers have perpetrated on their fellow species?  Have we seriously considered the vanity and the lunacy of these individuals? in their quest for power through the killing and the maiming of their fellow comrades in life?

Why is it we devote so much social paraphernalia to the institutions of war? We have Academies and Museums devoted to war, we honor the heroes and the dead of war and we commemorate the sacrifices that war has come to symbolise in the social traditions of sovereign states. We are obsessed with war. War is the illusion of greatness in a species destined to destroy not only itself but everything and anything that stands in its way. And yet when the conflict settles and the dead are buried and gone, we rinse and repeat our worship at the gates of wars’ institutions.

War is the religion that feeds our insatiable desires to outdo one another and if we resist then, the old adage” Might is Right” creeps back and shuts down the political will to oppose.

Carl Sagan sums it up in his eloquent speech reflecting from a vantage point in space looking back at the Pale Blue Dot we call Earth when he reminds us :

From this distant vantage point, the Earth might not seem of any particular interest. But for us, it’s different. Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives.

The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there – on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

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A Humble View on a Life Unwasted

In this thing we call life I would like to document the ways I see the world and how I experience contemporary news. I understand that I do change and that my perceptions are products of my context. The winds of change will affect my context over time and it will be an interesting experiment to see how my voice transforms itself Image result for a life wastedinto a vocal instrument for responding to the world I inhabit.

Creating an online depository of these reflections might offer an interesting read and insights into the purpose and grand scheme of a life I would like to think is unwasted.

The Overtures of Time

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I look into the mirror of my memory and I see stardust. A vortex of imagery encircles my imagination and I begin to fall under the pressure of gravity. In the midst of the corner of my eye – I descend – and witness a sea of humanity. In an instant echoes of time explode into a myriad of colours. The tapestry of history is draped before me… Oh, how I long to suspend  self – righteousness, to disengage  logic and pierce the barriers shackling my existence. I need to disentangle the crusts of calcified social conditioning and open the door to reality and view a world  that is less inhibited, less influenced by the musings of wise but staid old men we are taught to esteem from ages past.

The science of conscience seeps through the cracks of reasoning and I am catapulted to a lonely summit overlooking a moral landscape struck and blinded by the thunderings of unconscionable nature. It is a cold, hard power of a frightening epiphany that ironically soothes me whilst waiting for the signatures of mortality. I live to participate in this thing we call life and I breathe to extricate this thing we call sanity….29af2-artclockeyeimage

Photons of endlessness float rhythmically in and out of the pores of flesh and a mind glimpses radiance in unison…My thoughts are incomplete – there is no other way- unable and incapable to articulate the systemic harmony experienced in this pulsating certainty we call time… a reflection and a direction mesmerised by the sun’s setting once again over and over….painting the kaleidoscope of humanity’s crimson horizon.