Saturday, December 28, 2002

Mr. Brain is singing a song tonight. I don't know the tune. But the words go, The Mycenium, like the Lycenium, With voices deep, from long ago. I wonder if understanding the mycenium is a step towards understanding artificial intelligence beyond any binary or hexadecimal or quantam quantification. The input and communication required to identify and establish stimuli from so many different input boggles my MIND. I've often thought of god in the context of a huge matrix, connecting all things, and I wonder if the essense of collective conciousness isn't some huge, underlying fungus, connecting all the universe. It makes me think of hyponoia, the underlying meaning, the Greek. Ah, mushrooms. So tasty. So profound. I think psilosybin (sp?) might make me weep with realizations beyond the taste, the touch, of breathing air alone. Right now, on the more mundane level, I'm a little freaked out by the entire waiter crush thing. Not that it should mean so much anyway. But it's just foreign to me, this attraction from women who do not know me, but, I guess, assume me to be so many things. Mainly, it seems, when they are even the slightest bit inebriated. I tried to explain to the one women I'm actually attracted to in the mix why I was so reluctant to follow her lead, and still don't necessarily believe it's anything more than that moment of blissful content, the food, the smile, the alcohol loosing its goggles, but it's the most bizarre thing, this waiter thing, and the women who make me anything they want, and want to touch and hold and take that totem home. It's objectification on the emotional level, the child wanting feeding and holding, and the physical, being able to watch me, servile, move. While I definitely like it on some level, and understand that the power dynamic as a male in society makes it totally different that it would be if I were a woman, it's unnerving to have that dynamic going on with women who don't know me at all. I guess I want someone to be attracted to me, pardon the Freudian terms, superego to superego, not id to superego, or id to id.  Crazy, but fun. And who knows. I should probably stop thinking about it so much and stop being so damn ethical and rational about it, but I'm just generally not that into the comeons, I guess largely because I consider what the next step, or next morning brings - and that's something that I feel I'm pretty much over, since my first year of college. Fun like a bag of cheetos. Jamie was asking me today if I'd had the converstation with myself over whether or not to return to Sqwires out loud in the car. And it's funny that with these things I may as well have. After rationalizing away her and the event as drunken flirtation, it dawned on me that I was actually attacted to this person, and it shouldn't matter so much, in that case, trying to figure out what's going on for her. Kinda presumptious, actually. So we'll see or not see, but it doesn't change that fact I'm a little bit pinching myself still, just to find someone so sexy who's also so damn cool. Gives me a glimmer of hope, in the romantic morass, if nothing else. Dad did another watershed sermon, for me, Xmas eve. He preached on the idea of tabernacle and Isaiah's radical statement that God dwelt both above and within us. Prophets and sages and philosophers of old were amazing, trying to articulate concepts of Godhood and creation and physics without any context other than their own minds. Which may have given their messages more pertinence, greater truth - closer to the mystical source.       2:33:49 AM