Water without drowning

I’m starting a new series. Actually I’m reworking some stories that I’d already written called Open 24 hrs. This could be a slow process and I’ll probably mix in some other visual work as I put them out there. On my other sight I talked aboutg dog days. I’m certainly feeling down recently. Too many appointments. With my doctor, dentist, eye doctor. Too many bills. My wife going through a bad spell at work. And general malais. Plus feeling sorry for oneself. I gotta lose weight. Drink more water. Without drowning.

Who dies alone

We are the social animal who dies alone. Descartes was wrong. It is not that we doubt our own existence. It is that we cannot forget it. It is so clear to us that we fall prey to the illusion that no one else exists. That the world is our dream. There is a huge gulf between the one and the all. Between me and the universe. And as we grow older we become aware that even our physical being is part of that universe. And so we sink deeper into the black hole that is our consciousness. Until it disappears.  And then…

A World Inside A World

Jack is a world inside a world. A dream inside a dream. Einstein inside Newton. Hemingway inside Aristophanes. A noun inside a verb. An idea inside an acorn. It is the knot that we call consciousness.

Pain will wake them up

Although Jack is considered a paradise, there is a cost to pay. People often get lost. Wandering around the planet in a kind of stupor. Passing through villages. Schoolyards filled with children. Parking lots filled with lovers. Not seeing anyone. As if they were blind. And at the same time calling out for help. Which has initiated a national debate. About mercy killing. Some want the freedom to go up to these poor souls and put a bullet into their brain. Others argue that they should be tortured first. In the hope that pain will wake them up.

Jack – the cost of sadness

Every man on Jack is a fool. Of no more importance than the moth. The grey one. Who flies into the flame. Here so briefly. And then. Blown out. And yet, does the universe speak? Does it even dare to reply? When he stands up. And asks why. Does it even show its face. In the face of so much. Sadness.

Jack – Airflight

Before your flight to Jack, you are given a shot. Which puts you out. Then you are put in a box. The boxes roll along a treadmill and are packed into the airplane in  one of the dozens of dresser drawers. Like socks and underwear. Upon arrival you are taken out of the airplane still asleep. You are bathed. Your clothes are changed. And you are placed in the departure lounge where a special gas is released. Upon awakening all the passengers feel alert and lively and complaining about the food.

Zzzzzen

I tried emptying my mind of all thoughts. (Stereotype of meditation) To relax. To reach some form of zen. It seems impossible. On Jack, if you empty your mind, existence disappears.

Time on Jack

On Jack you can choose the time period that you wish to live in. Like a deck of cards dealt face up. You chose the hand that interests you. Most people return to the time in their lives when they landed on Jack. The present. It feels like home.

Monsters on Jack

Death is just a membrane away. And what then? Heaven or oblivion? Perhaps oblivion is hell but you’d have to be conscious. That would appear to be a contradiction. So there is consciousness or nothing. Conscious of what? On the other hand oblivion is hard to believe in. ‘Is that all there is?’ (Peggy Lee) What was the point of being here if there’s nothing else. (Tangent: unless all of this is an accident. And the universe has a sense of humor.) Terror, monsters from the deep scenarios are created. Anything is better than nothing. Of course people have their faith. But what does faith matter unless what you believe is the reality we live in? Someone tells me ‘we’ll find out, won’t we?’ And that’s the point. Maybe not.

Jack – Aging

Aging

Aging on the planet Jack always come as a form of drowning. Drowning in wind. Lung cancer. Drowning in water. Alcoholism. Drowning in dirt. Self-pity. Drowning in light. Pride. Old age is always accompanied by panic. The panic to live. The panic to grasp something firm. Dry land. To become young again. And the panic lasts forever . And then… nothing. It is always ugly. And final.