"Let me out!" says the film star. They open the door, as if to say, go if you want. "Thou are not going, star," says star_2. "Why not?" says the star, in his characteristic inimitable cool fashion. "Because you've been down that road many times and you know exactly where it leads," says star_2. Zoom! The avenue... The star beholds it. Kinda cold sweat, huh? Seems he does not know what to do? Gulp. Guess not. They close the door. "Realax," they say. Relax as much as you can. Oh baby! What business is that? They are taking some disgusting bug out. The star is doing well. Pants shortly. Well, put yourself in his skin and relax if you can! But afterwards everything seems much better. That ugly implant. Some release is felt now, and though the presence of that black little horror doesn't want to leave the place (the stage of the back seat) at once, they quickly get over it. Gee, they must have been adept workers! Could also be because lots of labor is in store for them in the near future, as we find out as the film goes on.

Now go read something that you really love to read. (Or do something that you really love to do. Or both.) Cannot find such? It happens. In that case, you can apply to yourself Book_Use_Method_2, in short: Repeat{Got the question/problem/theme ready? Of course you got, and pre-ready it is, as it were. Repeat{Get thick book of your choice and open randomly. Let your intuition tell you where on the two pages you see you should begin. Read.}until the content and the question correspond.}until the method convinces you that your state is little better then when you began.

An ample reason to go with the book car and not down the film avenue is this: you let oyur imagination some material to transform and not let it get everything pre-prepared, as it were. Moreover, good books are easy to find while good films are not. Whatever "good" means. Technically, emotional parts of centres get active in this way (one is in them by definition when there is attention without effort, attention held by the subject of interest itself). One is feeling that everything is pretty deadly when there is not that middle part. And gues what we think? We think that in such case one is pretty dead.

We can safely assume THAT if possibility exist to say something that can drive attention from what it is all about, at least here, and, to be sure, in almost unlimited number of places elsewhere, no matter how crazy or false or malicious such possibility is, it will be actualized. Now not all such possibilities are funny, innocent joky intellectualisms for those independent and critical (and that means special sources devouring masses) and sloganisms for those who rely more on their unmistakable feeling about how things should be in human life, and that means the newspapers devouring masses. The said actualisations can go further than that, and, they DO go further than that and spoil and damgae things that would better not be spoiled or damaged.

In former case, the delusion exist that one has already made essential progress and is now, with lots of intervention from higher powers, on the way to... way to... wait, it must lead somewhere... But these questionable and numerous ones are still dangerous, because no matter how illusory their pictures about their individual development and importance, seen collectively they still produce infinite mischief. Infinite at least if one compares it to the degree to which those who effect it know about it. In the latter case also the existing threat cannot be denied.

Therefore, an efficient idea must exist about the danger itself and also of infallible ways of averting or neutralizing it: otherwise it is better to close such blogs including this one at once.

The miraculous is, and means, among other things, that such an effective idea DOES exist. That's what we have been trying to say today, along with that such an idea does not proceed from us (but is also not, as far as we are concerned, dictated by some higher power, whatever that is).

We hope you have become aware of what it is all about. It is about keeping octaves straight [as it is said by people who have heard it or read it but haven't quite get the notion, as it is evidenced by their lack of understanding how the schocks needed for that (and the rest of the work notions) are truly extraordinary or, if you will (and it wouldn't be too bad if you do), truly miraculous].

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It is asked centrally, as far as we remember, whether (1) something exists that could be said to justly call forth real, genuine, lasting appreciation & admiration, name it as you like, and (2) if it is possible to approach it, to posses it, to find way to it, name it as you like, and whether it is difficult or easy. Answers are not far, and probably sound somewhat like (1) yes! and (2) yes, VERY difficult.

And this is why we want to (1) not lose sight of what it is all about and, (2) push or draw one another nearer towards it if we possibly can. (1) will require various means and seeking and actions that range from doing nothing to divine providence, with many degrees between the extremes. (2) will also require various means that cover the whole spectre from crime (for some accentuated egos and brute-like individumus) on one end, to, with many stages in-between, divine providence on the other end.

We repeat: The miraculous provides one sort of schock and we provide another. The former is right for the work and the latter is fatal to it.

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As it was once said, and we find such exhortations touching deep vague strings in us in a strange way: it is not so difficult to follow the miraculous, it is difficult to grasp what following the miraculous means!

NOT YOU!
NOT FOR YOU, OLD WOMAN!
FOR NO KATZENDRECK OF THIS WORLD--

this
is for the young one.

Take it, quickly, the incredibly old, more-than-half-mad man says to the fair one and gives the dagger to her, in the center-of-gravity moment near the end of some rather long story which changes the flow of events in it and gives it different turn. They die soon afterwards, the young one and the lying greedy—"old"—one. In fact, the latter is killed by the former by it. Though it is said nowhere, the old man dies too, can not, need not live any longer. He has done what he had to do, comforting picture. The fourth person present, the narrator, he lives on and is being haunted and so on. It comes in his possesion and it will change the direction of events once more.

On the quote alone one could expatiate and develop very long essays and in perhaps privately one should. Maybe try finding examples from literature or movies. Definitely find your own life samples of "old" women. (To gather some pictorial material, and this is said lest inner and outer be confused.) Or Bible. It was always odd to me how old wise men came and sort of honoured new life found there (with things of seemingly not much use). Must have taken it too literally, probably. Then, find philosophic meanings and inner parallels. The whole scene speaks to the feelings, things imaginative do that. It can probably become quite fruitful when that all is connected together from the the viewpoint of potential development. If person cares to do that sincerely it will build something useful in them. Write the words down but don't put the meaning on paper, Ouspensky might say somehere. This you couldn't really do either. It has to be present in your understanding.

Happy new year, class! Stand up! Shout it furiously! Look back in anger and hiss it out at the enemy! You are burned on the stake! Prophecy it to the bishop and the soldiers! Speak it as properly as one should. Recite it cooly. Speak it out consciously. You are old man, very, very, very old. Speak it as with your last strength. You are wise and mighty! Flee from Herod and say it to the infant. Close your eyes. Say it to the ass and the ox. Look how they stare at you. You are grown up! You are bringing presents for someone. Whisper it with tenderness.

Not you.
Not for you, old woman!
Not for the katzendreck of this world.
This
is for the young one here.
Take it.

Ok, I think we may go home now, what do you say? Once again, merry holidays everybody.

Hello, Alphonse.

Comparably easy, useful exercise. The link is just to give you an idea. But, really, if you have connection to the internet, go to Google or Altavista or some other such place, switch onto search for images, type in "sphynx" for head and "great pyramid" for school and let the impressions fall on your centers without associations. Try to reconstruct three-dimensional view of the plane of Gizeh frome these photographs, or how it must have all looked when the casing was still there intact and the nose was not yet cut off. Some say there were more objects on the plane—or in the valley—some time ago...

Report when you are done. Is it possible to pour it in words? Have you noticed anything particular? What was it that you saw? Past, future, present? Truth, lies? What story does it tell? Of an idea, space, time, life or death? Were there any straight lines, curved lines? Problems, solutions? What was their number? Were they full of movement or static? Complicated or simple? Elegant or crude? Were they heavy, slow, or perhaps light and speedy? Were they threatening or winking? How did the angles change things? Did you notice any meaning 'encoded' therein? What was the intention of artists and builders who made it all? What is the quality of impressions? What is going on inside the observer? What does he think and feel? And what is he going to do about it? Is there such thing that you saw but are convinced that others, if they were made to do the same excercise, wouldn't?

It's quite tempting to give up my own similar notes but it will be much better not to try to.

_{"And God saw that it was good. However, it was not good that the man was alone. Thus from the rib of good quality was created, guess who. An then goodol' snake came and did her pretty good job. And then they had some goodol' work to do, some good way off the original place. Yyyes. And then they under the scorching sun, in the mountain region where the earth as if lifts her eternal, stony 'f...you' towards the skies, they made some goodol' killing... And in the night loving, sweaty, muscular embraces of their soft, caring wives awaited them..." You see, Alphonse. Better not try to, it's already too much, in fact. Would you, alfred, try to forget this example temporarily and, cleansed of everything, plunge into what was suggested by O. in his Great Travels the World Miracles Against To, or how was, it called. Good work, Alfred, that is, Alphonse. Well done. Great! I'm sure you can do better than me-- if you will only not be afraid to enfold your little potential in view of greater performances, which fear, some say, is the original meaning of sin.}

I asked (1) if something good existed and (2) if it could possibly be found. Then I realized that (3) these two questions are rather good start in themselves. I also said to myself that I have to write something on December 29th no matter what—regardless of the presence of so called inspiration.

Good. Why? Because it makes me think. Now much further than that it didn't go. Next good thing in order to set thinking free is to leave strict definitions and wondering whether thought can be represented in words and how—and so on and so forth—entirely out.

Next, this blog claims to be 'work' site. Good. Very good. This will keep thinking busy with the issue and not let it roam dissolutely in false freedom.

Not much choice does one have but to ask what does the Work say about it. Fragments say that it is very difficult question. It says that it is dependent on aim. Aim is further connected with personal motivation for coming here. Some examples are given, like being Christian, helping people, knowing the future, stopping wars, acquiring self-mastery. The latter, acquiring control over oneself, G. said, is the best formulation of an aim.

Now this is just so much quoting and no thought. Still, there's very remarkable spot in the New Model where it says that man finds what he looks for. If man looks for good he will find it because there is something good in everything. In fact, this spot is in the remarkable chapter which connects the Gospels and the 'school' idea—remarkable if one considers that the Gospels don't mention 'school', at least not as central idea, and neither does theology. Now school is state, and Holy Writ is church, school is science and the rest, and Holy Writ is religion. No, says O., Gospels are 'school' book. Now this immedietely takes Gospels out of the usual garbage and does not spare the school, doing the same with it. Remarkable, but not exactly advantage for the reader who will be probably made to begin from scratch. Necessary, though, because nobody doubts that the Gospels and the school are definitely worth to be redeemed from centuries of uselesness and abuse.

Christ is the headmaster. The year's plan is Lord's Prayer. Teachers are few and pupils are many. Holy Spirit is the good in everything. Strangely enough, the distinction is made between headmaster and his task. You can calumniate headmaster and somehow get away with it but you pay dearly if you go against the school and its mission. Let somebody say "headmaster is stinky inane retard" but don't let anybody say "what he teaches or stands for is rubbish". That would be denying the good that is there and so cut the person concerned from it. (The first slander is of course not something good but still much 'better' than the second.)

Quite apart from that high environment, this is something interesting. There is certain person but what that person says is something different from that person. It can e.g. damage that person. Now what makes Christ what he is is also what comes out of his mouth. What makes pupil pupil is his ears which can hear.

"What is this year's balance? My comrades in the school-work: this year was total failure. It is my responsibility and mainly your fault. Yes, you screwed it up, almost entirely, and next year you better find good reasons why my precious time should be wasted on you. One thing you keep in mind as workers in education, let nobody come to me whinning how that boy is lazy or how that girl lacks curiosity or how that class just wouldn't learn. Something is wrong with you yourself in such cases. The tales about how today's youth lacks natural inclination to explore and study you may go whisper to somebody else's ears, certainly not mine and those of your own learned colleagues. Precious authority that you are! Do you want to inspire them with police methods to respect you and beat the joy of learning into them with punishments or are you here to teach them fear of God and encourage them to question you and help one another? Out of my Father's school you have made bumblebee fashion commerce sewing store and money exhange office!

By the way, lest some of you should think it being top secret: the lowest preparatory pupil in this institution has by now figured out everything that was said plus thing or two in addition, subtracted on the other side those visions that only you can behold.

But now the damage's done. We have to face the fact. Tommorow you are personally invited to my office and no one will leave before clear signs will indicate that each one of you has very good understanding of the reasons behind your failure."

The head of the school is certainly not hindered in telling an unpleasant truth by fear of not appearing sufficiently generous or broad-minded before people.

The opening paragraph from Conscience:

In most casees in ordinary language, the word consciousness is used as an equivalent to the word intelligence (in the sense of the mind activity), or as an alternative for it. In reality, consciusness is a particular kind of 'awareness' in man, awareness of himself, awareness of who he is, what he feels or thinks, or where he is at the moment.

If the devils of the imagination can be converted into something good? Obviously. They are the devils that often go to and fight on the side of the barbarians after they have been thoroughly trained in military arts under imperial flag (and the reverse).

So let us start with a good question and let us employ them to answer.

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The question is the problem. "Ah so. I must become tough. I must cooperate, coordinate in evaluate. I must draw sword and use buckler and shoot poisonous and fiery arrows. The aim is worth it. And when I will have reached the highest possible level that is possible at this time I will have discovered that the very change that was produced has deprived me of the aim and robbed me of the last chance that was there as a promise & potential at the beginning."

Broad is the way that leads to destruction.

So the questions is: "Really, I don't seem to understand-know-be anything anymore." It's not an indifferent question, and if it is yours you know what kind of question it is.

Unsigned Devil (with a dreamiy look turned aside and upwards, recites):
Now, the answer is: everything is precisely the way it should be. A part of you that you are not conscious of, but is more conscious than 'you', and which 'absence' from your ordinary consciousness probably 'enables' your very personal existence, no, enables it for sure, for we are now in world where imagination is reality, must had made a deal in the past, no, did make a deal. A deal with the Higher Powers. This self was shown an aim, so majestic, so overwhelming, so true, so beautiful, that he wanted to pay the price for reaching it. "Okay," says the self (recites Unsigned Devil), leaning towards the horizon vaguely, "okay. Tie 'em up, those e'ents, and chain me to 'em. 't is worth it." And everything happened as the self wanted. Now this part complains but partself wanted it this way. Becuase 't is worth it (concludes Unsigned Devil).

Unsigned Devil (recites, less sleepy and even lively):
Now let us imagine people who somehow gained the higher ability to remember or partly remember what is the trouble, and the trouble is, invariably, what one cannot see, and the above background is largely unseen. Not imagine, I say, for such must surely live among us. Not that they must, but they do live.

These people, I fancy, just don't know what it means: to give up. They just NEVER give up. They are going to make it and they'll make it. Keyword: goodwill.

Whatever it is that radiates from such a human being is in fact superhuman. The mere presence of such a one ligthens your burden and inspires you with strength and hope. (I know it sounds like sentimentall Adventure of Dr. Fyornhoff Willasnovich von Strudelkiller. I don't like how 'strength and hope' sound myself but there is just no better way. The objection, though, is erased by the intention simply to put down facts rather than to sound well. And, of course, there's another category of objections not even worth responding to, for very obvious reasons visible to anybody except to those who make them.)

The problem is that there are schools which say "we'll teach you how to cook" and "we'll teach you to play trumpet" but I've never seen a school which says "we'll make you into a sun", a school of real ability.

I speak foolishly but it is your fault.

The Devil is now sufficiently joyful and animated. His eyes are sparkling with warm expression. I fancy he thinks he is St. Paul or somethin'.