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Showing posts from January 30, 2011

The Golden Tractate of Hermes Trismegistus #1

Even thus saith Hermes: Through long years I have not ceased to experiment, neither have I have spared any labour of mind And this science and art I have obtained by the sole inspiration of the living God, who judged fit to open them to me His servant, who has given to rational creatures the power of thinking and judging aright, forsaking none, or giving to any occasion to despair. For myself, I had never discovered this matter to anyone had it not been from fear of the day of judgment, and the perdition of my soul if I concealed it. It is a debt which I am desirous to discharge to the Faithful, as the Father of the faithful did liberally bestow it upon me. Understand ye, then, 0 Sons Of Wisdom, that the knowledge of the four elements Or the ancient philosophers was not corporally or imprudently sought after, which are through patience to be discovered, according to their causes and their occult operation. But, their operation is occult, since nothing is done excep

Connection #7 - Urraca of LeĂłn and Castile to Pope Calixtus II

Urraca, Queen of Castile and Leon (rf. 1126), by her marriage with Alfonso I. of Aragon united that crown to those of Castile and Leon, but afterwards made war on her husband and excluded him from Castile. She also quarrelled with her son and her sister, Theresa of Portugal.   Cassell's new biographical dictionary   alphonso I., king of Aragon, "the Battler," who married Urraca, daughter of Alphonso VI. (1104-1134), is sometimes counted the Vllth in the line of the kings of Leon and Castile. A passionate fighting-man (he fought twenty-nine battles against Christian or Moor), he wasjmarried to Urraca, widow of Raymond of Burgundy, a very dissolute and passionate woman. The marriage had been arranged by Alphonso VI. in 1106 to unite the two chief Christian states against the Almoravides, and to supply them with a capable military leader. But Urraca was tenacious of her right as proprietary queen and had not learnt chastity in the polygamous household of her fathe

Infinite Mall #14

The Door Everyone gets a door, the question       Is do they open and walk through it or Do they turn away, afraid the action       Will take them to dead grass and endless war END

Ruđer Bošković

The first page of figures from Theoria Philosophiæ Naturalis from 1763. Figure 1 is the force curve which received so much attention from later natural philosophers such as Joseph Priestley, Humphrey Davy, and Michael Faraday. The ordinate is force, with positive values being repulsive, and the abscissa is radial distance.    RuÄ‘er Josip Bošković (see names in other languages ; 18 May 1711 – 13 February 1787) was a theologian , physicist , astronomer , mathematician , philosopher , diplomat , poet , Jesuit , and a polymath [ 1 ] from the city of Dubrovnik in the Republic of Ragusa (today in Croatia ), who studied and lived in Italy and France

thatwhichfalls #6

Like That Which Falls From the Sky They fly like doves in the wind like leaves in the storm like tears that you rip from inside me and I've never seen something so beautiful by Supa Fox

Red, Part Eleven - a hazmat sign, burning yellow

All is gray, green and brown. Any primary colours here are sucked at by the eye: a hazmat sign, burning yellow; the silvery blue of a vacuumed sealed meal; the red of Red in a mug, steaming from heating over a fire and smelling of spices. Down here the eye is starved. We begin our treck across no-mans land today. 50,000 kilometers down ever narrowing trenches. In the early stages by small trains, later on foot. To get to the oppositions trenches will take around three years, assuming no changes in space across no-mans-land.. My squad, here more to prevent me deserting than for any military purpose, will accompany me to the real front. And there I will have to exercise my power as the Tactician and take control of the whole offensive. My squad of puppets is a mix of men and women. I won't touch the woman I've decided. After Yelena I've become aware that what I do with puppet women is rape, no matter how willing they may seem. I still think that fu

Red, Part Ten - illusory walls inverted

Even now, when Red makes it so easy to build them, we are obsessed with high places. A child's game is to build a thin skyscraper 300 meters high, then knock it down from a safe distance. I did it myself, the narrow lattice of crimson stakes swaying in the wind, then the controlled explosions at the base. It fell away from me, as planned, and I ran towards the toppling spire through the dust cloud, the gentle rumble of collapsing Red all around me. Some structures are meant to last, however. They have a purpose other than to fall. The East Atlantic Government Structure next to the old Houses of Parliament is one. The Front Observation Tower is another. Joe took me up there when the weather cleared, muttering something meeting the neighbors. The structure itself was around 400 meters high, a larger and more stable  version of my sacrificial tower. It was shaped like an air traffic control tower, a long stem with a flared control room at the top. We exite

Red, Part Nine - half burned gasoline

Joe took me to the camps to give me a feel for how the operation was run.  Perhaps the greatest initial impression was one of how haphazard it all was. It was a vast expanse of tents with unpaved paths between them. Varied tents of all sizes and configurations, some made of canvas, others from animal skin, others again from what looked like parachute material. The alleyways were filled with puppets and humans, immature puppets following the horses to scoop up great streams of shit. Small carts pulled by puppets, mixes of wood and metal, cut off One World logos occasionally visible. Some of them powered by electric motors or inefficient internal combustion engines. Under the smell of dung and half burned gasoline was the ubiquitous reek of vinegar and incense that puppets exude. As always they burned herbs to cover the smell, half aware of its offensiveness. The tiny sparkle of the flames, thousands of them everywhere one looked, lent the night a marvelous fee

Red, Part Eight - tasted like cough drops

My destination was a bare concrete platform with no building other than a phone booth. The sky was a dull metallic grey and there was a faint directionless rumble all around. A man paced up to me, appearing from the booth. He was tall and rotund with legs and arms that were so thin they seemed about to snap with each of his enthusiastic motions. As he got closer I saw watery grey eyes with long eyelashes that gave him the look of some sleepy predator. "Good morning Alan," he said. "Ready to face the dark-side of our happy society?" He took me to dinner in an otherwise deserted restaurant. The food and wine were indifferent and I couldn't help noticing that the puppet serving us had a broken leg, poorly splinted with a thin length of wood. "Pay no attention to Igor. He or she is far better off here that where I found him or her. Standing orders are that there be no medical interventions for injured puppets. There are always more where they come from."