RUDIMENTS

RUDIMENTS, pt. 240 Making Cars I learned to juggle valuations. That sounds like a trendy thing to do, now, but back in 1963, it wasn't done  -  especially, I guess I should say, in the bowels of a boy's seminary. Catholic doctrine proclaimed things to be one way, and that's that. No deviation. It soon became apparent to me that they were wrong; very wrong, in their dead-reckoning by stars that no longer existed. Like starlight, all those ancient and tribal meanings and lines of thought were still in thrall to light that was far off and old, and had originated many, many, years before. It probably reached us a little bit off-course, and, for sure, out of breath and out of meaning. If time bends things, as it surely does, than the merits of each unknowing moment  which came to us was being  misinterpreted and misunderstand. And passed on to us, in that erroneous state, as doctrine, and belief and reality. Those are

RUDIMENTS, pt. 239 Making Cars How many layers deep is a normal life? I often wondered about that too. I couldn't use myself as a guide, I figured, because I never felt myself normal. First off, and technically, I'd been deemed dead and came back, when hit by that train. So I had a bias towards the other-side, having had a glimpse (It's really nothing more than roomfuls of different-aged people doing endless crossword  puzzles from these enormous books  and each puzzle being done is made up of clues from that individual's  own life, and some of the answers are apparent while others aren't. There are some really startled expressions going on when these spirit/people, as in a big, boring library, find some shock or surprise over what a clue is getting at for an answer. It was pretty cool. The other thing that was weird was, in all these rooms, there  were no rest-rooms and no sort of dining areas or foods available.

RUDIMENTS, pt. 238 Making Cars I wanted to be a philosopher too; not much of a category  -  Philosophy. And certainly a strange line of work. Without real application, outwardly, except for publication and academics. In Elmira College my philosophy guy was John McLaughlin. There was also a jazz-guitarist name of large renown then, with his 'Mahavishnu Orchestra,' but no connection. It was just funny to see the overlap of names. McLaughlin held philosophy classes and really not much ever got done except endless talk. In thinking about it, what else could be, really, and what else was 'Philosophy' about?  Talk. History of Philosophy, that was one thing; there's a whole medley of historic personages and schools of theory and all, to go through. But this wasn't exactly that. This was more just long talk. We'd skirmish and try to rattle one other, pirouetting around without disclaimers, and land-bombing whatev