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oO( ) psychedelické memy ( )O๑.. ॐ ..๑O( ) psychedelic memes ( )Oo
KERRAY
[https://i.imgur.com/azx3ct6m.jpg] Pokud nemáš čas přečíst tohle záhlaví, nemá vůbec cenu pokračovat v čtení.

Co sem patří si přečtěte na nástěnce. Klidně můžete chválit či diskutovat, ale počítejte s tím, že věci, které sem nesedí, se mažou hned, a věci, které sem nesedí, ale jsou zajímavé, se taky mažou, jen o něco později - aby v archivu zůstávaly jen psychedelické memy.

Pro čtenáře
Co si o klubu pomyslí čtenář, je jen a pouze na něm. Můžou tu klidně být matoucí či provokativní věci. Můžou tu být věci, které jsou pravý opak psychedelie - a je na vás, abyste se zarazili, a řekli si - no momentík. Většinou nemá cenu brát to tu doslovně nebo dokonce hodnotit jednotlivé příspěvky - buďto mně něco osloví, nebo neosloví. Obsah je cílen na návštěvníka, který si je schopen hrát s významy a odlesky slov, je ochoten se dívat na věci ze zajímavých úhlů, aniž by to pro něj nutně znamenalo, že těmto náhledům musí věřit. A pokud by něco z obsahu pomohlo třeba jen jedinému člověku (tobě? :) k probuzení, splní svůj účel dokonale.

Do your own thinking!
Není důležité souhlasit, ale zamyslet se / zkusit si jiný úhel pohledu
Máte k tomu co říct? Vložte se do diskuze.
TLUSTEI --- 17:13:01 31.12.2010
"The total number of minds in the universe is one."

Erwin Schrodinger
KERRAY --- 15:05:14 30.12.2010
The Egg
By: Andy Weir
The Egg
http://www.galactanet.com/oneoff/theegg_mod.html

You were on your way home when you died.

It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.

And that’s when you met me.

“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”

“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.

“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”

“Yup,” I said.

“I… I died?”

“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.

You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”

“More or less,” I said.

“Are you god?” You asked.

“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”

“My kids… my wife,” you said.

“What about them?”

“Will they be all right?”

“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”

You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”

“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”

“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”

“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”

“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”

You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”

“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”

“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”

I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.

“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”

“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”

“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”

“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”

“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”

“Where you come from?” You said.

“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”

“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”

“So what’s the point of it all?”

“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”

“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.

I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”

“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”

“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”

“Just me? What about everyone else?”

“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”

You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”

“All you. Different incarnations of you.”

“Wait. I’m everyone!?”

“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.

“I’m every human being who ever lived?”

“Or who will ever live, yes.”

“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”

“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.

“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.

“And you’re the millions he killed.”

“I’m Jesus?”

“And you’re everyone who followed him.”

You fell silent.

“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”

You thought for a long time.

“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”

“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”

“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”

“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”

“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”

“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”

And I sent you on your way.

INK_FLO --- 1:36:30 30.12.2010
"Graffiti je systém a jako takovej šlape podle určitýho kíče - kódu, kterej když krekneš, tak je to tvoje. Od tý chvíle máš administrátorský práva a můžes do toho systému vstupovat, libovolně ho rozvíjet, nebo přetvářet a měnit. U mě se tenhle průlom odehrál téměř ze dne na den, najednou jsem to prostě měl. Předtím jsem byl jakoby někým zvenku, kdo byl očarován a chtěl se stát writerem, dřel jsem se a úporně pachtil, a teď to ze mě s naprostou lehkostí padalo samo, bez přítlaku na pilu. Stal jsem se médiem toho kódu, kterej mi zevnitř diktoval, co mám dělat a já jen naslouchal, o nic jinýho se nestaral a užíal si to. A o to podle mě jde i v jiných systémech a v životě vůbec...Pak už bylo jedno, jestli udělám tvary písmen hranatý, kulatý, geometrický, nebo rozteklý.
Inspirovalo mě cokoliv. Různý atmosféry, například barevnost listí na podzim, zabíjela mě radikální rudost vlčího máku v kontrastrním zeleným poli, takže hned jsem chtěl mít svůj piece ve stejných barvách, nebo třeba různý vizuální rytmy, radiátor ústředního topení atd. atd. Zkrátka najednou se dalo čehokoliv dotknout kouzelnou hůlkou a přenést to do graffiti. A musím říct, že ten pocit byl dost opojnej, jako bych se ocitl na druhý straně zrcadla."

(Scarf v knize "In Graffiti We Trust")
ORLOCK --- 19:30:10 28.12.2010
“When the heart weeps for what it has lost,
the soul laughs for what it has found.”


Sufi aphorism
SCHWEPZ --- 12:19:38 28.12.2010
"Pokud to co hledáš, nenalezneš v sobě, nikdy to nenalezneš." (Alchymistické krédo)

Thomasův theorém: Situace definována jako reálná, se stává reálnou ve svých důsledcích.

Celý problém se světem spočívá v tom, že hlupáci a fanatici jsou si sebou vždy tak jistí, zatímco moudřejší lidé jsou tak plní pochybností. (B.Russel)

Jsem šťastný, že stojím pevně nohama na zemi a nad hlavou mám modré nebe, ne jako nešťastníci na jižní polokouli, visící hlavou dolů do nekonečné prázdnoty.

"Jediný statek, který je spravedlivě rozdělen, je lidský rozum. Nikdo si nestěžuje, že ho má málo." (Michel de Montaigne)

Využijte darů, které vám byly dány. Les by byl velmi tichý, kdyby zpívali jen ti ptáci, kteří zpívají nejlépe. (H. van Dyke)

...kdo si představuje, že všechny plody dozrávají současně s jahodami, neví nic o hroznech. (Paracelsus)

"Žiji ve svých snech. Jiní lidé také žijí ve snech, rozdíl je v tom, že nikoliv ve vlastních."(Hermann Hesse)

"Někteří lidé berou sami sebe tak vážně, až je to směšné. Berme život takový, jaký je - a nikdy není tak špatný, aby bylo nejhůř!"

Až ti bude v životě nejhůř, otoč se čelem ke slunci a všechny stíny padnou za tebe. (John Lennon
GAISAKA --- 16:32:30 27.12.2010
KERRAY: já bych instruction manual for life viděl spíš takhle... -)
YouTube - František Krištof Veselý - Ja Som Veselý
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EYdS9rYMLkk
??? --- 19:49:24 26.12.2010
+ jeste od nej, tez ze zaveru Waldenu

I love to weigh, to settle, to gravitate toward that which most strongly and rightfully attracts me—not hang by the beam of the scale and try to weigh less—not suppose a case, but take the case that is; to travel the only path I can, and that on which no power can resist me.
??? --- 19:49:13 26.12.2010
However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names. It is not so bad as you are. It looks poorest when you are richest. The fault-finder will find faults even in paradise. Love your life, poor as it is.

H. D. Thoreau

[pokracovani:
You may perhaps have some pleasant, thrilling, glorious hours, even in a poorhouse. The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the almshouse as brightly as from the rich man's abode; the snow melts before its door as early in the spring. I do not see but a quiet mind may live as contentedly there, and have as cheering thoughts, as in a palace. The town's poor seem to me often to live the most independent lives of any. Maybe they are simply great enough to receive without misgiving. Most think that they are above being supported by the town; but it oftener happens that they are not above supporting themselves by dishonest means, which should be more disreputable. Cultivate poverty like a garden herb, like sage. Do not trouble yourself much to get new things, whether clothes or friends. Turn the old; return to them. Things do not change; we change. Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts. God will see that you do not want society. If I were confined to a corner of a garret all my days, like a spider, the world would be just as large to me while I had my thoughts about me. The philosopher said: "From an army of three divisions one can take away its general, and put it in disorder; from the man the most abject and vulgar one cannot take away his thought." Do not seek so anxiously to be developed, to subject yourself to many influences to be played on; it is all dissipation. Humility like darkness reveals the heavenly lights. The shadows of poverty and meanness gather around us, "and lo! creation widens to our view." We are often reminded that if there were bestowed on us the wealth of Croesus, our aims must still be the same, and our means essentially the same. Moreover, if you are restricted in your range by poverty, if you cannot buy books and newspapers, for instance, you are but confined to the most significant and vital experiences; you are compelled to deal with the material which yields the most sugar and the most starch. It is life near the bone where it is sweetest. You are defended from being a trifler. No man loses ever on a lower level by magnanimity on a higher. Superfluous wealth can buy superfluities only. Money is not required to buy one necessary of the soul.]