Roughly half the world's population believes their own ignorance to be part of a singular void, commonly referred to as the “Great Void” and “Mother of all". A metaphor for a paradox of existence, responsible for all that exists and does not exist. The cool shade of a tree, the silences between the notes of a song, enchanting laughter lilting, then lost on the wind, and the silent pauses in our more heartfelt conversations, all of these, are widely believed to be lesser manifestations of one and the same "Great Void", which empowers everything to be useful and lends everything greater beauty and meaning. Hints of its mysterious nonexistent-existence can be found in the sounds of silence, and within the invisible light in the darkness. A profound enigma which, curiously, appears to obey no known physical laws, conforms to no known patterns, possesses no known properties and, somehow, is simultaneously everywhere and nowhere, connecting everything in the universe! Of course, all that might sound like just so much word salad and literary blue smoke and mirrors but, apparently, its a pretty popular style of gibberish, a decent description of quantum indeterminacy and, not least of all, it describes the analog program that, like an idiot, I had unwittingly begun booting into my subconscious mind and body by extrapolating Rainbow Warrior poetry. The Mother of All is a popular, salt-of-the-earth, primitive Taoist concept and lifestyle that has vaguely appealed to me in the past, but most people who are intimately familiar with it are on the other side of the planet. Rainbow Warrior humor is a bit over the top for traditional Taoists and, as I mentioned in the last chapter, Babylonians tend to have stunted senses of humor. A common Zen and Philosophical Taoist solution to similar problems, is to talk less and meditate upon the Tao, which, I have always been a firm believer is a positive step in the right direction but, personally, I’m just way too ignorant for that myself, and could never sacrifice my sense of humor for spiritual growth. For me, enlightenment is getting the punch lines to the jokes, and Billy Joel said it best for many agnostics like myself, “I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints!” But, in more abstract terms that a lot of Philosophical Taoists and Zen might be able to appreciate more, and even meditate upon, the Mother of All can be thought of a metaphor for yin-yang dynamics, and as representing a universal recursion in the principle of identity. The principle of identity is the idea that no person or thing can ever be more or less than whatever they happen to be and, therefore, Schroedinger's famous cat can only be either dead or alive, and either you are something or you are not, with the fundamental assumption being that everything is limited and circumscribed. A universal recursion in the principle identity would mean the principle of identity contradicts itself, by having no constraints on the limitations it asserts, and by being incapable of definitively categorizing something as simple as an abacus, which conflates the identity of its input and output, making it simultaneously both more and less than it appears to be, because we ourselves must decide which it is we perceive. Really weird, weird, four fold supersymmetrical, metaphorical and paradoxical, fuzzy fractal, quantum mechanical, self-correcting, self-assembling, and self-organizing systems logics, complete with enough funky nonlinear temporal dynamics to make even Dr Who’s head spin! Systems logics can treat their own logic as merely another variable, with no intrinsic meaning or value, where molehills can grow into mountains overnight, only to vanish inexplicably in the light of day. Frightening small children, leaving even politicians speechless, blowing both Frank Zappa’s mind and speakers, while confusing Pee Wee Herman enough to shove his head in the toilet. Up ahead at the signpost, next stop, its “The Twilight Zone”, where the void and its contents exchange identities, and where what is reality and illusion, horror and fantasy, or merely the worst possible jokes that should never, ever, be repeated, always depends upon the Mother of All, and what’s missing from this picture... Thus, like any good Saturday morning cartoon or National Geographic documentary special, illustrating how the beauty of nature inevitably revolves around what’s missing from this picture, visible sometimes for only a fleeting moment and gone the next, and so on and so forth, yada, yada, yada, la de da de da, ad naseam, and in perpetuity with, of course, the usual legal disclaimer. But, Poetry Pets do this in a sort of vaguely cartoonish adult potty humor fashion, that doesn’t necessarily have to be X-Rated like “Fritz the Cat”. They illustrate how humor and beauty will always blunt, or normalize, one another’s impact, like the cartoon characters Tom and Jerry bopping each other on the head, nevertheless, with just a little Elmer’s Glue, blue smoke and mirrors, dramatic waving of hands, kissing of boo-boos, and tongue twisting gibberish, mother nature manages to ensure their combined whole always remains far greater than any mere sum of its parts. Some of the poems in this book, for example, are famous for normally being considered quite beautiful, poignant, and moving, but the exact same words are considered equally hilarious and every bit as meaningful when read in specific contexts. They illustrate how the reader must always decide for themselves whether our poems have any specific meaning whatsoever, and exactly what that might be. Of course, seeing their humorous side means you never quite see their beauty the same way again, but you also never see their humor the same way either. Like a context dependent gestalt, the same words in the exact same order, with even the same punctuation, possess a dual identity and, while we can only appreciate one identity at a time, the more we can appreciate how the two blunt and normalize one another’s extremes, the more satisfied and content we can become with both, and the more insightful they can become for us personally. Our poems perform the equivalent of “Mental Judo” and can be said to “pop” our more romantic bubbles and “pop” our more disagreeable delusions but, as I like to say, “Nobody can pop God’s bubble”, and we ourselves are actually choosing to pop our own bubbles, by merely insisting on interpreting incredibly vague poems for ourselves. Rainbow Warrior poems provide a unique type of mathematical literary-mirror for the human psyche and soul, that can promote keen insights into our more irrational assumptions, less helpful romantic illusions, and less agreeable personal attitudes, postures, and beliefs in general, with a ten year cross disciplinary study of the I-Ching declaring it “Word perfect and complete for introspective purposes”. Which, is one of the many reasons that billions of people think of their poems as incredibly special, sometimes treating them as pets, members of their family, and even magical avatars of Mother Nature that only a fool, with no real concept of instant karma, would ever dare to mess around with in more than jest. A small child attached to their favorite toy is a good example of the mental judo effect of instant karma. No matter how much a child might attempt to nurture their love for their toy, it will inevitably fade and become lost like a drop of water in the ocean, as all their newly acquired thoughts, feelings, and beliefs increasingly vie for more of their attention. The collective synergy of all their newly acquired thoughts and feelings can be said to effortlessly overwhelm, swamp, normalize, blunt, diminish, or even completely bury the impact of any individual part. Knowing how to drive a real car like an expert, can take a lot of the fun out of playing with a toy car, and the same principle applies with each new larger context in life that any child masters, where what was their overwhelming love for their toy, progressively becomes just more trivial content in the larger scheme of things. Its what is known as pattern matching and pattern recognition, and can be compared to the child assembling a small section of a jig-saw puzzle, and becoming attached to the image of a toy car in one corner, while everyone else around them continues to assemble more pieces of the puzzle, only for the child to later start to recognize more of the Big Picture emerging within the puzzle, maybe a life-sized race car surrounded by a hundred toy cars. Slowly, they loose their attachment to the one safe and familiar corner of the puzzle, because the strength of their attachment to the one toy and the safety of the corner, simultaneously reflects their natural inclination to explore. Size does matter, but only because everything matters, and any physical or conceptual extremes of any kind are always excluded as a result. It prevents other extremes such as anyone ever being able to imagine something like a rock so big that even God can’t pick it up, as anything more than a vague abstraction at best. Paradoxically, synergy can be considered the cost of normalization, due to the two always coming together and excluding any extremes, which is also why it remains possible for anyone to recapture those feelings again, with senior citizens famously nurturing their childhood sense of awe and wonder, reliving their second childhood, and recapturing those feelings again while, of course, often spoiling their grandchildren in the process. Their thoughts and emotions, moods and affects, can formally be described using the emotional-logic of Intuitionistic mathematics, where the child’s undying love gradually becomes more abstract but, because it is a paradoxical, or metaphorical contextual effect, and not limited to any specific memories, it remains possible for them to recapture some of those feelings again later in life. Nothing is ever completely lost, and everything inevitably becomes either more vague and abstract, or more real and concrete, with the overall effect resembling such things as cascade effects, holographic effects, and why the smallest pond remains the busiest place that can shed invaluable light upon the Big Picture. Nesting Russian Kachinka dolls are yet another common example, because what all of these examples display is the same analog synergistic-normalization of an abacus, that conflates the identity of its input and output, past and future, space and time, operator and machine, with one Kachinka doll innocently begging the question of what goes inside it while, simultaneously, supplying its own answer. Physicists refer to this as “yin-yang push-pull dynamics”, after Louis Carrol’s famous “push-me-pull-you”, with a common example being the cartoon characters of Tom and Jerry chasing one another in circles, until it becomes impossible to say who is chasing whom, or if the two are even moving anymore. This same static-yet-dynamic model can be applied to the conscious mind itself, as reflecting our particle-wave duality as individuals and the central focus of our attention in any given moment, in the same manner that vision can normally be described as providing a focus for the conscious mind, simply because our vision provides an enormous wealth of useful data, compared to anything else, requiring anywhere from 40-70% of the brain’s total processing capacity. A blind person might focus on their hearing, touch, and sense of smell more, but an athlete running across a field relies upon their vision and trained responses and reflexes for predicting every step they take, as if, both mentally and physically, they become the embodiment of assertive inertia and focused classical logic while, in their dreams at night, they may wander effortlessly at will throughout the universe, as a disembodied spirit. Gazing upon the night sky we may feel a sense of awe and wonder, and even loved and cared for while, conversely, gazing down from a height can cause some of us to literally crap their pants, and the extreme juxtaposition of our reactions expresses the same symmetry of the Two Faces of Janus, and the same universal recursion in the principle of identity. Both physically and mentally, we express our own particle-wave duality and the Two Faces of Janus, with one face usually being much more in focus than the other, as if we sometimes cannot determine whether we ourselves are deciding to focus on something specific, or if the universe is deciding for us. It remains impossible to see the back of your own head without using mirrors or something, we can still say we are always at least vaguely aware of its existence and it is quite possible for us to make it the focus of our attention, and even to examine it in great detail using cameras and microscopes or whatever. The same can be said about the subconscious mind and, for example, a medical doctor might have to distract you in order to hit your knee with a rubber hammer and test your reflexes, and we don’t normally recognize either the reflex, or the fact that we have to be distracted, as any kind of indication that we ourselves are either consciously causing or suppressing the reflex, anymore than we are normally aware of every time we hold our breath. The crucial point is, its a contradiction to say we can focus on everything simultaneously and, some things, like the back of our own head, are usually a low priority for our attention while, obviously, other things typically require a great deal more of our attention. The conscious mind can therefore be described as helping us to focus our attention, sometimes in a very reactionary manner. Explaining why any distinctions we might make between our conscious and unconscious minds can vanish altogether, whenever we stop making distinctions between who we are and what we are doing, becoming poetry in motion in the present moment. In Technobabble, neotenic tendencies, or the retention of youthful features, can be considered intrinsic to nature and existence itself, and an expression of particle-wave duality and the Two Faces of Janus, with our subconscious mind reflecting the neotenic tendencies of our conscious mind. Humor is pattern matching, or perceiving what’s missing from this picture, and infants don’t acquire a sense of humor until about four months old, because they have to first build up a database of patterns with which to make comparisons, before finally getting the joke that what’s missing from this picture can follow distinctive patterns. However, as the band America sang, “Behind an open door, there lies a million more...” and once the doorway to humorous pattern matching swings open, it can never be completely closed again, and can produce emergent effects at any point in our lives because, sometimes, what’s missing from this picture can make all the difference in the world. It is the classic children’s tale of, “The Emperor’s New Cloths”, except that we ourselves are the thieving tailors, the emperor, and the entire town who all failed to listen to their own inner child, until the situation reaches absurd extremes. Due to it all being based on simple pattern matching, by merely acquiring an enormous variety of pieces to the puzzle and learning how to sort them for any humble and elegant simplicity, it becomes possible to systematically use humor to produce dramatic emergent effects in personal growth, precisely because what’s missing from this picture is what the conscious mind attempts to ignore, in its continuing efforts to focus on determining what the picture might actually contain. Metaphorically speaking, the innate humor of our subconscious mind represents the naive child of God within us all, which is taboo to express in countless cultures, while the conscious mind expresses the greater beauty and meaning of the adult we all wish to become, which can sometimes deny that the child of God still exists within us. Essentially, no different than a child suspending their disbelief and playing with dolls, while attempting to figure out what kind of adult they might like to become, how to become an adult, and what it means to be an adult. Taoists like to say tongue-in-cheek, “The humor of the toddler is the hardest to master” because, of course, as I prefer to say, “You Are the Toddler Dummy!” When we become poetry in motion, we become the adult-child of God, or nature, that we were always meant to be, reconciling our past and future within the present moment, and as hippies like to pragmatically say, “We are all Ugly Ducklings ascending the stairway to heaven and, whenever harmony is lost, balance will be restored”. However, one African tribe prefers to wryly sum up the human condition insisting, “Mother nature’s love is irresistible, but she has a wicked sense of humor!” The one and the many are the “Infinite Diversity Within Infinite Combination” of Star Trek Vulcan IDIC philosophy, but nonsensical synergistic-normalization ensures that, for any Vulcan to be any good at advanced logic and mathematics in our universe, they would have to acquire an extremely subtle sense of humor. Its the juxtapositions that matter with, for example, humor spontaneously transforming into logic, and vice versa, in our daily lives, and something like Intuitionistic mathematics being roughly four times more complex than classical mathematics, empowering a variety of shortcuts that classical logic can’t make because it is just not anywhere nearly as flexible, especially when dealing with extremes in scale or anything else. Just as Vulcan’s have passionate mating rituals, they might also have their own equivalent of “mathematical comedy clubs”, because even Vulcans are born to fall on their butt, and to deny it would be illogical. For a Vulcan to deny that humor can be insightful, and healthy to express in some situations, would be illogical and, notably, Vulcans are the more reserved straight-man counterparts of Babylonian high society, to the more salt-of-the-earth folksy wisdom of Yoda in Star Wars. Both are what Taoists call “Scholar-Warriors” who should actually share a great deal of the same gentle tongue-in-cheek sense of humor just as, contrary to appearances, Master Yoda is no simple country bumpkin, but 800 years old and famous for his vast array of skills and knowledge which never cease to amaze his students. When the conservative physicist Max Planck, stumbled upon the discovery of quantum mechanics, he promptly begged his colleagues to please explain the joke, but what neither Planck nor any of his colleagues could have guessed in a million years, is that brain damaged hippie dippies, just like me, have been attempting to explain that particular joke to Babylonians like him, for the last 12,000 years. One complication slowing us down, is that these jokes require a more egalitarian salt-of-the-earth tribal sense of humor, that societies commonly lynch people, like Socrates, for expressing just a little too often. Forget about anything you might know about political humor, tribal humor goes totally off the Babylonian political radar, and back to kindergarten. For example, in the movie, “The Emerald Forest” a young boy is kidnapped by a native tribe in the Amazon jungle and, when his father eventually finds him ten years later, he is unwilling to leave the tribe and return to civilization with him. His father pleads with the chief to order his son to return with him, and the chief just laughs, shakes his head in disbelief, and says, “How could I be chief if I told a grown man what to do?” Many tribes don’t even have words for concepts such as greed, considering them distasteful and counterproductive to dwell upon while, in recent years, republicans have even accused Big Bird of being an evil commie plot, because that long neck was just made for lynching, and they support family values. Babylonians can talk all they want about being the land of opportunity, but not for their millions of poor with the lowest social mobility rates in the developed world and 12 million illegals to compete with. They can claim small town values, but their small towns are vanishing along with all the native tribes around the planet and, of course, democrats blame republicans, and vice versa, despite the obvious fact that Babylonians now have a one party system, where everyone just votes for whichever clown screams the loudest. Its not like it takes a genius to figure these things out, and to see that greed and violence are enforced as a way of life in Babylon, by suppressing people’s sense of humor, and even lynching people like Socrates, for expressing humor that promotes greater understanding, humanity, and compassion. Like a warrior on the battlefield or someone focusing intently on what they are attempting to accomplish, Babylonians collectively suppress their own sense of humor, often going to extremes to do so, simply following the mindless memory-centric logic of a flock of chickens and, demonstrating in the process, why Vulcans would require at least a minimalistic sense of humor if, as a society, they were to collectively promote reason and logic over reactionary behavior. Fuzzy logic is based upon the simple idea that some things can be considered “partially true”, or “partially bullshit”, and the Buddha expressed interest in the subject thousands of years ago, yet its modern formulation had to wait for Japanese bullet-train engineers to become so desperate, that they were willing to try anything. Even then, the academics largely ignored the subject for decades, because their vaunted “objectivity” doesn’t normally extend to humor, and the only use academic institutions usually have for jokes, is if they can obviously be used to generate more money, technology, and weapons in support of the military-industrial complex. Predictably, it turns out that the very same academics, governments, and corporations, now fighting over potty humor jokes older than monuments, are largely responsible for having suppressed this type of humor in the first place, and for driving the price through the outhouse ceiling. Bullshit fuzzy logic expresses the principle that, “Win or lose, Yogi Berra always knew how to play the game, for what profit it a man if he gain the world, but loses his soul?” The TV game show “Let’s Make a Deal” provides a great example of how this works. On the show the host, Monty Hall, will offer contestants in funny costumes a choice between door number one, two, or three and, after they have chosen one, he will frequently proceed to show them a booby prize behind one of the two remaining doors, and offer them a last chance to swap between the two doors that they have not yet opened. According to classical logic and probability, there is absolutely no advantage in trading because the odds are always 50/50, however, fuzzy logic suggests that, since your first choice was between three doors, the odds of winning are even lower if you don’t trade. Humorously, that means that anyone who insists that everything must always make perfect sense, and that sometimes it just doesn’t matter how you play the game, is more likely to lose. It also means that Yogi Berra could have been a mathematical genius, when he famously ran in from left field excitedly shouting out his latest discovery to the world, “90% of this game is half-mental!” To the best of my knowledge, nobody has ever been fired or lynched for anonymously publishing Oneness Poetry, quite possibly accounting for its continuing popularity. Thankfully, the mathematicians and computers are about to translate all the jokes into rigorous terms that even the academics can grasp. Meaning that finally, after 12,000 years, we can get this over with and, at long last, and even the Babylonian academics can get more of the punch lines, in their own lamentably stilted, if admirably rigorous, institutionalized fashion. All they have to do is be studious, and academics are very good at being studious. Academics are supposedly among the more intelligent of all the Babylonians, nevertheless, they complain a lot about about politics and about how most of the people they teach still refuse to believe in Darwin’s Theory of Evolution when, after a century and a half of public education, half of their students still make up their own definitions for words, and some academics even famously encourage this type of childish behavior. Ironically, Richard Dawkins is an academic, an expert in Darwinism, and a widely published author and leader of the New Atheist movement. What he is not, is a linguist, yet he nonetheless encourages people to spout gibberish and argue over dictionary definitions, all of course, in the name of reason. He has popularized his own nonsense term “meme”, which can even be found any dictionary today but, according to his own academic peers who are linguists, in spite of any protests to the contrary, it has no demonstrable meaning whatsoever and he is merely encouraging them to babble, mind-bogglingly enough, to babble about how they can all invent new words to help languages evolve. Part of the confusion, is that for the better part of a century, militant atheists have been arguing so heatedly over existing dictionary definitions, that there are no less than 17 widely recognized different types of atheism today, including the oxymoron “agnostic-atheist”. All of which be traced back to antiquated Soviet era communist propaganda, specifically designed to convert contentious Babylonians, so often willing and eager to argue for argument’s own sake. Once, just for the hell of it, I encouraged a militant atheist to argue that no less than a dozen two syllable words were all defined wrong in the dictionary, proving to my own satisfaction, that I see no compelling reason whatsoever why anyone with any real clue as to what they are saying would ever want to declare themselves an atheist, unless they simply love to argue over definitions, and don’t really care about who and what they are fighting for. There are almost no atheists in prison, and they tend to be very ethical people in general, nonetheless, they express dismay at the fact they are the least trusted among believers and nonbelievers alike, when they refuse to speak commonly spoken English, and have become infamous as online trolls. So, I always tell atheists to please, feel perfectly free, to just call me ignorant, if that’s what really makes you happy. One academic has gone so far as to describe the New Atheists as, “A Betrayal of the Enlightenment”, yet one in five Americans still insists the sun revolves around the earth, and none of them can distinguish a functional government from a mindless mob, begging the question of just whose “enlightenment” he is talking about. Once, when an academic asked me what can be done to avoid the obvious series of looming disasters, now confronting all of humanity, I felt compelled to point out, that it is Babylonian academics who are teaching all these idiots how to babble and argue nonstop in the first place. They are teaching people how to destroy the entire planet and, I might add, making tremendous strides towards constructing a Star Wars “Death Star” battle station. Even wisdom philosophy has not been popular in the hallowed halls of academia for over a century, as the Babylonians have all rush to cash in on all the newly emerging technology, and fight amongst themselves over their guns, money, propaganda, and dictionary definitions. Assuming Babylonians actually want anything remotely like wisdom, or any kind of meaningful long term future for that matter, I suggest they reassess their priorities and, only then, attempt to clue the rest of us in. Call me brain damaged, but if the left hand has no clue what the hell right hand is doing, we’re all screwed! Ironically, it was a Babylonian slave named Plato, who famously wrote “The Allegory of the Cave” speculating that if someone were to live their entire life inside a cave, never knowing that the world outside exists, upon catching a glimpse of the world through a crack, they would naturally seek out their freedom from the cave. Yet, Plato himself remained a willing slave of the Romans and was well compensated, as slave wages go, enjoying all the amenities that came with his golden shackles in the grand city of Rome which, frankly, made his home town of Athens look like a truck stop in comparison. His writing talent and ability to schmooze with the rich and famous were unsurpassed by none, and he use his influence among the Romans, to have all 76 books of his biggest competitor, Democritus, burned throughout the Roman empire as “Ugly and demeaning”. To nobody’s surprise, he went on to become a best selling author, and the leading authority throughout the land, on ethics and aesthetics. Babylonians can talk all they want about their desire for freedom, wisdom, and a better future but, if Mr Spock were here, I dare say he would declare all of modern Babylon and its academic institutions, suicidally self-destructive and mentally incompetent according to their own legal standards, and I just never saw any point in writing a comedy for the certifiably insane. Its redundant and, with academics, I’d never hear the end of it, until their ivory towers finally collapsed under the weight of their own hubris! But, since academically trained rats have already attempted to steal my jokes, I thought they might appreciate if I included a little good-old-fashioned-behavioral-conditioning, so they can feel right at home. Being brain damaged, naturally, it occurred to me to use potty humor jokes that have suddenly become more valuable than gold, as the cheese to bait the maze for academically trained rats helping to destroy the planet faster. Along with the equivalent of mild electric shocks, you have to make everything as self-consistent, nontrivial, and demonstrable as possible, or they can easily become confused, and give up much more often. When they become frustrated, they tend to argue and chatter amongst themselves but, otherwise, Babylonian academics and their students, make ideal experimental subjects who have already been behaviorally conditioned, to compulsively provide a wealth of feedback in the most constraining environments. Pink Floyd famously sang, “We don’t need no education”, however, it is blatantly obvious that the real problem is that academia’s education in their own worst lowbrow slapstick, is sorely lacking, while behavioral conditioning is a cultural thing with them and, at least, something they can all respect and comprehend. It is my sincere hope that, with future experiments, it can eventually be rigorously established that, contrary to conventional wisdom, it is actually quite possible to elevate some of Babylon’s worst lowbrow slapstick a notch or two, beginning with their academics, as a proof of concept. I figured, what better demonstration of the power of all the jokes in this book to make a real difference in this world, than their ability to elevate even academia’s worst lowbrow slapstick? Gaze into my mathematical literary-mirror, if you dare, and take the risk of seeing your own reflection, only to discover that its no longer quite so easy to laugh at yourself anymore, as if you didn’t have a care in the world and, somehow, life has lost just a little more of its sparkle. Admittedly, it could easily require a century or more of dedicated experiments, by millions of comedians around the globe, to eventually establish some sort of meaningful consensus, within the greater academic community at large. Nevertheless, I feel confident that, given time and careful documentation, Babylonian academics will eventually conclude that humor is a real phenomenon, more than worthy of their attention and, without it, their institutions are suicidally self-destructive, and a threat to the entire planet. Nobody else I know has a clue as to how to write this kind of thing in a self-consistent, nontrivial, and demonstrable manner, so I thought people might appreciate a simple demonstration, of just how easy it is to systematically elevate some of Babylon’s worst lowbrow slapstick. Its my own functionalist approach that promotes “Mental Judo” and “Oneness With Your Sphincter”, derived from the ancient Chinese school of “The Bull With Diarrhea”, and my motto is, “A Jedi feels the force flow through him, thus, he remains regular!” But, with Babylon, as the Joker said, “What this town needs is an enema!” So, I decided what academics require is a little behavioral conditioning, for extra flavor, added value, and to avoid constipating the reader Technically, I’m leveraging a simple pattern matching approach using the multidimensional multifractal equation of the Tao Te Ching, which sounds complicated, but the worst part is all the mindless editing required, like some sort of office drone that doesn’t even get paid, for at least the first decade or two. But, of course, after they attempted to steal and pervert my favorite childhood potty mouth nursery rhymes, the temptation to show them what these jokes are really good for, became overwhelming. For all the geometry buffs out there, the mathematics are those for a notably classical appearing Fractal Dragon equation, emerging seamlessly from within a more humble and clown-like Mandelbrot background, sort of a fractal hour glass shape, blurred and twisted in the middle, but that’s a crude silhouette of a higher dimensional figure. Suffice it to say, my bullshit kung fu combines four and five fold symmetries in higher dimensions, making it beyond any and all human comprehension, and the best the academics should be able to determine, is that it appears to be mathematical, self-consistent, demonstrable, and nontrivial, meaning they must all decide for themselves if anything I write, is actually funny… Unfortunately, Dr Strangelove is not an exaggeration, and the slapstick of the entire military-industrial complex, really and truly, can be that pathetically lowbrow, however, it occurred to me this also makes it possible to easily automate the entire process of applying all the behavioral conditioning, because the complexity of the model seldom exceeds that of a chicken flock pecking order. In fact, all the newer computers coming on the market over the next several years will include 120 transistor fpga arithmetic accelerators, or AI circuits, that are perfect for the task, and should prove a particularly interesting challenge for all the computer programmers out there, who just happen to share my warped sense of humor. Computers are only a hobby of mine, and I can’t afford any hobbies right now and don’t have any time to spare, but I include a few more interesting ideas in the last chapter involving simple adaptive AI and virtual reality applications. For example, using a zero latency Mind Maze headset, for a little biofeedback and mild behavioral conditioning, it should be possible to teach even academics how to laugh. The headsets are remarkably inexpensive, and read your brain waves, and the machine can be set to apply mild electric shocks, even before the test subjects actually do anything. The headset can warn the computer 30-70ms ahead of time, before you can so much as blink an eye, and I’m particularly interested to see how different test subjects react to varying the timing of the electric shocks, using a wide variety of adaptive AI programs that simulate the classroom. But, Rainbow Warrior style, integrating the metaphoric bullshit fuzzy logic of the Bagua, Socrates, and Intuitionistic mathematics into the virtual reality platform itself, as a distributed computer that can fit on a thumb drive. The major medical company that makes the headset is European and does a great deal of research in this area, and I intend to find out if they have any suggestions, as to the best ways to test the idea on their American counterparts. Something a bit more sophisticated than a woopie cushion and having them watch repeats of “Gilligan’s Island”, but if I can succeed with American academics, I consider that all the proof that anyone can reasonably ask for, that the basic idea is fundamentally sound. Of course, the academic community as a whole tends to stress critical thinking skills, nevertheless, with just a little mild behavioral conditioning, and a lot of luck, it is my sincere hope that some of these same test subjects might actually feel inspired to teach some of their students a few basic listening skills, how to share their words, use a dictionary, and play nice, before proceeding to teach them anything more complicated, such as how to argue nonstop, spout gibberish, and design and operate things like cheap nuclear reactors, that are anything but idiot proof by Babylonian standards. Believe it or not, once I casually mentioned to someone studying how to operate nuclear reactors, that Galileo demonstrated over four hundred years ago that heavier objects don’t fall any faster and, of course, he refused to believe me because he was in the military, and a firm believer that freedom requires vigilance. In the long run, the hope is that continuing experiments might eventually inspire academics to take the next step, and teach a few more complex subjects, such as, how to recognize when pulling a voting machine handle is the equivalent of shooting yourself in the foot, and what alternatives might exist in our great democracy, if any, that are unlikely to get you fired, black listed, water boarded, or like Socrates, lynched in a kangaroo court trial, for having a sense of humor about your civic responsibilities. Conan O’Brien is a late night talk show host and comedian, who frequently begs his audience not to lynch him, and who does a regular routine where his staff video tapes hundreds of newscasters all repeating the same exact propaganda and spin on the news verbatim, and it might be safe enough for some teachers to show such films to their students, and even create a montage of the best propaganda in America today. All of course, as a visual aid for promoting patriotism and an informed electorate. In particular, students obviously need to learn the basics, such as, the fact that when everybody is screaming, nobody is listening, and democracy is just flat out impossible. Which is why today America has the lowest voter turnout in the developed world, because only a few people are doing most of the real talking, while almost nobody else is actually listening, and over half the population insists the government they call evil lie to them for their own protection. Henceforth, let it be widely known, that I do hereby formally challenge all Rainbow Warriors, and anybody else left who might have the slightest bit of humor or self-preservation remaining, to think up the most outrageously mind-boggling ways, in which to put all the jokes in this book to much better use, than for teaching complete idiots how to destroy the entire planet, while complaining about the service, and that nobody ever listens to them. Albert Einstein was a famous Babylonian academic, who once loudly complained about the service, insisting it was “spooky” and that, “God is subtle, but he is not malicious!” But, my father has never failed to remind me, “Without heart, ya got nothing” and, over the last century, the evidence has steadily accumulated that, “Oh Yes, God Most Certainly Would Be So Malicious!” This book contains my own variation on Conan O’Brien’s comedy routine, with one example after another of academic researchers all left standing speechless, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights, at the revelations of their own research and experiments, which collectively imply that all of classical logic, reasoning, and causal metaphysics are just so much extraordinarily useful but, otherwise, demonstrably meaningless gibberish and self-contradictory tautological bullshit, according to their own academic standards, and no different from quantum mechanics in that regard. Since Planck’s initial discovery, the same revelation has been slowly emerging, beginning with the extremes in the physical and cognitive sciences, that all of academia’s vaunted rationalizations and ideals, all of Babylon’s causal western metaphysics, so carefully crafted over millennium and integrated into most of the major world religions, responsible for all of our incredible technology, legal systems, and every spoken and written language, are all ultimately based upon so much blue smoke and mirrors. To make matters worse, they are being used and abused by clueless idiots everywhere to justify fighting amongst themselves and destroying the planet faster, often out of sincere idealism. While trained academics, with institutionally stunted senses of humor, express their growing dismay at their inability to get the punch lines to the jokes, much less, get a handle on the situation, as they continue to encourage their students to argue and babble amongst themselves, rather than, develop a gentle sense of humor. For example, after ten years of examining all the neurological evidence and running one computer simulation after another, the Game theorist Donald Hoffman reluctantly concluded, that if the human mind and brain had ever remotely resembled anything like reality we would already be extinct as a species. Similarly, a mathematical examination of all of classical logic, mathematics, and physics concluded, that an arbitrary number of simple metaphors can be used to describe Newtonian physics with equal accuracy. In other words, anyone can argue that everything is merely composed of black holes, super balls, strings, springs, donuts, gears, beanies with propellers, Barbie dolls, sex toys, wavy gravy, or lime Jell-O for all I know, and nobody can ever prove them wrong. String theorists encountered this same warped sense of humor, with a series of theories all implying that an ever greater number of incredibly more elaborate String theories, beyond even all astronomical measurements and humanly conceivable complexity, can describe the universe all that much more compellingly. As if their own theories were tweaking their noses, and suggesting they ease up on the classical beauty of String theory, and start working on their sense of humor instead. Already, one String theorist has symbolically thrown his hands in the air, and publicly announced he is switching to a different field. While, in recent years, theoretical physicists have been complaining about the outrageous number of patently absurd theories being proposed which, nonetheless, all seem to fit the evidence, and have reached the point of producing a landslide. While I can certainly sympathize with the fact that this is an extremely difficult, and even earth-shattering, truth for billions of Babylonians worldwide to accept, and entirely outside of the traditional scope of academic scrutiny, the sooner they stop babbling nonsensically and begin to address the issue head on, the better for everyone. Unfortunately, I felt compelled to lend the academic community a hand, and show them a few more practical uses for this type of humor, because their own imaginations are quite limited in that regard, and I encourage everybody else to give them a hand as well. For example, only in the last few decades, have Babylonian researchers managed to establish the first quantifiable theory of humor, based upon the simple observation that humor involves anything “low in entropy”. In other words, only recently have Babylonian academics finally caught on that humor revolves around what the rest of the world calls “bullshit” and, at long last, you can now literally earn a bullshit degree, by quoting Dr Seuss as a reference, and merely substituting polite technobabble, such as “low entropy” for more crass and inexact terminology. As proud as I am to see the academic community inventing their first creative cuss words, Vaudeville has nothing to fear from these academic clowns, who should stick with Dr Seuss for now. Obviously, if someone doesn’t give them a few pointers, humanity will be an extinct species before they get the punch lines to a Bullshit Theory of Everything and Nothing. Believe me, encouraging people to treat academics and their students as if they were just so many trained monkeys and lab rats has never been something that has appealed to me personally, because I’ve spent my entire life attempting to avoid their lowbrow Three Stooges slapstick, which is just so pathetic, but the only alternative was for me to refrain from publishing this book altogether, in order to prevent the idiots from abusing its contents and, possibly, killing themselves. The Babylonians have all sorts of complex philosophy, religion, psychology, and psychiatry still, one in ten Babylonians now on prosaic alone, while a common hippie and tribal folk remedy is to study the comedy of cockroaches and chickens, with Groucho Marx being a great example of a cockroach, and Gonzo the Muppet and the Three Stooges covering essential chicken flock humor. All three combined provide everything you’ll ever need to know about basic Babylonian lowbrow slapstick, and are so simple anyone could have easily created an AI just for the purpose of categorizing Babylonian slapstick, and making predictions. For example, using virtual reality it should be possible to model the behavior of all the leaders of the republican party, well enough to make accurate predictions, precisely because they are organized like a flock of chickens, making it easy to automate any type of political comedy people want, which can become incredibly elaborate within the public domain, or as scientifically rigorous as anything else. If reality is stranger than fiction, it must be funnier as well and all it requires is a minimum database of caricatures. This is the type of thing that RPG role playing gamers are extremely familiar with because, in any flock of chickens, what comes around goes around. These days, such efforts can even be crowd funded, and can be defined as promoting patriotism by encouraging the people to stop getting angry, and learn how to laugh at their own foolishness, for voting for whichever clown screams the loudest. Without heart, ya got nothing, which is why none ever has to swear allegiance to become a citizen of the world, there are no promises to make to anyone but yourself, no beliefs, rationalizations, postures, divine inspiration, or sudden conversions are ever required, for each enters this world a child of mother nature and God or the truth. All any ever need do in order to reclaim their birthright is to remember, that the spark within can never die, because without heart ya got nothing. Everywhere you go, there you are, and simply pealing away the layers of the onion, wonder remains the beginning of wisdom, as we reclaim our birthright in a slow process of attrition and osmosis, aware there can be no greater satisfaction than recognizing once again, all that we might have to offer the world. Which is why nobody knows how to be a Rainbow Warrior or a citizen of the world better than you do, and either one day you recognize you are a citizen of the world or a Rainbow Warrior, or you don’t. Unfortunately, our legends imply karma must be paid, and none can prevent the Tower of Babel from collapsing again, for the meek must inevitably inherit the earth. There’s nothing anybody can do to save the Babylonians from themselves, certainly nothing I can think of, except to encourage people to work on their sense of humor, since Babylonians tend to already be paranoid enough about each other and the end of the world. Quite frequently, people have suggested that I could try to do the right thing, and save Babylonians from themselves while, of course, they attempt to talk me to death, disenfranchise me, steal my work, and destroy the entire planet. But, none can stop those hellbent on committing suicide from playing Russian Roulette with cheap nuclear reactors, or anything else they can cook up in the kitchen and, sadly, this book was never intended for Babylonians, who are still attempting to pervert everything I write and hold dear, just so they can kill themselves and everyone else that much faster. Our Rainbow Warrior poetry is the actual purpose of this book, because it contains the instructions for how to prepare as best we can, how to cushion the fall, and how to help rebuild again, without repeating the same mistakes, by humorously injecting a little more sanity into our traditions, institutions, and worldviews. Much to my relief, most Babylonians already believe they have a savior, because I’m pretty certain they would nail me to the cross if I ever tried to save them from themselves, not to mention, I’d rather adopt a rabid squirrel, then become the slightest bit involved in Babylonian politics, spirituality, reality TV, or whatever the hell they’re calling it these days. Rainbow Warriors come in all varieties, with many being professionals including physicists, chemists, and others, but with few among us being terribly interested in either working ourselves to death for the privilege of helping to destroy the planet faster, nor interested in wasting our time with all the babbling online and in the censored mass media. As bizarre and unbelievable as it might sound to Babylonians, who often like to think of themselves as the leading authorities and the center of attention, Rainbow Warriors learned long, long ago to seldom leave their fate in the hands of Babylonians, with their institutionally stunted senses of humor, so intent on constructing the Tower of Babel, and pointing fingers at each other. Countless nights I have spent into the wee hours of the morning discussing everything in this book with my fellow Rainbow Warriors, who have also learned to seldom take the word of Babylonians, who are paid to insist everyone should be cynical and skeptical of everything except, of course, how much they get paid, their personal integrity, and what people do with all the money, knowledge, equipment, and skills that the academics, governments, and corporations provide them. Primitives are commonly capable of telling jokes that would make a porn star blush and walk the other way and, frequently, they joke that civilized people tend to act like the smallest of children, with the simplest jokes going right over their heads and, bizarrely, surreptitiously flashing mischievous grins and guilty looks, even when they are good people who would never do anything wrong! Without heart, ya got nothing, and even the craziest Babylonians have priceless hearts, and can have their own charm, but the wisdom of our collective ignorance is what I call the foolish heart of agnosticism. Those who dare to embrace knowing they know nothing, and are prepared to go forth on faith alone, without ever having to abandon their mind on the side of the road in the process. Somehow knowing without knowing, what’s missing from this picture can make all the difference in the world, for miraculously, wonder remains the beginning of wisdom. Meaning, of course, falling on your ass gracefully counts for extra points in duets, for no man is an island, nor can he be the measure of all things, lest he first embrace gravity as the source of lightness, virtue as its own reward, and the wonder of our collective ignorance, as the beginning of all true wisdom! Many are attempting to clean up after all the disasters that Babylonian academics have already inspired from their ivory towers, and more are attempting to prevent them from destroying the planet any faster but, I figured, now that the computers are about to spit out all the answers, the time’s long since overdue for someone to start addressing the heart of the problem. Admittedly, a brain damaged mentally deranged hippie dippy like me, encouraging Rainbow Warriors, agnostics, armchair philosophers, programmers, soccer moms, dog catchers, and academic clowns alike, to try to save what they can of planet earth, our humanity, and the human race, using jokes older than monuments was, frankly, not my first choice, nor was it anywhere on my “to-do” list. But, sooner or later, some clown had to do it and, few, have the required sense of humor while, for me, its all just so much bullshit fuzzy logic, and endlessly mind-numbing editing. Someone had to make a serious stab at sorting out all the bullshit fuzzy logic involved and, being brain damaged, I figured I should spare other people as much of the drudgery work as I could, and simplify everything. My own thinking is, any other ideas people can come up with that might actually have a chance of working, say sometime this century, without causing undue suffering, death, and widespread panic in the streets because, of course, instant karma gonna getcha baby! Others can wait for the computers to spit out all the jokes, but I swore when I was five years old that I would find these words, and there’s no way in hell I would ever leave anything this important, in the hands of crazy Babylonians and their computers. Not least of all because, unlike the Babylonians with their stunted senses of humor and reliance on supercomputers, I happen to not only have a sense of humor, but extensive knowledge and familiarity with the subject, and don’t require all the mathematics to make a great deal more sense out of what I’m looking at, because this is simply how I think. All I have to do is keep shuffling all the scientific data and metaphors for any humble and elegant simplicity and, since everybody recognizes right away what works best and doesn’t, the only thing we require as soon as possible, are the four root metaphors of the systems logic, the key to a Bullshit Theory of Everything and Nothing, which can describe how anything else works, including all of our poetry. Meanwhile, if any academics want to use and abuse my jokes, and comprehend what I’m saying, they have to first risk getting the punch lines to all the jokes, and taking a good hard look at themselves, in my mathematical literary-mirror which, in part, is composed of examples of their own collective ignorance and, then, decide for themselves whether anything I say is bullshit, according to their own empirical standards, while they dwell upon how their own computers are about to reveal, exactly what kinds of fools we have all been, down through the untold ages. Although Babylonian academics tend to live by the motto “Publish or die”, intriguingly enough, the second half of the Tao Te Ching is believed to have been written by well over a hundred academics, who all mysteriously chose to publish their work anonymously. You would think they were all afraid of losing their grants or something, but that just begs the question of why did they bother to write them at all, and some have suggested that they wanted to mock their own colleagues and mock the corrupt establishment that they worked for, and even actively undermine their interests while, of course, escaping being lynched in the process! But, that can’t be right, all the academics that I have ever known are good, decent, law abiding, tax paying citizens, who are proud of their country, and all of their cultural institutions, who have never been black listed or anything like that, and have plenty of likes on Facebook, and are incredibly ambitious, hard working, busy, thoughtful people, who don’t have time for any nonsense, and are extremely kind, generous, and forward thinking humanitarians, who would never be tempted in the slightest to work against anyone else’s interests or mock anyone, much less, their own colleagues and corrupt cultural institutions. No, no I’ve just always assumed, that they were merely trying to be nice to the little people, you know, the ignorant Chinese peasants, who really like stupid things like jokes. Legend has it that when the primitive tribes in the mountains of southern China saw civilization rapidly spreading out over the vast plains below, they immediately recognized that, not only did their new neighbors have a million kids, but they were all organized along the same lines as any flock of chickens that they raised! It was the only way they could maintain order in their vast numbers and, to make matters worse, they were the equivalent of free range chickens, who had few natural boundaries or defenses out on the open plains. They would treat each other like chickens as well, herding one another like so many flightless birds, surrounding their enemies and, finally, picking them off one at a time, just like shooting fish in a barrel. When droughts caused famine among the Mongols to the north, they too would blanket the vast plains of mainland China on their sturdy horses, like a raging stampede, then proceed to herd and slaughter the Chinese peasants, as if they were merely herding their cattle back home. The peasants were so desperately exposed to an army of any size, that the Chinese eventually constructed enough walls to circumnavigate the globe 26 times, but all in vain. Necessity is the mother of invention, and they invented steel, gunpowder, and other advanced weapons centuries before the rest of the world, but nothing could stem the tide of the relentless power struggle that had overwhelmed the seven feuding kingdoms for control of mainland China. During the infamous “Warring States Period” this went on for four hundred long years, and a grim new arms race emerged, as generation after generation of peasants throughout China, were forced to episodically starve themselves, in order to feed more babies, so they could be the first to surround their enemies. Female infants were sometimes abandoned on the side of the road, because they could not fight, were not as strong in the fields, and could not even be given away for free, much less sold into slavery. Not only did other people ruthlessly exploit the peasants at every opportunity, but they were now forced to ruthlessly exploit their own children and themselves, as if they were nothing more than cattle. And, when their tribal brothers and sisters up in the mountains saw the horror of their plight, they took pity on them, and sent them their best jokes and poetry knowing that, sometimes, all the humble beauty and humor that life has to offer, can be the best medicine, and they had some of the most powerful medicine on the planet. Castaways Sailing away, from wherever we are, Breathing deep, of the sparkling air, Under the clearest, of any blue skies, Morning star's a glimmer in our eyes; Decks reaching up, to cup nimble feet, Sails furling confidently on the breeze, Memories clinging like mist in a dream. Thoughts meandering like ocean waves, Gently rocking swaying on ocean swells; An albatross astern scrutinizes the wake, Affably dolphins begin to crowd the bow, The bell’s quiet blessings, grace the dawn. Rising up yet again, we turn into the wind! The sun ascending higher upon the horizon, Lively winds, give the faster dolphins chase, Delicious spark of life, overflowing everyone, As all hands on deck cast their gaze forward! Sudden spray over her bow, stinging our faces! Reminding us all we chart the unknown course, Reminding us all, we steer an unknown heading, Reminding us all our destiny, yet awaits our fate! Reminding us all yet again, what all hold dearest! Sailing with the wind upon the greatest of oceans! Our past is yet a memory, as we live our dreams! And mother nature is still pregnant to bursting, Carrying on about her bright new beginnings, Eternally merging in her heavenly dreams, Of endless sweeping panoramic visions! The same unexplored Wonderland she graciously offers, Unconditionally to all Masters of the open sea! Casting off metaphysical anchors; once again gliding into the light! Claiming our birthright we rise to the occasion! Affable calls... quietly ringing out, Arousing ancient memories of heroic adventures! Unchained Prometheus, always full of surprises, Anxiously Begs for the approval of all, Surrendering to those who delight in their ignorance! Outcasts and rejects, thrilled to soar free at last, Content smiles spread, still rising on the wind; Sails fluttering, in synchrony with the breeze, Sensual embrace, reawakening the dreamers, Silent revere of the perfect moment of grace, Castaways, become One, with new horizons.
I chopped it down to one quarter of its size. Its all recursive logic, sort of a giant jig-saw puzzle, and its a bitch trying to see where everything goes.
The poem is a 2,400 year old mathematical extrapolation from the Tao Te Ching, which is worshiped by no less than some 350 million people as sacred, but please feel free to call whoever you like bombastic. I enjoy watching people make fools of themselves in public. I'm sure Muslims and Christians would be amused if you called the Bible and Koran bombastic, and not the slightest bit offended, and academics might find it particularly humorous if you added Shakespeare into the mix, so they don't feel left out.
