Hold my hand

I have been unable to wrest this song from my brain. It's haunting, telling and beautiful: 

Eldorado

Signed copies of the book, Whispers and Shadows, Vol I: An Exquisite Corpse, is now available at Bonnett's Bookstore in Dayton, Ohio. The store has been open since 1939. It holds many secrets. 

You can also buy it online here: http://www.amazon.com/books/dp/1484062752

And it's on Kindle. But you have to go to Dayton to get a signed copy. It's worth the drive. 

Here is the full version of the poem:

Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.

But he grew old -
This knight so bold -
And o'er his heart a shadow
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado.

And, as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow -
"Shadow," said he,
"Where can it be -
This land of Eldorado?"

"Over the mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,"
The shade replied -
"If you seek for Eldorado!"

The children of chaos

I have seen these entities in my dreams time and again as evil, playful children. I know instinctively they are cosmic bastards. But I don’t know what they are. I googled the term, and came across this interesting passage: 

After Nyx, the night, and the Wind coupled and gave birth to Eros, the cosmos wasirrevocably changed. Eros was able to encircle the World-Egg, Phanos, and byconstriction, break it open and expose the Chaos within. From Chaos came all things,everything manifest, phenomena, events, states, attitudes, even the pulse and the breath.Since it was responsible for existence, all things are subject to Eros, ‘loveliest of Immortals, who makes their bodies (and men’s bodies) go limp, mastering their mindsand subduing their wills.’ And since Eros, the desirousness for life, exercises his patrimony through chaos, wherever love enters, we mortals can expect chaos not far  behind.Though we rarely think of it, the monster is the child of Eros and Chaos. 

We forget alsothat since monsters are born of love, their function must be furtherance of life. It is aspecial work, the work of protection. The idea of the monster as protector is found in theword itself. The word

monster is akin to admonish and demonstrate in that it too warnsof danger. Where danger threatens, the hero or heroine materializes. Heroism lives toslay monsters and has no time to decipher the message. Heroes move quickly, with forceand cunning. They have no time to recognize the love-child for what it is; or they do andhave even more reason for slaying. This is how we have always celebrated the marvelousfertility of chaos. It is a celebration of ignorance, a feast of fools. As soon as we look  back at the conflict between monster and hero, to the original children of Chaos(mentioned by Hesiod), archetypal monsters such as Blame, Woe, Nemesis, Deceit, andStrife, we find the same tendency. Our heroism—which constantly tries to subdue suchforces—is actually directed toward their death. Our daily combat with life’s obstaclestries to slay these children of chaos—without pondering their work in creation.Who is the monster in relation to the hero? In a way, it mirrors the relation of Love toChaos, only in reverse. Eros bears a love of chaos, because from that vortex came Love.By contrast, the hero hates the monster because of its warning. The warning wakes theconscience of the hero, who then must bear suffering the slaying of the monster the restof his life. The love-relation in which monster and hero meet is found in the story of Pasiphae, wife of King Minos of Crete, and comes from a civilization more ancient thanMinoa. Pasiphae falls in love with the white bull that had been withheld from sacrifice.Emerging from the sea, it confirmed Minos’ claim to the kingdom, as an oracle hadforetold. The animal was radiant with beauty and the king added it to his own herd. Lovethen becomes desire. Pasiphae has Daedalus, the architect, make a hollow wooden cow toher own design. In it she was able to consummate her passion, and from the union themonster the Minotaur was born.To behold the image of the Minotaur is to snap to attention. The monster commands awakefulness irrespective of one’s attitudes or states. This is his legendary ‘devouring’character. The Minotaur demanded human life for his survival and one can imagine thatwhat he ‘ate’ first was the drowsy, trance-like condition of consciousness. In someancient accounts, cannibalism is symbolic and that his ‘victims’ were really his disciples,

 pupils of the school of the labyrinth. That is true of the entire clan of chaos’s children,that the monster is made in the image of a teacher. The monster’s teaching is a penetrating sense of dread that rouses every cell in the body from sleep. The teachingwarns that even a momentary lapse brings death.

What do you think? What are the children of chaos?

My letter to the New York Times

Let us contemplate for a moment the size of the universe. And to be clear I’m not just talking about how many planets there are, or how many stars, but how much space. How much time. I’m talking about the size of reality. They are one and the same.

     There are really only two possibilities. Either the universe is finite, it has limits, it is measurable. Or it stretches on infinitely, immeasurable. Some argue the universe started at one pinpoint in time and space and a “big bang” sent it expanding, creating, defying entropy but only within its limits. Or the universe is bigger than that, the bang was just one event in a pre-existing tapestry of realities.

     Which do you think is true? Infinite or finite?

     This one fact has far-reaching ramifications. If the universe is finite, then it’s measurable. Then a large enough computer could theoretically pinpoint the outcome of every moment by measuring the actions of every atom in play, where it started and where it was inevitably going by the laws of physics. Under this construct, free will is an illusion.

     Matter can neither be created nor destroyed. You, being built of the stuff emitted from the big bang, can only do what you are already programmed to do. Your decisions were made for you the moment that time began because the things you interact with, the molecules of your brain, your car, your house, your lineage, the things surrounding you right now are made of atoms that were belched out of that big bang and have been propelled through billions of years by actions and reactions beholden to gravity, friction and thermodynamics. A slave to science.

     Your sentience, to be poetic, is a cruel joke. The moment you will die is unavoidable because it’s merely a scientific fact like the half-life of a uranium molecule. You are a spreadsheet statistic, an infinitesimal gear in a massive clock that runs, unalterable and unthinking, all by itself.

     Or.

     The alternative, of course, is that the universe is infinite. That in addition to the things in the observable world there are other factors at play. Some theorize there are other dimensions –- perhaps heavens and hells -- at countless angles and interacting with ours. Something, it could be argued, predicated the big bang. Under this construct, reality stretches on and folds into itself infinitely. Measuring matter is a fool’s errand, because it cannot be contained and perhaps can even be created – or destroyed. It is a universe of infinite variables.

     Under this construct, free will becomes a possibility because matter operates independently of physics. All things are free-wheeling through the universe, beholden to nothing because they have no creator. No computer, or god, could know the moment you will die.

     But the stakes of this fact are higher than that. Because if the universe is infinite, it is inherently chaotic. Science now is the illusion, because no act can be pre-determined based on the variable behind it because the variables are immeasurable.

     Math, physics, these become not cosmic truths but human inventions super-imposed upon the universe. They appear to work because they cleave out a set of variables and make predictions based on them, they are controlled experiments that shed no light on the way the universe actually works. Outside a laboratory, on the level that really matters, all things swim in a sea of chaos.

     We see patterns because we want to, they make us feel safe. There really are no shapes in the clouds, there really is no face in that plume of smoke. We limit what we believe to be possible because if the possibilities were limitless they would overwhelm us. In every moment we choose the world we see, and if we truly believed something to be true, it would be. Others may not see it that way, because they choose their own realities as well. Human nature is to not believe in miracles, even though they’ve happened before.

But wait, you say, physics work. The trajectory of a baseball can be determined by how it hits a bat, same with a mortar shell based on how it leaves the cannon. And absent other variables that would be true. But where that baseball lands depends on the athletic ability of the outfielders, and the wind, bugs, birds, the location of the sun, on and on infinitely. Whether that mortar hits its target depends on the same things, and whether that target moves.

     Does every object that rises fall? Look at the stars. Does every action have an equal and opposite reaction? Tell someone you love them, and see if the outcome is equal to the breath of uttering three words.

     So which is true? Is the universe finite or infinite. Do we have free will or are we ransom to fate?

     Either you have no choice in what you believe on this one fact, or the choice is yours to make.

Whispers and Shadows, Vol. 1: An Exquisite Corpse now on Amazon

If you've read Whispers and Shadows, Vol. 1: An Exquisite Corpse, please consider leaving a review on Amazon. Tell others what you have seen. The Amazon page is here (you can also see a preview of the book and buy a copy here):

http://www.amazon.com/Whispers-Shadows-Volume-Exquisite-Corpse/dp/1484062752

In the meantime, "start performing reality checks during the day, when you know you're awake, to get your mind into the habit of asking the question."

And if you do go down this road, be careful:

It has begun

Whispers and Shadows Volume I, an Exquisite Corpse. Is now available for purchase here: https://www.createspace.com/4154132?ref=1147694&utm_id=6026

Here is the description they provided:

Thomas Grey is a lucid dreamer who can't wake up. Or is he a high school math teacher abandoned by sanity? Or a prophet?

Whomever he is, he faces down demons of all types, traveling dreamspace, multiple dimensions and throughout the Etherea racing with a mysterious entity in his quest to find the archetypes under the threat that if he doesn't, his reality -- and yours -- could be destroyed.

This is either an aggressive literary project, a chronicle of a man's struggle with madness or metaphysical thesis. You may decide which.

The author's avant-garde style is reminiscent of Mark Z. Danielewski. The fantasticism reminds one of Neil Gaiman.

The story is truly his own.

“Mr. Sweigart, I must meet you for coffee.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Thomas Grey. I have a package. I need you to publish it.”

“What is it?”

“Prophesy, poetry and profanity. Mostly lies, and a handful of revelations. Riddles and ransom notes. You must help me. We must find the archetype. We must arm him or her. I will give you my book and you will publish it. You are now the keeper of the story.”

“Where are we?”

“This is your dream. Tomorrow. Meet me downtown. Where the sound of the saxophone meets the dissonance of the train. We must hurry. Your nightmares know your fears, and they are coming for you.”