Having my way with Ulysses

Tan his breech well, the upstart! Write the stars and stripes on it!

Three Most Excellent Masters you Must have been, or thus far you could not have come; but farther you cannot go without my words, sign, and word of exhortation. My words are Shem, Japhet, and Adoniram; my sign is this: (thrusting his hand in his bosom); it is in imitation of one given by God to Moses, when He commanded him to thrust his hand into his bosom, and, taking it out, it became as leprous as snow. 11:53 pm

He came after me, his hand hidden but I could see quite clearly it was at its own game.  He spoke with his bloody mouth like some high priest and I’m supposed to kneel before him. And he revealed himself to me! But I didn’t listen to him. My blood will not be wooed by the grace of language and gesture, muchibus thankibus no! I am not to be soul transfigured no matter how soul transfiguring he might pretend to be. I deserve to live, deserve to live! He’s horny and terrible and does not deserve the benefit of the doubt. I say chastise him, spank him, geld him, and ride him! He ought to have his head couped at the neck.  He’s a pigdog and always was.

Seems a long way off.

The strain on the mind is formidable; the element of time drops out of one's consciousness altogether: the building hand gropes for a pawn in the box, holds it, while the mind still ponders the need for a foil or a stopgap, and when the fist opens, a whole hour, perhaps, has gone by, has burned to ashes in the incandescent cerebration of the schemer. The chessboard before him is a magnetic field, a system of stresses and abysses, a starry firmament.

No-one is anything.  I am a ghost.  Well, I haven’t died yet, no need to look at me as if my mind is off in some happy hunting ground somewhere.  I mean I have moved to an atemporal state without ever having died.  This is not resurrection, not metempsychosis.  I have translated.  You’ve done this too, occasionally.  You’ve lost track of time, before, yes?  That can happen when your world speeds up, when so much is happening that the whirlwind around you speeds time forward until you say you were so busy, had so much fun, were so distracted with it all, there was so much, so much, that time took flight.  This is not translation.  Translation comes from a deliberate slowness.  A stretching of the nothingness between full moments.  A pulling apart of discreet events until you inhabit the eventlessness between.  Time cannot reach you there.  Try it again, you’ve done it before.  You might make it happen for short spaces of time, short times of space with practice.  Like a muscle, the more you use it, the more supple, the more pliant.  Begin by cultivating your vision.  Practice seeing without seeing:  use your unseeing eye.  It helps to develop an idée fixe.  Find something with symbolic power.  For me it is chess.  Ah chess.  It contains the entire universe.  All of being and non-being, ever facet of the soul and the spaces between the facets beautifully composed onto 64 white and black squares.  I found chess in America.  I went after an American war to purchase land cheap, thinking I would grow cotton.  Instead I grew peaches.  Peach trees need little care.  Plant them, they blossom, then they grow.  Then peaches.  All they ask is we permit their becoming by staying clear of their being.  Then one harvest and endless solitude.  While my trees grew in Alabama I went to Atlanta and played chess.  The beauty, the harmony, of Zarathustra’s great invention!  In chess our adversaries move according to our moves, and we to them.  We form a helix coiling in a beautiful deadly dance, a rhythm of infinite possibilities.  64 squares, 8 X 8, infinity times infinity.  8 is the number of judgement.  And 64, 6+4=10, the perfect number.  The first triangular number to have a center, and the only one whose center is half of its total.  Balance.  GOD MEND THINE EVERY FLAW!  A onelegged sailor with an idée fixe crutched angrily, translating himself from the sidewalk into a jagged alley.  CONFIRM THY SOUL IN SELF CONTROL!  Symmetry.  The number of the soul.  10 represents the wheel of destiny and of retribution.  This is the number that governs returns, reincarnation, transmigration, metempsychosis, and most especially translation.  Judgement in delicious tango with destiny.  Ponder it, hang your gaze over a chessboard, and you can translate into a ghostbright existence where nothing is wanting, nothing is required, and the only fear is the hell of dreaded stalemate.  And the joy!  The joy of creation!  Each game a new universe.  Each chess problem (oh the composition of chess problems!) a microcosm of temporal harmony.  Each piece on the board a representative of stillness and force.  I left America, and the glorious atemporality I found there, to become a politician in support of my younger brother.  I was his pawn in a greater cause.  We are all pawns in a greater cause.  Just what is the cause, well that is not the pawn’s business.  Pawn’s have to earn their power, to kill, to rule as Queen; that is the glory of being a pawn.  Most remain powerless.  We serve our purpose quietly, in a waking sleep, then translate to the side to await our next use.  The halls of government contain chess rooms and in my political service to my brother I played chess.  I spoke on record 13 times in five years.  My brother hated and feared the number 13 although I found it immensely satisfying to open my mouth and make 13 utterances, speak questions I didn’t care to have answered, and then stop altogether.  I played chess.  I play chess.  I thought to master it and instead learned that my salvation, my translation to the infinite, comes when chess masters me.  Elijah is coming!  Elijah, a crumpled throwaway, sails closer to the three masters, bound to its translation.

It seems to me

9:24 am

What are you doing?  Me?  Oh, I’m typing.  Right now I am typing.  I am typing now.  Here, you see?  You can’t see.  But what are you doing right now?  Listen, I don’t know your now.  I can’t know it.  Nobody can and you can’t know mine.  Picture us together.  Go ahead.  No, not like that, sheesh!  Picture us together standing in a field.  We are standing and we see two bolts of lightning strike simultaneously one on the left horizon and one on the right horizon but a bit in front too so we can see them strike down at the same TIME HOLY SHIT GET DOWN!  That was close.  Did you feel that?  Did you feel it?  Ok, now rewind, the same lighting strikes are going to happen but this time we are going to stand next to one of them.  I know, I know.  Trust me.  Ok, now we are standing next to where one of them will hit and here IT COMES HOLY FUCKING CHRIST!  That was too close.  Sorry.  You ok?  You sure?  OK.  And look fast over there, the other lightning strike.  Did you see it?  5 seconds I’d say.  Those were the same ones (we rewound, remember?) but they are not simultaneous anymore because it took time for the light from that lightning strike over there to reach us over here.  Ok, so why did I drag you out into this field and nearly kill you?  Sorry again by the way, truely.  Because I wanted you to see for yourself that simultaneity is relative depending on our position.  The now of any event, typing for me and whetever it is that you are doing now (reading I presume, and whatever else you are doing.  I’m looking at you sunshine.)  You can’t know any now moment unless you know where and how fast.  Can any now moment be objective?  Don’t answer that.  It can’t.  It is relativity my dear, it’s relative.  And without objective now moments, how can we have such things as lapses of time?  Don’t answer that either.  We can’t.  If there is no absolute now dividing before from after, then no part of succession can have objective status.  Do you see where I’m going?  When I am going?  If successive moments in time depend on our frame of reference, whether we are standing here or there say, the moment we call now cannot be a feature of reality unto itself.  Relativity, you see.  Causality is gone.  Nothing can be said to cause anything now that the now has become so slippery, so protean.  Hume says causality is a fiction of the mind, Kant says that the only knowable objective world is a product of the mind, Einstein says successive time is our most persistant illusion.  I say this means that we have no free will.  But don’t ask me, let’s ask God.  Hey God.  God.  GOOOOD!

God [appears in a thunderclap]:  What do you want I’m busy.

No you’re not.  Don’t you exist in eternity?  You can’t need time to do things if you have all of it.

God:  Ok, you got me.  I was bluffing.  So what do you want?  And before you ask, I am not getting anyone to sleep with you and I don’t care if your team wins.  Conflicts of interest, you understand.  You see the bind I’d be in if everybody asks for opposite things.  So hurry up, what do you want?

A question, oh lord, supreme one, heavenly father, mother of heaven, holiest of holies, most beneficient

God:  Skip the filler, just get to it, cut to the chase, come on, I haven’t got all day.  Figures of speech, mind you.

Do you know everything?

God:  Yes.  Duh.  You got me here so at least ask me something challenging.

Well, if you know everything, then you know everything that has happened and you know everything that is going to happen.  You know all the past and all the future.

God:  Yes, I know everything that is a part of everything.  Yawn.

So if you already know everything that is going to happen, then everything we are ever going to do is already done, decided for us.  Written down in advance.

God: Yup.

Do we have free will?

God [blushing]:  Oh!  Shit.  Didn’t expect you to ask that question.  Well I did, but.  Uh. Um.  Yeah.  Yeah.  You have free will.  Sure.  Why wouldn’t you have free will?  You have it.  You have lots of it.  Yeah.  Um.  Anyway.   I hear sombody calling me.  My phone.  That’s my phone.  Got to take that call.  Coming!

[Exeunt]

I have no free will.  I am a servant to three masters, a woman for whom I would not kneel, a church for whom I will not kneel, and a third for whom I ask others to kneel, although mostly I have to take care of those jobs myself.