In my time
i've thrown away stuff I later found to be what I really always wanted and needed
In my time
I've also held on to stuff I thought I knew I couldn't live without
It's perhaps the curse of youth,
that it does not know enough  
yet it has the energy, passion and lack of restraint to push through a mistake or a perfection
if it's a perfection in question, then perfect
if a mistake, then terrible
it is therefore a time for caution
a time to leave all the possibilities revisitable
but, then, life often calls on us to make a firm choice
or does it? 
if it does, we must put off heeding its call for as long as possible
if it doesn't, we musn't force it to

For love is especially treacherous
at least 'love' as ordinarily defined
it comes and goes at its own behest
but it greatly serves those that tame it
those who say to it:
i see you
you're here
i know you're hard to truly find
so i'm going to keep you

But I've seen folks let it elude them
let it play peek-a-boo with them
in my time.    

Lately I've been thinking about conviction: the phenomenon, the feeling, the concept, the energy ..... There is plenty of ways in which to consider the power of fervent and intense belief and persuasion.

We'll however have to postpone a proper treatment of the subject to some other time.

I just thought to let you in on one of the things that have been cooking.

GENESIS still owes everyone the unveiling of our ground-breaking and, hopefully, seminal, Mathematical Love Chart. 
It's a debt GENESIS remembers and will settle. 

Bye for now, though...

...next time, soon.   
  

I know that we promised to produce a Mathematical Love chart. That is still in the works, no doubt; but, today, I want to talk about barbarism. Typically, it carries a somewhat new meaning in the context we are about to construct.
Let's start with a few questions.
Have you ever reached that point in your emotions where nothing carries any meaning for you? 
That point where all the things that you have been socially conditioned to care about become pointless.

Governments. What's the point of that? Nobody cares for anybody, anyway. Society is an illusion perpetuated and perpetrated for the benefit of those who have annexed the instruments of coercion. Is this a Marxist sentiment? Probably; but Socialist or Communist societies are themselves a Marxist illusion, promoted and protected by those whose relevance are tied to the survival of the socialist/communist state. So there is nothing worth believing in.

How about Religion? Pleeeeeaaaaaase! everybody dies, anyway. What's the point of knowing where we are from, what we are doing here, and where we are going? It's all a vain pursuit; those who undertake it lay down and die at some point, just as those who don't. Heaven and Hell. What's the point of that? everlasting enjoyment and everlasting damnantion. Yes, but culminating in what? Everlasting enjoyment is a rather attractive prosepct, no doubt. But its meaning only lies in its contrast to everlasting suffering. Aside of that, what else; yes, what ['intrinsically'] else?
 
You could go on and on; family, love, money, life, death .... everything!

But the more you tear them down, the more you unfurl your nakedness. So you hang on to the thread-illusions that have woven your life. You hang on to the threads; they're your clothing. 

So, then, the 'illusion' is the clothing.
But it doesn't always satisfy. It doesn't satisfy at points when you feel so ... so ... so low.
...when you feel low enough to get too high for your own good.
When you get too high, your genitals will be exposed.
Now, what's the point of even that? 
Well, you discover you're naked; you seek your clothes; they're encased in the illusions that earlier did not satisfy; you gain entrance and once again enjoy the cosiness of your clothes; you venutre out soon again, dis-satisfied; you sense your genitals are on display; you come back in for your clothes. And on and on and on and on. You're stuck on a bloody circle. Someone's playing games with you. Or maybe it's your lot. Or maybe both: it's your lot for someone to be playing games with you. Tricky, that!
Give it thought; or, better still, don't: it's not healthy. Or do, but don't. Ah, what the heck, figure it out for yourself.
Let everyone carry his own cross and ... do his best not to go insane.
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ...    



Keep your clothes on ...      

The notion of Mathematical Love is a counter theory to the idea that love is some magical, inexplicable feeling that sweeps away people even when they do not want it to. Mathematical love argues that perfect erotic love is actually an aggregate of several pockets of compatibility; each pocket being a product of the practical needs of the 'lovers'. So if, for example, I need a listening ear and a girl has one, then that's one pocket of compatibility; if I like home cooking, and providing home cooking comes naturally to a certain girl, that's another pocket. Same rule also goes for sexual and conversational compatibility. Of course, the items or pockets are in scales of preference that vary in nature from person to person. And each person has some fundamental pockets that are just non-negotiable. Mathematical love argues that the love of magic and telepathy overrates just one pocket of connection; presumably because that pocket plays itself out in a human being's biochemistry (I mean actual biochemistry in pure science). It consequently is quite powerful to flesh and blood, and thus intoxicating. The evidence that a notion of love, which is built on this 'magical' biochemistry, is actually faulty, lies in the countless love affairs that have failed. You hear things like: the love faded; the love ended.... Some people respond by saying, agape love is the one that lasts; but, heck!, agape love is a different thing entirely. It can back up erotic love, but it cannot substitute it.

GENESIS plans on drafting a Mathematical Love Chart, with which anyone can rate real and specific ongoing, erstwhile or desired 'love' connections. 

 ...till next time.

  

Yesterday, reference was made to the definition and destiny of GENESIS. Of course, it was just a fancy way of saying 'it's such and such that we'll be on about on this blog from now on'.

Actually, we'll be on about everything; but we'll be on about them in a molecular and, therefore, formulaic manner. To put it simply, we seek origin-al wisdom on everything. This wisdom can rightly be called fresh and inventive; but that's not the main point. The essential idea is the 'beginning and origin' of things. To undersatnd things at this level, they have got to be broken down to their smallest indivisible shreds. Each shred is then understood in itself, before the relationship between the parts is analysed. Such an approach should ordinarily do two things: firstly, it should provide fresh insight on the subject being studied; secondly, it should provide a new formula for navigating the said subject. Hence the earlier claims as to 'molecular' and 'formulaic'.

The above approach is, in itself, a formula. Our Mother Formula, so to speak. It might be more elegant to call the Mother Formula 'GENESIS tools'.

So let's apply GENESIS-tools to a subject of common interest, so as to evaluate both its nature and worth in practice.

The subject of 'erotic love' seems a good place to start.
'Erotic' is a necessary adjective, because 'erotic' is how we mean; not 'agape', not 'filial'. Red-hot, stark, nude and unabashed erotic love is how we mean. The stuff of hit-songs, hit-films, hit-books and literal/figurative hit-and-run true stories in real neighbourhoods.

You know, the stuff that your mum and dad had, and then lost, and now have laminated in a self-comforting farme of cynical talk about the realism that comes with maturity. Let's break love down. What is it, really?

GENESIS finds that if you break love down, using GENESIS-tools, you'll come up with both a formula and a result that can be called 'Mathematical love'

We'll treat Mathematical Love in our next issue ...

...Tomorrow, maybe.

Welcome ...

                         

So GENESIS is back. Born again, in a literal Nicodemus sort of way. It went right back into its mother, merged and disappeared into the womb lining and waited for mum to meet someone new. Mum eventually did; so here we are: a new improved baby.
This baby was me, but now is a lot more; believe me, a lot ... lot more.
To begin with, GENESIS has a lot more Authors on board and it, therefore, has a separate identity and life of its own. My baby's leaving home and I'm proud.
The new GENESIS has a definition and an interesting destiny.
We'll share this next time. Tomorrow, maybe.

Welcome ...