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Is there anyone else here who is interested in Mara Barls spirituality? I have been following her for a little over a year now and consider myself somewhat of a Mara scholar at this point, like a historian for someone who is still alive, which is probably super creepy but whatever.
She started substacking earlier in 2021, collecting all of her posts into a journal as well as publishing some short essays. She recently published a "glossary of terms" which serves as somewhat of a shortcut to understanding whatever she's on about without having to derive it from context over a period of months as I had to.
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She likes .hack//Legend of Twilight which wins my respect regardless regardless of the necessity of esotericism. Though I can understand not wanting to expend the time. It does seem like it will take a lot of it for me to grasp what's going on here.
its not about respecting "theory" its about gawking at the mentally ill
it's not that simple. Mara Barl, Terry Davis, and other schizos are plugged into a different circuit of reality. touched by God. Existing on the forefront of epistemology, they see and hear things differently, make totally novel connections, produce and reproduce them in sensible articulations. The insights are free if you want to glean them.
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Well I read the new post and I've been chewing on it for a day. I'm ashamed to say I hadn't read anything but some comics and tweets before. Probably would have really benefited from being able to recognize the characters in the alignment chart. I've been seeing them all over. Whole thing makes much more sense now, even if I'm still filtered by the vocabulary. Shame it takes being unredeemable to be able to see. Wish I had made the effort to read her stuff before disconnection. Wish other people didn't make it seem like they were going to when they weren't. Maybe it's easy enough to recognize me that it doesn't matter. Regardless, I think it's really interesting the way she's dividing connection. I hadn't thought of it that way at all. I've only ever considered connection as a kind of intimate and mutual violation. Maybe connections of the flesh or through the void are different than the electromagnetic kind. I've certainly never gotten pinged in the face by something arriving in the post.  Well maybe I could now that USPS sends my daily email. I'll hold what's left of my tongue, because I definitely don't understand, but you can take this as my declaration that I'd like to. Though even if I had tried to read her work, I probably wouldn't have been able to find it interesting before the 31st anyway. If my surface level search engine perusal of astrology is worth anything, and I would hardly know yet I'm suddenly compelled to believe in it, Scorpio sun Aquarius moon insists on
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I can't lie, reading barl's substack makes me feel violently ill and for that reason i feel that she's onto something. more recently when she describes different connective forms as demonic/angelic patterns i'm understanding it as a way of flattening happenings in now-time. so when you have • that's a thing in itself, then •–• is a cause, 
1 – 2
|  /
is a cause-and-effect pattern (whichever elements are cause-and-effect depends on which way you look at it? e.g. 1-2 and 3, 1-3 and 2, 2-3 and 1), then
1 – 2
|  /   |
3 –  4
which is cause-effect (1-2-3) and an after-state (4).

Then reality is constructed as a network out of these forms. I get the sense reading a recent post that events are constructed non-linearly as well (effect can produce cause). 

>>the dream was this bleary white light, and this strange black/grey warbly ‘line’ would move from center, to left, to center, to right, to center — for years; years and years watching this line move in this white void
>>The network speaks to me. How could it not?
>>It could also be information impregnation; it could be that Boogiepop and Others was communicating my life to me by creating cause to explain this supernatural effect. The vein network injected “me being fried in a hot car as a child seeing boogiepop in a death dream” to explain me finding meaning in episode 10 of Boogiepop and Others in the present
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Going to keep this thread as somethign of a meditation journal for myself. generally I sit for around 45 minutes to an hour every morning right after I wake up. I am working my way up to an hour or more every day.

Since I've started meditating more seriously life has taken on a kind of claustrophobic feeling. I don't seem to actually exist, but I feel very strongly that I do -- sometimes I have little glimpses when I am sitting that the thoughts I involve myself with are actually just the way there can be any kind of feeling of "self". . . I get scared of being bored because I am scared of the sad feeling of there "not being anything". But when I actually allow myself to be bored I'm not sad at all. I feel things open up. But I am very scared to let things open up even though I have experienced that opening. Why is that? Why do I feel so compelled to fill up space with music and youtube videos about speedrunning history? So the daily activities I involve my-'self' in seem pointless, like I know they are pointless, I can see that they are pointless, there is no escape from this 'pointlessness', but when I actually acknowledge that and allow that, the feeling of "pointlessness" evaporates and there's just lots of space. But I'm always so afraid to make that leap. . .

So I suppose, if that's too long and you'd rather not read -- I am afraid of space - I know there can be space - I am afraid of allowing myself to have that space - I do all manner of things to fill that spac
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i don't know if it's made me any less impulsive though perhaps the impulses hit different than they once did. there's a little more room around everything
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When I manage to act, I could also benefit from less impulsivity. I'll try to be a bit more regular with my practice
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well I tend to sit every morning for 30 minutes to an hour every day at 2:00 PM UTC so if you sit then know that we're sitting together ^_^

Counting meditation is going well (i.e. it's developing) and I'm able to make it to 2-3 usually before I make thoughts for myself. In some ways it's really relieving to have such a mechanical practice after a long time of sitting and not being sure if I was 'doing it right' and having no teacher/no way to really know check in.
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so i noticed over the past few weeks how tense I get during meditation trying to keep myself focused on counting&breathing to the exclusion of any thoughts and I think given how relentlessly I seem to have thoughts this is the wrong approach.
now when I notice tensions i'll just notice them and let them soften w/o focusing on them. kind of like finding the bodily awareness i have when i'm falling asleep, only sitting up and with more alertness. so i have this feelign of constantly (slowly, inevitably) opening, letting go, unfolding.
I seem to have fewer thoughts and when they occur into my awareness i find it's easier to like. more palpably "let go" of them.
I wonder if that's a better approach?
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Things blew up last month so I didn't keep this journal the way I meant to but I've still practiced every day.

Most of the time during meditation I still find myself counting 1, then immediately going back to 1 as I'll notice I'm having thoughts (i.e. attaching to reference points) again. This really discouraged me but I'm told it's very common, and the point of this part of the practice is to become familiar with one's awareness. So, finding my awareness in thoughts, letting go of thoughts and then finding the presence of my awareness in counting for as long as there happen to be no thoughts IS the practice. I also try and extend the practice of stopping, letting go, letting there be space into the rest of my life, but it's hard to explain in words what that experience is like and I don't want to confuse myself by trying.

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Despite the sticky it seems there's only one thread here even really related to literature. A problem I think it might be worth my time to remediate today.

I recently finished Roadside Picnic. While reading I was particularly struck by the interplay of intelligence, technology, and their manifestation throughout the novel. The conversation between Noonan and Valentine and the last section where Red pursues the wish machine seem to be the key points around which these concepts pivot. 

To begin with Noonan asks what the zone itself is. Valentine states it is, quite simply, evidence that there is intelligent life besides us out in the universe. Given that the Zone itself represents the research and manufacture of technology, it can be taken for granted that intelligence itself is the piece of alien contact left with us in the roadside picnic. Intelligence as an instinct manifested in the interaction between individuals and their environment. An incomplete instinct which when completed would mean the death of the species if anything were to change, as it is a desire to persist through creation and mistakes. A festering impulse to never leave well enough alone, to always pick at the scabs, and to dive ourselves back into the zone. 
Next Noonan places a demand upon Valentine for the answer to a question which is two fold. First, how is it things will shake out as a result of the zone And Secondarily embedded with the question of what if anything is in the zone that could fundamentally change peoples lives; or restated, make it worth having gone in there in the first place. In true scientific fashion Valentine mystifies his dodge with the cloak of an attempted exactness. Something for which he can hardly be blamed given the expectation of certainty placed upon science, and their own conversation's unmasking of knowledge as a fleeting goal pursued by understanding which ultimately leaves it in the vicinity of religious belief. This becomes clear through their discussion of technology. Beginning with the concept of Newton having to attempt to understand a microwave, and progressing through the three distinctions of technology. 1. useful, things which can be applied, but are likely to be the equivalent of using a sledgehammer to crack a walnut. 2. Answers to questions we don't know how to ask. Bug traps/gravo concentrates fall into this category. They can be described through a series of equations, but they are not understood in the slightest and lack an application even if they were able to be replicated. 3. Unobserved objects. things that could easily be actualized and yet remain in the realm of speculation and legend. The conception of understanding as being in pursuit may be solidified in the statement "we've been digging through the zone for decades and hardly know what it contains". Valentine then adds a fourth group of effects: defined by being beyond human comprehension. Freak accidents, unexplainable yet verifiable correlations that evoke the conceptions of witchcraft and the supernatural. Events which are suppressed by the regional powers in the interest of protecting belief in the certainty provided by science and maintaining order. Actions which themselves suggest a bright and blinding action that scientism has upon our perception of the occult happenings which it denies.

Of course where are the answers in this to either aspect of Noonan's question?
While Valentine wont offer a conclusive answer to answer to either aspect, to the first he does suggest that it is possible that the way it ends is when we pull something out of the Zone that makes living completely unbearable. I suspect that this thing is also possibly the answer to the second aspect of Noonan's question as to whether or not there is something in there that could make going in worth it in the first place. I believe this object bridges both the third and fourth distinctions, with the differential aspect between salvation and damnation here being its' selected application. All of which will become clear as we explore the end section and the wish-sphere.

When Red ventures into the zone a final time it is to find a miracle. One which can restore his daughter, Monkey, to her former jovial and creative self. One which can return his father to his previous state before factory work destroyed him. Used him up, making him a zombie which is living but unreachable. In both cases he wishes the return of the cost which the pursuit of technology and manufacture in the zone took from him. Upon return he is finally willing to sacrifice someone to the grinder. Willing To sacrifice someone in whom, perhaps necessarily, he sees great potential in order to reach the wish sphere. Red selected his victim in the spirit of revenge. Revenge against Vulture. By choosing Vulture's son, Arthur, as the sacrifice Red intends to inflict upon him the pain of loss that so many others experienced at his hands. The repayment of pain Vulture inflicted upon them when he threw their loved ones into the grinder to get his own wishes. This human cost of the zone is of course the problem to begin with; it is what has led to the conditions which Red wishes to remediate.

Red can smell his own stink as he approaches his goal. It is the same stink as the factory which broke his father. The same stink as the Vulture and the worm like people who replicate his tactics. A horror which leads Red to reflect upon his own karmic position. More dubious now that he is on the decisive road of becoming decision maker. Red reflects on his own life, the choices he was compelled to make, his hatred of those who made the world this way, his desire to make sure to change every last stinking corner of it. Even as Red guides Vulture's son through the Zone he takes care to save him from multiple hazards in an automatic fashion, the way he would save family, and at great risk to himself. Unsurprisingly, despite a voiced commitment to objectify Arthur as sacrifice, when Red directs him into the grinder and he is promptly liquified, Red is filled with nausea and despair. Reaching for his liquor he finds, for once, no pleasure, only a medicine he must take in order to continue. As he approaches the golden sphere to make his wish he finds he has lost sight of what it is that he wanted. He is only capable of imagining what it is that he desires to change. The removal of the money, bottles, columns of numbers, piles of rags which used to be people reduced and used up only occupying the same status as things. He cannot remember what he was willing to make this sacrifice for, and wishes the destruction of every value he can imagine. He cannot, however, imagine what could be left if all of that was destroyed. In desperation he calls upon something beyond human comprehension in the sphere. Something that can look into him, see beyond the words he cannot find to say. The element within his soul which carries the answer to the desire he wishes to have fulfilled. Finally repeating the last words of Arthur as he entered the grinder: HAPPINESS, FREE, FOR EVERYONE, LET NO ONE BE FORGOTTEN. The promise Noonan is looking for Valentine to make to justify their going into the zone at all, as salvation from something as yet unobserved and beyond human comprehension. A product in the advancement of the intelligence-interaction itself. A machinic intelligence god which can transmute the negative ground of understanding, the will to nothingness, expressed by Red into an imagined future world providing another way of living, a new way of being, becoming something different.

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>>73 (OP) 
like you said, the zombies in roadside represent people ruined by work in service of manufacture. people made sick who are returned to their homes for their families to care for. a read  evidenced when red describes his childhood memories and relationship with his father. he would come home covered in soot then imbibe alcohol to compensate for the position his work put him in. red describes himself as hiding in the corner until his father had begun drinking, then it was safe for him to come out. something along the lines of "it was then ok to ask daddy who was burned up in the sulfur vats".  similar to the zombies in a certain sense red's daughter, monkey, is a mutant made unfit for society by the effects of the exploration of the zone. as the years go on she understands less and less, clearly representing how our monkey brain has a reduced capacity to understand the world as technology progresses. 
all of which is to say, I think you might be barking up the wrong tree here. this book is about the impossibility of utopianism, a disgruntled cry for preservation in a reality that cannot change. i think its a pretty big stretch to say that this book could be intended to evoke hope. much less hope derived from some kind perfected loving ai savior.
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You are without a doubt correct in the way you have interpreted the zombies here. I do take issue with the way you're explaining monkey however.
While it is the case that as the years go on she understands less and less, whether this withdrawal as a result of the ostracization brought on by her difference from others in society, or purely a result of her condition is somewhat unclear. I'm sure you'll recall Red observing the two women sitting on the park bench actively disapproving of Monkey as he was hiding out in his garage. As well as the plot point where Red is at odds with the authorities for assembling playground equipment in the park a way to bribe other parents to let monkey interact with their children. He says something like "but the other kids don't mind, they treat her as one of their own." iirc. Further the outward withdrawal itself could be viewed as an adaptation to the changing environment, worsened by the lack of understanding from her peers of course, but autism is highly correlated with interest in and aptitude at computer science for example. We also shouldn't forget about Vultures two children. While they are afflicted with the mutations that all stalkers children have, they don't suffer from the same withdrawal as Monkey. Red is open about his attraction to vultures daughter, and describes his son as being known as pretty boy. Taking the time to describe shame it is that Arthurs face is scarr
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interesting. i hadn't considered it that way. i'm not sure i agree, but i don't i really care to get into it either

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Give it up
Give up your game
Give up your schemes
Your thoughts insubstantial as mist
You have nothing to win
You have nothing to gain
You have nothing to lose
Give up your palace of thoughts
Give up your fixated ideas
Give up your obession and projection
Give up your hope
Give up your despair
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>>57 (OP) 
Thanks for just being honest I guess
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hear this:
if it is more to you than ceasing the ceaseless discharge of thought then you've overthought it
Cut down your overthinking
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OP is fixated on non-fixation
I'm sorry op but therevada is a trash lineage and sutrayana is objectively the worst vehicle

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Amphetamines make crazy and not care, and yet thoroughly invested in everything that's happening. Overly invested. Its always time to get shit done, amped and dancing, jamming things together, seeing what fits, but always so mean. Just a hair from anger. Everything is sharp. Razors rest on every surface including my own. Floating inside, outside, and on the surface; stimuli filters through them, spurs to make me go on. They make hate who I am and what I do, or rather what I've done. Intense violent force flows through, pulped liquid gush from which I can't help but collapse upon reflection. Angry and disinterested in anything that interrupts the blades I have become. At high speeds a slight drift toward death without caution. A bloody line scrawled and jittering askew of a goal. Barely eat for days. Barely sleep for weeks. Needing a kill and can barely stay on my feet. A few years of this in cocktail and we ran to a hole of isolation and numbness which we've maybe just now started escaping from.

Opiates are great. Nothing gets in. Nothing gets out. More than content to lay about. Nothing hurts and barely breathing, couldn't care if the whole world were seething. Weeks go by and I don't miss them. Never even heard of time. And then I'm awake again. Maybe better with a mix? you'll feel the blades a little less.

Tried DXM, but that one couldn't catch me. A cat on my chest for a minute was there for some hours. Everything I did I did again while doing something else. Everyt
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It has always been like this, modern society has just accelerated and made it more apparent.
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What exactly do you mean? Isn't the fact the process has accelerated and become more apparent a capitulation to the idea that it hasn't always been like this? With in the realm of work surely both the craftsman smithing tools for the farmers whom respectively plowed their fields in the middle ages were unconcerned with the possibility that their skills would be unmarketable in the near future. I doubt they even had our modern conception of markets at all. Infact the effect that the introduction of canals had on interpersonal relations of farmers in the northeast united states is well documented. Their introduction drastically changed the way people dealt with each other as production became oriented around access to canals as a way to bring produce to markets in the cities, where it had previously been enough to exchange with the locals. Before canals you could pluck an apple off your neighbor's tree with little consequence. After their introduction that act was treated as theft. But never in this shift are the relevance of the farmers skills in question. 
Though perhaps you're concern is the plight of the craftsman. Most of whom over generations were pushed into a kind of low skill work in factories and labourers on said canals with market relations with the self as commodity, which strikes me as something entirely new.
Of course there were and are still skilled professions, but they seem to have shifted towards 
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Sorry anon, I don't really remember what I meant back then, probably.

I think I was thinking about it in terms of evolution... rather than in terms of people. 

Every generation of life is made to survive the world that it's predecessors lived in, even though the world their parents lived in and the one they live in might seem the same, but it can only be different. The natural mutations of evolution just hide that change, through the normalization of death. 

When the environment outpaces evolution's correctional errors, that's what we usually call a mass extinction. For humanity, this threshold has not yet been touched, because humanity doesn't just rely on genetic evolution, but also cultural evolution (which can also be passed down). Sure, people will suffer because they've never been in such a situation before, but it was also the same when people discovered agricultural, or writing. The human consciousness is made to be malleable, though it might have evolved to best suit the culture of the previous era by precoding some habits, a sudden change of culture has happened before. What will ensue is most likely what has happened before, the extinction of the previous generation and the emergence of a kind of people who can deal with this kind of rapid change. If nothing substantial changes to society in the next few centuries (we'll see). Genetics will most likely catch up in the form of a more fluid brain, 
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That makes a lot more sense. Mass extinction sounds pretty unpleasant even though you're talking mid to long term here. I suppose there are things we can do to help develop/maintain curiosity and more fluid brains even in the current generation. Here's hoping we have what it takes to pass through the filters.
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I am sure all shall be well anon!

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and why do I long for it?
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>>42 (OP) 
careful what you wish for

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Shouldn't that be 0th? 0st? Nilst?
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>>2 (OP) 

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