Journals of Lord Malinov

the poetry of madness

proved

I was working through Euclid's Elements, proof by proof.  Even in basic geometry, there are required leaps of faith. 

I am, but who can say what I am?
I was, but none can say what I was.

M

posted by: Malinov at 16:01 | link | comments (3) |

tension

We can't exist in a state of constant tension.

Waves.

Expression within tension.

White space oscillations.

I have a tendency to confuse concept with action.  Once an idea is conceptualized, execution typically requires reduced creativity. 

However, the devil is in the details.

Adaptations are growth.  Growing is living.  Thou art God.

God created humanity because God loves stories.  So the story goes, anyway.  Praise be the Lord.

I have been reading the Gnostic Gospels and other ancient documents.  Fascinating bits of history, they is.  It is said the Gospel of Thomas - Christ aphorisms - predates the canonical gospels.  Jesus spake with Buddha on his tongue.  I don't know why the Nicenes didn't include the document in the canon.  Every answer creates dozens of questions.  There is always plenty to learn.

I decided to learn something about Islam and have been making my way through an overview.  Once more, answers beget questions.

I have been deep in thought.  Speaking with the Buddha, as they say.  I have come to understand many things.  answers beget questions

the struggle continues unabated as always

same as it ever was

God laughs at people like us

Malinov

posted by: Malinov at 15:22 | link | comments (2) |

spins

I spent my first campaign in Capital City - the big wheel - DC - learning a strange religion of elemental conspiracy.

I have been writing since I was a child.  I had the interesting experience of having my journals, letters, stories, poems and novels submitted to a forensic psychologist.  We call him Zapp.  My eX developed the interesting idea that my journals proved I was a dangerous psychopath.  It would have been more interesting if I showed any psychopathic traits in my writing, other than an obvious affinity for lyrical sexuality.  There shall be no hemlock in my appertif, for I have been declared officially not dangerous to youth.  Not particularly dangerous, anyway.  No more dangerous than your typical human male.

History has persuaded me that we - men - are now and have always been expendible.  That's why we kill each other, for any and every reason.  Too many men isn't good for anyone, socially speaking.  Excess men turn into marauders.

The eX is rapidly losing the children.  I would never have imagined she would self-destruct in such a spectacular way.  I wonder if she regrets dumping me for a moron.  Che sera.

My writings bit her in the ass, giving me respect rather than psychopath.  She still has two boxes of original manuscripts in her possession.  Unfortunately, she is stupid enough to be cruel and destroy twenty years work.  So it goes.

I should have thought of that before I attacked Russia, n'cest pas?

Rolling,

M

posted by: Malinov at 13:11 | link | comments (2) |

aspirations

We aspire and we respire. Perhaps there is some fundamental truth hidden within this connection. Perhaps sense can be made of the rolling chaos. The portfolio grows explosively. Twenty years of studying the most valuable of documents has given me insights - with perspectives that no one else can fully appreciate - that provide our goldiamond mine. Our initial holdings will affect the course of major industries for decades to come. I have already fixed my place in history. Now to give the story some twists . . . I am going to build replicas of some of the ancient monuments. I'm not going to tell anyone why I'm building them. M.

posted by: Malinov at 11:57 | link | comments (3) |

Inge

One of the women I worked with many years ago called tonight.  She's a patent litigator and wants me to testify as an expert witness.  A few hours of research and I'll get a flight to Oregon on somebody else's dime.  This is living.  This is life.  This is elegance by the mile.

Oh, the posh, posh travelling life, the travelling life's for me

but he wants it to fly!!!

My GSR biofeedback device has been teaching me awesome powers.  I am growing, strong.

We are the beautiful.  It's going to be a beautiful night.

M.

posted by: Malinov at 21:32 | link | comments (1) |

gaps

I often leave entire clauses out of sentences.  I do most of my writing in my head and transcribe from memory.  ADD keeps my brain hopping, so I don't notice that my fingers fell behind my mental dictation.

ADD means suffering from unavoidable memory lapses.  We don't actually forget.  We are continually and uncontrollably distracted.   We lose our way.

People who think ADD can be controlled are deluded.  It can be reined.  It can be used.  We will always have weaknesses - we need allies to survive - but we have strengths that give humanity a future.  Ultimately, they need us more than we need them.

Dollar books - how can I possibly resist? 

The weekend begins.  Rock on.

M

posted by: Malinov at 16:14 | link | comments |

stoned

There are still many, many people living a stone-age existence.  These people have some contact to modern society, but only a few hundred years ago, isolated stone-age nomads were still common.

I asked myself, "why did these cousins remain in the stone-age?"

I think the principal obstacle is the development of agriculture sufficient for year-round supply.  Some environments are poorly suited to any kind of farming.  For the rest, the failure to establish a fixed-location food supply, forcing a nomadic hunter-gatherer existence.  Of course, sometimes this develops when the prey are in such abundance that alternatives are never considered.  Luxury stunts growth.

get more - desire less

A year's supply of harvest means storage which means a fixed location which means keeping artifacts which means archives of writing which generates technological development.  Since nomads typically travel extensively, they were bound to encounter new ideas.  Without a tangible means to communicate these new ideas, anything that wasn't immediately adopted was quickly forgotten.

necessity is the mother of invention

I have been bothered, realizing that one of my obstacles is a lack of respect for my father.  Our feelings for same-sex parents can be highly reflected in our self-image.  He has lived his life in the throws of untreated ADD and anxiety, bravely battling but crazy with a constant overestimation of danger and hyperconservative avoidance of panic.  I understand it all too well, recognizing his patterns in myself early on my path to enlightenment.  I knew that I could not walk the same path he had taken.  I search for better ways.

He will never see the need to relax his attitude.  Last summer, he was struck by lightning.  Later, a deer struck his windshield.  Despite his caution, the Universe seems determined to put him to the test.  He remains strong and basically unhurt.  Go figure.  He and Mom have become square dancing fools.  I'll bet that's a sight to see.

I have realized that I have a great deal of unexpressed hostility for my parents.  They were nineteen when I was born and I seem to have been thrust into maturity to counter my father's immaturity.  It isn't a hostility I need to act on - just the fits of an inner child who feels cheated and abused. 

History and genetics have taught me that we are truly little more related to our parents than we are to any member of homo sapiens.  We are all cousins - our race wars are Cain and Abel - one brother jealous of another.

Cain was a farmer.  Always keep an eye on farmers.  I'm from Kansas.  I know of what I speak.

We are the children of every human being that preceded us.   We are humanity.

The ultimate question - can we survive the onslaughts of Mother Earth?  She is not always friendly.  The Universe has frequently conspired to reduce life on this planet to microorganisms.   The true test of our species will be our ability to adapt to an ever-changing future.  Growth is everything.

The kids rejoin me for the weekend.  It will be an emotional rollercoaster, as always, but I am rarely happier that spending hours with them.  The divorce has granted me the chance to be a first-rate father.  Their brilliance is inspiring.  I have sired greatness.  How could I not be proud of that legacy?

Enjoy,

Malinov

posted by: Malinov at 11:32 | link | comments |