[r.p.bibra]

Originally Posted by Graybeard Dip ... I am not sure I know what you mean ? Rajinder ... Excellent post. To use but one example in your post: Your contention that the Physical Sciences can explain radio waves emitted by TV broadcasts here on Earth which travel thru space in a physical sense forever. Therefore they must also travel (and exist) in a form of non-aligned consciousness. That is, someone receiving them, would have their own physical chemistry, their memory banks, altered by the information contained in the physical broadcast according to the information recorded by transmitters. In effect, Communication is Consciousness, and that communication can contain a level of information not even available to the communicants, who pass it forever on until it reaches one who can access this information. Have I got it right? Comment on this analogy -- There was once an english scientist, a communications expert, who had in a cage a rare Indian bird. The scientist was going to India to expose certain fakirs who were making claims that they could communicate over vast distances using telepathy. The scientist was very fond of the bird. He asked the bird if there was anything that it wanted while he was away, and within reason, the scientist would grant it. The bird requested its freedom. The scientist refused but told the bird he would grant any lesser wish. The bird requested the scientist to travel to a certain place in the Punjab, and there to a certain forest, and in that forest, which was the birds original home, to announce to all the birds there, who were his relatives, details of his imprisonment. The scientist, though saddened by the request, agreed to do this. After many months, having exposed all the fakirs, the scientist returned. He warned the bird that he had some very bad news for him. He had gone to the forest and did as the bird had requested. Immediately one of the birds relatives, with a loud cry, had fallen from high in a tree. It was dead before it reached the ground. When the bird heard this news, it to, uttered a loud cry and fell dead in the bottom of the cage. The scientist, greatly upset, because he had been very fond of this bird, removed the body and placed it on the rubbish bin. Immediately the bird revived and flew to a nearby tree. "How so", said the scientist, "whats this" "Now you know," said the bird, "that communication is not a physical transmission alone. You, who were unconscious of what you carried, bought to me my means of freedom, given to you by my relative in the forest in the Punjab" The bird flew off to India. He was not very fond of the Scientist! But Rajinder ... my argument is this, the Bird couldn't have done it without the Scientist. Perhaps we are all in this together. cool bananas ... greg

Dear Greg, when you were in India if you had spent some time with mother Teresa, and had also visited Punjab to have the first hand 'feel' of Nanak's land, there might have been a different cloak worn by our brother Greg, a cloak of love and & compassion, not of 'atheism' about which he knows nothing. You may not be aware about the philosophy of Advaita (non-dualism), which is pure logic and a feast for the so-called atheists. So for as ancient Indian thought is concerned, its highest elevation ends in the realization of Supreme-Truth, not in 'knowing' some deity sitting in heaven! Already enough has been said and a lot of tasteless fossils (or cool bananas) received! Goodbye for now friend. Be happy in life.with love&regards.ls

[austintorn@aol.com]

... there might have been a different cloak worn by our brother Greg, a cloak of love and & compassion, not of 'atheism' about which he knows nothing.

From what I've seen, our brother Greg shows plenty of compassion in his posts, nor does it seem that he knows nothing about athesim. He just wonders, perhaps, how someone can know so much about creation (by just saying this is so) when we are still working and progressing on what's created. Also seems to me that anyone's atheism does not stand in opposition to good human qualities like love and compassion. Were you mad about anything when you wrote this?

[r.p.bibra]

Originally Posted by austintorn@aol.com From what I've seen, our brother Greg shows plenty of compassion in his posts, nor does it seem that he knows nothing about athesim. He just wonders, perhaps, how someone can know so much about creation (by just saying this is so) when we are still working and progressing on what's created. Also seems to me that anyone's atheism does not stand in opposition to good human qualities like love and compassion. Were you mad about anything when you wrote this?

Sound has as one of quality of resound, as action has that of reaction; in case your comment of madness is not received it will resound back to you. With all the education, how you people demean yourself. ls knows the underlying meaning of his (BROTHER Greg) analogies about 'Black Hole of Calcutta'.and Punjab. Do you? Where is gone your sensitivities, OMAR Khyyam & all? It is very easy to depict only negative sides of a country or situation, but very difficult when faced with the same? When visiting states, do we ever refer to Harlem or the very valuable literature and means of entertainment the western countries export to third world countries (what a loving names we are called with), in the form of pornographic books and video films? All in the name of freedom! Yes, the ls is mad about decency in behavior and expects the same in return. Regards.ls.

[Graybeard]

Dear Austin .... thank you muchly for very kind words.

Dear Rajinder ... My reference to the Punjab was not derogatory, the opposite. I was trying to define a level of 'shared consciousness' over and above the individual. The same as Ants know nothing of the 'Ant Colony', there is a level of knowledge, which we transmit, but in the main are unaware of individually. I was suggesting that you and I might disagree between Atheism and Theism but there is a shared knowledge between us.

As for my reference to the 'black hole' ... the day I mentioned it, it really was the anniversary of that incident. I understand completely how courageously India fought for its independence, as we have discussed, and you well know my opinions on this. The black hole is an event in history, it occurred, and many worse things have occurred before and since then. I only made a single historical reference to it. There was no slight intended, but if you should think there was then I apologise right now.

kind regards ... greg

[r.p.bibra]

brother Greg:Austin has rightly observed elsewhere "No hard fellings—please stay calm—me, too, as well—I know some people can be abrupt and dismissive, when their “little self” shames them, as Deepak says—but we are both full of love and compassion—this quality seemingly having nothing to do with beliefs of origin of everything that is". Whatever our beliefs (ls has no preconceived beliefs!), nationality or race may be, there shall never be any sort of unpleasantness on account of these narrow 'visions'. same love&regards.ls

[dipayankar]

I mean, in Science everything needs to be proven. Else we cannot consider that in the realm of Science..

Originally Posted by Graybeard Dip ... I am not sure I know what you mean ? Rajinder ... Excellent post. To use but one example in your post: Your contention that the Physical Sciences can explain radio waves emitted by TV broadcasts here on Earth which travel thru space in a physical sense forever. Therefore they must also travel (and exist) in a form of non-aligned consciousness. That is, someone receiving them, would have their own physical chemistry, their memory banks, altered by the information contained in the physical broadcast according to the information recorded by transmitters. In effect, Communication is Consciousness, and that communication can contain a level of information not even available to the communicants, who pass it forever on until it reaches one who can access this information. Have I got it right? Comment on this analogy -- There was once an english scientist, a communications expert, who had in a cage a rare Indian bird. The scientist was going to India to expose certain fakirs who were making claims that they could communicate over vast distances using telepathy. The scientist was very fond of the bird. He asked the bird if there was anything that it wanted while he was away, and within reason, the scientist would grant it. The bird requested its freedom. The scientist refused but told the bird he would grant any lesser wish. The bird requested the scientist to travel to a certain place in the Punjab, and there to a certain forest, and in that forest, which was the birds original home, to announce to all the birds there, who were his relatives, details of his imprisonment. The scientist, though saddened by the request, agreed to do this. After many months, having exposed all the fakirs, the scientist returned. He warned the bird that he had some very bad news for him. He had gone to the forest and did as the bird had requested. Immediately one of the birds relatives, with a loud cry, had fallen from high in a tree. It was dead before it reached the ground. When the bird heard this news, it to, uttered a loud cry and fell dead in the bottom of the cage. The scientist, greatly upset, because he had been very fond of this bird, removed the body and placed it on the rubbish bin. Immediately the bird revived and flew to a nearby tree. "How so", said the scientist, "whats this" "Now you know," said the bird, "that communication is not a physical transmission alone. You, who were unconscious of what you carried, bought to me my means of freedom, given to you by my relative in the forest in the Punjab" The bird flew off to India. He was not very fond of the Scientist! But Rajinder ... my argument is this, the Bird couldn't have done it without the Scientist. Perhaps we are all in this together. cool bananas ... greg

[austintorn@aol.com]

[austintorn@aol.com]

Old Autumn


{The glowworms, fairy stars come down to ground,
Gleam the shadowy woods through summer’s round;
Then, fall’s leaves flutter through the quiet air,
The autumn being the sunset of the year.}

{The rustling of the trees comes to my ear,
In this, the most mellow time of year.
The harvest brings fulfillment, yearning, too,
For autumn is both a smile and a tear.}


Each year, in October, Jack-in-the-Green
Has a chilled rendezvous with Old Autumn,
Who colors the leaves that Jack made verdant
A season ago. They meet out in the woods—

Although never in the same place, for seasons
Come and go and meet each other as they may.
This year Old Autumn was a little late,
So Jack-in-the-Green sat down on a stump.

Jack pondered his disappearing green youth,
For someday he would have to take Autumn’s place
And perform all of his withering tasks…
A few days later Old Autumn came by—

And gave unto Jack a cheery greeting
And a warm embrace that marked summer’s end.
He gazed fondly at Jack, his younger self,
And saw the vitality that was once his—

And said, “Once I was young; once I was you!”
“I know,” said Jack, “Do you remember how
I refused to believe it, saying ‘no’?”
“Yes,” remembered Old Autumn, “very well,

Like the time I met the Old Man, Winter,
On a snowy December day long ago.
He told me that he was my older self—
But I didn’t believe him! Told him off!

True, I was already feeling my age,
But, after seeing the old white-haired geezer,
I felt young again! Yes, he knew my name.”
“Yes,” said Jack, “so I made a little poem:

When younger, I knew not my elder same,
But when older, I told my younger same
That youth must be young—he knew not my name!
It was my younger self that was to blame!”

Swallows twittered in the skies as sprightly
Jack-in-the-Green picked a ripening gourd
And gave it to Old Autumn, who encouraged,
“You won’t have to meet the Old Man until

You take my place, for only I can see him
After I take down the last of the oak leaves.
For now, the Old Man sends but his errand boy,
Jack Frost, your twin brother. Hi ho, here he comes!

Aye, young Jack, this is the rarest of days,
For the three of us can be together
But once a year on this bright day / cool night.”
“The Old Man is so lonely, is he not?”

Asked Jack-in-the-Green, “for he sees only you.”
“Yes. Old Man Winter lives cold and alone—
He never sees the fair maidens of spring
Who reinvent the natural world each year.”

There is a chill in the air as Jack Frost arrives
And sings out a greeting: “Hello my brother!
Hello Old Autumn! It’s going to be cold—
Our first frost, but don’t worry too much—

It won’t harm the pumpkins any at all.”
Old Autumn sighed and quick replied: “Good.
Now the rest of the leaves will crack and fall
All the more due to the ice in their veins;

Yes, they’ll fall like the illusions of youth,
‘Lying carelessly on the granary floor’ and
‘On a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies’, as Keats wrote.”

Composing himself, Old Autumn continued:
“And for those of you who think that ‘warm days
Will never cease’, let us ever remember
Dear Johnny Keats who died so young(25);

However, he lived and saw much than some
Of us might hope to do in a lifetime.”
A shiver ran through Jack-in-the-Green,
Hence he said: “It’s cold; I must go now, for—

Summer passed away in his sleep last night;
Autumn, sweet and plump, carries his offspring.
The year dies in the night; ghostly winter looms;
Lo; the flower is already in the seed.”

“Well done, young Jack-in-the-Green, quick, go, for
Soon enough comes your autumn of care
Sobering into age, thence into
The pale white winter of death,

Though not yet your warm indolent summer
Of contentment lazing into middle-age,
But surely past is my crisp,
Flowering youth-spring of joy!

Such then, comes the end of summer’s dreams,
The blanching of the grassy banks of streams,
But all fragrances my elves remember
Through their long sleep in the winter embers.

The blossoms fall, showers of fragrant beauty,
As leaves fade, while the bulbs store up energy;
Nature’s floral dreams grant this destiny,
For these leavings enrich earth’s potpourri.

Flowers lay their heads to sleep in soft beds,
Blanketed by webs of gossamer threads;
My fairy creatures cast their spectral glow,
As winter stars—floral twins—start to grow.

Later, when surely all the world is dead,
An elf will stand atop Old Winter’s grave
And say ’tis not dead, and, by magic bred,
Makes Snowdrops flower in the tomb’s heat wave.”


Once, I, the author, ventured outside at
Four on a dark frosty October morning…
It was so quiet that I could sense the
Cosmos as it played rhythm to my beating heart.

I saw a preview of the winter’s stars:
Orion, you are so high in the sky—
There for only the astronomer’s eye—
As all the meteors go flying by.

Then I heard a rustling sound in the leaves
Around me—a skunk perhaps—but no,
It was the sound of many falling leaves.
I knew that it must be him, Old Autumn;

He was out there somewhere. Then I sensed him
Going by, for some of the leaves on the
Tree right in front of me broke loose and
Floated away, hitting some other leaves

On the way down, making that rustling sound
That I’d heard earlier. Then it stopped, but
Soon it started up on the next tree, and
Then the next—and so I could very well

Follow the path of Old Autumn making
His rounds in the misty October morn.
Chrysanthemums drank the mellow day,
Falling petals carried the light away.

The weed-flowers grew, marking autumn’s track,
The blossoms that almost brought the spring back,
But, winter’s white death wrap was drawn over,
Smothering the earth’s last warm sweet odour.

The autumn fog enswirled, the mist upcurled,
Into nothingness the wisp slow unfurled.
November flew by, a colorless dearth,
And December, amid death, a festive birth.

Youth and Beauty made agèd Winter mourn
For Summer’s grain—the waving wheat and corn;
For Old Autumn, withered, wan, had passed on,
Leaving the earth a widow, weather worn.

Long since have the winds scattered the leaves
Of the trees to make of them a
Burial shroud for the flowers that died
Grieving at summer's passing. All is death.

The fall is now nearly lost to memory—
Winter is summer's ungrateful heir,
Squandering his riches and abusing his gifts’
It’s not Old Man Winter’s fault, but his duty.

Summer lies underground now, forgotten,
Silent and crusty, covered by winter's
Stern mantle. Only April's tears can make
His grave green again in the springtide.

As seasons pass, the world comes to our door:
Spring sings through the wingèd troubadour;
Summer calls with the rose, ’midst the woodlore;
Autumn crows, plump and sweet, through frosty hoar.

Joy and exuberance are spring’s largesse.
Sunlight, warmth, and growth are summer’s bequest.
Autumn brings wealth with the mellow harvest.
Winter’s fruit is peace—its bounty is rest.

Past us is the flower of spring’s soft breath,
Though not ended our summer of promise;
Soon enough will come the autumn of care,
Beheld, at last, the pale white winter of death.

March, April! spring!—we’ll reign as we May there
Between June and her sister September,
Then prolong the fall, till November come
December, when we can sweet Remember.

In the whisperings of the after-years
The winds of time slowly dry my tears;
Nor would I take back a single drop, for
From those tears the flowers grew without fears.

In spring, we rise from the garden at birth.
Summer blooms long with the roses’ fresh mirth.
Autumn creeps in—we wither on the vine.
Last comes winter, when we return to earth.

[David Maes]

Originally Posted by mkirkpatrick Greg me old hoppo.just reportıng ın from the sunny clımes of Turkey.ın a frıendly ınternet cafe. What I see ın an acorn ıs the absolute.what I see ın you mate ıs the Absolute.what I see ın the trash can ıs the Absolute.what I see.feel.taste.touch.sense.all ıs absolute.there ıs ın truth mate NO-thıng else-other than Absolute?You and I and all (else) are ıllusıons.as ıs the thread tıtle here.what happens when you dıe.ıs exactly the same as when you are (lıvıng)you contınue lıvıng.wıthout the dense physıcal body.ınstead you are usıng the astral etherıc body.untıl the urge to return to physıcal expressıon becomes overwhelmıng then we fall asleep (there) recross the rıver of forgetfullness (Styxx)and awake here? regards mıchael.

Let's pray, Michael.

[mkirkpatrick]

Originally Posted by David Maes Let's pray, Michael.

Pray not to worry my friend,all will be revealed to you at the appointed time,and you will be delighted,hopefully?




regards michael.