appono astos

when the light shows itself, the illuminati think they’re in the east.  but the light shines first when we see that there is no east or west.  on the surface of a sphere, dimension is symmetrical in all directions.  because this is so, the earth has been provided a magnetic field, which provides orientation and distributes consciousness (see rupert sheldrake, biomorphic field).  but this provides only for a logical north and south, stemming from the direction of flow of the greater biomorphic field, out through the north in through the south.  but even that is reversible.  imagine the consequences in the biomorphic-field of a magetic reversal (also see: magetic disturbances on 9/11).  east is an assumption by a monocular cyclops living and thinking in 2d grounded by gravity and lying at the angle of repose, a blank assertion by (a) blank association.  and, the insistence that it is where the sun rises, as if it is on a crystal sphere bubbling us in russian-doll style, and coincidently to the right of north was derived in the past when the sun was thought to actually rise and set.  obviously, it doesn’t.  the earth dances around her.  incidentally, the sun is setting, so to speak.  so thinkers of this age, artists and poets, philosophers, mediums and prophets, leave the cartesean turf war behind. 

... venus is always in close association with the sun in our sky.  that is because she is closer.  sometimes, she is the morning star.  sometimes, the evening star.  as she wanders, she rises in the east and in the west.  imagine retrograde outside the box, inside the sphere and you have some idea.  her beauty is pentacular in an eight year, spinning circular spiral dance in beautiful phi cycles.  she gives us the clue we need... to the wise is sufficient.  the truth does set you free.
... you do not possess the moon though you grasp a piece of her with gloved hand, because you've tread on her and left your shoeprint-mantracks in her fine dust, obnoxiously stuck a flagpole into her flesh, left your garbage behind and trashed her spare beauty pristine perfection.  you sociopaths couldn’t even leave the moon like you found her.  so, how can you be trusted with a vineyard like the earth?  when will you stop, when she fits perfectly to cover the blessed sun, if only for a moment, or when the moon turns blood-red a fortnight later, when the sinister glow of the sick-yellow sodium light drowns her beauty-light out?  you bring evil with the light.  but you even forget yourselves, and this is why you are destined to crash and burn in a glorious tumult.  ... great will be her fall.  in one day is she laid to waste, and the smoke of her torment is seen from afar off. 
...as the lightning which is in the east, is seen even in the west, so shall the coming of the son of man be.  the image of the beast walks and talks...  the son of man!?  what the hell does that mean?  i'm the son of woman.  ... she is clothed in the sun, and you liars coin LIBERTY, the word and her image on the gold that enslaves us, free speech goes to the highest bidder, sold american!  ... she was given wings like an eagle, the moon at her feet, and a place was prepared for her in the wilderness.  you make wallpaper of in god we trust, imprinting it endlessly on empty promises.  repeat it to yourself until it is reduced to a nonsensical string of sounds.  build a wall of noise to keep out your angst and ennui, television, microwave e.m.f.'s, radio waves that match the bandwidth of the ventilation shafts, ingenious, insidious, hutchison effect takes down twin gates.  hurricane irene skirts manhattan, unnnoticed, flirts with disaster and takes a turn to the right, like the nation, bernoulli be damned, bush two, too.  you should feel the dark one's breath on the back of your neck, but no one is the wiser, yields us killing e-static/right angle bee-line out into the atlantic.  gods bless america, you say, as if you could command it.  ... and at the apogee, the largest part of the spiral, christopher columbus steps onto the moon, one small step for mankind is one giant leap, into the abyss, where appolyon rules because you have made sure it is so, self-fulfilling the prophesy, plastering his name all over your first tentative steps toward manmade heaven, repeating it for his sake.  ... and the law makers sanction wisdom, but psi will set you free.

... because they know there are so many tin gods, like tin soldiers toying with plaything-beasts, gods of history.  yeah, right!  there is only one god, and (s)he is the child who plays with the tin soldiers.  really?  ... and there is only one son of god.  yet, the elohim and their nephalim, the sons of god found the daughters of men attractive, and they lay with them and bore children with them. sons of god?!  cry, son of david.  ... there were giants in the earth in those days, and these were the ancient men of renowned.  and the end days shall be like the days of noah.  man, you act as if your superiority is so, ipso fatso, and needing to prove to yourself and establish your superiority to others, women have proven handy, so handy that you have ruined her, raped and pillaged, burned and remade her in your own arrogant image, and you say she came from your rib, rabbi?  sold her the lie of testosterone - i'm the best!  i'm #1!  you have won and planted the seeds of your own demise in her womb.  the genetic time bomb ticks, autism, breast cancer, margellans disease...  or what you fear the most, depression in captivity, endemic ennui, stir crazy reali-tv, fat-cute pudge, morbid obesity, prepubescent-prediabetic, abhorrent adorabrat honey boo boo sopping up the greasygravy with bread (and circuses) cast on the waters to return 10fold, (deaducks eat not a crumb) stereotypic behavior.  need a sign?  how's a fish strike you, especially after three days in the grave?  how's consuming godman's flesh transubstantiated, though unsubstantiated? 
... and they said, behold, they have become as one of us, knowing [shame].  perhaps shame was really the first sin, courtesy of god.  and he comes on the scene in the garden, after the invisible disaster, whistling a tune, as if he doesn't know what happened.  and he blames you, you first ones, but you were innocent, but you believed, and so you lied to yourselves and took shame to protect the shameful secret of the one-eyed one.  either he could not protect you, or he betrayed you.  either way, he betrayed your trust.  either way, it wasn’t your fault.  you could not have known.  you were abused, and the one eyed one did not protect you.  in fact, you didn't die, and things only went terribly wrong when he flew off the handle, kicked you out of paradise, cursed you, his prized creation, and he curses you... fool...  for he is a jealous god who loves and hates (his pawns) and hurts those who love him, convincing them that they are worthless and offering them the glittering hope of pricelessssnesssss, if only they can be good enough to deserve his love.  and anger is a deadly sin, but he is wrath.  ... and they drank from the cup of the wine of god’s indignation.  ... and she was dressed in scarlet and purple and was drunk on the blood of the saints.  how much clearer can it get?  need a sign?  evolve, for god's sake.  leave his lies to history.  but you can't, can you?  fate calls you over the cliff, buffalo-lemming like.  ... shame.  ...and for a profit gained but losing the world, literally, but break my heart to say what it has done to your soul.  immortech is inevitable, avoid death and ignore life.  destroy meaning.  replace it with perpetual crisis.   

... imagine a world in which the children are schooled, and so, their titans overruled.  this is a call to you-know-what.  but who knows what?  man's history is war without frontiers.  ... to protect the constitution of the united states against all enemies foreign and domestic: he is within the nation, not of the nation nor for the nation.  the most powerful man in the free world can't free himself, though not bound by his word or by honor.  amend truth.  spin death.  but, he's a bullshit-babbling mascot of the colonies of corporatocracy!  the body will suffer in throes of paroxysm while the head looks on in paralyses of psychic gridlock, impotently gawking as babylon catabolizes and cannibalizes herself.  need a sign?  drink up, dreamers.  you're running dry. 

the energy of crop circles, psi, phi, pi, the laughing ghost, the aged one unseen, chides us.   the eagle has landed.  the party’s over.  the endgame is afoot. 

awake, honestly. aware, you see not.  seeing, you are not aware… this is mind, the real.  ...as if you could worship the fallen one and bring the highest down low with you, struggle with yourselves.  imagine a world where the children are schooled, and so, their titans overruled.  exploration [of] humanity 59 09’ 42.532” n 13 13’ 12.69” w conti[nuous] for planetary advan[ce]...  reduce, recycle, refuse!

appono astos

there is only one revolution,

and it is revolving now.

occupy everything!

Heavenly Night Falls Heavily

We are standing under, not understanding a tremendous mass in a clear black sky.  Every pinpoint of sky is inhabited with bright heavenly bodies, mostly invisible, disappearing into the unfathomable distance by simple rules of perspective.  With mechanical eyes to see, we know this for a certainty.  Though Beauty grants that the sky is sprinkled with shining diamonds, unmistakably, it still appears absolutely carbon-black to us.  We the people, all of us, no matter what we claim to believe, no matter our affiliations or our learning, no matter our accomplishments, our success or failure, and never mind our government by us, for us, we are all surrounded and shot through with this unmistakably black hole, this empty space, which is as heavy as heavy can possibly be.  We take for granted that it is what it is.  It seems real, and it is, but only by definition.  It isn’t necessarily so, as such.  This seems a contradiction.  The coherence of a wave of language breaks and spreads thin on this shore.  Realize that the real estate is wetted by it, the stone eroded by it, broken to tiny shards, the grains of sand on which we stand, but it means very little.  After all, what is real?  We cannot adequately answer this question with language.  So, take the real for granted; but do not take it to heart. 

When we interrupt negative dreams by waking to the real world, we are continually surprised and relieved to learn that our fearful state was pointless because we were safely sleeping in our beds, all along.  Though this is a poetic metaphor for it, our material situation is emotionally identical to this, spiritually identical to this dreaming/waking dichotomy.  But disregard the Buddha, whom they claim is the awakened one.  Whether he is awakened or not, we do not know it.  So, we cannot knowledgeably claim this for ourselves or anyone else. 

Our human life carries a vast mass of material weight, a universal order mingled with random chaos, most of it cloaked by blinding darkness and carrying eons of millennia of inertia forward into an invisible future.  I say forward, but truly, we travel backwards.  If you doubt it, consider this: we cannot see the future, but we see the past.  So, we travel through time facing backwards, apparently seeing where we have been, not necessarily where we are going.  In addition, in fact, we have no reason to call our movement in the material cosmos forward.  Our absolute direction of movement in the expanding space is impossible to determine.  We hurtle on, despite.  Even most of the light in the universe is invisible to us.  But we stand proud, ignoring our ignorance by which we are bent, stooped by the stark, backbreaking dark, the ether being the densest element of all.  And even though it is perfectly clear, it appears as black as black can be.  

And our death looms within it, huddling near to us for warmth.  We feel its cold breath on our faces.  It makes us painfully aware of what we do not know, and our unknown is frightening.  So, we invent a sunlit view from the mountain top as if on a clear day we could see eternity.  Charitably, I believe our stories are constructed from hopeful, honest good will and intention.   Composed from metaphors, our myths are lies we use to tell the unknown truth of our lives.  But they fall far short of telling the truth of our deaths.  Near death experiences are almost exclusively positive, though they belie many of our high hopes of certainty in faith.  But we can take solace in the fact that they also belie many of our fears.  Though these experiences only give us a glimpse through the slightly ajar door into an antechamber of whatever awaits us beyond the waiting room we live in, (while we pass time by reading dog-eared magazines, which don’t belong to us or watch the television without control of the remote while it’s set on a channel we didn’t choose) these near-death glimpses are hints that reveal the temporary nature of our cares and anxieties, which contribute needlessly to loads of unnecessary pain.  We do it all to ourselves and to each other.  We take ourselves and each other so seriously, though it amounts to preposterous pomposity and pretense.  Our spirits know it.    

Our Halloween is obvious to them.  We don our costumes to play roles in society, which are so much fantasy and role-playing pretending to importance.  We provide consequences to one another to shape behavior with rewards and flattery, insults, verbal abuse and assaults, threats, punishments from corporal to capital, restrictions of freedom, deprivations, chastisements, ostracism, manipulations ad infinitum, all because we are certain that it is necessary, unavoidable.  And it all amounts to a tremendously tragic farce. 

The positive intentions of our metaphorical stories have sadly become supplanted by will to power.  The road to hell is literally paved with these good intentions.  But take heart.  Though all roads may lead to Rome, which is bad enough, thankfully, they never actually reach hell.  We can take solace in the beautiful truth: the conscious universe endorses none of our endeavors to control one another.  Fear not.  There is nothing there in the dark that is not there in the flickering florescent light.  And in fact, the dark is suffused with authentic light.  Touch the zero point energy.  But don’t try to lean on the empty space.  Take shelter in its unseen dimensions, but don’t assume parallel universes.  Feel the warmth of that invisible light, and take comfort from it.  See with that eye that is always open, even in our restless slumber.  Believe.  But know that is what you are doing.

What is the meaning of life?  It is meaningless to ask.  If it had only one meaning, we would all be lost.

peace

sarva

The Sun is Rising

The Sun is rising, so to speak, as it must, virtually by definition, this and every morning.  Although from my perspective it is artificially delayed by the warehouse outlet discount variety store between Her effulgent body and myself.  And it is understood, as it were, that the dawn is not as a result of the Sun’s movement but because the Earth continues His spiraling Sufi dance in orbit around His Source.  Although the Sun is not visible to me at this moment, the air is alight.  It is shining.  This glory is poorly understood by me, but not only by me.  It has been explained to me, and I still remember the first time it was so explained away, that the air absorbs certain frequencies of light and radiates others.  So, the sky is blue.  This explanation has been enhanced by later knowledge and experience.  For instance, the Sun fades colors in a predictable order, red first and leaving blue.  Still, the knowledge hardly suffices. 

As I understand it, the mix of molecules, which is the air, absorbs energy and remits it at certain frequencies or wavelengths in space, or in the form of corpuscles, (now known as photons, which may or may not have mass) or as waves, or as quantifiable quantum probabilities that exist in superposition but collapse on observation.  That is, the light remitted by the molecules may be particles or waves and may exist in a localized form or in superposition depending on whether there is an observer to hold the light to task, to force the issue.  This is, more or less, a scientific description, albeit abstracted by my artistic penchant and likely inaccurate in some respects due to my poor understanding.  Even so, it is a wonder, and the explanations hardly serve to dispel my wonder.  For this, I am grateful.  I suspect that no matter how deep the explanation might go, my wonder would still persist, redirected to the next thing not yet explained away.  And the last fact, that observation contributes to the light’s situation is telling, to me. 

The air is transparent but not perfectly so.  It is translucent.  As it happens, life requires light, and it is available to us because the nature of the air supports and facilitates life’s use of the light.  Or, life is what it is due to the nature of light and the translucent air, among infinitely many other factors, not least of which is the air. 

Perhaps these observations seem patently obvious, or it seems they miss the point, entirely.  Perhaps, cause and effect do not provide a complete picture of reality. 

I’m not minimizing the accomplishments of science.  It has taken millennia of civilization and centuries of science for people to approach the truth of the ubiquitous and apparently simple phenomenon of Sunshine, along with other realities of the interactions of light and matter.  I am saying that it is easy to conclude prematurely that one understands the reality because one can describe it. 

Love knows this is not so. 

There is silence in science; by which I mean there are some things about which science is rightfully silent, or it should be.  Love is one of those things.  To scientifically study the emotions that we all experience is at best a soft science full of uncertainty.  We can all be comfortable with that uncertainty because it doesn’t affect our experience, at all.  One can attribute proximal causes to our emotions, but we experience our idiomatic emotions regardless of whether or not cause and effect can be demonstrated to us.  Our own reasons are enough for us, and no matter whether they are very insightful or scientific, these reasons are as detailed and rational as they need to be for our own comfort. 

This is not to say that Love can even be reduced to an emotional state, far from it.  And at the risk of presenting what may seem at first blush to be a non sequitur, this is to say that we do not understand the way light and matter interact.  Science may provide material facts along with a rationale for how our emotions are created by them, including but not limited to an extremely complex internal chemical environment facilitating electrical potentials via ion exchange.  But this is preposterous.  To attribute the entirety of life to material causes makes no more sense than to say clothes make the man (incidentally, the emperor has none).  Science cannot possibly attribute an emotion to an internal chemical environment, no matter how complex, when it cannot begin to describe how light interacting with matter conditions our experience.  But if it could, that would suffice.  After all, we can only be light and matter.  Right? 

Wrong. 

In order to approach the truth of how light interacting with matter conditions our experience, one has to take a leap of faith of which science is not capable.  Science will never explain consciousness with its current, proof-driven, bootstrapping from-the-ground-up mindset.  In order to explain consciousness, science must give its devil his due.  That is, it must grant consciousness primacy and give up the preposterous view that matter could ever possibly create it.  Nothing else in our bodies is created by us, not the matter, not the light, and none of the properties of either of them.  And, if matter created consciousness, I think it would be obvious to us how matter and light interact, and it is not.

Still, the Sun is rising, so to speak.

peace,
sarva

fluid, spherical being

http://www.well.com/user/davidu/sixthextinction.html

http://filebox.vt.edu/artsci/geology/mclean/Dinosaur_Volcano_Extinction/pages/studentv.html

Although our minds seem not to be extended in space, apparently having no dimension, and although we experience time as one-dimensional, perceiving ourselves as a point traveling forward along a time line, we should never fall into the mind trap of believing that anything within being is simply linear or restricted to a single point, least of all consciousness. 
We are dropped into being, which is fluid, free-floating and spherical like a drop of water in empty space.  It is inherent in the structure of a sphere that on its surface the nature of things is symmetrical in all directions, but our splash down introduces a point of reference, novelty and difference, and it shatters the perfect symmetry.  The ripples made by our splashdown radiate in circles away from us and converge on the opposite side of spherical being.  Of course, after they converge they continue to propagate, and because they are on the surface of a sphere they converge again back where they began.  That is, where we splashed down.  Any movement creates more ripples and waves that propagate, converge on the opposite side, grow as they add to one another, and return to us where we are.  And this is just a simplified view, only considering what is happening on the surface!  The more we move, the more we create the disturbances that return to us, but we may not identify ourselves as the source of the disturbances because they come to us from elsewhere, or so it seems.  If we panic or thrash, the agitations can escalate rapidly. 

Time is multidimensional, and so is consciousness, and our waves also propagate throughout those media.  Believe it, and do not thrash.  As biotechnological humans, we are thrashing in ways we do not consider violent or agitated, and we thrash in ways we do not even recognize as thrashing. 

If you realize the spherical nature of being, then there is freedom.  We may yet experience this freedom as euphoria internally and personally within our own individuated consciousness, where we may know bliss accompanied by a sense of wholeness and personal responsibility that defies the confining biopsychosocial truths and lies that shackle us to this dying way of life.  We thrash because the undeniable, yet devilishly elusive truth is that this way of life is a dying way, a way of drowning.  Calm the waters; calm your self, even though virtually no one will advocate this, nor teach you how to do it.  You know how to do it.

In general, the human way of life rapes and murders the soul of freedom for the sake of what is taken to be a worthwhile life.  Mostly, our souls live in threadbare survival and in slavery to our ego-ridden social selves.  In short, we build our own cages and live in concrete, sanitized zoological parks where we are treated like captive chattel and where we will be trapped, unable to avoid the mass extinction brought about by our own unsurpassed intelligence, utter stupidity and criminal insanity, all of which parasitize wisdom.  It is easy to believe, and understandable if the reader feels this is hyperbole.  Meanwhile, information, technology, science and vapid, quickly perishable trends in thought masquerade as wisdom and spiritual evolution. 

Consider the apathy with which the 2005 Boxing Day tsunami in Asia was greeted by so many humans who encountered it.  It was so far outside their experience they could not see it for what it was.  Even though they saw something approaching they generally did nothing to evade it because they could not understand that it meant impending disaster for them.  The nonhuman animals who sensed it coming, though they never saw it, did what was reasonable.  They went inland to higher ground where they generally survived.  We have traded good sense for reason.

Perhaps, there is a blessing in having a mind that is silent of language, which often confounds direct experience, deceives, entraps and enslaves its users.  Language may serve us, but we do not always serve ourselves if we rely solely on it to understand anything, much less everything.  The snare may be inherent in our dependence on language for almost all of our teaching and learning.  Teachers assert that the best way to understand anything is to try to teach it to someone.  But anyone who understands learning knows that there is no such thing as teaching.  Learning is all, and many conditions make learning more or less likely. 

Ultimately, the usefulness of language is to facilitate enlightened self-interest which benefits the whole sphere of being.  For humans, if, as we claim, that is indeed what we want, it cannot be achieved without language, but neither can it be achieved solely with it.  Our way of error can only be uprooted when we see that we have been deceived by our teachers into believing that if we are to understand anything it must be named and described, and they claim that if you have not named and described it you have not understood it.  This claim is motivated by the desire to control.  It is plainly materialistic, and it is why we need sirens blaring when a natural, enlightened feeling of dread is supplanted by a wholly unwise complacency.  We are taught through modeling that apathy is the appropriate feeling in response to anything that is not obviously self-serving. 

What need is there for alarm?  It's business as usual unless we are told differently.  And yet, even though we are told differently, business, as usual, appeals to our egos and language-addled minds to convince us that in our own self-interest, we should not to make waves.  The irony of this eludes us.  Now, if you have learned anything by reading all this verbiage, forget the source of it so we may both live free!  Dismantle the cage and go to higher ground.

peace,

sarva

the idiot is no fool. the fool is no idiot.

in this case, syntax is everything and/or nothing. consider the difference:

priceless is worthless

seems cynical and faithless, as if nothing is of any value.

worthless is priceless

seems full of faith and hopeful, as if everything is of value.

either way, it means the two things are the same. so, it's not even a syntactic difference. it's semantics, not of definition but of meaning. in this case, the affects of the language oppose one another. to one folly, there will be another one opposed. semantics may seem meaningless. but i insist it is not. the commutative principal in a subtraction equation is like syntax. 0 - 1 ≠ 1 - 0. order determines truth. but in another language, indian music for instance, ragas (melodic themes) necessarily have differing ascending and descending patterns. the notes' relative situations change their meaning. that is semantics.

enlightenment cannot be attained with language or without it.

it seems to deny the possibility enlightenment. but it's a fool's play, as zen is a power play. the inaccuracy in language seemingly yields invalidity, untruth. but it's just inexactitude.

more accurately, enlightenment cannot be attained with language nor without it.

it's the same. isn't it? it isn't.

absurdity turns on paradox. i do not claim that enlightenment cannot be attained, only that language is necessary but not sufficient. that is, one cannot attain enlightenment with language, but neither will one ever attain enlightenment without it. the absence and denial of language is also necessary but not sufficient. the necessity of its limits must be explored, appreciated, valued, cherished. this is the human dilemma. learn it all, lies and all. then unlearn it all, including the truth. all that aside, who says one can attain enlightenment with language or without it? the fool falls, therefore flies.

the truth is: there is none. or, there's not one. which amounts to the same thing. or does it? consider the difference:

to say:
i know there is no truth
seems utterly foolish.

to say:
there is no truth i know
seems the beginning of wisdom.

this idiotic dichotomy is set by cartesean dualism, which posits there is a monolithic truth, which exists absolutely outside of, or at least independently from our minds. and yet, this stance is named for rene decartes, the same man who claimed: i think therefore i am. now, how can one say at one moment that thinking proves one's being and yet claim that being is separate and independent of whatever one may think? it's preposterous. think that you are merely because you think, but it's just another pointless and vapid assertion. talk about begging the question! there are so many unspoken assumptions in that assertion, it's ridiculous. it's actually a logical argument in a single sentence. yet, it contains as many undefined terms as it contains words. and yet again, at one time, it seemed to me that it made perfect sense. it seemed a redoubtable fortress of truth, unassailable, irrefutable. but it's folly, and i oppose it. to one folly there is another one opposed.

any time we realise we are foolish, we must realise we are foolish in ways we do not yet know we are being foolish. is that the beginning of wisdom? it's just more fool's play. the fool falls therefore flails.

truly, the problem is meaningless, a distinction without a difference. 1 = 1 - 0 = -(0 -1) = 1. it's the same difference. though the aphorism seems foolish, a difference makes a subtraction equation true. a difference is a solution to a (subtraction) problem. in this case, two problems, one solution, there is no difference between the differences... the same difference.

i have honesty, but i try not to mistake it for truth. the fool fails. one's brain projects sensory data with incalculable involuntary interpretations and (undoubtedly) foolish elaborations seemingly seamlessly. the end result: one doesn't know (if) one is dreaming. still, the result is one, a wholeness, seamless (or, so it seems) whatever what one may think. and, one is the result of whatever one may think. incidentally, (or coincidentally) one is not a prime number, though it only has itself and one as factors. one is itself. so, it is considered an identity. consider it a singularity, if you will. i do. but it is folly.

one is not one. infinity is within one. how can this be? one is just one. one is simplicity itself. isn't it? it isn't. there is an infinity between zero and one. one contains infinite fractions. everything falls out of, and back into one. one belies itself. simplicity itself belies itself.

it's ok, and none of it is. even the bible claims it: god's wisdom is the foolishness of (wo)men.

tarot's trump card is the fool - the zero. one can aspire to such folly. god is one. but god is also zero. how else could (s)he remain unprovable, therefore undefined by our folly? (and our wisdom).

one can attain to such folly. even a fool realises the difference between one and zero. if i have zero, i have nothing. if i have one, then i have something. the difference is one of being - one of being. a difference of one and an infinity of difference. indecently, a difference of zero is never the same as no difference at all. 
dis(card) the folly of the dualism between zero and one. trump one. trump oneself. zero the ego. that's identity in singularity, undefined by one's folly, though it is opposed. what is it worth? everything and nothing.

and it is worth one.

peace,
sarva