Archive for correspondence

Private Parts

Posted in Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 8, 2012 by javedbabar

“Hello Sami, its Alfred from AMP Co. How are you doing over there?”

“What a nice surprise,” said Sami. He said it to be polite, but it wasn’t really. He hadn’t seen or heard from Alfred for three months, ever since the government had declared his 3D printing lab a National Strategic Asset, banned him from opening to the public, and made him a government employee. At the same time, they had repurposed his casual assistant, Sami, to the Transfer Station to run the 3D Unit there, deemed an acceptable public interface for the new technology.

Sami said, “I am doing some good work here. Maybe not pushing the boundaries of science like you are, but I am playing my part in helping humanity. It’s open…”

“Did you say part?”

“Yes, I said part. Why?”

“I need help with a project. Can you come over?”

Last time Sami tried to visit Alfred, he had refused to let him in, and an immediate text had come through, repurposing Sami. He said, “Isn’t your work secret now? I don’t want to get into trouble again.” The Authority knew everything, always adding information to your files. He didn’t want to become a repeat offender. He had heard what happened to them.

“It is secret, but I’ve checked with The Authority. They say you can help me.”

Sami was busy today at the 3D Unit. He had a range of appointments booked to prototype products, print components, and create unusual gifts. His rag picker assistant, Jamz, was still at school, so he couldn’t just leave.

“Look ear!” said Alfred. “You are allowed to be nosy, as long as you don’t mouth off about it. Just come and see, and then give me a hand.”

What is he talking about? Sami wondered. Some kind of private joke? Alfred really is a strange guy.

Sami went over later. Alfred opened the door immediately when Sami arrived. He must have seen him on CCTV. “Come in, come in, my friend.”

Sami saw a selection of artificial body parts scattered around the lab. He understood the puns now. They were pretty tasteless, considering.

Alfred watched his face. “Sorry about that, I was being subliminal.”

A shaven-headed oriental man stepped out of a doorway. Alfred said, “Meet Yojin. I am afraid he doesn’t speak English. He has come here from China after suffering a serious kung fu accident.”

Sami wondered about the “serious kung fu accident.” Guru Baba had once told him about kung fu’s relationship to the power called Tao. It bends like a reed, rather than being stiff like an oak, and has the fluidity of water, the most powerful element, wearing away even stone. Maybe Yojin needed to improve his alignment.

“He was more of a hustler than a fighter. One day he offended a real kung fu master, who removed half his face. He said that was appropriate punishment for half a man. But can you tell that? Take a look. You can’t!”

It was true. Yojin didn’t look at all disfigured. Sami asked, “Has he had plastic surgery?”

Alfred looked very pleased, and said, “Yojin!”

Yojin removed half his face, beneath which was a mass of horrific congealed tissue. His nose, left cheek, left eye, left ear and half his scalp came away with the mask. He stood erect, bravely, still lacking fluidity.

Alfred said, “I scanned him yesterday, did processing overnight, and printed off the replacement tissue using a dollar’s worth of materials this morning. This is the future of cosmetic surgery. What do you think?”

Sami wondered if Yojin was now more himself, or less himself. He looked different on the outside, but had his interior also changed?

Know Thyself

Posted in Conceptual Art, Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on December 5, 2012 by javedbabar

“Guru Baba! What are you doing here?” Sami was surprised to see his old boss, who had been away on pilgrimage for weeks. During his absence, Sami was told by officials that he had been repurposed  to manage Lucerne’s 3D Unit, and he’d had no choice but to leave his position as the sage’s assistant. He enjoyed his new job but felt bad about leaving Guru Baba, who was like the grandfather he’d never known.

“Can’t I come to see how my assistant – sorry, my ex-assistant – is getting on in the big, wide world?”

Sami had started this new job almost immediately. He had tried to wrap up as many projects as possible before leaving, but there was only so much he could do in two days. He hadn’t been able to find a successor so the projects lay abandoned. Because of Sami, assistance to widows, orphans, disabled people, and disaster victims was being delayed. He said, “Guru Baba, I am so sorry about…”

“Don’t be sorry about anything! Ha-ha! I know you were forced to go. Who would willingly leave the divine embrace of the great Guru Baba?”

He puffed his chest out, stood straighter, stroked his long black beard, and then shook his saffron robes with laughter. Sami shared the joke.

“Can I make you some tea, Guru Baba?”

“No! No tea! It makes me pee!”

That wasn’t one of his best mantras, thought Sami, but okay, no tea.

“Sami, you know I love tea. Have you ever heard me refuse it before?”

Sami pondered, with fingers stroking chin. “Come to think of it, I haven’t.”

“So why am I doing so now? Solve the mystery.”

“You only drink hard liquor now!”

“Ha! Good one! Go on, try again.”

“You have realized it is cruel to cut up plants and boil them to death.”

Guru Baba looked down for a moment. “You have a point there too, but no.”

“You now only drink invisible tea that only really clever people enjoy. Here, have a cup.” He handed him an empty mug.

“No! Your three questions are up. The reason is that I don’t want to interrupt the scan by going to pee.”

“What scan?” Sami’s eyes opened like flashbulbs. “You want a scan?”

“Yes, make a model of me, life size.”

“Life size? It will have to be done in sections. I only have mid-range equipment here. The high power model is at AMP Co. Do you know what happened there?” Guru Baba nodded, indicating he knew about its possession by the Authority as a National Strategic Asset. “It will take an hour for scanning and a week for production.”

“That’s why I don’t want tea. You know an hour is a very long time at my age. Let’s get started.”

While his lower half was being scanned, Guru Baba said, “You know, when you leave here, you should focus on this. Personal scans. You will make a lot of money. People want models of themselves. They spend their whole lives trying to shape their outer world to be like their inner world. They want to manifest themselves, substantially. This could really change things. If a copy of them exists out there already, they can stop trying to change the world, and start appreciating it instead.”

A week later when Guru Baba saw his model, he looked at himself sternly and said, “Know thyself.” Then he giggled and said, “Pleased to meet you.”

Spine Knot Syndrome

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 19, 2012 by javedbabar

Amir went to the Ancient Asian Acupuncture clinic. He had a strange lump at the base of his spine. It wasn’t troubling him really, there was no irritation or pain, he couldn’t even call it a swelling. It seemed like a misplaced knuckle on his back.

He felt throbbing which felt energetic rather than depleting. He had picked up this terminology from his old girlfriend, Shakti, who claimed to be a yogini and had introduced him to Tantric Sex. This was like normal sex but favoured women.

Incense and gymnastics were involved, and it went on forever. Shakti scored every time, but things went on for so long that he sometimes failed. Despite his best efforts, she left him for her guru eventually, a rascal named Ozwald Malchizedek, aka OM. Amir had met him a few times and…

His doctor said, “Amir, please come in. Yes, I have looked into the matter. You have a bolus connected to all seven nerve centres. I found references in ancient textbooks to SKS: Spine Knot Syndrome, which arises from energetic imbalance, but can also be beneficial. Think of it as grit in an oyster creating extreme irritation, and the oyster produces layer upon layer of material to coat the grit and make it bearable. The result is a gleaming pearl, prized worldwide.”

“I don’t get it,” said Amir. “What’s happening to my body?”

“Okay, relax, you are tensing the right side of your body. Let it go, and again, good, that’s it. You’ve had a nerve trauma, entirely energetic, but you can see the physical manifestation. The affected part sends signals to every part of your body crying ‘Help!’

“As energetic conductors your nerves follow spiritual principles, such as Love thy neighbor as thyself. They greet the damaged nerve and make it welcome.”

Amir shifted. The doctor said, “Please be still. I am sensing the best treatment.”

After five minutes he said, “Okay, I’ve got it. What’s the best way of explaining it to you? Erm…Okay, I’ll try a domestic analogy. The body is like a house, and each part is a room. I’ll run through your physical real estate from bottom to top.

“Your bowels are your basement, where unwanted items accumulate, and they should be emptied regularly.

“Your genitals are your bathroom, a place to expel unwanted fluids, maybe an en-suite bathroom, leading on to the bedroom.

“Your stomach is your kitchen, full of food.

“Your heart is your lounge, a place you meet people or rest alone.

“Your throat is your entry hall, where you chit-chat in passing.

“Your third eye is your bedroom, where you sleep and dream.

“Lastly – we could say, ultimately – your crown is your loft, a place of elevated thoughts.

“Your house is looking shabby though. Are you ready for some renovations?”

After a month of weekly sessions, Amir found that he was eliminating more toxins, having less sex, eating less food, watching less TV, chatting less, sleeping less, and meditating more often. He was transforming into an energetically integrated being.

He was also becoming smug and irritating. Not everyone saw the oyster forming inside the pearl. People rolled their eyes when he spoke of his “physical real estate”, and began to avoid him. Amir was in a knotty bind.