BEYOND ETERNITY ISSN 1203-5416 Episode 01 <--> December 1995 by: Sanjay Singh eternity@cyberspace.org ___________________________________________________________________ "Moving forward to the only place you know Side tracked by some indiscretion, changing as you go, Temptation may come hope you conscience doesn't hide The longest trip you'll take is inside." [Yes] Ever get the feeling that history is repeating itself, and that you're doing the same things over and over again in an endless cycle? Just under a year ago I was sitting on this same chair, typing at this same computer and listening to this same CD. Just under a year ago I was writing my first introduction to "The Eternity Articles." Now here we are, at the very first issue of a new product of my mind. I've walked the walk, talked the talk, and danced the dance. Then I took a step back and looked at my entire life from outside my body, and realized that some changes needed to be made. So I made them. They're still happening, but I'm sure that the first couple of issues will be littered with stories about that, so why should I share all of them at once? So, without further ado... it's show time! Contents ======== - Introduction (you just read it) - Just What I Needed - Fear For Sale - Young And Innocent - Three Writers... - I Sue You, You Sue Me... [by Professor Zen] - Lobster Tails [by Dahven White] - On Fear Of Success [by Greg Webster] - Administrivia - Rules Of The Game Just What I Needed ================== "What do I want? Nothing, the only thing that I need is forgiveness, but there's only one person that can give me that and she won't let a conversation pass beyond the 'polite' stage anymore..." [The Eternity Articles, Act I, Scene iv] Well, I was close. I knew what I wanted, I just had the wrong source. I'm actually going to be doing a lot of this over the next issue or so. I just remember things that I said in earlier issues, that either I just don't agree with it anymore, or I just want to comment on it and let you all know how everything's going. Anyways, about forgiveness... I think that was one of the key contradictions that I had in my life. I was just too stubborn to notice it at the time. I think that the light finally went off when I told a friend that "there is no possible way for me to justify what I did, and so there is no way for me to forgive myself." He responded with "why would one ever forgive someone for doing right?" There was some other surrounding text, but that was the key point in his argument. And it worked. So here I sit at my desk over a month later, and it's finally hitting me. It didn't actually take the full month, but the really substantial move, the tumbler clicking into place... happened this week. And so I said to myself what I'm about to say right now. "I forgive myself." And just like that the guilt is gone. What I thought was a shield that I could hide behind was actually a cage that I was sealed into. The claim that "why should I feel guilty for my present crimes, when my past ones are so much worse?" was working in tandem with my mind to make sure that I could never escape. But I couldn't get past the guilt. I needed to put the responsibility of my own forgiveness on someone else's shoulders. I was just a slave to whenever she chose to release me. Of course, it was a safe choice, since I knew that she wasn't a part of my life anymore. If I didn't see the light, I might have never been able to escape. I thought that she had the only key. The turnaround happened when I started listening to my mind. It was the jailor, but it was also captive with me. It told me to acknowledge that it existed and to start living again. I put up a good fight until I had no more weapons available to me. My mind just kept on throwing rationality at me, and eventually, I realized that I couldn't fight fact. Fact is fact, I can't just ignore the truth. And that was the moment that I truly became free. Fear For Sale ============= "When I was very young, I went to a grade school in New York City called Saint Bart's for Boys... The brothers and sisters were very strict, you know, my butt caught the bamboo more than a few times. But I didn't hate it. Those rules made me feel important, they made me feel worth protecting." [from Homicide: Life on the Streets] I stopped by the local store this afternoon on the way home from class. I had a craving for some chicken fingers, and remembered that I had no barbecue sauce to eat them with. That's how I ended up there. Now, after grabbing my sauce, I decided to do a quick sweep over the magazine rack, just to see what was in. Everything was pretty much the same, but then I saw this one thin little magazine peeking out from behind all the others. Actually, all I saw was the white bar across the top, and in big blue friendly letters, this headline: Behind the News * Big Brother * UFOs * Unexplained Now after seeing that, I had no choice. I had to buy it. Actually, what convinced me was the cover. With topics like "Earthquakes linked to nuclear tests!" and "The bitter truth about artificial sweeteners," I couldn't resist. The magazine was called Nexus (in case you were curious) which I thought was deliciously cute. I suppose I should explain where I stand on this to begin with. No, I am not paranoid. And yes, I am proud of that. I know the little paranoia game that people play, which is fine. You know, finding conspiracies in everything, and mentioning that the world is out to get you... but the reality of the topic never really hit home until today when I got home and started reading this magazine. There are people who actually live in fear of Big Brother. Now, I'll agree that fear is undoubtedly the greatest weapon in the arsenal of psychological warfare. We see it every day, and our parents saw it even more during the cold war. It's a great tool to manipulate people, but that doesn't mean that you need to sign over your life to it. Do you want to know what really scares me? People that honestly believe that the world is out to get them. People that think that "one man cannot make a difference". People who live their lives as if they were victims of the system, but instead of trying to save themselves, they sink even deeper into the role of the victim. These people exist. Hell, I was one of them. Believe me, I was even afraid of myself back then. Now, this is where I'm supposed to follow some kind of editorial etiquette and say that everyone, even the paranoids, are entitled to their own opinions. But every time I try to write that, I remember something that a friend said to me two nights ago. "Opinion is a denial of truth. For if each man is entitled to his own opinion then there can be nothing which is false, consequently there can be nothing which is true." [Andrew Juric] So, that pretty eliminates any sense of 'fair play' that I may have once held. Maybe it's because all of the columnists are doctors and university professors, and they're acting like frightened children. Maybe it's because they seem to have conveniently forgotten to mention logical facts that could shatter their arguments, that I refuse to use my sense of mythics to justify their beliefs. Is it really possible that fluoride is put into our water because it helps fight tooth decay, or is it really in there because there are over twenty fluorinated tranquillizing compounds? Or maybe it's used to subdue the chemically enhanced soldiers that were fun to play with during war times, but when they were released back into society, they just didn't fit in too well. Or maybe it's all part of some huge international ploy to disintegrate the ozone layer! After all, rainfall in the Mojave Desert has 0.7 parts per million of hydrofluoric acid, and the Siberian tundra has 0.3 ppm. How can it be? So, perhaps I'm being naive about this entire issue. Maybe there is a huge conspiracy to hide the fact that it could be possible that an alien race landed on the moon before us. And maybe there is a secret military agenda to control the number and strength of earthquakes by detonating nuclear warheads underground. But what do we really have to gain by accepting it. True or not, I'm going to continue to believe that I belong in this universe, one person can make a difference, and above all that I control my destiny, and that the only person that I can be a victim of is myself, since I'm the only one that can destroy me. On a final note; if radio waves cause cancer, aspartame is the poison of the 90s, and that the National Childhood Immunisation Register (soon to be implemented in Australia, and pretty common in the western world) is a secret way of slowly poisoning every child in the country, then who would want control of a nation of couch- jockeys and dying invalids? And when your population dies, who are you in control of then? Young And Innocent ================== "Let's shut our eyes and pretend And maybe once again We can be young and innocent." [Elefante] Today, as I was walking to class, I got into a discussion with a friend of mine about boots. We had our first big snowfall last night, and it was still coming down pretty hard this morning. Anyways, I mentioned that I'd need to bring my boots out of retirement when I went home this weekend, and he looked at me as if I were the crazy one. He said something like "why do you need boots?" I mentioned how much I hate wearing wet socks, and why I don't like it when my feet get cold. It all seemed to make a lot of sense to me. Here I was. being all mature, and reasonable. Why do I wear boots? So my feet stay dry and warm. Then, on my way home, I passed a young girl. She was ploughing through the snow, wearing a simple pair of running shoes. She wasn't even lifting her feet off the ground, she was intentionally pushing the snow with her shoes. Here I was, walking home, cursing the cold underneath my breath, and this little girl was running through the snow, making some strange crunching noise (the same one boys make when they're playing with Tonka trucks). That's when I realized that I was "too mature" for that sort of thing. I remembered the glory of youth. How when I was a kid, I had this great feeling of power. I didn't need to worry about consequences. I was a libertarian back then. If it felt good, and no one else got hurt, then why shouldn't I do it? Maturity is a strange thing. I always equated maturity with unhappiness. Maturity comes with age, and with maturity comes expectations and responsibilities. In a way I was right, but again, I had the source all messed up. I always bought into the "grow up, go to university, get a job, get married, grow old, die" plan of how to live your life. I accepted the linearity of life. There was no point in straying from the path, because you never heard about people that did and survived. Of course we heard endless stories about what would happen if we strayed from the path. "You need to learn how to play the piano" but with that came "Why would you want to be a musician?" Dreams are fine, but they're not practical. How I hate that word. From the people who brought you the crazy notion of sacrifice comes the idea that if it's not practical, then there's no point in doing it. Want to know why we never heard about the people that followed their own path, and stuck to it even when doubt appeared? They did survive, and their path led to utopia. A place where dreams come true, because no one will tell you "you can't do that". I know the place exists. I've met someone that lives there. Maturity? Bah! I'm going to slide down the driveway in my shoes right now. Better to regret what you did do than what you didn't. Three Writers... ================ "People seldom see the halting and painful steps by which the most insignificant success is achieved." [Anne Sullivan] I was thinking of what would be the perfect way to finish this issue. I wanted it to be special. It's like your first day in a new environment, you want it to be extra-perfect because you know that you'll never get a second chance at that day again (until you move, or restart). Plus, whenever you start off on the right foot, things tend to flow in that direction. Finally it dawned on me as I was driving home this afternoon. I already had the Greg Webster article ready to go with this issue, but what would happen if I gave some room to two other writers. All have affected me in some way, and I think that this is perhaps the best way for me to acknowledge them. All four of us, side by side, each with our own ideas of what we want the world to be, and each of us with our own similar, but different, ways of finding and expressing who we are. Professor Zen, as I've said in the past, is one of the select few that were responsible for the creation of "The Eternity Articles." At the time, I had only read two or three issues of "Zen Anarchy," but that was all that was needed to start the reaction. I'm tempted to say that he truly lives the Do It Yourself lifestyle, he knows what he wants, and it would probably be best to stay out of his way when he's going after it. Zen Anarchy is available from ftp.etext.org in the pub/Zines/ZenAnarchy directory, and is in a postscript format. Dahven White, is one of the most proudly honest people that I've ever encountered. I've never met her, but each issue of "Cultural Debris" brings her into focus a little more in my mind. I'd be lying if I said that she wasn't partly responsible for my own rapid growth, and for the progression of "The Eternity Articles" from random ranting and whining to this issue that you're reading right now. She helped me become who I am, instead of who I wanted others to think of me as. All that and it's fun to read. Cultural Debris can be found at http://www.cyberzine.com/culture/. Greg Webster, is the most recent of the writers. He started "The Eidolonica Papers" last month. So what's his story? I think he walked along the same line that I had. He wasn't sure which side he should be on, life or death. He looked deep into himself and saw that there was something worth saving, and at that moment, he chose life. As much credit as I deserve for creating Beyond Eternity, he deserves half of it. I'm not sure if he suggested starting over, or if I decided it first, but the end result is what matters, and here it is. You can get Eidolonica by sending mail to Greg, his address is listed below. Am I exaggerating when I thank each of them for saving my life? No. Of course, I don't mean it literally, at least not in the physical sense, but I wouldn't want to guess where I would be without any of them. I Sue You, You Sue Me... ======================== "Sometimes I really wonder about the old saying that if you put a million monkeys in a room with typewriters, one would eventually pound out Shakespeare. The rest would probably be pounding out stereo manuals or government mandates and tax forms." [Professor Zen] by: Professor Zen reprinted from "Zen Anarchy", Volume 1, Issue 6 It seems that anything and everything today is litigatable. Just today I heard that the California State Supreme Court is allowing a family lawyer to sue R. J. Renyolds over their Joe Camel advertising campaign, saying that it encourages teenagers to smoke. What in the hell is next? Is this stupid bitch going to go after the Classic Movie Channel, since they show films in which children might see old movie stars smoking? That seems to be her next logical step. Then perhaps she can go after network television shows that actually would dare to have people smoking, GOD FORBID! I mean, don't we all know now that all these people are trying to do is protect us. We're soooooo stupid, we just can't think for ourselves anymore, can we? Of course not. I think it's high time that we all pack our possessions and move to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue and get our rooms before the rest of the sheep catch on to this. Bill Clinton's band of neo-fascist safety Nazies are trying every day to control every aspect of your lives. So are Jerry Falwell's and (insert your favourite right wing group here...)'s group of safety zealots. Folks, both the left and the right are out to fuck you. They want to take away your rights and obtain total control. You are being given a virtual mind-fuck. There are no two ways about it. When the movie, "The Crow", opened on a Friday the thirteenth, the expatriates of the eighties and I went to go see it. For those of you who enjoy dark films where good does triumph over evil because of the strength of love, go see it. The rest of you probably won't have any idea what in the hell is going on. No matter. Anyway, I go to the snack bar before the film starts, partially because I want to get some of that popcorn with the 10-30 coloured Valvoline they call butter flavoured topping, and partially because I'm damn sick and tired of watching the idiotic Kodak Carousel slide show advertising some shlock car dealer and moronic movie trivia that no one cares about. Now back to our story... After I made my purchases, and I'm going back to my seat, I encounter one of the minimum wage Clearasil Nazies (usher) who is asking for people to show him their tickets. Of course, being the shit that I can be, I shot him a look that basically said, "Don't ask me, unless you really want to know." Apparently, it was enough to satisfy him, so I went on by. It also may have been the fact that I stood about 24 inches taller than him. As I'm walking down to the theatre, a kid comes running by me. One of the other safety Nazis tells this kid to stop running and walk. Now as we all know, teenage boys have enormous amounts of energy that usually are depleted completely on their wedding day. So this kid was doing nothing more serious than having a good time, albeit for a short amount of time. The walk to the theatre was only probably 20 feet at most. So the kid does stop running after he's told to do so. Fine, but me being the Zen Anarchists that I am, I lean over to him and say, "As soon as you get around the corner, go for it." It was the most amazing thing! The light bulb went on in his head. Even if for that split second, we won a battle. And you have to remember that wars are won with battles and any victory, no matter the size, is a victory. The Washington Wardens want to push the Clipper chip on us. They want to take over health care. They want to build the information superhighway - like they have a fucking clue as to what that even is... Folks, these people want to run your lives. Wake up and smell the MJB before it's too late. I figure with the advent of cheaper and cheaper DTP [Desktop Publishers] and hardware and the advancements being made to the net we stand a chance to turn back this tide. We'd better, unless of course you like being told what to think, how to think, why you think what you think, etc... If that ever happens, I think I might see if Kurt Cobain has room in his new lodgings for a few more people. I don't know, however, if I would be a traveller or the travel agent... For all the puritanical fucks who think that I'm advocating violence against public officials, fuck off. I don't advocate killing anybody. I advocate the free exchange of ideas. That probably makes me more dangerous than a serial killer. If people think for themselves, both the left and right are fucked forever. I'm not holding my breath, but just one mind being exposed, will eventually become a virus, spreading and replicating. It doesn't even matter if you agree or not. That's not important. Not at all. What is important is that you listen to other people and weigh all the information you can get your hands on. Change your mind on occasion. Remember, after all, it's your mind. Use it or surrender it. Lobster Tales ============= "It's true that I am kind of misanthropic. I think there are about 5 billion people too many on the planet. I don't have a lot of sympathy for statistics. Gerald thinks 100 lives are 100 times more valuable than one life. I think, 'Pass the cereal, please.'" [Dahven White] by: Dahven White reprinted from "Cultural Debris", Volume 1, Issue 9 Yesterday, I listened to Ted trying to peddle the Olds to the auto wreckers. "No, it doesn't actually run," I heard him say, "but it's got a beautiful interior, crushed velvet in a really striking shade of sherbet green." It was horrible and agonizing. The Oldsmobile has valiantly traversed the continent on several occasions. It has weathered winters in Montreal and summers on the prairies. It has not complained about crappy gas and cheap oil. But somewhere it is written how many strokes a piston will strike and the Oldsmobile has struck its last. It suffered a bout of incontinence on the Grandview Highway, dropped its transmission during rush hour, and was towed home in disgrace. "Let go of the car," I said to Ted after six months. "Don't force it to sit ignominiously in front of the house, shamed, unused, its tires going flat for everyone to see. Leave it a vestige of dignity." The neighbours were beginning to complain. After twelve months, I said, "Don't think of it as a casualty in the war of time. Think of it as an organ donor. It cheats death by living on as parts in the bodies of other cars with adventures still before them." Ted is a Taurus. He values loyalty above all else. After a year and a half, I said, "Ted, it's time," and he knew I was right. Ted didn't want me to watch him while he phoned the wreckers. No man wants to be witnessed in the act of betrayal. I sat in the next room where I could still hear the sound of death. Each beeping number sounded like a tiny yelp to my guilty ears. And I thought, "Oh GOD! Let this be over soon. It's just like boiling LOBSTERS." You know what I mean? Everybody in my family loves lobsters but no one wants to be the one to drop them into the pot. When I was six, my mother convinced me that the lobsters could be dropped into the pot with impunity if they were put to sleep first. This could be accomplished by stroking their tails until they curled them up under their lobster bellies. With the benefit of hindsight, I have to admit that it seems unlikely that they didn't notice being boiled alive. But at the time, I believed that I was sending the lobsters to their deaths with happy visions of algae dancing in their heads. And I believed that the killing must fall to me since I was the only person willing to stroke the lobsters until they dropped their antennae. No lobster ever faced death with open eyes in my house. An hour before dinner, I'd start cooing to the lobsters. One lobster would drift off to sleep in my hands and another would wake up. Dinner would be delayed. It was a time-consuming process. Do you have any idea how many hours of my childhood I spent stroking lobster tails? I grew up on the East Coast. Summers were an endless lobster party. If I had used those hours more fruitfully, I might have learned to juggle knives or... or repair transmissions. Can you believe it? My treacherous mother exploited my over-developed superego and condemned me to an eternity with lobster juice on my hands. Not to mention a lifetime of failed transmissions! By the time I was 18, I had pretty much realized that my efforts were wasted. I gave up stroking lobster tails but I wasn't ready to give up eating them. Fortunately, I started having boyfriends around that time. There was another crisis a few years later when I learned that lobsters are better steamed than boiled. I phoned the Aquarium to ask if steaming would cause a slower, more agonizing death than boiling. They didn't know. I phoned restaurants. Try this sometime: "Hello, Bishops? Do you serve lobster? No, I don't want to make a reservation. I need to know if a lobster will suffer a more painful death through steaming than boiling. Could I speak to your chef please?" I know how Ted felt when he condemned the Olds to the auto wreckers. He felt like he was dropping the lobsters into a pot of boiling water. He felt the weight of that death as keenly as though he himself were the one clamping the metal jaws of the car crusher around the Olds' slender frame. And listening to him do it was like listening to the lobsters screaming, beating their claws against the sides of the pot, their joints hissing under the force of the expanding air. If I were a better person, I would have done the dirty deed myself. But let me tell you, now that I'm a grown-up, I NEVER let myself be tricked into killing the lobsters. I LOVE being an adult. On Fear Of Success ================== "Serge was an older man, in his 60's. He always had a joke and a smile and a wink for those around him. I spent most of my lunch hours talking with him as we walked around a nearby pond (something you need to do during lunch hours if you are a telemarketer)." [Greg Webster] by: Greg Webster Why am I telling you this? Good question. Glad you asked. I want to let anyone who is like me in the problems I'm having here know that they are not alone, and maybe give them the little bit of good advice I can give. Hope I'm "successful". Enjoy. When someone (like me) makes a decision to get life moving in a positive direction, a lot of emotions spring up - ones I never knew I had, and never expected to have to think about. Certainly I never expected to be afraid of doing a good job and succeeding at something. Three months ago I got involved in a government sponsored course covering all the basic and important issues of job seeking and employment. The course involves a lot of things: self- confidence, self-esteem, conflict resolution and management, on-the-job first aid, computer basics (not needed by me), high school equivalency (not needed by me either), stress management, personal development, job shadowing (following someone around for a while, learning about their job), work experience (free labour for a company in your career field) and, most important of all, finding you a career. This last bit is exactly why I entered this course, a decent job in my chosen field (once I found out what that was). Something that I'd enjoy, and something that I would stick with, simply because I'd enjoy it. I went through a lot of different ideas of what I wish to be when I "grow up", finally coming to rest on computer instruction for employment counselling or business schools. And it all seems to be working out for me, by the time you read this I've already gone to aid instructors at an employment counselling business and a business training school. Whether or not I'm successful at these work experiences is really immaterial. The problem, as I told you, is fear of success. When I went to speak to the people at the business school, I felt like I was moving forward at a very nice, fast pace. Maybe too fast, because my mind decided to sabotage me. Luckily my subconscious didn't pick the interview time to do so, instead waiting until I was home alone to slap self-doubt onto my soul. Obviously, I need to take care of this feeling, so I can start moving ahead with the success I'm looking for. So, how the heck do I do that? Well, first off I've talked about how I felt. With friends, with the facilitators at school, and mainly with myself. I read a few books on related subjects in the past few days trying to calm myself down and talk myself out of that lack of self-worth that is carried inside all of us. And because I went all out trying to get past this, I've learned a few things: - I still want success, no matter what my demons say. - Everyone feels self-doubt. Everyone. - I'm worth only as much as I say I am worth. Tricky little thing, my mind... it reads those sentences and asks "What if?". What if there are reasons for self-doubt? What if I am not "meant for success"? What if I'm not "worth it"? Well, I can't answer for any of you, but to hell with my mind! I spent far too much time trapped by the bullshit everyone else fed me, I can't spend the rest of my life trapped by the bullshit I'm feeding myself. I've got my problems, but so what? I know I'm qualified for what I'm doing... I like the tutoring and teaching that I have done... I want to see where everything goes when I put a little effort in. I've got to get past the problems I do have and accept so that I have the self-confidence I need to be successful. The biggest problem I have is that I'm ordinarily not a very organized person, and I know this contributes to the troubles I'm talking about here, so I have to change that part of my routine. Any suggestions for doing so will surely be accepted and tested, success in what I'm doing is surely that important to me. So far I found: I need SHELVING, DAMMIT!!! SHELVING!!! I need BOOKCASES UPON BOOKCASES!!! I need a -*=|SYSTEM|=*- !!! Now, if I could figure out what that system is, I could probably solve all sorts of world problems, organize world contraception efforts, and reduce the deficit. I need a success in order to start working on my systems that will enable me to get a success. Seems like circular logic, but really it isn't. I need one small success in order to get my bigger success, and that's exactly what everyone's been telling me all along. Start small, keep working, and eventually it will all come together. The "system" idea is one of those first steps, one of those "small successes". Hey, seems like it could work for me. The lottery is the only other way I can see my way around that. And so far I've had horrible luck with that. I have no idea whether it could work for you, seems like it isn't too farfetched that others need that organization, or need a "system" to get them going, so that's what I'm suggesting here. So... perhaps I can't offer you the solution to all your problems in an instant. But maybe, just maybe... I can suggest that you start moving, keep moving, and the momentum will keep you going. Keep swimming folks... and eventually the water may learn to hold you up. Administrivia... ================ Beyond Eternity (ISSN 1203-5416) is a monthly serial that is written (for the most part) and compiled by Sanjay Singh, and then edited by Paul Sheen and Sanjay Singh. You can find older (or even current) issues from any of these places... mail: eternity@cyberspace.org web: http://www.interlog.com/~vash ftp: ftp.etext.org: /pub/Zines/Eternity/ gopher: gopher.etext.org (follow the prompts) usenet: alt.zines subscriptions: Just send me mail, I'll add you to the list. All I ask is that you let me know what you think about "Beyond Eternity...", and you can even mention how you found out about it. It's a small price to pay, but that's all I ask for. As always, if you have a question, comment, statement, rant, or anything, feel free to let me know. (Who knows, you might even feel better that you did it.) There's always room for me to improve, and there's always room for outside contributions. When I say that one person can make a difference, that includes you. Rules Of The Game ================= I take full responsibility of the overall content here. There might be other writers but what goes into this is my choice. Copyright is held by whoever wrote the article, and if it doesn't say who they were, then it was me. I'd strongly suggest asking them for permission before you reprint anything that was written in here (this includes my stuff). Chances are that I won't object, but I'd still like to know. In past issues of The Eternity Articles, I was asked if what I had written was true. I'll state this for the record now, "everything I write is true to me". As for the other writers, well, you'd have to ask them. As a general rule I'm not going to print pure fiction anymore, unless I think that it has a message that's worth relaying. I think that's all that needs to be said. Talk to you next month. Sanjay Singh (11/27/95)