Sunday, September 11, 2011

Poet / Priest / Warrior / Wanker

My favourite Finn, P2P, wrote to me and I wrote back.

Hey P,

Ha ha ha, well, that's a bit spooky. I am precisely in the middle of the, ahem, 'priest v warrior' thing myself. To be perfectly honest I'm neither but it sounds nice to put the conversation in such terms. Very 'Grrrrrr'. And did someone say 'wannabe' just now? No? Good.

Actually, I was doing really well at the shedding-of-ego thing for a while there, right up until I started doing my blog and people began complimenting me on my writing. Then slowly but surely the ego kicks back in and I want to be seen and heard. If I'm not, then I don't exist. Perish the thought!

So I exist, and at the moment I'm in amongst the tedium of buying a van so I can kit it out to live in. I'm as slow as a Finnish Winter, ha ha. But it's easy to dawdle what with living at my Mum's. Like some kind of sitcom caricature. It's me transported back to my childhood and I dislike it intensely. Dope is the way to cope. And the way to get nothing done. But never mind all that, I’ve run out of dope now and slowly but surely everything’s getting sorted out. And once that happens I should be in a position to eat my ego cake and have it too.

Did you ever read Papillon? It was pretty good, I actually read it twice. And there's one bit in there where Papillon is sent to the smallest of the Devil's Islands which is so isolated that there aren't even any guards. The prisoners live in little shacks and look after their farm plots, chickens, and pigs which supplement the food that's brought by boat from the mainland once a week. For Papillon that was some kind of desolate hell, with him spending his whole time figuring out how to escape.

Weirdly enough Papillon repeatedly finds himself in paradise but, what with being obsessed with revenge against those that sent him there (um... to paradise) he can only think of leaving. What an idiot. For me it sounds like heaven. The only thing this Devil's-Island-of-my-imagination is missing is the internet. I don't need it as a daily gig - once a week would be fine. Okay, that sounds do-able so why don't I gun for that?

And that's what the van is for. Do you know my plan? To buy a van? And drive aran? Sorry, I was gripped by the muse there. ('Cough!' she said, ha ha ha). Anyway... I don't actually want to drive around Australia like some kind of gift-shop frequenting tourist. God spare me tourist towns. Instead, I'll be heading in the opposite direction. I want to find a place barely on the map that makes its own sense and feels right. Somewhere I can live an ascetic life without any distractions. This is the real world, you understand. The other world, the virtual world, the world of the conversation in my head, I reserve for the net. And this will be nobody.

When I was at the Zen temple in Japan the first thing the Abbot's assistant said to me was: 'Shiraberi wa dame' ~ 'Chit-chat is bad'. And that's true but the temple was full of its own contradictions and that phrase likewise. So I've refigured it. This pivots on ignorance and delusion - under these headings conversation isn't bad per se. If a discussion seeks as its goal to dispel ignorance and delusion it's a worthy thing surely? Excellent, so where do we find such conversations?

Certainly nowhere in this real world. Friends, relatives, whomever - an endless series of discussions about house prices, shopping, and a thousand other worthless topics. Of course, if it was framed in an understanding of the-world-as-falsity that would be fine. But it never is. In a world without context God help anyone who wants to reset a conversation in any context that isn't inane. Ayah, let's change the subject. The only place I find conversations that are possessed of context (and thus aren't bullshit) is on the net.

Okay then, that's what I'll do. In this world where my exterior skin is me, I'll have nothing to say. I will be that zen priest. Meanwhile in the virtual world (that people in the real world are free to visit, and do all the time) I shall be... well, let's say a 'threepenny warrior', ha ha, albeit with words as a weapon. And sure, I sound like a wanker but, you know, whatever.

God knows how it'll work. Right now, there's a certain intellectual logic to it, but the realness of the world has a way of pulling threadbare logic to pieces. In all probability I'll crash and burn but that's fine - no one ever said being bloody-minded was easy. Madness looms of course, but only if I forget why I'm there and what I'm doing it for. The thought I'll need to remember will be:

"What the fuck did you expect? You knew this was coming. Empty your head of all that whiney shit. The world is beautiful. The Buddha was just a man and what one man can do, another can also. Besides which, the only certainty is change and however you feel now, that's only now."
I've done this mindset before - like every time I quit smoking and wonder why I'm alive. And yeah I know it sounds like some cheesy Eckhart Tolle platitude but that doesn't mean that it's without utility. In many ways it's just mindfulness, a way of stepping sideways from your unhappiness and viewing it as a thing-not-you. A thing that can be let go of, sure enough.

Not forgetting of course, that the conversations on the net, even though they're possessed of a worthy context can still serve as clutter for the mind. They certainly do for me. Do you ever read Jeff Wells? He's very good, easily a better writer than I am. His latest piece, whilst being somewhat abstruse, has some interesting points not least of which are his thoughts on the effect computers have on the brain.

But all things have a flipside and computers are no different. None of us would be here, or be the people we've become, if weren't for the curiosity machine - Jeff Wells included. Paraphrasing Paracelsus, 'Everything is a poison, it all depends on the dose'. And yep, I just looked that up on the net.

So! I'm going sit out the net as a day to day thing. It's just more chit-chat, and like he said, shiraberi wa dame. Instead I'll be in the middle of nowhere writing, taking photos, painting - ideally with nothing but the wind in the casuarinas for company. It will all be about focusing as opposed to being dissipated. And then every weekend I'll drive into town, hit the local library, and load up the latest piece. I'm already prepped for this: on my hard-drive I have the OED (plus another dozen dictionaries), Wikipedia, Wikiquotes, Britannica, and an e-book and photo/art collection you could barely jump over. I am my own library, ha ha.

But this will mean the end of me as the chatty chap in the comments, my own included. I expect I'll miss it, but this and a thousand other things. No great loss.

So there you go mate. That's what I'm doing. Now all I need is a fucking van and I'm gone. Do you know anyone wanting to sell a late model, high-roof, long wheel base Ford Transit? In New South Wales? For under $15,000? No, me neither.

But never mind, I'll get there.


Anonymous said...

I,I monsieur nobody,am in the same place as yourself....
I much prefer the healing type of poem but that old warrior turns up and well he just basicly wants to take the oligarchal tyrants or extreme disconnection round the back and teach it a lesson,,,,

and us being the hobbits we are,craving adventure with that deep yearning of truth get stuck,
and mess up....

I am sorry for all the times I have messed up,I suspect I will mess up again many more times ,I suppose we have to mess up, its the finding out how not to do something....

anyway mr nobodus good travels to you,hopefully will soon be doing something much like yourself soon...

deep respects....neil

Anonymous said...

Yo Nobs, good to see you about again.

We could all do with a bit of habit and burden shedding.

kenny said...

The zen practice of living in the moment has gotten me through many a day but my dream of being the buddha in the van in search of something or other never came to be. Good luck to you and have fun.

Anonymous said...

I have thought about it nobody,,,,,

your right I am a wanker,so am giving up
writing poetry on the internet.


nobody said...

Sorry, hello boys and girls, and thank you for the kind thoughts. It's really weird being back at the church. I kind of love it and hate it. It's so much more comfy over at the haiku blog.

And Neil, what? Why do you imagine yourself as a wanker? Or that I said that? I don't understand.

Any use of the term wanker in this piece was entirely self-deprecatory, ie. about me. I understand that there are real poets, real priests, and real warriors out there. Who, sure enough, aren't wankers.

But I am, ha ha. All of the above heroic descriptions, when applied to me, reek of intellectual conceit. It's an idea in my head that I haven't made happen. And somehow I suspect that when I do make it happen, it will be an ill-fitting suit that I'll never be quite comfortable in. Because I don't know that I'm actually that guy, if you can dig it.

But maybe I can be? Who knows? I'll give it a shot and see what happens. Like I said, crashing and burning is definitely on the cards.

Otherwise I always liked your poems. And I said so. Just lately at English John's I seem to recall.


Back to my initial thing here of loving and hating this blog - believe it not, I am not thick skinned. This in spite of me going batshit at certain bullshit artists, most lately in other people's comments.

For instance, the last piece I wrote here nobody's buddy C wrote, or whatever it was called, was what I'm going to dub a perfect bridge burner. The aforementioned C, my friend for the last 24 years no longer talks to me. She was so pissed off (I'm assuming) that she never spoke to me again, not even to say she was pissed off.

That's an extreme example sure, but even my most forbearing friends view me as um... I don't know, foolish? gullible? given to believing nonsense? Something like that. And C's not the first friend to fall by the wayside. I have a feeling given enough time I'll have no friends left at all.

What does it all mean? Hell if I know. I've no idea what the fuck I'm doing.

Except for going back to the comments from the last piece to find out who I should be apologising to for me not replying to their thoughtful comments. They were very nice and it was poor of me not to acknowledge them. I was stoned but that's not really much of an excuse. Back soon.

nobody said...

Yes, it all comes back to me now. Tony, ex-PM Kevin Rudd, and Slozo. It was kind of you to have popped in during my... if I call it a 'sabbatical' will that make it sound dignified? Excellent. Anyway, thanks for that. Even though I was in amongst navel-gazing and was too slack to reply I did appreciate it.

I actually had a couple of other very interesting visits while I was off sabbaticking, or whatever it is one does on a sabbatical. One was comedic - does anyone here remember stevieb? Actually I should say, 'accused paedophile stevieb' and sure it was me what accused him but it's not like he gave me a choice in the matter. Anyway, he popped into gloat over the fact that I'd quit writing. Or something. I could go back and read it of course, but really who gives a shit?

The other fellow who popped in was none other than Howard G Fass into the comments section of the article I wrote about him Howard G Fass! Come on Down! For those who haven't read it, there's the link. And for those who did, you may recall I asked Howard to pop in and have a chat. I also suggested two possible options for him: one was to act disappointed and hurt; and the other was to come in screaming and yelling. Hats off to Howard (one of those funny Muslim hats no doubt) because he figured a third option - to act as if nothing had happened at all, wish everyone well, give everyone a laurel and hearty handshake, and leave!

Genius really. Except for how really fucking weird it was. It was like someone walking through a blood-spattered room and admiring the chest of drawers in the corner, the lampshade, the prints on the wall, and then wandering out as cool as a cucumber.

Plug that together with the weird statcounter action I get through google for him, as well as his sideline as a corporate bio-tech guy (is AP here? interesting stuff mate) and his picture gets ever weirder. Perhaps I'll front page him again? If I'm feeling bloody maybe.

That's enough of that. Off to watch QI. Ciao Ciao.

Franz said...


I would have pegged you as a ROOTS OF HEAVEN sort of guy, not a Papillon guy, but no matter. I loved both novels, froggie or not.

Romain Gary was what I wanted to be when I read ROOTS OF HEAVEN, way back in the Navy. Gary wrote ROOTS OF HEAVEN and killed himself sometime later. Took care of the ego thing but good.

Errol Flynn was in the movie, which basically sucked except for Errol Flynn. I got it on tape. It's about saving the elephants in Africa, all these guys who were in camps during WWII are saying, fuck all! We're FINISHED with everything civilized! We're saving the elephants, that's it!

Errol Flynn says he'll join, but only if they save his jumping bean Toto too. Sure, they say.

ROOTS OF HEAVEN is strange in the way some of your posts are strange, nobes, and that is not an insult in any way.

Bless you, and Romain Gary and Papillon and neil and Toto too. We have to save each other, it's all that's left.

nobody said...

Franz, you amaze me. Here am I, the cinema junkie, and I've never bloody heard of it. Give us a second, I'm off to wikipedia. And then off to frostwire to see if it's there. Don't tell anyone but I've become a bit torrent junkie. The day I found the OED it was like I'd died and gone to heaven. Back in a bit.

nobody said...

Wow, John Huston. Sounds cool. No sign of it on frostwire sadly - film or book. But the latter might be in the public library. I'm off there tomorrow (I go there weekly to photocopy the Times crossword) and I'll have a look. Thanks mate.

Pstonie said...

Friends have a way of... evaporating when you start paying attention to the things that affect our lives.

It's perfectly ok to just smoke quietly while they discuss rugby or any of the other accredited male interests, but not if you go off script.

I would guess because most people really don't have enough energy left to think after work.

P2P said...

I guess I should reply to this here, to keep the topic swirling forward. such an important pair of two extremes of the same end - priests and warriors (and, of course, poets and wankers).

it took me months, maybe even over a year to consciously wrestle a choice between the two paths. first time I remember you and me to touch upon the subject was when I emailed you about your view on the so called concept of "dropping out." the exchange didn't lead anywhere, then (I remember you said you'd written a lot on the subject and were supposed to post it up here in the church, but I guess rather than that it, as a topic, contributed to you falling off the wagon in this corner of the blogsphere).

during the past months I realized that even if I were to drop out from the wheels of society and drive to the sunset it wouldn't mean I'd be on the path of shedding my ego. I realized I'd already decided very early on to go for the warrior path - the left hand path. even if I chose to do my fighting in some other sphere than the sphere of "society" as I've now decided, I'd still be going forward with a sword in my hand and a firm ego on the making. the priestly path for me equals death (which I guess is untrue, because "according to scripture" both paths lead to a similar degree of illumination, enlightenment, what have you. just like being a poet or a wanker leads to the same goal of, erm, spreading the seed of your thought?)

I have not read papillon, but from your description of it he sounds of someone I could relate to. I remember myself, back more than a decade ago when I really was but a kid, thinking about the concept of heaven (or paradise), and how I wanted to stay as far away from it as possible. it is not because I as an individual would be against peace, prosperity and what have you, but instead I want to exist in surroundings which support and push me to higher degrees of self-development and such. what's there for a warrior to fight for or against in paradise? windmills?


P2P said...


I'm a bit sad to read that the only place for conversations of context found by you is online. I thank my luck in life for having a bunch of great friends who are more or less ready to dive into the depths of existence through conversations, and especially when there does not pass a week when I do not meet new, random people who are ready to share a few larger than life sentences with me.

which reminds me of this:

Pstonie said: "Friends have a way of... evaporating when you start paying attention to the things that affect our lives.

It's perfectly ok to just smoke quietly while they discuss rugby or any of the other accredited male interests, but not if you go off script."

I think you tap some truth with that. I remember the words of one of my best friends, uttered years ago: "Jenna, I love you, but you are a very "heavy" person to live with." I immediately knew what she meant. no matter who's the person next to me, I always speak my mind as it is, because my heart wills but good and thus I have no need to censor myself. but, in this world we live in, there's a big portion of us who do not have the energy or the will or the courage to face things as they are. thus, they tend to shoot the messenger.

at times I fear that when I grow older and my friends begin to stabilize their lives to certain status quos my company becomes truly intolerable. I already have big issues with men of my age, who're in general up here lack confidence to the degree where they view me as the scariest thing they've seen. there's also some gender stereotypes behind it, which would appear to support an idea of women supposedly being priest-like in the lack of a strong, well built ego.

read some bits of the jeff wells piece you linked to, and I must say I don't like the apocalyptic tone of it. I know many transhumanists and such up here in f-land, and from their juvenile being I've drawn the conclusion that all the sinister matter lurking between their moist ears will be relieved once well functioning and economic sex-bots take over the markets. positive thinking? yeah, that's what I've taught my ego to master.

a lot of other thoughts on the matter surf in my head, but have to stop now to take a deep breath.

Anonymous said...

I thought of that when I 'retired' Nobes; to get a Transit van and travel. Didn't do it. Settled for popping off to places for a month or so eg. Lake Argyle, Kalgoorlie, just a few places I had always wanted to visit, Darwin (I don't know why), Tasmania next. Decided I don't really like travel. Settled for small (<1000ppl) country Queensland town as home base not far from where I lived my married life. Kids live 300-400k away – one north, one west, which suits. Mates live 50k away which also suits; a beer or a visit every so often when I want - great. Really enjoy online stuff – comment a bit at local newspaper site, they don't censor me much but I do have a different view to most so I enjoy. So, don't be a stranger. I'll always comment at your sites as myself or Kev or John or even Julia so long as she is there long enough or whoever I feel I need to be to get my point across. I won't tell you I enjoy your writing as you are ego health conscious so I'll just say all the best for the future and thank you for what you do.

nobody said...

P, you never cease to amaze mate. You're so... brimming. I'm not surprised you make men nervous. You can be overwhelming. Certainly, writing back to you is a difficult assignment. Somehow you fill my head with tangents. I can't remember if I told you but that last time I wrote to you it ended up at a couple thousand words. And they went nowhere. I was going to hack into pieces and make it into... what was I going to make it into? I couldn't even remember what I was talking about.

Hmm... you're not a superhero from that Heroes series are you? Your super power is to make people forget what they were talking about, ha ha. And I have the perfect superhero name: Un-Finnish Girl! To The Rescue etc! And there you are trapped by the supervillain (who, of course, has to do to do the obligatory monologue before they kill you) but before they get to the end of it they forget what they were talking about and you escape. Yay!

Um... what were we talking about? Let me go check what you wrote...

Oh yes. Finland. I know you bag the place out but I like the sound of it from that article. Australians are a bunch of sheep for the most part. I've been reading about the Icelandic revolution (sure that's not Finland but it's not a million miles away neither) but the thing is, that could never happen here. We'd all view it as none of our business, something that someone else will take care of. It's not in our lexicon.

You may disagree but to a certain extent it also reminds me of Italy. I couldn't believe the number of people who, within five minutes of meeting me, would start in on a conversation about philosophy. Australians would rather eat their own earwax than talk about philosophy. Anyway I liked it. And I suspect I'd like Finland. Except for those Winters.

But back to the priest and warrior thing. To a certain extent I've done all that travel and adventure. If there was some crazy rich person out there who wanted to pay me to travel about that would be fine and I'd do it, but I'm no longer hellbent to do it for my own sake.

That's why I'm just going to buy a van and... go... travelling... wait did I just disappear up my own arse? Not really the van is actually just a means to an end. The end is finding somewhere to live. And then hoping that my 50oz of gold will be enough to buy it. In Sydney it's just a deposit. And all I get for my money is debt. Fuck that. I'm thinking somewhere isolated and unpleasant with no one wanting to live there and I can pick up something cheap.

nobody said...

Oh hello Tony. You didn't care for the travelling gig? Could you not make yourself enjoy it by sheer force of will or something? Actually don't answer because I've got my hands over my ears and I'm going LA LA LA LA etc.

To be honest, I could see me not grooving on it as well but I've backed myself into a corner and that's that, off I go. Also I've no family that I need to be near so it's fine.

And perhaps I'll love it? It's not impossible.

I didn't mention this in the piece but what I want to do is largely driven by the fact that I don't wish to participate in usury. Or more specifically pay tax. It only goes to the Reserve Bank anyway and they can go fuck themselves. Anyway being that hell-bent really narrows your options. Cities are pretty much out. Which is fine, since I've had it with them anyway.

Anyway I'm rambling now. I'm off to read the long David Ray Griffin piece that Sabretache put up at his wikileaks site. Does everyone go there? I think it's brilliant. Ciao.

john said...

Cheers nobody. Is it odd that we have to imagine ourselves in a possible future to make it happen. Making plans, as I expect most know it.

There is a selfless life of helping others, some people can do this but I'm not ready. Can we not be both warrior and poet or wanker or priest as the situation requires?

Then there is the contemplation of nature, as with the birds. I watch birds sometimes and am struck by how busy they are.

Friends fall away or we fall away from them by changing ourselves in ways that no longer fit. Sometimes you find new people you click with straight away, we know it when it happens, though it is rare, but doesn't that make it more delightful.

Human contact, in however small a form seems necessary, though I often think of people like Ram Bahadur Bamjan or others less famous, who might just quietly disappear. They can do it. People do it here.

Anyway, good luck with the van hunting and the hope that your imagined future soon becomes a present reality. Personally I think it all sounds great.

A. Peasant said...

hey there nobs, very nice to see you blogging again. i will check out that wanker Howard, thank you. as for the problem of the two worlds, i keep them mainly separate so they don't collide.

Anonymous said...

I spoke to a dwarf today.

I got money back from the taxman today.

According to Dr Luscher:

Green - Be noble and compassionate.
Red - Be self confident but humble.
Yellow - Be optimistic and, going with the flow, expect things to work out well.
Blue - Be content, even if you are not a billionaire in a palace on the Med.

- Aangirfan

P2P said...


tangents - how well that opened your mindscape up for me. you see, my mind has some weird anomaly which makes it prone to find an association between any given a and b. I've got through most of my education by writing long essays on whatever topics without any need for really studying. if I just hear, see or read a thing once and have it linked to my internal web of associations, I will remember it forever, and also always find new ways to use it.

those superpowers described sound ironically bad, for the one thing I really want is to hear what people honestly have to say. I've developed quite a few methods with which to make people open up, in addition to having some weird natural quality which draws strangers to pour their souls on my table (on a negative note, I've actually had twice an older drunken man come up to me to confess the worst of crimes on my book - raping kids). what can I say... sometimes I've thought that maybe my mind's capacity at recording by paying full attention to everything gets noticed by the subconscious of those around me who want to be remembered, recognized, whatever - all very selfish desires of people possessed by the fear of death, I guess.

in the last couple of days I've spread my mind towards nullifying the whole division between priests and warriors, by seeing the process of belonging to one or the other a rather fluctuating one. for one thing, I realized myself to be often completely selfless when it comes to my loved ones, especially the family. there is no fights to be fought in a sphere where the deepest values are statically tied to blood - whatever happens, nothing really changes.

somehow I don't buy into the explanation of the van being but "means to an end." I think you're just stepping up the warrior gear. instead of directing your fighting spirit to external stuff always so plentiful in the sphere of society, you're setting yourself against yourself. I've done pilgrimages and isolated myself socially in the past too (pretty easy in the land of damp dark forests), and in the end it has all been about one part of me testing an another part of me until reaching the point of the need for them to learn how to function in unison. social isolation is the best thing ever for moral growth. who the hell wants to be stuck in the same body with an asshole?

nobody said...

Hullo John,

I was in half a mind to cut and paste your comment here onto the front page and throw my thing away. It was very good.

And new friends, absolutely. Plug that into my mention of usury just now, and a thought occurs: apart from my artist buddy Ledge, I don't know anyone who doesn't have a mortgage. And never mind dogs being for life, they ain't got nothin' on a mortgage. I kind of view a mortgage as a deal with the devil. Once you're in, they own you and your life is now set.

Unless you somehow become rich of course. I expect that this does happen but for everyone I know the dream of it remains just that, a dream.

Anyway the reason I connect that to the concept of friends is that once you succumb to the yoke of usury everything is made subordinate to it. Even how you think and talk. And there you have me and my friends. The things I wish to discuss are now rendered silly and foolish, things of no value in this real world of paying the mortgage. And tax and all those other death-by-a-thousand-cut charges for power, phone, school fees etc, each of which is inflated by the cascading costs of the usurers (who of course made the money from thin air).

Hmm... it occurs to me now that usury exists not just because of its ability to bleed people of their financial wherewithal but also their mental and spiritual wherewithal. Interesting.

And so - new friends with a new variety of wherewithal. Sounds good to me. Not that I'm abandoning my old friends of course. I'll keep in touch and see them again I'm sure.

And thanks for the pointer to that Bamjan fellow. Very interesting. It's possible he's for real. And sure I'd like to do what he's doing but I suspect that I'd get hungry and thirsty. Anyway I wish him well and pray that he can resist the embrace of the death cult because what I know of the satanist mind-control crowd and their undying interests in cults he's just the chap they're looking for. It's poor of me I know but I can picture him ending up with his very own Brian Epstein.

And thanks AP - if you google him it's almost like you'll find two people. One is a besuited bio-tech corporate type striding the halls of power, and the other is a bleeding heart Buddhist/Muslim fighting for the rights of the oppressed (as long as they're in China, that is). He's all too unlikely for me.

And Aang! Why are you here? Why aren't you over at the haiku blog? It's perfect for schoolgirls you know. Tthey'll love it. But you'll have to tell them no haiku about Justin Beiber. Unless of course I put up a picture of Justin Beiber in which case it would be perfectly correct and proper. Hmm... that might be good for a giggle now that I think about it... I recall putting up a pic of, um... who's that silly blonde bint? Not Britney, the other one. Anyway, John wrote an absolute cracker that had me laughing out loud. I recall all the people in the internet cafe turning around and looking at me.

And a dwarf and a tax return in the same day? Damn, God is smiling on you mate.

ciao ciao

nobody said...

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha, fantastic! P, I love it when you call bullshit on me! Such healthy disrespect. No really, it's brilliant.

Actually I wish I was you. Or more to the point, I wish I'd been you when I was your age. As is, I was too busy being a drone, swayed by what everyone else thought, and trying to be 'normal'.

You know, if I wasn't old, ugly, malodorous and was still possessed a foolish impetuousness, I'd come over there and make a complete arse of myself pursuing you. You'd reject me of course, and quite right.

But happily none of this is real. You (and everyone else here) is just a disembodied voice floating through the ether with no real substance. And yeah yeah, no need for anyone to pile in and tell me that their particular alternate universe is real. Of course it is. It's just that I'm in one, you're in another, and never the twain shall meet.

Also if this was real would we be having this conversation in public? Of course not. There is no nobody. He's a figment of my imagination. Besides which, in real life I don't proof-read what I say and subsequently I'm not nearly as clever as I am here. So there you go - I'm not real.

Sorry I was public address mode there, P. Back to our private conversation: Just like in Heroes your super power is refining itself and coming clearer. You don't just make the villain forget what he was talking about, you can irresistably steer him into another conversation until he arrives at a new understanding of himself. Go on, tell me that isn't cool? Oh, and we'll ditch your moniker since it's not really apt and, now that I think about it, they never bothered with them in Heroes either. Hmm... you can just be 'P'. That sounds pretty cool.

As for your internal web, we might not be so far away from each other on that one. A great proportion of my life consists of standing on a porch/balcony whatever, having a cigarette and turning things upside down, backwards and forwards and otherwise (and crucially) plugging things into each other. I don't use that phrase all the time for nothing.

Anyway mate, always a treat, but I'm off to shave and shower and go to the supermarket. And what time is it there? You should go crash.

ciao ciao

john said...

Ah, the habitual practice of naming/labeling all that is done. In a way, it is demeaning. Taking away the meaning of simply being.

The attempt to hold on to some notion of self, yet not. The whole computer, internet phenomenon is quite interesting, in how it is very close materially to what has been described spiritually for a long time.

The cloud of unknowing, leaving behind the physical for a world clearly made by 0 and 1s (good and evil, tao?). I recently read a book that illustrated that cell membranes are almost identical to how computer chips function, albeit the latter are silicon based. both are programmable from the outside, either by a programmer or that indefinable nobody.

The medium is the message, and now we are living in a world of instantaneous communication, and yet it still wholly resides with ourselves to determine what is real, or worth time.

Attempting to have substance based conversations is difficult, especially with almost everyone connected to a phone, tweeting away like the aforementioned busy birds. But it also has to do with expectations - expect to have deep/meaningful conversations, and eventually reality relents.

Happy trails indeed.

Dave Q. said...

Hi Nobody,

Nice to see you in church again. (I'll not likely repeat THAT to anyone, any time soon) I truly enjoy your writing/typing/communicating. Call it what you will; I like this Nobody chap. I understand and concur regarding the alternate and separate universes, and I'm not put off by it. It is what it is, eh?

I actually have a dear, long-time (many decades) friend, who I have become very close to, since we began trading dozens of emails on a daily basis; each one having between a line and three paragraphs on a "subject" that keeps changing and/or evolving. Our friendship has shed many pounds of bullshit by this new Internet Encounters version. So, again, I believe I understand and agree with what you inferred about the face-to-face being less desirable. (or was it more prone to bullshit?)

As for Jeff Wells, abstruse is the operative word, certainly. And as far as him being the better writer, I suspect your humility is genuine, although misplaced. You get your points across with a pleasant style that doesn't give me a headache, which I can't say for Jeff and quite a few others whose ideas I like, once I finally get my mind somewhat wrapped around them.

Anywayz, I'm glad to see hear you're still around and thriving.

Dave Q.

john said...

by the way, the post and comments runs similar waters as a poem by ee cummings,
called A Poet's Advice.

One excerpt: To be nobody-but-yourself -- in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else -- means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.

slozo said...

I almost don't know where to start, but having just written that . . . there it is - amazement. Agog, mouth open. Speechless, yet still able to make fingers push buttons, as it were.

I'm being overly dramatic of course, but . . . WELCOME BACK, BUD! A hearty and sincere intra-webbish hug to you good sir, Nobody who is a Somebody.

I always did think your handle was absolutely brilliant.

Glad to hear you are well my friend . . . and I do consider you my friend.

A real friend is someone you can express your opinion to - your real opinion - on any matter of thing. They might disagree with you; they might get pissed off even; but if your opinion is not some excuse for a putdown . . . they will still want to talk to you about it, maybe share a rebuttal of sorts, or even better, you might just have a discussion on it. You might even argue about it, both get angry and shit . . . but it’s not like you WOULDN’T still be friends afterward – it wouldn’t be a question of that, really.

THAT is a friend. Anyone else giving you the response you got from your "c" . . . is not, and never was, and never could be.

I've been lucky in such respects.

With my best bud, we’ve had long and great discussions, where he gives me tones of respect on the greater amount of research that I have done on the various subjects of conspiracy against the common man on our planet. And my other even older friend, who is not really on the same page as much, I’ve had long arguments with . . . but we can still talk about it, sure. Still friends afterward, and we can each call bullshit on each other, no worries.
You gotta cut the wheat from the chaff, my friend. The sooner the better.

I remember when I sent out my nine-eleven letter to all my very close friends and family . . . I had a long email argument with one of my buddies, and even though he still never got the obvious nine-eleven inside job thing . . . he had the guts to come out and talk about it, defend the wars, and we came to a better understanding of one another. He still remains my friend, although not the closest.
Myself, it was all a revelation though, and I found out right away who I could talk about it with, and who I couldn’t. And Nobody, in my humble opinion, the sooner you live as a righteous person who is able to say what he means, and mean what you say to who your friends and close contacts are . . . that is what we should ALL be shooting for, man.

This whole segmenting of worlds, internet and real . . . and the whole deal with basically enabling a double persona of oneself . . . I’m not into it, and I threw that away some time ago. And it’s not that you have to talk about anything with everyone – I don’t even do that with my wife, in some small areas – but that you can have honest and frank discussions on important matters. Let them know where you stand on these important things. If they can't handle . . . can't handle your true opinion on an important social matter . . . they are not your friend.

Anyway, that’s enough of me bragging about how I have set up my life, but I think I do have to do a bit of it. Not for me, but to show others that it can be done, it has been done, and that when it is done, one is filled with empowerment, self-confidence, and a sense of faith and hope in humanity (in the end, after shedding the plodders, followers and fools).

No time like the present, Nobody. Your pappy’s passed on, you are a totally free man, in search of a travelling van, and you can build up from scratch. Doesn’t matter how old you are for that, mate. Doesn’t matter what you look like, dude. What matters is what’s in your head. Talk straight, be good and do right.

slozo said...

Papillon – never read the whole thing, only started reading it back in the day, will pick it up for a read soon. That and Banco, his second “autobiographical” novel.

Have you read War and Peace yet, my friend? That is a book. Especially once you get past all the confusing names and get into the meat of the incredible discussions between characters . . . it is just magnificent.

You got lots of time! Use it.

(I write this as I am at work, answering phones, getting interrupted by people every two minutes, in between typing away here on 100% unrelated-to-work material. Amazing how irritating people can sense when you want everyone to piss off)

Impressive dialogue, lady. I like the way you communicate. Great comments.

I really liked Finland, and when I worked for a very short time in north-eastern europe, my best friends were a group of Finns, and I ended up visiting the country for a week.

My first impression was after de-planing, entering what was to me the oddest thing . . . quiet. It was the quietest damn airport I had ever been in, and it took me a second to get a handle on why I felt a bit weird.

It's a thoughtful, introspective country with many great folk, at least the many that I met.

Lovin' the conversation, keep it up!

P2P said...


the only reason why I still occasionally smoke cigarettes (only natural tobacco with no additives, rolled without a filter) is the same as yours - goes well with pondering the world and watching the night sky.

slozo, you said pretty much all I almost thought about saying in regards to being one's self. nice to hear you've got to visit f-land, too, and true - never thought about the helsinki vantaa airport (I'm guessing that's the one you landed to) from that perspective, but you're correct.

I've said for some time that f-land is a great place to be if one wants to get things done - to study, to work, to settle down. but there's some very antisocial qualities, in the wider meaning of the term, that go together with all of the peace and tranquility seen on the surface. I've thought through all this very extensively, from historical and social perspectives, and have come to the conclusion of not wanting to spend most of my life here. now when I am studying it is a good place to focus and take it easy. the same probably fits when I decide to settle down - if f-land remains as it is thirty or forty years from now.

nobody said...

Thanks everyone for those fascinating thoughts. I'm sorry I didn't come in earlier and reply to people at the time. Now there's too many of you and I'm too exhausted. Currently I have the house to myself. This is the first time I've had my own space for years and years. That's all it takes and I'm writing like a maniac. I don't know how many thousands of words I knocked out today but it was all crap and now I've started again and I'm shattered and can barely think straight. I'm a morning person.

But before I go to bed I'll pop into the following piece and apologise to Slozo for the thing I'm working on now. Ciao.