A Divine Revelation to a Society of Seekers

Posted on May 28, 2023 by Guillermo Calvo Mahé

Divinity enjoyed timeless access to everything, eternally, within the perfect balance of absolute, omni-dimensional, omni-universal naught that is best described as absolute zero. That balance was broken when Divinity expired causing the primal omni-explosion that created the omniverse.

Residue of the expired Divinity comprises every component of the omniverse some of which evolved into Divine avatars in the form of gods and demons, their status, attributes and abilities depending in the degree of belief lent to them by sentient entities.

Every aspect of the omniverse bears a portion of the Divine and thus, only in total concert can they reconstitute Divinity, or more accurately, the Divine Ghost. Note that a ghost, the non-physical residue of a formerly living being, is not the same as a spirit, which coexists in a symbiotic relationship with a living component.

Time is the medium in which the Divine Ghost dwells but it streams linearly in all possible directions and at all possible speeds, seeking to reflect, albeit pallidly, the infinite possibilities once latent and inchoate, that once eternally constituted its corpus.
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Guillermo (“Bill”) Calvo Mahé (a sometime poet) is a writer, political commentator and academic currently residing in the Republic of Colombia (although he has primarily lived in the United States of America of which he is also a citizen). Until 2017 he chaired the political science, government and international relations programs at the Universidad Autónoma de Manizales. He is currently the publisher of the Inannite Review, available at Substack.com. He has academic degrees in political science (the Citadel), law (St. John’s University), international legal studies (New York University) and translation and linguistic studies (the University of Florida’s Center for Latin American Studies). However, he is also fascinated by mythology, religion, physics, astronomy and mathematics, especially with matters related to quanta and cosmogony. He can be contacted at guillermo.calvo.mahe@gmail.com and much of his writing is available through his blog at https://guillermocalvo.com/.

Karma and Me

Posted on May 20, 2023 by Guillermo Calvo Mahé

Progeny, it turns out, was not all I hoped it would be, what I expected it’d be, all that I worked so hard to make it. Futility? Perhaps. But then again, perhaps not. Apparently, despite their reflections, opinions and observations concerning me, my three sons are happy with who they are, and, in an important sense, they’ve highlighted the many errors I made. Not as a father, although they’ve plenty of complaints, but as a son to an amazing mother I too often took too much for granted. Especially when I was younger.

And then, I wonder.

I wonder how my mother felt about her own progeny. Thinking about it objectively, were I her, I would have considered us an ungrateful bunch, too often, in my sister’s case, bitterly critical, and in my brother’s, unable to wean successfully, and in mine, to whom she gave more than to any of my siblings, perhaps too cocky, to sure I was right and she was wrong. Too distant. Too much like my own sons.

Karma’s a bitch, but as someone who hates to be indebted, it’s better this way.

Who knows, perhaps I’ve accumulated a positive balance. But I so wish I would have been a much better son, a more understanding son, a more accepting son, one who more vocally expressed his love, admiration and gratitude. Now, given the ways of destiny and time and entropy, it’s too late. Unless somehow my mother, from far beyond the veil, can sense what I now feel and what I now understand and can enjoy it, revel in it, and somehow grasp and hold it.

What I wouldn’t give to be able to correct all my past mistakes, to have been more understanding, less egocentric, more empathic.

More like her.
_______

© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2023; all rights reserved. Please feel free to share with appropriate attribution. Guillermo (“Bill”) Calvo Mahé (a sometime poet) is a writer, political commentator and academic currently residing in the Republic of Colombia (although he has primarily lived in the United States of America of which he is also a citizen). Until 2017 he chaired the political science, government and international relations programs at the Universidad Autónoma de Manizales. He is currently the publisher of the Inannite Review, available at Substack.com. He has academic degrees in political science (the Citadel), law (St. John’s University), international legal studies (New York University) and translation and linguistic studies (the University of Florida’s Center for Latin American Studies). However, he is also fascinated by mythology, religion, physics, astronomy and mathematics, especially with matters related to quanta and cosmogony. He can be contacted at guillermo.calvo.mahe@gmail.com and much of his writing is available through his blog at https://guillermocalvo.com/.

Of Cerulean and Cyan and Vermilion Too

Posted on May 14, 2023 by Guillermo Calvo Mahé

A young man wonders about colors, specifically two, although perhaps three. He’s been named after one of them, although little of anything concerning the color seems to apply to him. He wonders what his parents had been thinking when they chose that name for him, and he reflects that he’s never actually been christened, so perhaps the name has not yet been as impactful as his parents had hoped.

He might have elected to study art, but he studied language instead, as had his mother. His father, a florist, wondered why. Sometimes he did too. His mother was pleased though, and his two sisters didn’t seem to have ever considered why he studied what he did, or why his name often seemed so blue. At first blush theirs seemed a bit more traditional, but that wasn’t quite true. Hmmm.

Cerulean leans more towards blue than does the more balanced cyan. And cerulean, although a light variant of blue, is darker than cyan. Of course, that means that cyan leans more towards green than does cerulean, which just shares green’s echoes and smiles, and perhaps its similes, and that cyan is darker, but not much.

The young man thinks they’re friends, and that perhaps, at one time or another, they’ve been lovers, or perhaps just kissing cousins. In imperial Byzantium they might have had an awkward relationship, with cerulean angry at cyan’s flirtation with green, but he wonders how they got along in subsequent Muslim caliphates, perhaps in Istanbul?

He wonders how cyan and cerulean feel about azure. Or how cerulean feels about vermilion, either cyan’s complement or antithesis, depending on perspectives. Or how vermilion feels about cyan, a complex relationship. And whether their feelings are reciprocal or complimentary or constant or true, or just passing fancies.

He wonders if his parents had been high when they’d selected his name. It could have been true, they were free spirits of sorts, floating along life’s byways and sometimes stumbling along a highway or two. It didn’t matter though. He loved his name, and he wondered whether he’d ever find its mate, and what she would be like, and whether she’d love her name too.

Cerulean and cyan, and vermilion as well. Perhaps, in addition to colors, they were places and times in which to lose oneself, or perhaps to find oneself, were one lost. Like somehow lost quantum paired electrons, or just sundered hearts, or misplaced halves of the same fruit, or rainbows that had lost their colors and now dressed only in shades of grey.

Bombastic Pomposity and Egocentrism: …. What a World!!

Posted on May 13, 2023 by Guillermo Calvo Mahé

It’s a Saturday morning in May, 2023. The first seven days did not bring the political crisis envisioned in Charles W. Bailey II and Fletcher Knebel’s 1962 story, Seven Days in May. Those were a wasted seven days anyway, lesser evil triumphed there, or perhaps it was greater evil. It’s a matter of perspective. But it seems like a good morning to break rules, like the prohibition against mixing metaphors, so I’m playing with imagery involving mirrors, perhaps magic mirrors, perhaps not. But mirrors that give us slightly distorted but not wholly inaccurate glimpses of ourselves, of our realities, but also of our perceptions, whether truthful or not. Interesting topic for speculation: are truth and accuracy synonyms? My instincts tell me that’s not the case, although I don’t know why.

Once more I imagine what it must have been like for Troy’s princess Cassandra, after she was afflicted by Apollo’s curse, and she became uselessly clairvoyant. I imagine what she might have been shouting to disinterested winds, were she among us today. Perhaps something like the following with respect to the political climate in which our world finds itself, one where egocentric Paris has become the norm. Perhaps the following is what she might write, seeking to warn us, had she ever learned to write:

Donald Trump’s bombastic pomposity and egocentrism is not unique to today’s major political characters, it is at least equaled by the Clintons and the Bidens and the Obamas, but theirs is more deceptive, more subtle. Obfuscated by the corporate media and thus, much more dangerous. Their respective followers (all furious) are comprised, on the one hand, of the mid to lower, less educated but much more hardworking classes that idolize the brash Mr. Trump, and in doing so, vent their frustration at their denigration while being looted, and on the other by the purportedly “woke” who follow the latter three, not realizing that they are, more than anything else, tools of the tiny oppressor class. “Woke” in the sense that zombies can be said to be awake, blindly and blithely following orders they don’t comprehend, but doing so relentlessly. Mr. Trump’s unpleasantness does not mean that his grasp of reality is less than that of the Clintons and the Bidens, the Obamas and their ilk. To the latter, reality is irrelevant, the only thing that matters is the narrative they weave and seek to impose, believing. Justifiably. that if truth us totally hidden, then its impact on the present and the future can be blunted, can be manipulated, at least for a while, reveling in Lincoln’s “you can fool most of the people some of the time”, and like Louis XV, rejoicing in the belief that such time is now, that it’s their time and to Hell with the future they’ve so thoroughly mortgaged. Their adherents, for the most part, do not plan on having the children who will have to bear that burden. Mr. Trump’s glimpses into reality, slight and distorted as they might be, recognize that the anti-Kantish state of perpetual war so profitable to the “woke’s” masters is disastrous for business, which is seemingly Mr. Trump’s guiding principle, and that a prosperous future requires mutually profitable coexistence with the “enemies-on-demand” that keep the military industrial complex humming, hence peace with China and Russia and North Korea is essential, and NATO is but an anachronistic white elephant looking to justify its existence, and that for the United States, the tax dollars wasted on defense spending and military bases and adventures abroad ought to be redirected to repair and modernization of internal infrastructure, on bridges and roads and airports and railroads, and public utilities. But his view is myopic and occluded when it comes to the Middle East, where whatever Israel does is fine with him, and whatever it wants it deserves and should get, so Iran has to go, at the very least. After all, what is one more genocide (of others) in Judaea’s long history? And, of course, Mr. Trump’s perspective is utterly convoluted when it comes to international economics which he treats like New York City real estate machinations, i.e., where the art of the bluff is key to “the art of the deal”. Perhaps, the abuses of both groups of bipolar bombastically pompous and egocentric leaders, as they inadvertently slip into the light as a result of their policy of mutual calumny, will somehow filter into the collective consciousness and, like an annoying morning alarm clock, jolt the electorate awake, although the Clintons and the Bidens and the Obamas hope that it is way too late for that to make any differences, and it at least smells as though they might be right, at least in the verisimilitude of democracy in which we live. Electoral manipulation through misinformation and information withheld, if not outright electoral fraud, has seemingly become the norm, covered in a cloak of impunity by a judicial system which equates the refusal to investigate allegations as definitive proof that they’re not only false, but deliberate lies. Not just errors in judgment, but deliberate sedition. And where the totally politicized judiciary has joined the totally politicized corporate media to throttle any attempts to change the profitably pro-perpetual-bellum quagmire in which ordinary citizens are trapped. After all, neither rules nor consequences apply to the extraordinary few, no talent needed, the awards and rewards are theirs to bestow upon themselves, and, of course, upon the groveling useful.

Still; … even Cassandra seemingly had hope. The one positive thing that remained when Pandora’s amphora was unsealed (it was not really a box) and emptied. And even if only an illusion, or perhaps a delusion, hope apparently springs eternally-enough to keep things interesting. And thus, … Mr. Trump. “What a world”, as the purportedly Evil Witch of the West declaimed as she melted after exposure to the cleansing effects of water, “what a world” where apparently, the bombastically pompous and egocentric Mr. Trump represents the almost unattainable but much sought, lesser evil.

As an irrelevant but funny aside (at least we still sometimes have humor, as long as it’s not politically incorrect), someone innocently pointed out to me the uncanny resemblance on a number of levels between the current president of the United States and a character on the long running “Simpsons”, Montgomery Burns. That person may well soon find himself or herself (I need to protect my sources) in big trouble, although purportedly not having anything to do with such observation. That’s apparently the current price for exercising the right to freedom of expression.

“What a world” seems to fit the bill.
_______

The Eighth Day of May

Posted on May 8, 2023 by Guillermo Calvo Mahé

Today, May 8, 2023, is an important day to me because two very important people were born on that day, long ago. Vicki Meryl Forest (now Baker) and Michael Harris Jordan. Two very different people important for very different reasons.

Vicki is 70 today. She and her delightful family were wonderful to me during very difficult times. Unfortunately, in the end, I couldn’t bring myself to culminate the wonderful relationship we shared because of the trauma of the one that preceded it. Vicki deserved everything I could have given, she was an amazing woman, a delight in every sense. I know that whoever she’s with today is a happy man, and I’m certain she made a wonderful mother. I often recall her father Irvin and mother Lucie, her sister Elise and nieces Jennifer and Melissa, and her brother-in-law Saul Sklar, with whom I still correspond from time to time. I recall them all with a great deal of love. Vicki was sunshine crystalized, I’m pretty sure she still is.

Coincidently, Michael would also have been 70 today. He was a fascinating person, the son of my friend and sometimes client, David E. Jordan, a financier of sorts, as was his son. He was short and stocky and funny and creative and bright, a great chef and a very decent man. He experimented with all kinds of things during his life, which unfortunately, ended much too soon. Not that everything in our relationship was rosy and bright from a professional aspect, but that was more due to his dad’s misadventures and to one of his brother’s machinations. But in sum, it was a privilege and a joy to have been a part of Michael’s life.

It’s a pretty day high in the central range of the Colombian Andes where I now live, close by to a volcano seemingly stirring by the side of a tall former glacier, far from the Islands in New York where I met them both, and the Florida peninsula where I last interacted with them. But they’re comfortably ensconced in my memories and in my heart.

And they always make the eighth day of May very special.
_______

On the Coronation of Charles Philip Arthur George Mountbatten-Windsor (formerly Hanover)

Posted on May 6, 2023 by Guillermo Calvo Mahé

Charles and I are of an age, albeit with drastically different life experiences.

He has a warm spot in my heart, despite my leftist, democratic socialist political tendencies. He visited my alma mater in Charleston, the Citadel, the Military College of South Carolina, on two occasions a half century apart. Once as a young prince in 1970, and then again, as the inchoate king of the Britons, in 2020. On the latter occasion, my beloved alma mater granted him a degree honoris causa. I’ve followed his difficult life (despite all the wealth, privileges and trappings) closely, and have come to believe that in many ways, it is an allegorical reflection of our times.

He has been criticized, often, too often unfairly, for whatever he does and doesn’t do, in the “heads I win, tails you lose” manner now prevalent in the corporate media and among the faux leftists who for some reason or another, have decided that only they are conscious, and have consciences, that they are the repositories of virtue and morality despite their consistent failure to attain any of their supposed goals, and instead, have succeeded only in generating intolerance, hatred and polarization, while permitting the worst among us to continue to rule unabated.

That’s sort of weird, given that Charles’ background is exactly what the worst among us aspire to possess. Still, while Charles has the trappings, they have the power.

I am confessedly among the minority who find that his late, former-wife, Diana, was among the most egocentrically frivolous and devious among us, which of course, made her a media darling. That she used Charles to ascend the social ladder she so craved, and that once there, she sought to ensconce herself, at his expense, and even at the expense of her purportedly beloved children (who she primarily raised through self-serving photo ops). But she did it with such grace and style that the commons loved her, regardless of her obvious “indiscretions. She was an inverse Cinderella, … or was that Camila. And what does the adjective “inverse” do to the concept I seek to portray anyway?

Charles was the victim of duty every second of every minute of every hour of every day of his life. The “Duty” which prevented him, for a long time, from being the husband of perhaps the only woman he ever loved, and instead, being placed in a loveless and counterproductive marriage, which, like a plague, still refuses to set him free, even after the death of his “fairy tale” wife, “fairy tale”, but not in a good way. He was subservient to his mother, as he was duty bound to be, and it seemed as though he would never attain his own, independent destiny, and even as he was crowned “King”, perhaps he never will. He’ll be an afterthought, a cipher, an interregnum, and one tainted at that. At least among the “woke”.

To me he has been, is, and I think will continue to be a symbol of courage and duties honored under difficult circumstances, all too often in no win situations that refuse to grant him the status of “human” we all proudly claim as our own. But that’s the nature of monarchy, and of real monarchs, and of real men, at least as men were once defined. Not as selfish, self-centered misogynists, but as chivalrous defenders and providers for their families, their communities and their nations. Not perfect by any means, but compared to his brother Andy and his youngest son harry; compared to his late, former wife, Charles is a complex human being deserving of admiration, not because of but notwithstanding his royal standing.

I like the newly crowned King, I’ll confess it, but as a person, not as the crystallization of the purported aristocrats among whom he was born and who from now on, will surround and seek to suffocate him more than ever.

If I were a believer, which I may or may not be, I’ve never been sure (other than that I am not a believer in the religion “created” by the egregious Saul of Tarsus), I would end this, and perhaps I will, whispering “God Save the King”!
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On the Psycho-social Aspects of Sports

Posted on April 25, 2023 by Guillermo Calvo Mahé

The concept of “sport” involves two principal roles, one is participatory: a physical activity to develop and improve physical skills, sometimes in a competitive fashion, often with health benefits related to attaining physical optimization. But it also has a non-participatory entertainment aspect, one geared to spectators in general but more frequently to spectators who develop an affinity for a particular person or corporate entity, “corporate” in the sense of entity-continuity notwithstanding changes in its composition. For example, despite the fact that Babe Ruth died long ago, the Yankees are still the Yankees. Well, … almost.

The latter variant has interesting psychosocial dynamics with cultural implications that reflect social trends in the interrelationships between the spectators; between the spectators and the participants; between the spectators, the participants and those in charge of training and managing the participants; and, finally, between all of the foregoing and ownership.

Spectators tend to assume two very different roles: passive spectators who cheer on “their” team in a non-critical manner, no matter its performance; and, active, more-involved and more critical spectators, usually much more knowledgeable and frequently having formerly, at one level or another, been active participants. The two groups have become increasingly polarized as our society has become less cohesive, with the cheer-leading spectators becoming bitterly critical of what they deem to be fair-weather fans, and the more active, critical fans, those who demand quality performance from the teams or players they support, deeming the cheer-leader types idiotic know-nothings. Sports managers and owners at every level prefer the cheer-leading fan variant, especially those willing to spend on viewing sporting events in person or by subscription, but, in addition, purchasing related branded merchandise. Some teams apparently go so far as to pay individuals and business involved in the new phenomenon of social media, to use fictional cheer-leader fans (trolls) to purportedly criticize the critical fans as traitors, something, to some extent, also done in the past through less honest sports journalists.

The issue of sports polarization is especially problematic with sports involving children where the “competitive” factor is bitterly debated among parents, some of whom (the “woke”) believe that sports should be fun for all, without winners, or even scores; and, fanatical parents who intervene, at times physically, frequently embarrassing their own children, living out their own frustrated sports fantasies, in quest for victory at any price. Balance involving competition and development of life and social skills, those once revered concepts of good sportsmanship, seem all too frequently unattainable today. That, unfortunately, merely reflects trends throughout our diverse social institutions, trends all too often manipulated as a means of maintaining control through polarization and involving issues such as abortion, gun control, political correctness, censorship, etc.

Sports have become a business with massive profits to both teams and players at its highest levels, as well as to broadcast media; ludicrous profits and ludicrous salaries when judged on the basis of comparative social contributions and on the basis of the growing disparity between the wealthiest among us and the rest, especially those who receive the lowest compensation for the most difficult and tedious jobs. The foregoing is true of professional sports, but unfortunately, has also afflicted amateur sports in academic institutions where college football coaches sometimes earn up to ten times what the college president or any academic professor or researcher is paid.

Sports have also become a useful tool for political control, deflecting dissatisfaction with poor political and economic performance, broken promises and inequity, into strong emotional responses to sporting events and activities, redirecting justifiable social anger towards competing sports spectators, whether those who support other teams or those who criticize the performance of teams and players they themselves support. It is how we “blow off steam”; psychic energy needed to power necessary societal change, leaving us either satiated, exhausted or both, and bitter towards umpires, referees, coaches, players and other fans, instead of against those we most need to replace: our political, media and economic “leaders”.

Sports have evolved from their earliest roles, when they involved non-partisan appreciation of excellence, dexterity and physical abilities (such as in the ancient Olympics), into a social phenomenon much more like the violent partisan events that existed during the Roman imperial period, events centered on chariot racing, where almost the entirety of the population was divided among violent supporters of Greens and Blues, such division flowing into political groupings as well.

International sports can be a unifying force domestically while a divisive force internationally. For example soccer’s world cup and the modern variant of the Olympic games, international spectacles where international political rivalries now regularly intervene to exclude more capable athletes and teams from competing based on factors totally unrelated to sports, factors such as economic and political rivalries among groups of allied nations.

Notwithstanding the foregoing I am an avid sports enthusiast, perhaps an addict of sorts. I love sports as an active participant (when possible), but as a spectator as well (admittedly of the more critical variant). And that’s the case notwithstanding all of the deficiencies, abuses and dangers associated with modern sports that I acknowledge exist. That’s the case with most of us, although the majority have no idea concerning many of the issues raised in this introspective article.

In short, it seems that as humans, there is nothing we cannot pervert into a polarizing factor, into something to divide us and set us off against each other, into something that can be used to manipulate and control us. Even something as magnificent as the sports we purport to love.
_______

Black Listed Gifts

Posted on April 18, 2023 by Guillermo Calvo Mahé

I was watching the “Black List” last night, “binging” on the latest season available on Netflix, an obvious US propaganda piece as is most of what comes out of Hollywood and its clones (the reality as far back as Woodrow Wilson’s epoch). But amazingly, in that episode something resonated in a humanistically positive manner.

Imagine that.

For some unfathomable reason, I enjoy the program. Perhaps it’s the acting, especially by James Spader. And it provides insights into the manner in which US propaganda has culturally conquered much of the world with brazen distortions. But I rarely find the really useful human element that permits us to better understand ourselves, and improve who we are. The element essential in great works of art.

I did last night, and it involved a gift, the gift being a very used old portable radio.

Economically, today, I am not well off. But like most among my current peers, I am living well enough, largely because I became an expatriate of sorts, living in a beautiful albeit affordable place, a beautiful city high in the central range of the Colombian Andes. Beautiful mountains, snowcapped peaks, thermal springs, perpetual spring, but no oceans or beaches. A place where social security is a bit more than enough to get by. But where friends and family are a long way off.

I’ve been much better off, wealthy even, in a past where limousines were not an occasional luxury but a normal tool, where the making of an expensive gift was “no big deal”. But I’ve also been much less well off than I am now, and it’s that time in my life that resonated with the “Black List” episode I viewed last night. And it dealt with the character I find least interesting, least credible, most boring: Diego Klattenhoff as agent Donald Ressler.

The resonance involved the realization that the most important gifts I ever made where those that involved something I already owned, something I had to sacrifice under the circumstances of the moment because I lacked the wherewithal to merely “buy something appropriate”. Usually it was a book, but sometimes a keepsake I’d picked up somewhere or other. It involved a sacrifice of something for which I really cared, something I’d miss, but which to me, at the time, seemed important to pass on. I’ve also received gifts like that and last night I realized that I’d not appreciated their worth at the time. I do now.

In this materialistic and polarized world, one where empathy is hard to generate and harder to find, where a touch of humanity seems a rare thing but is actually omnipresent, hidden in the quotidian, especially in the lives of the least well-off. Hidden in plain sight amidst the most vulnerable among us. Hidden among that silent majority where almost everything involves a sacrifice, but where such sacrifices are joyfully made and never regretted, but also, perhaps, as in my case, where such sacrifices are not quite fully appreciated by the recipients. At least not until it’s much too late to express our gratitude.

It made me think, especially of my mother. Eventually a single mom who made the best of what I’ve become and accomplished possible without ever stressing the many sacrifices she and the rest of my family had to make, things I just took for granted until she was gone.

Her case and mine, unfortunately, are not unusual. Especially today when the generational shift is so bitter, and where too many of the young consider themselves ethically and morally superior, while concurrently entitled, and view their parents and their parent’s generation as out of touch bigots. A generation that has no idea what the adage “it’s better to give than to receive” means, or worse, that it even exists. Where giving is something that’s done with the taxes other people pay, and mainly given to industries dedicated to legalized murder on a massive scale, in the name of liberty and peace and equality.

Amazingly, the episode made me think, rather than just react and enjoy the action and the acting.

Talk about finding pearls in a dung heap!
_______

On the Possibility of Divine Contrition

Posted on April 6, 2023 by Guillermo Calvo Mahé

What if some of what objective alien academics might, on reflection, consider Terran religious myths, turned out to be true. Consider the two most visible this week: the divine massacre of Egypt’s first born male children at the request of at least one Hebrew leader; and then, a bit over a millennia later, the execution of the purported son of the Hebrew god, again, at the demand of at least some Hebrew leaders.

What if the execution of the Nazarene, Yeshua ben Miriam, or ben Deux, or ben Yosef, depending on his paternity, involved an act of contrition by the Hebrew divinity for the execution, at his command, of so many innocents, and that does not relate solely to the Egyptian firstborn, but to almost all of the human race in the purported Great Flood, and to numerous Canaanites whose land, property and women were apparently gifts from the Hebrew God to the followers of a man from Ur Kaśdim who married his own sister and did not hesitate to generously share her with others (if it was to his benefit), and perhaps, even to the imposition of mortality not only on Eve, purportedly for her sins, and Adam, but on all humanity.

What if, having had over a millennia to reflect, the Hebrew divinity discovered a conscience and decided that his own sins (he was obviously male) required a supreme sacrifice, that of a version of himself?

That certainly makes more ethical and moral sense than a sacrifice by mankind of a divinity’s son, to expunge the sin by one ancestress of having taken a bite from an apple (or a fruit of some kind, anyway).

Something to consider during the celebration of this week which so reeks of irony.

_______

Something to Mess with as Easter Week once again Makes an Appearance

Posted on April 4, 2023 by Guillermo Calvo Mahé

Sooo, …. Most of our quotidian numerical systems today are premised on Arabic numerals with10 as the base, hence we start at 0, go through 9 and then start over with zero preceded by one, etc.

The base 60 system used by the Babylonians, the one we use to tell time, and for angles and circles, etc., was much more sophisticated because, while ten is divisible by 1, 2, 5 and 10 (and perhaps 0), 60 is divisible by each of those, plus, 3, 4, 6 and all of their multiples.

Most computer language is premised on an “on” and “off” binary concept using symbols of “0”s and “1”s.

Is monotheistic religion, religion based on platonic models, premised on base “infinity”, with only one, all-encompassing number, making it equivalent to monist panentheism?

Something to mess with, mentally, as Easter week once again makes an appearance.
_______

	Nos Han Dado La Tier… on “Nos han dado la tierra”
	dolphinswithmohawks on Critical Context in Perilous…
	Marcia Christoff on Do as I Say, Not as I Do
	Guillermo Calvo Mahé on Tenebrously Yours
	Natalia de Calvo on Tenebrously Yours

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