h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Malagueña

La muerte
entra y sale
de la taberna.

Pasan caballos negros
y gente siniestra
por los hondos caminos
de la guitarra.

Y hay un olor a sal
y a sangre de hembra,
en los nardos febriles
de la marina.

La muerte
entra y sale,
y sale y entra
la muerte
de la taberna.

Federico García Lorca



Malagueña

Death
comes in and goes out
from the inn.

Black horses and
sinister people
pass through the deep
paths of the guitar.

You can smell salt-scent
and females' blood
in the feverish tuberoses
of the sea-shore.

Death
comes in and goes out
and goes out and comes
in, death
from the inn.


Apologies for any infelicities in the translation.

Shostakovich set this poem in his 14th Symphony.

Death is always with us, he comes in, he goes out, he doesn't just happen at the end of our lives, but he is always with us, coming in, going out, in and out of the inn.


There is the love of the heart, and there is love of the soul,

and there is the love of the mind.

This is the most interesting of the four loves with which we are commanded to love the Lord our God, the fourth being the love of the body, or physical love. What is mind's-love? What is the love of the mind? What is it to love someone, or something with your mind?

I think Stephen Hawking loves with his mind. I think Paul Erdos loved with his mind.

I know someone who requires that I use all my mental powers, to know her. I think that I love this person with my mind.

When I was translating that poem, I experienced the love of the mind. It is like an altered state, a state you might have when you experience great interest in something, so that it consumes you, and it becomes you, and you become it. When you see and your seeing becomes inward, then you are loving with your mind.

When I was reading some comments in YouTube, there was a comment in Spanish, and the writer had used a compound subjunctive tense, in a conditional clause. When I was at school doing Spanish I loved the verbs, and I loved them with my mind; and I especially loved the subjunctive, and especially the imperfect subjunctive; and the compound tenses with the imperfect subjunctive were even better. The writer of this comment had used a form hubiéremos tenido, "we should have had", which I see from the Internet is the future perfect subjunctive, although I don't think you can have a future subjunctive tense; perhaps someone versed in Spanish can help here. And when I encountered this verb-form I experienced a tremendous outflowering of the love of the mind. You can't be in soul-love with a verb-form. You can't be in heart-love with a verb-form, for goodness' sake. But you can love a verb-form with your mind; and I had that yesterday, when I was reading the comment on YouTube.

littlecandle was telling us about her mind's-love when she was at school. She tells us she used to lie on her bed at night and do complicated sums in her head, or think of verbs, as I used to do.

So the love of the mind isn't something strange, but common to us all. I think it's a fascinating dimension of the human experience. But the best is to love the Lord your God with all your mind. That is something very special; because God is love, and when you love God, it is God in you loving God (this is a function of the Trinitarian nature of God). And the love of God is life. So when you love God with all your mind, your mind literally comes to life with the life of the love of God. This is a wonderful thing. Because it has knock-on effects for your whole mental world, you see. When your mind lights up with the life of the love of God, your mind and your heart become intimately close to each other, to the point of identification. Identification in the resurrecting life of the love of God. This changes your whole mind and the way you think; it aligns your mind with your heart. Perhaps this is why God tells us to love him with our minds; it is through love that we become the sort of thinkers that he desires. Not by mental effort do we change the way we think, in God, but by love. So you see everyone can love, and everyone can love with their mind; and in this way God makes it possible for everyone to undergo the complex mental transformations required to think according to the Kingdom of Heaven. Not just those with clever minds, but everyone with any kind of mind, can learn to think like God would have us think. Love is the great leveller.

Thinking is one of life's great pleasures. Proper thinking. I spent part of last night thinking about thinking, which was fun and a half. Mum always used to say I would be a man who thought about thinking, when I was little. Anyway it's not healthy to do it too much, because it breaks your mind if you overdo it. But I have a job to do later on; I have to write up the above into a tract, a teaching tract for Christians on the Greatest Commandment regarding loving him with all your mind.

My mind is so abstract, how the hill would I cope with trying to raise a child? I know better than those Islington parents trying to reason with their 5 year olds. You speak to a child as a child, not as an adult. You speak with your imagination, not with your mind. Yeah. See I know theoretically about stuff, but practically? What would I do with a screaming 5 year old kid? I would probably want to hug him and his pain would make me cry, which would only confuse him. I don't know. I really don't think it would be wise for me to have any like you know, kids.

I used to know all the Spanish verb forms, like 28 years ago. But I have forgotten them all. I need to get clarity on what that verb form is.

I got the answer.

http://www.paranormal.org.uk/mustardland/viewtopic.php?p=1002273#1002273

Future perfect subjunctive, an insane tense no-one ever uses except this lone nutter on YouTube who is being florid with his tenses to give rhetorical colour to his emotional point about the human waste of war.

Imagine you're in a Formula 1 racing car, stuck in a traffic jam on the N2, going along at about 0.5 km/h, and you need a piss, but Cape Town is still 15km away. You'd be crawling out of your mind with boredom as well, wouldn't you.

I watched a video on Richard Feynman. What a staggeringly beautiful man. One of the Father's specials. Loved Hans Bethe (?) explaining "And that's why he's a genius" with a big grin all over his face.

Well from the sublime... I still haven't written up my tract on the love of the mind. It's probably the best thing I've ever done. It's the best idea I've ever had.

I used to think The Office was the funniest thing I'd ever seen. Then I thought Extras was the funniest thing I'd ever seen. Now I think The Thick Of It is the funniest thing I've ever seen. There was an interview with Paxman with this chap playing a politician and it was perfect. Tucker is magnificent. There's one clip in particular which I think, well I call it the single funniest moment in comedy that I know. There are 2 moments. His facial expression when he offers to tell the bloke's wife about his infidelity, you get a few milliseconds of it and it's perfect. Then the last word, "f*ckity bye", which is the single funniest line in any comedy I've ever seen. Capaldi, what can one say except thank you.

The one man I actually know who makes me laugh is Mr Collard, he has a wonderful sense of humour which seems to be tailored to make me laugh. He just comes out with excruciatingly funny stuff. This morning it was a comment about - well it doesn't repeat well, because you had to be there, because it was enmeshed in the moment. He has this wonderful sense of fun. He must be a wonderful dad.

But when I was watching about Feynman it struck me with increased force that it would be a really bad idea for me to have kids. I don't know very much. I believe it's about knowing where to find answers, rather than knowing the answers. Rigby knew a lot of stuff. He was always coming out with fascinating information about nature and the human body. His words quite often come back to me. I was so, so blessed to have him as my mentor and friend. Only today I was wishing he was still alive so I could show him my writing on the love of the mind. I'm sure he would have appreciated it.

It's a shame about L. But she's just too young. And naive and spoilt. Perhaps not a very nice person after all. I'll never know.

I just didn't think. I realised that C was falling for me and then I had to tell her about the Cavendish encounter and its sequelae. Poor girl was hurt. I just don't think.

I did however do something good today. I told Collard that Caroline was classy like the BBC and it got back to her. I really hope that made her day.

I realised today that the highest duty and calling for a man is to be a father, because God is Father. But because of my own upbringing I think it would be very unwise for me to have any actual kids. There are other ways of fathering. I realised many things today. I was pissed off with Collard for his theological existentialism comment. His "just a thought" was a bit flat this morning. There's nothing new under the sun. His comment was predicated on a wholly inadequate understanding of the ways of God. I was quite surprised. So anyway I sent him one of my favourite lines of poetry, which Rigby gave to me, from On His Blindness. The last line, in case you're interested. That is -- that is the verse. Along with Larkin.

For those who need things spelling out I am referring to two poems, one by John Milton called On His Blindness ending with the line "they also serve who only stand and wait", and one by Philip Larkin called This Be The Verse, which ends with the line "and don't have any kids yourself". I cannot see how any child who came under my fatherhood couldn't be completely fecked up; I feel it an imperative, and moral duty, not to have children. To prevent much misery and sadness. I would never, ever want to put anyone through what I've been through.

One can forgive a believer for being thick, but one cannot so easily pass over someone's unwillingness to trust God. H has on several occasions displayed an astonishing inability to exercise faith where she cannot see. It seems to me that if you took away her sight there would be no Jesus in H. That's tragic. That's not faith at all. I don't know what that is. I hope I'm wrong. It's stunning how people manage to be successful public Christians in ministry and yet totally miss the point of the person and work of Christ. Even when it's graphically demonstrated in front of their eyes. You see they don't believe what they can't see. I suppose you could say the same about me because I don't have the faith to find a wife and get married. But that isn't an essential. Faith in Christ, is. Still I did that meet that old lady and she restores my faith in the viability of the plan of salvation. I don't remember anything about her, what she looked like, what her name was. I just can't remember because I was too out of it on fear and panic, traumatised by the people around me. You might criticise my faith for that, too, that I don't have the faith to be healed from my wounds. But I say, then neither did Jeremiah. Sometimes the Son doesn't heal you. Or he wants healing to manifest in a different way, from a simple and mechanistic doing away with the causes of suffering. He might want to teach you how to suffer. And he can only do that while you are still enduring the pains of woundings. I thought I knew how to suffer but I clearly don't otherwise why would I still be suffering. "If you knew how to suffer you would also know how not to suffer." I am in dreadful pain. Guy said to me, Your life has been one of intellectual and emotional pain. It is nice to be seen like that. It is a comfort to know that that old lady probably knows me. Obviously the Trinity know me. The Lord confirmed what I wrote to H, this morning. So I can only hope she will believe what I said. It's a lot to ask but she must grow up and progress in the faith, and get past Joyce Bloody Meyer, who may be responsible for damage in the Body. Can't she just . Mind you if it's a question of damage I think we all have our own little train smashes that we've caused by leaving our toys on the railway line. If there's one thing I loathe, it's female complacency.

I call it Bring us drinks. That's a quotation from Amos 4:1, where it is revealed that the Lord doesn't like it either. They oppress the poor and crush the needy. Havi'ah venishteh, in the Hebrew. Such women merit a slap on the face from their father in the presence of the community. I think that's the Bible prescription for women who behave shamefully. I seem to remember the Lord saying something to Miriam along those lines. I don't care how pretty your eyes are, sweetheart, it's your actions that matter. And you have behaved like an utter bitch.

Again, I hope I'm wrong. There may be dimensions to events which I don't know about. And in any case I have to forgive. Otherwise I'm complicit in the crime. Otherwise I'm as bad as she is. I'm so glad I don't have to go through all this alone, with Emmanuel for understanding company. But he might be withholding intel from me to see how I act, you see. His first requirement is that I forgive. That's hard. But necessary. It seems to me that the sole purpose of the Father's providing Eve was to give Adam someone to forgive for wronging him. Then I remember that old lady. And just as L abuses her beauty, so maybe I am guilty of abuse too. In my defence I say that I am merely seeking the comfort that I need in the absence of any loving support. You've got my support, says God. Until you can appreciate that what makes you think you will appreciate anyone else? Wow that's a hard word. Again in my defence I say, my pain stops me from fully appropriating your support, which is mainly through your people. But Jesus didn't have that either, says the Father. He had to go through it all alone too. And you did sign up for the Jesus Experience. True. I suppose my basic fault is that which I see in others: a failure of faith, an inability or unwillingness to believe.

Well that was all quite good. It's been quite a day today. Oh I wrote an email to Chris where I expanded on the mind tract, it'll have to go into the tract:

Actually what I have written in the last paragraph about loving with the mind, is trying to describe and also guide the experience of the act of worship. It is when we perceive God with our minds, somehow. Letting God into our minds like letting sunshine into a room. Not using our cognitive faculty to figure anything out, but relaxing the thinking muscle and letting God's light shine and fill the chambers and pigeon holes and RAM of our minds, you see, somehow. And when we do that, he flashes the BIOS of our minds. He rewrites our minds' operating system.

Vital to clarify that I am not talking about any exercising of the cognitive faculty. Vital to make clear to any intelligent idiots that I'm saying how clever you are is immaterial to the exercise of the love of the mind. It's solely how well you allow the Lord to open your mind to himself. All we do, is draw the curtains back. He does the rest.

Like Holman Hunt: Jesus stands at the door and our job is merely to open it. Our job is merely to welcome Jesus in. He does all the rest.

The mind is the mirror of the heart. I think anyway. And loving with the mind is simply allowing the mind to fully reflect a heart filled with God's love. it's more difficult than I thought, this idea. Loving God with all your mind, OK, has several meanings. It can mean a number of different things. i am focussing on its application to the experience of worship. Not to the working of our minds, but to their passive acceptance and welcome and reception of the nature of God as revealed in his light. It's allowing his understanding into ours and as we do that our understanding gets rewritten according to the contours of his. This is either very simple or fiendishly complicated. I can't see which. I may need to just sit on it for a while and wait for further revelation.

The mirror of my mind was shattered into a thousand shards, which cut and slice and gouge the matter of my brain, blood everywhere.

Mr C told a joke about a bat this morning and made up a funny voice for the bats, which was just hilarious. He is so, so funny. And whenever a shard pierces my brain, he comforts and soothes me better. So loving.

This is the third night in a row that I'm staying up. I think I must have slept for quite a while today, maybe as many as six hours, which is why I'm not tired tonight. Well there's nothing on the radio at the moment.

I hope I'm wrong in all the above. I hope H manages to allow herself to be stretched into shape. I hope there are further dimensions to the L events which contextualises all my worries and concerns away. I hope my pain goes away.

yeah I must have gone to bed at about half past three and I got up at about nine I think. And I had the mother of headaches. Two aspirin weren't enough; I had to have four.

I told Mister C not to mess with me on my home ground. Told him I'd forgotten more about abstract thought that he'd ever know. Went a bit OTT actually. Then I brought him up to speed with the reason why things are as they are. Not in the same way as I had to write to H, who is presently believing with ever greater longth, deepth, highth and broadth together with all the saints.

I don't know why, now. I was bored; and I was just pissed off at him because he thought he'd asked me an unanswerable question and niggled his "Just a thought" in a really irritating tone of voice given that he'd just dropped a wet fart and made a nasty smelly mess in his scants for Wilma to wash but actually it was an old idea from the sixties or even from the previous century really and in any case entirely irrelevant to anyone because it was as I have already pointed out predicated on erroneous assumptions about the ways of God. In some ways he seems on message but at other times his mind displays the nipple high waisted trousers and the fraying braces of an senile man.