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

Tis a time for treating myself gently, for I am tired and worn out. Partly it's because the den is taking so long getting done; I don't feel completely settled at home because things are in a state of unreadiness and flux. They must just get on with it.

I've got to go to Claremont to fetch my trousers from Sandra the sewing-mistress. So I'll drop by at the Spur and have a "Ranch" breakfast. Yum, I'm drooling at the thought. Big steak and chips and bacon and egg and mushrooms, serious yum. I'll go at around nine. Probably by taxi, unless the weather is really inclement, then I'll drive.

Have to say it's got to that time in the winter when I feel for the first time, I've had enough of this winter, let it shine again, and be warm. It's only the beginning of July; there's three months of winter left, basically. November is Spring and it's not properly hot again until December. I must think of a way of celebrating the summer, something to do to mark the season and to remember it by. A few years ago I went to Tyger Valley. I must really think hard and pull something better out of the hat than a trip to Tyger Valley.

It's rumbling, I don't know why it should rumble so. It makes the early morning grim with despair. How awful. So let's cheer up and not be like those frowning foreign gentlemen in orange velveteen, as the Classics say. But then I think of all those poor wee ones with not enough to eat. O Lord, thou knowest.

Yeah, for a so-called "hot country" it's pretty dismal and drear, the Cape winter. I say it every year. Not at all a pretty season.

I should have my den back for the summer! Ha, I'm supposed to have it for most of the winter, but at this rate, who knows. Another month? Why does it have to take so terribly long for these people to get their act together? They are terribly friendly at the shop, of course. Ibrahim the Measurer is very nice fellow. Yolanda is lovely. Maria and Dimitri are lovely people and Dimitri seems full of joy and happiness. Delightful. So they're a pleasure to do business with, just terribly terribly slow.

Still, you know that the job will be a good 'un once they're done. I've chosen a striking combination of colours - cream, green and mauve - it's quite sober though and should look marvellous when the lights are on, shining into the curtains. No desk in there will make it a totally different room, with a more relaxed feel. It's practically empty in there at the moment, although full of cold - the coldest room in a very cold flat - why, asked Rigby, did you buy a South-facing flat? Good question. Anyway, I did, and I've invested far, far too much already in Shem Elohim, to think about selling it and finding somewhere with a little less coldth and brr shiver shiver drip-nose.

Mind you with the radiator on it's warm as toast in there, and of course you can adjust the heat with a thermostat, so it's basically sorted in there really. With the radiator you don't even need to keep a window open, although I probably will. It needs an extractor fan really, for the smoke. You should have seen the state of the ceiling! Terrible it was.

I'll need a handyman to connect up some wires, although if the circuit is simple I could do it myself. I'll have to plan the electricity better than I did it before, as well. Lamps will be required. One on the hifi table, one on the coffee table, one on the bookcase. One on the bookcase behind me; one on the bookcase shining onto the chaise (and NOT into my eyes). (Rumble, rumble.) I hope the projector survived the work.

A couple of Standard lamps, I think, which lend such a genteel air to a room. There are lots of Standard lamps in Shem Elohim, I find. I could do with a really hot bath. As if to accentuate the spiritual filth, that place didn't even have any soap in the bathroom! Quite inadequate all round. If I were to review it I'd give it a bad review. The bedding was lumpy and horrible; it all collected into a narrow strip. I was, thinking back, terribly uncomfortable in that place. No wonder I left and came home early. What would cheer me up now would be a really nice hot cup of tea. A hot bath in a warm bathroom, fluffy towels, and a nice Saturday evening in, that's what I need now. Instead of which, I have a cold bathroom, no hot water in the geyser and Friday morning, and I have to go out. Still, not for very long; and I can have breakfast while I'm out, and even pretend to enjoy it. Although I don't like eating in public. It's never very comfortable and goes down in lumps. Brr shiver shiver, I'm sitting under an open window because of the gas. Anyway. I'll put my Docs on and go out and force the morning to be warm enough without that hollow feeling you get from artificial warmth.

Onward!

Andrew says I should write the movie 'The People Next Door'. I could make them up out of all the neighbours I've had over the years, the great predominancy of whom have been practising deuil-worshippers. Bilious.

Man stopped a flight and turned it back by the power of chanting. He was chanting loudly and making fellow passengers feel "uncomfortable". The airline does not know what he was chanting.

Is it a co-incidence that I was pestered by chanting Weds night, and hear about chanting happening Friday morn? Is this the rising of the anger of the Darkened Ane? That's two incidences. Make it a third, and we know we have a global rise in the incidency of chanting.

One man to turn an airliner round in the sky and make it return to its airport of hence. One man to be arrested and had up on a charge of Disturbing the Peace and deuil-worship. Oh, I forgot: it is legal to venerate the Hopeless One in this world. Unbelievable. When I'm President I shall force it underground and make it a capital offence, to speed them on their way to meet the One with the Burning Bum.

Govt-run healthcare doesn't work? The NHS used to work in the Mother Country, until that Mr Blair broke it.

"Put an end to your torment," advises the man on the radio.

I'm getting ready to go out now. Going to get a big old Ranch breakfast at the Spur.

It's cold. 14 degrees at the Airport. I have to go to the 7-11 but I'm putting it off, at least until well after luncheontide. Don't fancy going out in the cold again. Perhaps if I put on a thick shirt. At the moment I've got a T-shirt and my old blue cardigan, which has more holes in than were the designer's intention. It needs another layer.

Got to go and get electricity.

Went to the 7-11 before it got dark. That was a successful trip out.

Listened to my Theme and Variations again. I love that piece. I've emailed the dedicatee to find out whether she's got far in learning them, and if so, whether I can go up to Natal and hear her play them. I'd be SO interested to hear someone else's interpretation of my music.

New piece (piano solo) come upon me with a crushing weight like a sickness, never had this intense urgency before, to write music, like a weight that must be lifted. Harmonies coming to me. Necessity to get the music out of me or it will harm me. Never had this before.

Let's see where it goes.

Reset the router, so of course the printer was assigned a new IP, so it stopped working. Somehow managed to find a new way of getting it working which was much simpler than the way I've previously done it - which I can never remember how I did it, until I have to do it.

Anyway it's working now, which is excellent.

Show on parties seemed to exist through a spirit of fear or anxiety. No wonder I never liked it. It seems the endgame is that Eve was deceived; they don't like being reminded of this, it appears to be completely unsayable, unthinkable, yet this basic deception lies at the fundament of all life in the world of people which they insist I join. The truth is that all I am missing out on, is a world based on Eve's deception, so it isn't as if it's anything important. The whole world of people is based around the deception of Eve.

No I wouldn't want to know even if it that knowledge were available to me. What's the point? It's all vanity, it's all a vanishing nothing, an evanescence, a nothing. A deceived woman pretending to be the big queen bee. Balls to that.

They'll try to shut you down for thinking that. Yawn.

They've got nothing he wants; I think giving that up was the main decision, somehow. They all wanted what women had to give them, but they seemed not to care that they only give through having been deceived - the whole system is corrupt. So he decided, in his taken-to-logical-conclusion way, that it wasn't worth having in the first place. This means great solitude and aloneness, but much usefulness to God. Which, despite what the (deceived) gynaikes say in ML, is all that matters in this life or the next. Give it all up for God, even the knowledge of what you are doing for God, give it all to God. You end up empty of everything, which is strange when Jesus came to give life more abundantly. Who knows. Give your life to God means be completely destroyed from off the face of the planet and having nothing left for yourself, because you gave it all to God. Incomprehensible mystery. Steward of the mysteries. Knowing and loving.

People often talk about giving up everything to God, but if you had given up EVERYTHING to God, you wouldn't know that you had, because you would have given that knowledge up to God as well. So as long as there is still utterance, there is still as yet unyielded self. God struck, dumb struck.

People often talk about giving up everything to God, but if you had given up EVERYTHING to God, you wouldn't know that you had, because you would have given that knowledge up to God as well. So as long as there is still utterance, there is still as yet unyielded self. God struck, dumb struck.

The life in God, as far as this world goes, is like Korsakoff's syndrome, a sea of forgetfulness as everything is handed over for God to take. The yielded life is a life completely obliterated from the face of the planet. The yielded life is the annihilated life.

Of course your Christianity must be the last thing to go, but it rarely goes, people hang on to it for dear life. Awareness of faith must go. Awareness of God must go, given back to God. Everything must be annihilated in an overwhelming fog of folly and unknowing. This is the "cloud of unknowing" and it cannot be faked. Few find it, and those who do are unable to report it because they do not know they have found it.

because knowledge of having found it is itself given up to God. where all there is, is a cloud of folly and nothingness, there is nothing but God. The nothingness of the fool is wiser than the highest wisdom. The one who is in God is he who knows not that he is in God.

all is givenness. Give God back to God.

and people begin to disappear... vanishing into the fog of the folly of God... one by one they disappear without leaving a trace...

Enoch walked with God, and then he was not, because God took him

There is a state higher than walking with God. it is revealed in the word "einennu" which means "he is not". To walk with God, is good; to be not, is better.

The only way to be not, is that God take you. You cannot will it on yourself. Not-being is pure gift. Unearned and undeserved. Based on God's grace and not by works, lest any man should boast.

The only way that God take you, is that you walk with God.

No man can say, "I am not".

And that would appear to be that. Nothing much else to say. That's me done. Can I go home now?

Binky was awfully sweet today.

I appear to be sitting up again tonight. I should go to bed. But I'm too, my mind is too switched on to sleep.

Night and silence. It is 12 minutes past 2.

It is 4:53 and I have watched "Britten's Endgame" which was a remarkable documentary on the final years of the great man. Really enjoyed that. At the same time with "Einennu" I feel I have as it were come of age and that writing is the best thing I've done so far. It's an extreme teaching but it's orthodox, I suppose it's myticism really. Nothing new of course. But new for me to have had the utterance. And I enjoyed it, very much indeed. It all came out on Facebook! The Internet has been pivotal to me. It encourages concision of expression and precision. I was experimenting with Twitter and hit a seam of great darkness which I thought it best not to pursue, although that may have been a mistake, bring it out and it will save you and all that. "Three words," the girl said. Then they were disappointed and she told me to grow up. That was sad, and not really what one wants when one is trying to enjoy breakfast. The mechanicals attend one's every public movement with their utterance.

Yeah, Einennu needs to be cleaned up and I want it published but I don't know how you do that. It's only 350 words or so. It could possibly stand at the beginning of my book on Wisdom (Words Vol. 3). Yes I think so. It is after all a distillation of the Bible's teaching on the Cross. Timor Domini initium sapientiae. yirat adonai reishit da'at.

Feeling deliciously tired at just past five am.