Swimming in Your Ocean

I just dove into your sea of ideas
In doing so you splashed yourself to me
It seemed I drowned in your diatom auras
That moment I was most free.

I floated on your warm current of desires
Was jerked awake with the thermocline of your convictions
Surprised by your talent’s marine fires
I swooned in the whirlpool of your emotions.

I dare not touch the jellyfish of your jealousies
Nor the hammerheads of your poseidon tensions
I clung to the dolphins of your siren ecstasies
Rode with the whales of your decisions.

Despite the storms above your ocean
I found the calm of your depths
When it’s darkest in my landlocked prison
Your bioluminescence of your sea creatures beckons me in the deeps.

Having swum in your ocean I can breathe better in you
Your wet embrace I’ll always seek
Your heartwave pours in me through and true
As we both scale your underwater peak.

Filed under: Behavior, Love Poems, Poetry, Writing, love, lovers, relationships , friend or lover, inspired by another poet, sappy is it

Traitor’s Death LAST PART

For Traitor’s Death Part 1 CLICK THIS LINK
For Traitor’s Death Part 2 CLICK THIS LINK

One evening I was dragged from my home by the same marines I’ve met at the underground bunker and I was whisked to a location we reached on a helicopter. One bonked me on the head when I asked why the heck, the other rifle butted me on the stomach. I lost consciousness and came to at a large conference room and was thrown to the chair at the back. It seemed the Who’s Who of criminal and terrorist organizations were there, and they were bidding for the device, displayed within a glass case, and was well into the millions, with the General playing the auctioneer. He told the assembly I was the one who brought him the gadget, but I would soon be eliminated, to show that he meant business. A man stood up to plead for my life, saying I just might produce another one. He told them a series of tests were already made by the scientists and they could not determine the make, much less how to open it.

“You scheming old bastard, you’re selling our security to these assholes, are you out of your mind?” I shouted, despite being tied.
“I don’t give a shit!” he retorted, “I’m going to retire in some Pacific island in style while I watch my colleagues rack their brains on figuring out a way to counter this threat.”
At that very moment,. The lights went out. The capos called for their security guards, the marines that held me in place both fell and thudded on the floor. There was a furor as cell phones flashed, and most scrambled to the only door but it was locked. One by one, the men screamed as if something was killing them slowly until only the general shouting his terror was the only thing heard as he crawled under table.

The lights went back on.

All the men, the marines in and outside the building, the henchmen and thugs at the parking lot, were all dead. He helped me up, the vampire, who informed me, his human allies had neutralized the others. The bosses however, he dispatched himself. How, I can guess, judging from their pale faces. He commanded me to shoot the General, handing me a pistol. I did it, gladly.

He counted on this to happen he told me. He was trying to test whether this kind of invention would be compromised, and he was proven right in his suspicions. He hired a private army of mercenaries, and meant to take back the gadget at the slightest sign of its misuse. He finally ended with the conclusion that his greed for blood was only surpassed by the human’s greed for power and money. He drove me back to my suite. I said farewell.

I had finally resigned form both the military and agency, and funny, they readily accepted it, and gave me a heft lump sum. I do have to change my identity and move of the country for fear of reprisals or what not. I just want to be left in peace, even for a while. As for the invention, the vampire left to me as a souvenir. He said, one day, mankind might need it, and I was to be its guardian. Which maybe indefinitely, now that I have discovered, I have an abnormally long lifespan.

Filed under: Behavior, Horror Thriller, Psychology, Sci-Fi, Short Story, Social Commentary, Writing, death, humor , disloyalty, futurism, greed, paranormal, pen itch, Sci-Fi, terrorism, treachery, vampirism

Criticism of Logical Atomism: Navarro’s Synthetic Atomization

The end of analytical capability/inquiry on a certain analyzed object underscores the finiteness of human knowledge or its inability to undertake multidimensional/complete definition without the analyst resorting to its actions/reactions/non-reactions with multiple vectors or material and motion/force potential influences, which may only be done up to the point of transactional relevance.

Because the essence of an object is not so much of its composition than it is in its possible interactions with other objects and forces in various environments, so much so that there is no true complete logical atomic analysis but potentiality synthesis.

The existence of possibilities for synthetic definition of an object [whose logical atomism would be the simplification of that which cannot be simplified], is impossible, except through relevant experience and its composition coupled/interrelated with posited consequence of the objects coming in contact with others, which can be infinite, and whose infinity underscores our (human species) infinite ignorance of its multiplicity.

The attempt at logical atomism is absurd for if the term itself would lead to the enlightenment of this theory of philosophy, the atoms themselves are composed of subatomic particles which in themselves display various chemical behaviors and reactions when in contact with other elements’ atoms and forces. Hence, logical atomism, if defined in this view, would be a practical and wholly non-abstractive philosophical exercise when the logical atoms themselves are in themselves concept-groups that become atomized or of one element/unitary if their actions-in-logical-analysis-inherent/essential to them in regularity coincides with their perceived or usual consequence on a regular interaction.

For concept-groups to be synthetically defined in regularity, the general consequence of their interactions should take precedent upon recognition of the cause-object to be analyzed/defined which in fact synthesized based on practical relevance. Such that the prime number one cannot be a logical atom by itself by saying it is thus on account of its indivisibility and that it is a number that is singular. This definition/description is in itself is still a concept-group. And the permutations that can be had with one placed in relation with other numbers leads to the synthesis of its properties or accumulation of its further definition. Such that numbers themselves are infinite, synthesis not grounded on relevant consequence necessary at the moment would render that moment’s philosophizing futile.

To illustrate, post-colonial nativism aims to put in the forefront native culture and its elements so as to humanize the masses and to provide them national pride. The concept-groups here would be the sociological/cultural/literary theory, and the propagandistic objective/consequence, i.e., unity among natives, promotion of local/non-alien culture, as a perceived goal. To simplify: Theory + Perceived Good. However, nativist adherents have discriminated against hybridist/colonialists or of mixed cultural background. Taking this to account what really happens as the consequence of the promotion of this way of thinking is: Theory + Good = Bad. Nativists would be logical atomists themselves if they’d insist that what they’re doing is for the good of the native land and that they’re criticism of hybridists and their insistence that they’d convert into nativists would not be a violation of hybridists’ cultural rights would be a one-sided view of this theory confrontation. The true logical conclusion to this that is really a synthetic definition of the nativist post-colonial theory and the influence on its adherents’ intolerance of hybridists is to remind them of the humanity of the hybridists as well, in itself an action of synthetic definition and de-finition of a logical exercise, and their intransigence is only proof of the futility of the nativists’ notion that such a movement would bring absolute good to all peoples.

True analytical definition is in fact a synthesis of concept-groups with what they cause on a regular basis. That’s when concept-groups are united in themselves and become truly logically atomized.

True logical exercise is synthetic in nature, based on the conjunction of concept-groups and the regularity of the results of their interactions with other concept-groups.

This is Navarro’s Synthetic Atomism theory of philosophy.

More on this, soon.

Filed under: Deconstructionist, Essay, Metaphysics, Philosophy, Psychology, Social Commentary, Writing, thoughts , consequentialist, criticism, empiricism, logic, philosophizing, Russell, theory

Traitor’s Death PART 2

FOR Traitor’s Death PART 1/CLICK THIS LINK

I was typing my “resignation letter” addressed to the agency head when I felt someone was standing behind me as I sat on my desk. I turned around and I saw a young man with wavy long chestnut hair, brilliant white skin and violet eyes smiling at me, with pointed fangs on both ends of his red lips. He was wearing a leather jacket on a silk shirt and well tailored jeans. His shoes were sparkling black. We eyed each other for a moment until he spoke without moving his lips.
“I just might be of help to you.
“You’re a vampire, aren’t you?” I said aloud.
“I’m flattered you know.
“Some novelist wrote a good description of you.” We had exchanged our pleasantries until finally he buckled down to business.

He told me, going about with eyes that don’t blink, transparent fingernails, or having to order drinks in bars, pretending to be human, has become more of a hassle for him, and he came upon the idea of designing a gadget that could render him invisible as he roamed the city. Only in places that’s very dark could he revert to being visible and still mingle among humans.

Putting his preternatural memory and learning to bear, he was able to construct a device that could be worn on the shoulders, like a top part of a closed silver jacket with four ovoids, two on each shoulder, one on the chest and one at the spine. This could transmit images directly to the eyes all the ambient surroundings so that the wearer is “covered” by the real time filming and digitalizing of objects, people, movement, and places behind and around the wearer, making him, invisible. The device is attuned to every organic optical apparatus within several meters, so that even dogs and cats couldn’t see except what they are made to see, down to the last detail.

The vampire had created a very, very fast processor and so sophisticated a light emitter that only his mind could have comprehended and manufactured, whose some parts and elements were sub-molecular-ly altered by his vampiric telekinesis. Thus, he could travel public places at will without arousing panic and fear. A nifty device, I told my self, not fit for pervs though. He said, he’s prepared to loan me the device without even asking me why. I bet he already knew. He did sample for me. He took it out of his knapsack bag, placing it over his clothes. He turned it on with a press of a silver button at the chest ovoid, two slits flashed re and blue, and then, without any sensation to my eyes, he vanished and what I saw was the wall behind him, complete with my wall paintings and to the dust that clung to the wallpaper. The wall clock hand even moved on time. How in science could it be done. I’ll never know. He reappeared, took it off, and laid it on my desk. Then, he zipped from whence he came, a window I had locked moments before..

I brought the device to Gen. Bartlett in his posh office, miles under a ranch, who lost no time in hugging me and promising me bonuses galore, and was utterly flabbergasted when all he saw was his plaques and commendations behind me spangling his wood paneled office as I turned it on. I left it with him and was escorted morosely by two marines to the surface, and drove back to my house. Now, I felt truly safe from those nuts who’d want to slam airplanes unto our fast-food chains.

That was only the beginning.

TO BE CONTINUED…THE LAST INSTALLMENT COMING SOON!

Filed under: Behavior, Horror Thriller, Psychology, Sci-Fi, Short Story, Social Commentary, Writing, death, humor , disloyalty, futurism, greed, paranormal, pen itch, Sci-Fi, terrorism, treachery, vampirism

Traitor’s Death PART 1

I am what they call in the classified military projects division, Special Ops Liaison Officer or S.O.L.O. My job is to seek out assets that would give our military the advantage over the enemy, given that that potential threat is already faceless, territory-less, and unconventional as far as the army is concerned. Remember 9-11? So you see, national security can no longer be assured by the world’s leading military superpower, and neither could the others in this global village.

I have received the agency’s unwanted notice when I single-handedly busted a crime boss that’s a coddler of many foreign agents stealing industrial secrets from our country. He’s responsible for the deaths of surveillance teams, spy vets, and local sheriffs tailing those infiltrators whose corporations pay the boss bundles so much so his earnings from white slavery and cocaine have become small change.

If you haven’t noticed, nowadays, espionage and information theft are more financed and undertaken by multinats and conglomerates than by governments, although, they have their blessing. And, many a citizen has sold his own country to outsiders for a price. Thus, our monopoly on inventions is so far, short-lived.

This crime boss had kidnapped and raped a friend of mine on a whim. Confident of my connections, I sought him out. Thus far, I have a knack for meeting mediums, ESP’ers, and people who are not what they seem. With the help of a telepath, I was able to elude and knock out his security retinue and shoot the bastard in the head. I recall the look on his face when I went in his bedroom and pulled the trigger. I found it morbidly funny. Call it gallows humor.

The agency was baffled how I did it, and they haven’t put a finger on the guy, and now, he’s six feet below the ground. They contacted me. I thought they’d just guffaw their neckties off in that conference room with a fashionable one way mirror, when I told them how. They served me the best coffee and crispy chocolate crusted donuts with vanilla cream filling though. And they did not laugh. They put me on a salary, good enough to make me do my writing part-time, and with a sumptuous suite and car to boot. So far, I have to my credit a few botched high profile assassinations, serial killer liquidations, and the timely interception of a ship filled with plague virus canisters disguised as raspberry flavored body spray meant to take out the seacoast population of Australia. The occult leader who masterminded that confessed he was just trying to avert Judgment Day, predicted by his holy scriptures.

The agency tried to go to my contacts directly, but of course, they shunned them like the plague. They only dealt through me, having the natural bent and belief in the paranormal and the occult from my collection of novels of the same genre. Besides, they only lent help only when they want to, and the agency wanted to control them like guinea pigs. So they’re stuck with me, and I can’t help them on when they can win the lottery or meet their one true love, selfish stuff like that.

Now, the main threat to the world order is the doomsday planning of a few cells which are so undetectable and so unpredictable in their movements so that deep penetration is necessary. Cults and religious fanatics top the list of recreating the international scene in their own image and likeness, full beards and all. However mediums and seers can only get so far as detecting very destructive thoughts in the Mainland, and, as I suspect, these fiendish groups have diviners and psi-talents of their own, so, parapsychic incursion would be futile. Which gave me an idea, at the same time the army “borrowed” me from the agency, whose think tanks were strategizing on how to counter threat to world order, and to our export and movie market. Under the office of the General Bartlett, a Santa Claus looking old man with a sharp blue eyes and a bald pate, they gave me this assignment, and the assurance that I’d be richly rewarded for my service for the country, so I went about asking questions on how to have a “cloak of invisibility” and to truly slip in undetected into these neo-terror cells bent on plunging the free world into a new Dark Ages.

This time, my contacts laughed at me, saying, I read too much science fiction. I was about to report to the special ops commander that they terminate my S.O.L.O. contract when someone else found me: a vampire.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Filed under: Behavior, Horror Thriller, Psychology, Sci-Fi, Short Story, Writing, death, humor , disloyalty, futurism, greed, paranormal, pen itch, Sci-Fi, terrorism, treachery, vampirism