Higgs Boson

OK so it seems there's this thingy that was discovered yesterday.  Hooray we found God!!!  But really what did we find and what does it mean?  I am talking about this Higgs Boson aka The God Particle.  My husband wants to know  if it is the "God" particle why it did not discover itself.  Good point.  Ha!  I asked Steph what she thought about the whole thing.

The Higgs Boson was discovered yesterday (7/4/2012) – your birthday J  I spent a while figuring out exactly what this meant.  On numerous occasions (mostly on wiki while waiting for a program to run at work) I’ve tried exploring the whole particle accelerator / annihilator, the standard model and the various flavors of decay, but my physics background just doesn’t bridge the gap between interest and understanding.

So, there’s no point in talking about the ‘God Particle’ as if I have a clue about how it was actually discovered, the math behind it all, and why yesterday was the tipping point for the number of observations necessary to qualify for the Sigma 5 status of “Discovery”.

But I will ponder why the average Joe should even care, it’s not like they could ever prove it wrong, and if somebody did prove “it” wrong (where “it” = a data blip found among yotta-bytes of data by a super-computer signifying the existence of the theorized interaction necessary to validate… (I can’t say with more than Sigma 3 confidence, so I won’t even try))…

If somebody ever did prove “it” wrong, it’s not like mass, the standard unit of measure, would freak out or change somehow – nobody would even notice (unless the news was re-tweeted enough times to get enough energy to exist as a non-virtual entity) except for the people whose reputations depend on the validity of the data blip.

Or would the standard unit of mass care?  I think maybe it would since its definition is on very shaky ground – being the only SI still tied to a physical artifact and all. Maybe this is the break its been waiting for, the ultimate make over – to be defined in terms of decay.

OK, this is what I want to know – am I any closer to having a replicator that can make me some earl grey – hot? 

Are these Higgs Bosons the minds that give the ‘mass’ stem cells their identity?  Are there more than one Higgs Boson, or if you’ve found one – you’ve found them all?

I read on wiki today that there are some skeptics who doubt the foundation upon which the Higgs hypothesis was built. (However the top of the screen said that this entry may be too difficult to follow for non-technical readers, and to check back soon for the summarized version – I ignored the warning and read on). 

There was talk of Technicolor theories, models of physics beyond the standard model that address electro-weak symmetry breaking – the process by which particles acquire mass.  The Technicolor theory claims to be natural – with no need to ‘fine-tune’ parameters in order to get mathematically pleasing results.

I like any theory that goes against the grain, especially ones that go against grains of unknown varieties.  My most favorite theories are ones that can go against grains that it generates itself, spontaneously, right out of thin air – while streaking – au natural – through the dark music of phase cancelled space.

I’ve decided to come up with one of those types of theories in response to yesterday’s discovery to use in my next book.

Carlos Castaneda Part 2

Here is another installment of Stephanie's view of Carlos Castaneda.

Moving the Assemblage Point – Shifting your awareness away from the usual filters though which you view reality.

Don Juan described the assemblage point as the energetic nexus of awareness located between the shoulder blades. I understood this to be the anchor of my physical, earthly concept of reality. My identity is defined by the way I am programmed to view the world, and since birth, as each day passed, my anchor gained mass until my personality became so fixed that very few influences were capable of shifting my concept of existence. So much so, that any personal goals and desires which contradicted this fixed anchor of perception were very difficult to implement – as they required a vast amount of energy to alter my anchor.

I am speaking of myself in the past tense, as though I am now able to morph my identity with ease.  This is not the case.  I am very much ME – with ego intact. My filters of perception are fully fixed. However, I am keenly aware of them, and the hold they have over me.

But, I recognize that there is another ‘I’, a higher ‘I’, which is the seer – wearing my filters as goggles. And if my goggles change, that ‘I’ never stops being the seer – it just watches a new show.

I also recognize that there is another ‘I’, the ‘I’ which exists between the two planes of awareness, the ‘I’ that has the ability to alter the goggles – the programmer – the ‘I’ which can manipulate the filters of the mind – the ‘I’ which is continually aware of the fixed nature of the filters – and in that manner – somewhat free from their gravity – the ‘I’ that is self-aware.

By moving this fixed assemblage point of perception, the ‘I’ of self-awareness is shifted and becomes even more detached – closer the ‘I’ of the Seer.

Don Juan began his teachings with Carlos by trying to instill a level of command over his assemblage point. He did this with a variety of exercises to slowly erode the anchor of awareness, while occasionally shocking his assemblage point into abrupt shifts to convince Carlos that his reality could, in fact, be altered – drastically.

I’ll talk next about the methods, and my attempts, to slowly erode the dense anchor which holds my assemblage point fixed…

Shiatsu

Back in the mid 90s Stephanie and I attended shiatsu massage classes.  Both of us practiced it for a few years.  For me it started when a friend received a gift certificate for a shiatsu massage from her husband.  He worked with the wife of a practicing shiatsu massage therapist.  This therapist eventually turned into one of my mentors.  He talked me into taking classes.  I talked Stephanie into joining me on this strange journey.  This is her side of the story.

In 1994(ish), Kim and I decided that our calling of the day was to be Shiatsu therapists. I’d been working as a programmer / database architect for five years and was in the midst of my second mid-life crisis. I’d left the world of full time employment and was working temporary gigs as a consultant. The pay was insane (almost double what I made as a salaried employee), so I was able to take large chunks of time off to follow the Dead and Phish around the country and take week long Shiatsu workshops with the Ohashiatsu school of oriental massage in Evanston, Illinois.

Shiastu is different from regular, Swedish massage in a number of ways.  Firstly, the client is fully clothed and lies on a mat on the floor. Secondly, instead of trying to work out muscular knots, the goal is to manipulate energy (chi) in the body in the same way as acupuncture, on the same points (tsubos) on the same energy lines (meridians) in order to restore overall balance.  There is an entire philosophy of Eastern medicine which this type of massage follows, which makes the training that much more intensive.

At the beginning of our training, we went to a week-long workshop at Honeycreek, a camp in Wisconsin with cabins and a lake and a mess hall. The experience was magical and transformational, and we were hooked.  There’s nothing better than a shiatsu massage, and a non-stop week of it, even by novices, was heavy-duty.

The main gist of a session is to restore balance by releasing stagnant energy from meridians that are blocked (jitsu) and to increase the energy in meridians that are lacking (kyo). Each meridian relates to different internal organs which relate to various emotional excesses or deficiencies, so restoring balance is considered to be healing to both body and mind.

That week changed my whole energetic configuration. A major block in my yang wood meridian (gall bladder) was coaxed into releasing some of its control – and my overall outlook on life was just different afterward – similar to how I was changed by my first Grateful Dead concert.

I don’t necessarily believe in the whole theoretical model on which the practice of shiatsu is based, but I do agree with the need for models as a way of describing and distinguishing the framework for being. There are many models that were created to define the self  - like chakras, auras, and astrology – but I don’t think they are ‘Real’ because they are immeasurable and subject to individual interpretation.

 I see them as just tools, like a language, to help people get on the same page when discussing the subtleties of existence. It was uncanny, however, that the deep-seated pains and ailments in my body correlated directly with the personality traits of a jitsu wood element with a kyo earth element.

 It would be ridiculous to believe that five elements (water, fire, metal, wood, earth), which were chosen before the periodic table was invented, can define our state of being, just as the alignment of the planets at our birth could never generate a predestined personality - I am a Scorpio and my personality didn't change when when Pluto was downgraded to a dwarf influence on our solar system.

Question:  How many of you really identify with your astrological sign and feel it is an accurate representation of your character?  How many know your moon sign and rising sign - are these accurate as well?   

Sorry - I lost focus...this post is getting long - ask me more about my mid-life crises and my stint as a massage therapist / yoga instructor some time, and you will hear more about my thoughts on Shiatsu.  And ask me about the Echo of Life - remember that?

Negative Thoughts

Today I am wrestling with negative thoughts I am really starting to get on my own nerves. I cannot get anything accomplished today.  So I thought I'd get some advise or insight from Stephanie.  This is what she had to say...

OK – as far as negative thoughts go – it requires diligent work to abolish them, but it isn’t really that hard (as long as you are properly medicated - ** we can discuss the long-term effects of cannabis / hallucinogen usage later **). 

 

Every time you have a thought that isn’t positive, reprimand yourself like a parent would.  "Stand up straight, stop slouching, get your elbows off the table, get your hair out of your plate, look both ways, ..." The need to remind yourself never stops, but it does become less frequent. And eventually negative thoughts take you by surprise, because days or weeks have gone by without having one.

 

Every negative thought decreases your personal power and, when shared, can function as a psychic energy vacuum - causing the person listening to either try to make it all better, or to join you in your mental cesspool and feed your negativity, or to just tune you out (which is lonely for both of you).  I don't know of many people who can field the negativity of others like a skilled diplomat.

 

Until my first mushroom cap, I was hard and cynical - negative about everything - very righteous and condescending and intolerant. But after that night, I decided to unload the baggage that was weighing down my soul. The unloading process was unpredictable, sometimes slow - sometimes instantaneous, as was my ability to isolate and accept ownership of the baggage in the first place. 

 

My ability to wrestle down most of my negative thoughts is a fairly recent development - maybe only within the last few years.  When I first started to scold myself - maybe that's the wrong analogy - it's more like using the reins and your heels to keep a stubborn horse in line.  When I first started self-correcting, I'd sometimes have the same negative thought a hundred times in a day, and every time I would say 'Stop it, shut up already, you're annoying me, I thought I told you to shut up, ...'. 

 

It became funny after a while - 'wow, you're up to that again? what made you start saying that?' It became easy to isolate the event that triggered the flair up. But then, some new negative thought would enter into the picture under my radar - festering unnoticed until it ruptured into my attention.

 

I stuck with it, and the negative chatter eventually lost its hold. But in writing this, I am wondering if I need to take inventory of my thoughts to catch any evil lurkers that I may be missing....

Carlos Castaneda Part 1

I have read nearly all of Carlos's books and Steph has read them all a few times.  I've asked her to talk about their impact on her life.

How the Carlos Castanedas books affected my life (Part I – An Overview)

When I was 19, the summer before my Junior year of college, I went to Maui with my parents and came across the books ‘The Sorcerer’s Crossing: A Woman’s Journey’ by Taisha Abelar and ‘The Handbook for Higher Consciousness’ by Ken Keyes, Jr. After the trip, back at my parents’ house, I found Carlos Castanedas’s first book – ‘Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way ofKnowledge’ on my mom’s bookshelf. An interesting coincidence since I’d finished the book of his disciple, Taisha (she went by many other names I came to find out), a few days earlier on the plane.

The book interested me because its study of power plants (I was quite enamored with cannabis at the time), but I don’t think I was aware of the connection between Carlos and Taisha at the time. Carlos’s book was disappointingly dry and read like the doctoral dissertation in anthropology that it began as (or actually was – I’m not sure). The entire second half of the book listed research references and was even drier than the first half, in which he recounted his encounters with a Yaqui Indian sorcerer (Nagual) named Don Juan Matus. But, the concepts described in the book resonated in me deeply and plucked a cord of awareness that had been resting quietly, only virtually present, waiting for its opportunity to oscillate into existence.

A few months later, after an awkward break-up and a jarring motorcycle accident, I moved into the boarding house with you (Kimberly Jane Bennett), and my unraveling began. Let’s circle back to the details of that year in later questions – k?

Throughout my twenties, I proceeded to read all of the Carlos Castanedas books which were written as a layered tapestry of different teachings by his Toltec teachers, Don Juan and Don Genero, and the related ‘magical happenings’ that occurred. Carlos remembered these encounters with his naguals (masters of existential sorcery) as disjointed waves of perception that occurred over the same period of time, and he recounted his experiences in varying levels of detail in each subsequent book.

I am going to discuss these different teachings and levels of understanding in installments (most likely not consecutive). A summary of the basic concepts is listed below, all of which need to be performed in order to SEE and DREAM, which form the realm of the 2^nd ATTENTION.

-------

Losing Self Importance – The process of unraveling the ego – a necessary transformation to release the energy which binds us to our dense existence as a physical, socialized being with needs and expectations.

Controlled Folly – Performing an action with the utmost tenacity and intent in achieving a beneficial outcome, but not caring whether or not you are ultimately successful. Like play acting your life as an expert actor, with full knowledge that you are just a character.

Not Doing – Choosing to perform an action in a manner that is not consistent with your character. Or to do anything that is out of the ordinary in order to expand the boundaries of your established personality.

Erasing Personal History – The act of loosening your connection with elements of the past that served to define the filters of perception through which you view reality. It is the act of rebirth – the becoming of a new self with no prior baggage to define your identity.

Recapitulation – The process of cataloging the events of your past that you remember as “defining moments” in the development of your filters of perception, and then recounting them, in exhaustive detail, while performing specific movements and breathing techniques in order to release the strength of their lingering impact.

Petty Tyrants – They are psychic vampires - those people in your life that try your patience or attempt to dominate you by stealing your personal power.  These people should be viewed as gifts from the universe, opportunities to exercise your will and overcome their psychic vacuum.

Moving the Assemblage Point – Shifting your awareness away from the usual filters though which you view reality.

Power Plants – Plants (such as cannabis) which move the assemblage point without having to perform the exercises listed above – they should be used sparingly – only to shock you into realizing that it is possible to view your existence in different (less restrictive) ways.

Affirmations from the Universe – Signs from the universe begin to appear when your energy levels have reached the level necessary to notice these affirmations.  They are not messages, just cosmic inside jokes, similar to somebody saying ‘testify’ after you’ve said something particularly profound.

Tell Us About Your First Dead Show

It was at the New World Music Theatre, Tinley Park, IL – Brent’s 2^nd to last show.

Transformational is the best word to describe it. I saw the light and was converted to a faithful follower of the Church of the Dead. It was a magical day that stripped away many layers of deep seated angst and cynicism, rendering me as free and unencumbered as a child.

I’m sure the mushroom cap helped me to accept the reckless abandon that overtook me, but without the Dead’s special brand of music and community, I wouldn’t have had the cathartic experience that evolved my soul. I was forever changed.

A chapter in Scarlet Begonias (Qualia Spectarum) goes into more detail about my experience that night, but is told as if it were a memory of Rajesh Weinstein, the physicist who is attempting to isolate the International Prototype Kilogram’s missing mass.  Here is the snippet which tells of my Dead re-birth:

gvh

“So where’d you get the pen from?” Driscol whispered, not intending for his question to sever their communion with the Ouisa.

Rajesh resumed his search for the pen and returned the vial of Ouisa to its protective pouch without either of them realizing that, without even having to uncap the most recent incarnation of Mannie’s potent elixir, the is-ness had entered orbit around the vibrating pinnacle of the Noumenon.

 “No, I got it at that Grateful Dead show in Las Vegas the weekend when we met,” Rajesh said into his pack. “I don’t know why we got off on the wrong foot back then, but I’m glad you decided to stop hating me.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about all that,” Driscol paused mid-apology, and the eerie quiet of the stairwell seemed to tug at his mid-section. “I didn’t think you were going to the show. You said you weren’t into the Dead.”

“I wasn’t back then. I don’t think I could’ve recognized a single song of theirs besides Trucking and Casey Jones,” Rajesh said. “I had no intention of going when I went back to the roulette table in the morning to see how close you guys were to becoming hundred-aires.”

“I think we left a little before sunrise,” Driscol said. “Mannie decided to call it quits when I passed out under the table.”

 “The same croupier was working when I looked for you after breakfast,” Rajesh said. “He was surprised that Mannie’s scheme had worked better than he’d expected. But after we talked awhile, we both agreed that, even if Mannie’s idea was viable, he would have to play all day, every day for a month to make any headway on turning his winnings into anything substantial.”

“So how’d you get a ticket to the show?” Driscol asked, practically banging his head into Rajesh’s to aid in the search. “They sold out right after they went on sale.”

“Mannie gave the croupier a ticket to the show as a tip, probably when you were passed out,” Rajesh nudged him away. “But he couldn’t go and knew I was looking for you guys, so he asked me if I wanted to buy it. I said yes because I wanted to find out for myself why the Dead was able to draw hippies from all over the country to come see them play.”

“I can’t believe you actually went,” Driscol said. “Did you go alone?”

“I didn’t want to. I tried to find you and Mannie again in the casino when my conference ended to ask if I could tag along, but the lobby was a madhouse,” Rajesh said. “I didn’t decide to go until the last minute. The Dead-heads in the lobby were so excited, and then all of a sudden I was in a cab and the doorman was closing the door. I don’t even remember getting in it.”

“Well? What did you think?” Driscol asked. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it from the minute I climbed out of the cab,” Rajesh said. “It was like I was entering a whole other world I never knew existed. Going to that show was probably the best thing that ever happened to me. I felt so at one with everything. It was like I wasn’t completely alive until that night.”

“That’s how everyone feels after their first time, except for the asshole intruders who tuck their shirts in too tight,” Driscol said, but realized his unintentional dig too late. “Oh shit, please tell me you didn’t have your shirt tucked in.”

“I did,” Rajesh said before Driscol seized the chance to bombard him with friendly insults, “But I didn’t leave that way, so don’t give me any grief about it.”

“So what got you to pull your shirt out of your pants?” Driscol asked, restraining himself from offending Rajesh the way he would have if he’d been with Mannie. “Were you getting it on in the back of a VW microbus with some hot hippy-chick?”

Rajesh played along and raised his eyebrows with suspenseful promise, but continued on with the disappointingly less titillating explanation of his fashion transformation.

“When the concert began, everyone around me stood up and started dancing like lunatics,” Rajesh said. “I felt so out of place at first just sitting there so I stood up, but I still felt like I was from outer space.”

“That’s because you are,” Driscol said, and all of the posters surrounding them seemed to contract in unified agreement.

Driscol looked at Rajesh to see if he’d experienced the strange telepathy also. Rajesh widened his eyes in silent confirmation, and they waited through an eventless moment of alert silence before Rajesh continued to recount the long-winded details of the untucking.

“The girl next to me stopped dancing and held her hand out to me like she wanted to shake my hand. It was so weird and out of the blue, I couldn’t imagine why she’d be doing that, but I shook it because I didn’t know what else to do.” Rajesh’s eyes darted around the surreal stairwell in anticipation of another telepathic episode. “Then she leaned over and asked me if I was all right and wanted to know why I was just standing still. She told me to loosen up and dance, but I didn’t want to dance. Everybody else looked like their bodies were supposed to move all wiggly like that, but all I could think about was how idiotic I’d look if I tried it.”

“But that’s the whole point.” Driscol’s emphatic response generated a jarring reverberation between the walls so he continued with a softer tone. “Nobody’s judging anybody at a Dead show. You’re supposed to look goofy. It should be a requirement to get in. You should’ve seen Suzi and Eve do one of their jimble dances.”

“I just felt like an outsider who didn’t belong,” Rajesh said. “But I wanted to dance. Everyone who was dancing seemed so happy. I wanted to be one of the happy people too, but my body wouldn’t let me.”

“I can’t be at a show and not dance,” Driscol said and noticed how uncomfortable he felt sitting stooped over on the hard stairs. He stood up and placed his hands on the stairs above him, sticking his behind out to form a partial downward-dog. The stretch released a flood of lurid images featuring Suzi striking a series of provocative yoga poses.

“My body starts to dance before the music even starts,” Driscol continued and leaned deeper into the stretch. “Sometimes I’ll even catch myself dancing when I’m not at a show, like somewhere in public where it would look pretty strange, especially since I look kind of strange already.”

He finished his stretch and picked up his guitar case. “So, did that dancing girl get you to loosen up?”

“She told me to take my shoes and socks off,” Rajesh said and followed Driscol down the stairs.

“My God, you were wearing socks?” Driscol stopped on the stairs in disbelief, turning to Rajesh to see if he was kidding.

“Don’t worry, I took them off,” Rajesh said. “She sprayed my feet with her spray bottle because it was still so hot outside. The water smelled like lavender and something else. I don’t know what it was, but it made me happy. It reminded me of the flowers growing behind my house in India, but spicier.”

“What happened after she moistened your naked feet?” Driscol nudged Rajesh as they walked past the deserted bar toward the stage. “Was she cute?”

“She was a big Mamma Cass looking hippy about forty-ish I guess, long hair, very earthy looking,” Rajesh recalled. “She was acting so silly that it made me laugh. She stood right in front of me and danced until I felt more stupid just standing there watching her than I would have if I’d just let myself dance, so I did, and it was amazing.”

“Rotund and middle-aged. Nice combo,” Driscol joked, “How amazing was it? Did she give you her room number?”

Rajesh took a second to think. “You know, it’s weird. Now that you mention it, she actually could have.”

“How could you not know?” Driscol asked. “Did she or didn’t she?”

“She asked if she could see my ticket stub,” Rajesh said, “and she handed it back to me along with the pen she wrote on it with. But a bunch of people knocked into me and I almost dropped them, and I didn’t want to stop dancing, so I just shoved them in my pocket without reading what she’d written. She hugged me real hard right before the song ended and then just danced away into the crowd.”

July 22^nd, 1990

1.Box of Rain

2.Feel Like a Stranger

3.Loser

4.Beat It on Down the Line

5.West L.A. Fadeaway

6.When I Paint My Masterpiece

7.Far From Me

8.Tennessee Jed

9.Hell in a Bucket

10.Samson and Delilah

11.Hey Pocky Way

12.Estimated Prophet

13.Eyes of the World

14.Drums

15.The Wheel

16.Gimme Some Lovin' - (The Spencer Davis Group cover)

17.Stella Blue

18.Throwing Stones

19.Turn On Your Love Light

Encore:

20.Knockin' On Heaven's Door

(Bob Dylan cover)

If I Had a Million Dollars

I asked Steph what she'd do with a million dollars.  I'd build a tree fort in our yard.  But this is what she'd do...

I’m not sure what I’d do with $1,000,000.  It’s not really all that much now a days.  Probably I’d be boring and pay off my debts, move into a smaller place, and then invest the money conservatively.

If I didn’t have a house or car payment, then the 5% interest on a million per year ($50,000) would be nice. If I could write and sell books, and Greg could sell music – we could be semi-retired.  It would be fun.