The approaching birth of a baby, the reaffirmation and continuity of life is a time filled with anticipation, trepidation and preparation. The room is ready, the walls have been decorated with wall paper inspired with Disney characters. The crib, presumably tested by the FDA for dangers or hazards will be in its special spot.

When the blessed event finally arrives, your bag is ready for the hospital stay. Among your personal effects is  “The Zaky Infant Pillow“. It’s specially designed as two disembodied hands that will provide your baby with security especially when you scent it with your special smell that will comfort the little one. Helpful when you need a break, feeling confident that you can have a long deep sleep while your child is well positioned or left with your parents for the night. “The unscented, hypo-allergenic Zaky is made with 100% anti-piling extra-soft micro fleece and micro bacterial filling and is inert to fluids. The lining is 100% polyester. It has reinforced seams and is fully washable without dis-assembly. Machine washable in warm water. Air or tumble dry on low.”

Originally designed for premature babies in neo-natal units, it is an “ergonomic pillow to provide your angel with comfort, security, support and nurturing especially when scented.” Although exactly how the Zaky is imbued with your smell is unclear. Many species mark their territory using body fluids. A reasonable premise since a large component of amniotic fluid is made up of urea. Perhaps each parent planning to use a Zaky pillow should diplomatically discuss how best to accomplish this with their child’s pediatrician along with all safety precautions.

Perhaps the pillow was inspired by Naomi Theillier de Poncheville who created “Hand-le“, the doorknob shaped as a human hand. Pregnancystore.com is no longer processing new orders at 49.95 for each hand, it’s a reasonable assumption that the Japanese will probably improve on the design possibly with movable fingers.

My Percepto Rating: 5

5- “I’m in” if it works
4- “You’re in” if it works
3- Hey, it was good enough for Uncle fester.
2- Receives a Thumb Up from Thing, so aptly portrayed by Thing T. Thing
1- A “Grrrrrrrr” from Lurch.

A crystal, whatever shape, is a physical symbol of a metaphysical view of existence, the point at which spirit (intangible) crystallizes into matter and is perceivable by the five senses. The capstone of two inverted pyramids joined, represent the center at which the metamorphosis occurs. Focusing on a crystal can clarify thoughts, perhaps to see what is already there, usually camouflaged within the clutter of daily life rather than in seeing the future.

Perhaps logic would be a better tool to explore the direction of trends and extrapolate effects by scientific means. Socrates, the Greek scholar/philosopher would probably say: “begin from that which is known, perceive what is, understand what was, and build the foundation of knowledge that determines what will be.” An empowerment regardless of where the conceptual argument between free will and predetermination lay.

It doesn’t take crystal gazing to see that Earth’s ecology is approaching an event horizon. Reports of climatic changes, once occasional, are now being reported daily. The only unknown factor is time and how much is left before the point of no return is reached. Even dismissing prognosticators like Nostradamus - a seer with an interesting but mysterious history who prophesied significance for the year 2012 by suggesting the real potential for culmination from the accumulation of political and environmental effects - it doesn’t take much to sense that there isn’t as much time left as thought.

The potential for a catastrophic “biblical” event was actualized in the tsunami in the Indian Ocean on December 26, 2004 which killed hundreds of thousands of people within hours as it rippled through several continents. Assuming we have X number of years left on the current course, it would still take immediate and radical change to avert the trends towards planetary disaster. A cumulative result of the by-products generated from the industrial revolution dependent on oil.

The best solution is to find alternate sources of energy, not more fossil fuels which does nothing but reinforce the addiction. Denial only serves to get us closer to the event horizon without knowing if it has been reached, bestowing the problem to the next generation of leaders, forced to consider radical choices or maintain the status-quo as we get closer to prophecy, scientifically supported by the facts.

Thoughts to consider for the next election when standing in the voting booth, gazing at the choices, deciding to vote for change still relying on the illusion of experience and hoping that someone really knows what to do.

The words “I don’t know, what do you think?” are highly predictable for any psychoanalyst to articulate in order to circumvent a patient’s attempt to evoke an answer from their therapist, especially those working with clients who display a perplexing array of symptoms where avoidance and denial are part of the repertoire of a neurotic complex.

Unfortunately, the delusional world of transference and counter-transference, a common occurrence in the artificially created world of therapy, often confounding the original basis for why help is offered: to assist the patient to find the answers for themselves. Slowly unfolding the onion, layer by layer, based on the presumption that the core pathological pattern will reveal itself in a catharsis of self-understanding.

Reflecting about sequestered thought, at best difficult when influenced by the sway of emotional neurosis, ruminations usually relegated by patients convinced they are unimportant, when in fact they are the ideations most important to reveal. Perhaps a painful display of embarrassment suggesting personality is kept together with Krazy Glue: a drop here, there, keeping all the feelings stuck together in a dam of in-congruent clutter. The emotional disarray of the affliction causing one to seek out the aid of a therapist in the first place.

A notable expert who expounded the words “I don’t know, what do you think?”, by portraying her vast expertise in the world of the pathological, was Deeana Troi, Counselor of the USS Enterprise 1701-D. Classically trained in Psychoanalytic Theory, perhaps the School of Neo-Freudians who often claimed eclectic causes for pathological behavior, Counselor Troi held firmly to the notion that the joy in helping someone find themselves is the primary reward. She interpreted through an empathic sense, characteristic of her Betazoid heritage. The words “I don’t know, what do you think?” often frustrated those around her as she approached a sensitive subject, causing the crew to consider beaming her to a planet inhabited solely by Argelian Amoebas. The only advantage having her as a therapist was not paying $250 for a 45 minute session, since money was abolished in the Twenty Fourth Century.

I don’t know, What do you think?

For Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Psychoanalysis that You Never Knew To Ask - Follow this Link

Imagine going to a Japanese restaurant and immediately being given a warm wet cloth to clean your hands, suddenly focusing on how important hands truly are, holding on to potentially anything the world contains, including bacteria. A part of the self that instinctively touch the corporeal: handling, opening, closing, rotating, jerking, cajoling “things” to reveal secrets the brain interprets.

Ordering an array of sushi - various unmemorable raw fish, appetizingly presented on a platter with sweet intoxicating ginger and green mustard - sending waves of physical sensation through my sinus awaiting that first bite. Soy sauce, the Japanese cultural equivalent to Ketchup, prominently heads every table, next to a glass of Sapporo while Japanese music play softly in the background. Then, anticipating imminent appeasement of my appetite while reaching for the chop sticks, imagine my astonishment at finding only one. What a bewildering prospect!

“Perhaps a mistake has been made,” I thought.
“How could this be?”
“A bit curious, though it actually makes sense,” I rationalized, raising my glass confidently and declaring, “Bon Appetit!” then sipping Sapporo.
“But only if things come in ones.”
I agreed, smiling to my self sitting on the opposite side of the table comfortably eating sushi using one chopstick.

for more info:
Dealing With Resistant Strain Bacteria
How To Handle Your Meat
How To Handle Your Thing(a)

Science speculates about what exists based on facts it uncovers, a heritage solidified on testing the reproducibility of what it now accepts as scientific truth, defining reliability.

Philosophy constructs lines of reasoning, predicated by language, the structure of thoughts as they process corporeality by asking questions about relationships between what is known and what is not - part of the void defined as the unknown that resonates and effects every condition permeating culture including religion and ethics.

Self and conscious awareness in their most primal level are usually understood as divisions (separations) from everything else, the external world. From a human perspective, what happens in the world effects individual perception by precipitating interpretations of experiences, motivating idea patterns. Common events affect cultural aspirations as well as fears. Eventually, the unknown is seen as uncontrollable uncertainty, or perhaps an opportunity for growth from learning something new.

It is also sensed as an inevitable struggle on its most basic philosophic level, present to varying degrees in any condition. Some individuals have experiences that pierce other levels, bringing back an epiphany, a divine revelation, and foundation of religious belief. A basis also for invention by tapping into the stream of ideas that form principles of potentiality.

Perhaps the question of the meaning of life - existence, origin, purpose, nature, value, and reason - may never be comprehended in its totality from a physical perspective. Yet everyone has the capacity for Epiphany. Whether it is based is spirituality, science or philosophy is less important than its ability to convey another dimension connected to the one we already inhabit and the ability to retain its memory.

The Conflict Of Science And Religion

Thinking Through Assumption

On Originality

The sturdy wood table at the side of the bed had been left with the remains of dejeuner. A pot with streaks of coffee and the crumbled flakes of croissants. The tray filled with raspberry jam, peanut butter, honey and cream cheese. Things to awaken the taste buds after a night marked by the heat of passion at l’Hotel du Centre de Paris, ville d’amour. The fabled Arc De Triomphe on the Champs-Elysees, seen through the open french doors leading to the terrace overlooking the city streets as it resonated with echoes of a warm breeze that entered the room, ruffling the white curtains as they responded to the call of the wind. The sheets, stained yellow and magenta with “butter and raspberry delight” accidentally dropped, reflecting the ripples of sensation as taste imagination is left to be envisioned.

We had arrived on Valentine’s Day. It was a Mac Donald’s meal the first night - Le beau Mac, des pommes frites, and Pepsi light. Then a stroll through the streets of Paris, the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, les Jardins de Tullery, the Louvres and the Pompidou Centre. Suddenly, by pure chance, we came upon a small curiosity shop on one of the side streets. In its window I noticed the Instant Messaging toaster, an ingenious way to ask my paramour “Will You?” etched on toast. All this made possible by an original concept brought to the world by Yanko Design’s Sasha Tseng. “It’s a toaster featuring a message board on top with a stylus to write whatever you want. Pop in your bread and when it’s done, voila, the message will appear on the lightly browned toast.”

However, Paris is not a place where one goes to the supermarket to get a loaf of Wonder Bread, a croissant being so much more appropriate. So I went to the Patisserie and bought several to take back to l’Hotel with my newly purchased Instant Messaging Toaster. Then I realized the puffy croissant won’t fit! I needed to press it flat to stick it in the toaster. Hands unwashed, I decided to use the book on the table. Pressing it down on the delicate pastry, I lifted my hand and exclaimed “OMG!” shamefully realizing that it was the French version of The Holy Bible. What have I done, I thought, reflecting that there is nothing more unromantic then a dose of guilt. If I’m turned down I will know why. But then I chuckled. Oh well, since I didn’t know French, I will probably be forgiven my transgression.

If only Marie Antoinette had said, “Let them eat croissants with raspberry jam, peanut butter, honey or cream cheese”, perhaps she would have been spared the guillotines‘ blade.

I Was A Prisioner Of Pasta Primivera In Paris, France

I woke up early for the anticipated trip below Canal Street to answer the summons I had received two months earlier; a pink slip, energetically written by an officer of the law looking to fill his book of tickets. A stout figure in uniform with a belly that hung over his belt revealing a small holstered gun. Perhaps lack of exercise and abundance of carbohydrates so prevalent in American diets led to an appearance more appropriate for the WWE (World Wrestling Entertainment).

My only trespass being that I was in the wrong place at the right time for the police officer to write a summons, I wondered whether justice would have better been served had he payed attention to serious crime, instead of meeting his monthly quota?

After entering the lobby of the time worn building at 346 Broadway and passing through the metal detectors, I went up a large staircase and into the registration room, right to the end of a line of 100 people or more, reminiscent of those long Post Office lines right around lunch time. As the line moved, I finally reached the window attendant where the summons ticket is stamped and replaced with a ticket to Trial Room # 2.

The #2 Room: large and rectangular with benches and a judge’s desk. The color of the walls, indescribable as there is no frame of reference to compare except that it was institutionally dull. The judge, a man who must have been in his early nineties, a life dedicated to prosecution and defense, now retired, devoting time to ease the volume of increased ticketing. A female officer looking like Sarah Jessica Parker in uniform on a bad hair day, disgruntled disposition and some miscellaneous officers who repeated to each name called: “do you speak English?” followed by the announced infraction. The look of boredom filled the air, not unlike a subway car during rush hour. Everyone with a blank expression, avoiding eye contact by looking at the ads on a subway car wall, traveling on their way to work.

The fines, mostly $20-$100 for those few cases that were not dismissed, a reasonable judgment since the initial summons cited were nothing more than fillers for the officers to meet their monthly quota.

Perhaps it depends on what one considers the “unperceived” when it becomes perceived. Classifying it based on past observations and well thought out assumptions.

Time subjects everyone to new experiences that can be absorbed selectively or ignored, usually steeped in repetition with a camouflaged clutter of unimportant facts.

A distraction at best, the task presumably is to see forest and trees with telescopic vision or microscopic precision, depending on circumstance.

When palpable, it’s a question of forging what is “felt” into something conceivable, limited only by the boundary of the physical sense or the constraints of imagination.

A tangible existence made possible by action or invention, concreting what was formally unperceived, while acknowledging it’s “being”, infinitely.

Thinking Through Assumption

The Un-Perceived