The GUTS --
the Grand Unified Theory
post-Einsteinians are looking for
is so self evident
it can't be found.
BB =   Big Bang
C   =   Consciousness
G  =   Gluons
L   =   Leptons
Q  =  Quarks
Stated another way:
BB (or C) = G (or G + EM + WF + SF) + M (or L + Q)
The Big Bang (or Consciousness)
this says, equals Gluons plus Matter.
Gluon is a term for the four forces:
The Electromagnetic Force
The Weak Force
The Strong Force --
i.e., the four "glues."
Matter is made up of Leptons and Quarks.
Leptons are light particles.
What's not a Lepton is a hadron:
medium and heavy particles (mesons
and baryons) all made of five
(or six) bound Quarks.
That's what the physicists say:
Six bits of imagination, and six
(or five) bits within bits make up the world.
In the beginning was the Big Bang.
The Big Bang was Consciousness (a super-
luminal, trachyon world): conceiving,
manifesting, combining, recombining,
Consciousness, the equation says, is
equivalent to all there is: Gluons,
Leptons, Quarks (flavored: up, down,
strange, charmed, truth, beauty and ?).
("Up, down, strange, charmed, bottom, top,"
says Hawking, "each flavor coming in three colors:
red, green and blue.")
The physicists, like everyone else, know
that there is nothing until you look for it.
What you see is a function of who looks --
how. Beyond the sixth Quark, the only
thing that needs definition (now) is
the seeing instrument (us): Consciousness,
which they, the physicists, have never dared
What is not made conscious is not.
What is made conscious is.
Or if they want to continue for awhile
in the direction they're used to going,
they'll find a substructure to the Quarks,
and define those and yet another substructure
and another, until Consciousness,
absolutely unavoidably (which obliges
by supplying anything you seek) will finally present
itself as the only necessity, to these semi-conscious
But there's already plenty of research around.
Buddha can tell them, or the Tibetan
or the Hindu, who've scientifically
probed Consciousness for 10,000 years.
Mankind has never been without interest
in his creation of the world. Realizing
it is Consciousness and he is part of
Consciousness is an insight attained
some time ago.
When we stop throwing data from a different science
away with both hands and study what has been done,
physicists will be surprised to see how far along the path
we already are.
The universe is now open.
We carry the potential to close it.
We'd better be careful.
Scientists are looking for the missing mass:
other universes like our own
which we cannot see
because our vision is skewed toward
making human beings, trees, mountains,
railroad trains, cars and one-hundred-two
story building out of L+G+Q.
But the C doing it is the same.
The universe is C.
We simply can't see part of it,
like we can't see an Electron, or a Proton,
or a Quark.
If we found some way to see them,
we could see into other universes,
which is exactly what the Eastern Mystics,
and some of the Western one's, too, do,
did long ago and even today.
Given pure consciousnes
you can see their equivalent of trees
and mountains and beings and busses
running up and down whatever
they might have thought of for roads.
How are we closing the universe?
By making things.
When the universe reaches a critical
mass, it will begin to contract.
Does the neutrino have weight?
Can we violate the laws of conservation
and actually create matter?
Look at us on the reality level: we have
filled the world with so many things, things
that used to be thoughts, that we are inevitably
preparing for ourelves a holocaust, probably nuclear.
A holocaust to rid us of too many things, too many
material manifestations of Consciousness
which overburdens the universe.
In the same way, playing with high energy physics,
we are slowly creating enough particles:
Leptons, Quarks, Gluons -- to reach a critical mass
where we will begin to contract.
We are consciousness, the creative matter
in the universe, here to fulfill that task
as we choose.
Will we stop in time?
Will we stop creating so we can go on expanding?
Or will we choose to go on creating and bring about
our own contraction? Some would say doom.
But it need not be so.
Nuclear holocaust is a way of stabilizing the universe.
Consciousness will pull back to the BB
But then, as the Hindu's say, it will expand again.
Except you and me in our present form.
Take everything in the world, put it in a heap,
let each choose what they need, what they want.
Burn the rest.
If you're wise, you'll choose only
Consciousness and a little food,
or perhaps just Consciousness.
Even food is too much of a burden.
Let the rest go so that we particles, all of us,
Leptons, hadrons, Gluons, may go on
dancing the dance of miracles
the dance of Shiva
Wiggling and giggling
throughout the known universe
Pure thoughts (Consciousness) will keep the Universe
V -- ENVOI
It is interesting to think through and redo this poem
from 7-18-84 now on 12-2-90
(just ten years -- 12-02-80 -- exactly since I met Baba
and said "Help me change my life."
And he said, "You change your life,
you know how to change your life,
you change your life.")
when I have just got rid of my things,
my thirty-one boxes of burden,
when I am now feeling like a clean porcelain tube,
life beginning to flow through it, me,
like it hasn't in years.
I guess I had about reached critical mass.
Inside the scar is a flame of God, flickering
steadily, illumination blue as the tulip, bright
as sunset sea clouds, trying each thing, testing worlds,
working ways through imagination, playfully
ploughing the possible without anxiety or care,
reveling in the love of God. God is the flame
and the flicker, the blue and the tulip, the sun,
the color and the cloud, the wound, the blood and the healing,
the drug addicted and woeful represented
to eyes not trained in seeing God, who fear death as
if it were other than a little bang realigning
the sporting molecules, their neutrinos, hadrons
With snow on the lawn,
glittering in the winter sun
on the winter grass,
we spent our time hunting for puzzles
in a Pennsylvania town,
not agreeing to note we had enough
of a puzzle on our hands already.
Maybe we should have known better
in that town of one concrete street.
Maybe we should have stopped --
I should have stopped
marching up and down that street
in my high-heeled, suede,
fuchsia boots, laughing.
Maybe I should have known
bringing home that boxed puzzle
would only be to avoid the quiet,
the solitude, looking at other suns
on other winter grass, watching
the crystal drops melt off the eaves,
revisiting the maybes I should have known
then. With sun
on the snow, and determination in my heart,
I ignored the signs of the times that said No --
neither the puzzle in the box nor the puzzle
in my heart would be resolved by laughing
or suede boots, or pretending delight, pretending
extraordinary delight while you fuzzed out drinking
and doping. I was supposed to be politely puzzled,
sweet, and let you do as you wished.
We were artists in the wilderness, we said.
Maybe I should have known, but I didn't.
I laughed in winter, sought out puzzles,
and woke again in orange sunshine
with the crystals dropping from the roof,
loving and realizing there is no way to avoid
one's path, one's decisions of which puzzles
to buy and which puzzles to work
and which to pass along with the buck.
INTRODUCTION + POETRY + MUSIC + ESSAYS + TRAVEL + FICTION + TEXTILE ART