Page 1 of The Osopher's Tale




  Optimism: I have all the fanny that I could ever need

 

  The osopher’s tale

  Once upon a wondrous time, there lived the master of them all. Her name was Ann and she was the measure of all things; the roots of a tree, vegetables born out of the ground and the stars in the night sky could all find a home within her.

  Misogynists of history have distorted this true tale, but when considered carefully, only a woman posing as god can give birth to man.

  And so it was, and still is, ann who is the master of them all; the walking doppelganger of life.

 

  Ann

  The planet was in a hot dense state,

  Then expansion started. Wait…

  Aqua began to cool, autotrophs began to drool.

  She developed tools, she built walls, she built the pyramids

  Math, science, history, unravelling the mystery that all started with:

  The big ann.

  She lay in a freshly trimmed meadow like a tiger in the savannah. She sensed something coming, heard the din and buzz of the cosmos; was able to hear them, mainly due to her godly form of incarnation. The human body and all its facets. Masters of the planet. Anthropocene – the human age… and sure enough 10 seconds later arrived a butterfly, resting itself on top of a flowering bud.

  I know it’s easy to imagine, but it’s easier to just do. See, if you can’t do what you imagine, then what is imagination to you? Just a waste of space in your brain, to take the place of idleness, or things all the same.

  Inside ann, there was everything that we perceive to be outside. The sun, the light, all colours. The shapes of objects and the distance between these objects. Light is an element that we carry inside us which can grow there with as much abundance, variety and intensity as it can outside us. Ann is able to light herself – there is a light inside of her so alive, so large. It is neither religious, intellectual or sentimental, it is quite simply alive.

  Ann herself is the osopher’s stone, having been made diamond-like when her spirit and body united through the mind. She is the incarnated principle of mind as an animal is of emotion. She stands with one foot in the heavens and the other on the ground. Her higher being is lifted to celestial heights, but she is also tied to matter. The hard knocks of a long life chip away at this osopher’s stone and facet it until it reflects light from a million different angles.

 

  Ann was in need of some company; the planet was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep.

  Companions the creator seeks, not corpses, and not herds or believers either. Fellow the creators the creator seeks, those who put new values on new tables.

  There was work to be done and the building for Ann started here.

  Containing within herself all the elements required for life, Ann set about the process of creating these first companions.

  In the beginning, Ann created what would turn out to be 11 companions: Miss, Kai, Gaz, Fizz, Phob, Pan, Phil, Si, Gee, Demi and Jim.

  Ann now had her busy-bodies that she could rely on to maintain the balance of Hutopia.

  With a short introductory speech outlining their objectives and how to achieve these, the story would be able to get underway:

  (Ann to her 11 children): ‘’I do not give out sympathy. Every human must use their simple feet. You are here, incarnate, to follow your intuition. Believe in it. So long as you can satisfy me that the changes will be for the good, I shall not stand in your way. Indeed, I think that you will find me reasonable in our dealings. We have in front of our very eyes a unique opportunity, a blank canvas to create a sustainable hutopia, and each of you has a part to play in this. Please listen attentively now. Your individual subject lives by the grace of thinking. Thinking is entirely due to your own activity. It shall not appear unless you yourself produce it. Let me provide a couple of crude examples. Farting. If stood in a densely-populated public space, and your bowels begin to flutter, then the natural bodily reaction would be to discharge. Only by the grace of thinking do you control this urge and subsequently deploy in a less cluttered environment. This supplies a motive to your actions. Through introspective observation, you can become conscious of these motives. This is where the freedom that I bless to you comes from. Example number 2. Looking into a window on a train. You can either see through it and into the world outside, or you can see your own reflection. Thought makes this choice. Freedom arises most clearly when a human becomes active in pure, individualised thinking. This is known as spiritual activity. Achieving freedom is then accomplished by learning to let an even larger portion of one’s actions be determined by such individualised thought, rather than by habit, addiction, reflex or involuntary or unconscious motives. There is no need to distinguish between the knower and the doer. You are the knowing doer. Act like the clever archers who, desiring to hit the mark which yet appears too far distant, and knowing the limits to which the strength of their bow attains, take aim much higher than the mark, not to reach by their strength or arrow to so great a height, but to be able with the aid of so high an aim to hit the mark they wish to reach. If you want nothing to be beyond your genius, then nothing must be beyond your hopes. Little by little, the soul assumes the size of the subjects that they occupy and thus great events make great humans. You must turn what you see in your mind’s eye into a physical reality. This is the goal of all human endeavours. The only obligation which you have a right to assume is to do at any time what you think right. Go forth now and create. Peace and love.’’.

  After consulting with both fizz and gee, ann decided to name the planet ‘planet aqua’, paying tribute to the influence that water has on the human body, the ecosystem and its ability to thrive, and also for the visual evidence that there is more water than land.

  The realms of Ann’s life are many. For each one, special sciences developed. Ann would not demand devout exercises and rigorous habits as preparation for these sciences for the inhabitants of Aqua, though, but she does require the willingness to withdraw oneself for a while from the immediate impressions of life and to take oneself into the realm of pure thought. Life is a unity, and the more deeply that sciences try to penetrate into their separate realms, the more they withdraw themselves from the world as a living whole. We are all singular in this, Ann’s journey. Do not consider it a coincidence that the word ‘human’ ends in ‘an’. We are the collective religion of human. There are no temples, no altars, no rites and we should be committed to the purely intellectual worship of mind and to duties of morality. This is Fizz’s and Ann’s divine law.

  Action will be good if intuition is steeped in love and finds it’s right place in the world. If not, and it sits uneasy, then this is bad. Do not ask how another person would act in such circumstances, but act as you find that you have occasion to do so. In hutopia, there is no general maxim applying to all, no moral standard; except your love for the deed. Ann feels no compulsion; neither the compulsion of fizz which guide her instincts, nor the compulsion of moral commandments; she simply carries out what lies within her.

  Ann established this world out of a desire that came from within to do so. She compared the quantity of pain and effort in making and sustaining this Hutopia not with the quantity of pleasure but with the intensity of desire. For example, if someone takes great delight in eating, they will by reason of their enjoyment in better times, find it easier to bear a period of hunger than will someone for whom eating is of no pleasure. If you are a passionate admirer of beautiful views, then you never calculate the amount of pleasure which the view from the mountain top would give you as compared directly with the pain of the toilsome ascent; you instead reflect whether after overcoming all difficulties, your de
sire for the view will still be sufficiently intense. In essence, Ann’s will for the pleasure of companionship was strong enough to overcome any pain that may subsequently occur.

  It is easy to speak of pain occurring, though it may be miniscule for one as supreme as ann, as misfortune is something tangible. There is a subject and object involved. Through memories, it is easy to describe catastrophes as they happened; but happiness, found solely in the mind, cannot be explained.

  Also relating to memory, Ann recommends that humans should carry out a chronologically-reversed review of the day’s events each evening. Exercises such as this intensify the will-forces, enabling humans to achieve a further stage of inner-independence from an otherwise sensory experience. The senses are not to be completely disregarded, though, as the warnings beneath the skin can sometimes be the real message that the mind needs to make a decision; there is no dictionary for these messages.

  Blessed with the grace of thinking, ann was apt at using foresight, and she was able to understand and introduce the concept of ‘benefits’. This involves taking off layers of clothing when entering a warm building so that you can feel the benefit of putting them back on when you go outside again.

  Ann, being able to control her mind and make it silent in a state of meditation when necessary, enabling her to tune her attention to listen to the eternal Om, which can be heard if you cup your hand to your ear, is able to interpret how synchronistic events are a pointer to show that she is on the correct path with regard to the development of this new Hutopia. She is the master of this new destiny that she has chosen to follow.

  The following scribbles are what ann likes to refer to as ‘my gemoirs’. So much does get missed and forgotten, though; time with its fine sandpaper. Yet being like water flowing through a river, ann has learnt to accept the passing of time and the events held within.

 

  Ann Throposopher

  The wisdom of humans

  Miss

  Behold, the believers of all beliefs. Whom do they hate most? She who breaks up their tables of values, the breaker, the law-breaker – she, however, is the creator.

  Why would ann see fit to introduce hatred into her hutopia? Well, because people need comparison to affirm that they are doing the right thing. How could there now be hate? How could we display and understand the pure essence of where this story is ultimately heading with seeing an anti-way? Utopia describes a future, coherent culture that we hope shall manifest; hutopia has long been upon us.

  Miss was sat in the cold gardens of Hyde Park, London. It wasn’t cold when she arrived, glorious sunshine in fact, but the sun had wandered behind a large sycamore tree and out of sight. If Miss had her way with fizz, no tree would be allowed to grow taller than 7 feet. She hated the size of them. Anyhting taller than a human, she thought, must be bad news.

  Her hands were getting colder as she sat down writing. ‘My Daily Death list’ could be seen as the heading at the top of the paper.

  Number 1 was rex w. tillerson, ceo of exxon mobil. Why? Well, plastic litter of course. With biodegradable resources such as hemp in high abundance, what sane human would want to plumish the finite resources of the planet, let alone be content to then see plastic litter rattling around? Fizz had once said that oil is the blood flowing through the veins of planet aqua. Strangely enough, Miss was on the side of fizz on this one.

  Her hands got colder as the list grew longer. Obviously, being one of the original 11, Miss didn’t have to be here, she could have been anywhere. But she was here to meet someone, an ex-lover who she hated to love; knowing that it was like a baron apple tree – fruitless.

  She could attend all of the sadistic, masonic orgies and sacrifices that she desired but that was never enough to satisfy her lust. This was why she wrote the daily death list, to remind herself that there were so many things that she hated and consequently hard, if not impossible, to find her perfect love.

  She sat with her eyes closed, meditating; shaking from the cold. A passer-by thought that she was in a trance.

  Miss was disturbed from this state by a shrieking, piercing noise that she hated more than most. There it goes again. The police siren. The impending tone of fear and imminent doom. The ambulance was just as bad. Only Demi, Miss thought, was capable of such an invasion of privacy. Only Demi would put such a noise on a health-mobile, giving the despairing patient inside yet another heart-attack.

  The reason for such sirens being necessary was linked in with the previous 2 hates: traffic jams and the use of oil in cars. Why people did not choose to cycle more often confused Miss. She hated congestion, she hated pollution, and she hated the idea of a lump of metal hurtling towards her at 60MPH. She hated Demi.

  Eventually, Miss’ friend arrived and she hated the sight of him immediately; all of the resentment and mis-placed trust came rushing to the fore. Still, hugs were exchanged and they headed into the city to go about their business.

  The first thing to annoy Miss was the street lights, with the fluorescent orange glow feeling somewhat like an eye-sore and an intrusion of consciousness. Miss would have much preferred some natural, white light that had less of an impact on the seat of the soul, the pineal gland, and also on light pollution.

  After wandering the streets of London for some time, with head tilted upwards 70% of the time – Miss hated eye-contact with the often-judgemental Demi – they reached a pub called Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese and there decided to perch their bottoms. Now, even though Miss hated alcohol – ‘anything that thins the blood can’t be good’ was a mantra of hers – she did quite enjoy all of the passing gossip that could be heard.

  One such soundwave that entered into her ears was coming from the direction of a man proclaiming to be called josh and hailing from Derbyshire.

  Of all of Demi’s creations, capitalism was the one that miss hated most. This was the spawn of intrusive conglomerate corporations; those that pursue paper profit over societal needs.

  Josh was telling the story of how he works as a data engineer for companies such as Debenhams and PC World.

  His most recent assignment had been to install wifi tracking devices in these stores that tracked customer movement without their knowledge or consent. Relating to their location within the store, adverts would then appear on nearby tv screens offering discount deals on products in the vicinity. Josh was also saying how he’d installed infra-red scanners to determine the age of the shopper so that these adverts could be appropriately targeted.

  Miss detested what she was hearing because this went against the fundamental principle of hutopia, which is of course choice. Knowing just how easy it is to influence the sub-conscious of humans, these corporations are restricting humans to a narrow field of products, with no scope for cheaper, longer-lasting alternatives.

  Hearing this kick-started Miss into a deep day-dream, eventually leading to a deeply pondered thought on how language affects the human psyche.

  Please bear in mind, now, that we are far into the consciousness of Miss, so stick with me.

  Words are spells, hence spelling. Once they are combined, you have been sentenced. We have noses that run and feet that smell. The mundane weekdays keep us in a weak daze, until we are weakened that we barely make it to the weekend. Each day we routinely awake in the morning; or is the Monday morning ritual conversely conversing a mourning at a wake for the dead?

  Toxic chemicals wafted, floated, danced through the air: cigarette smoke. One of miss’ deepest hates. Why would you want to die any quicker? This was enough to disturb miss from her hate-trance and back into the present. Her ex-lover was sat rigid like a zombie.

  2 nuns driving past in a fiat punto signalled that thus comedy of errors had gone on for long enough and that it was time to leave.

  Readers may have thought that miss was going to be hate personified, but that was an easy judgement to assume. What, however, miss has demonstrated is that hate can be as a passion for change in order to right the wrongs
in this world. There is a sense that philosophy is in truth misosophy. We should understand that hate is not something that is innate to certain people and void in others. Every human has the capacity to love and hate, once we realise this, we can see that there are always reasons, whether they are valid or not, for every human behaviour. When you divide people into moral planes, that becomes very dangerous; if you believe that hate is external, and not a struggle inside ourselves, then it becomes a short step to eradicating whole groups of human beings because they are no longer human,. They are abstractions of hate that you want to get rid of.

  Miss osopher

  The wisdom of hatred.

  Kai

  Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone’s hand is the beginning of a journey. Sometimes, it is allowing another to take yours.