Equity Release

The price of any finite resource uncapped will tend towards infinite, the price of any infinite resource will tend towards zero. And all extending tautologies in like proportion. We find the Sun currently charges us £0 per unit of energy. This is surely a disastrous price, leaving God no taxable income to pay His telepathy bill. But maybe He has hedged His shares.

The corporation that is a Lily, on closer consideration, toils under the Sun unto Death, and has done so ever since being new. It is taxed at every step of entropy, to be redistributed in wider society, of which it has been suggested there is no such thing.

Sellers prefer high prices, buyers prefer low prices - we can but wonder why - but all agree such fuel is ultimately best placed in large overground bunkers known as property, to remain unused, as recommended by any misreading of the parable of the talents.

To pay for land once, - when it is already there - is absurd, to pay for it infinitely begs forgiveness beyond humanity. Perhaps this money could be better spent, without the Earth vanishing. But what profit a man if he loses the whole world? Perhaps, if not paid for infinitely, all houses would instantly fall down, like the walls of Jericho, as play those with the loudest trumpets. We need not dance like rats to this fantasy Pied Piper.

Fleas who have successfully hallucinated they own the dog, by divine right of ancestry, and not a little wrath when questioned, require the backing of force when childish superstition alone will not suffice. The shorthand of the law has proved effective, and all the world's their stage as long as we each play our scripted part.

The free flow of capital across borders renders the concept of a country subject to fluctuation, and open to economic blackmail so long as it is smaller than all the other countries in the world combined. Lines drawn in the sandpit of humanity prove chimeric as the illusory line between public/private, albeit fun for football, both with and without guns.

Equity release is most simply effected by a cap on private wealth. Earth and Sun is - near enough - a closed system, and capital can not yet fly very far into space. Maximum wealth is so capped by Physics. Individuals successfully imagining themselves against being subject to such a cap, have not noticed they already are, and might find it impractical to move to a Martian tax haven. Landlords may find it difficult to leave, and 'take their geography with them'. There is no need to remain subject to such revealing threats. The lower the cap, the greater the automatic redistribution. History tells us automatic is preferable to human whim. Evolution tells us the algorithm required can fit in the brain of an ant. Ants weigh more than humans, if you add them all together. This could be said to be a successful economic model, achieved some billion years ago. Perhaps things are clearer without emotion.

Evolution is gene economics, and we have our model perfectly 1:1 with reality, iterated over billions of years. It remains inherently unpredictable, as determinism contains freedoms unrealised by Calvin, but what happened is a matter of record. One need only read the book of life. We can know where the wealth has accumulated. Greater equality, via redistribution is better, by all inter-subjective consensus definitions of better. First there was the word. We are merely extending tautologies of a circular truism, against which therefore, there can be no coherent argument.

Centrally planned haircuts look immediately awful. Free market haircuts, a decade later. So be it with fashionable economic theory. There have been no wealth creators. Wealth creation would require supernatural ability. Meta-wealth creation is greatest via technology, of which intellectual property is invalid, since none can claim authorship of their brain. Let this equity be released also.

The final circular truism is that human law is written by humans. Thus it may be written better. 'Thou shalt not steal', and 'thou shalt not covet' were lines commissioned by persons of property. Today it is written 'the politics of envy'. Such scribes were ever for hire. Break the spell, and Justice may be written.

All humans immigrate into the world, as economic migrants from the womb, and promptly seek asylum at the nearest breast. Imprinted as the ugly duckling, both symbiosis and parasitism sound the same, and swans a fairy-tale for quacks. Yet all shall write the future, knowingly or not, the script is not yet written. Increasing economic apartheid continues the most shameful chapter in the book of humanity. Yet all that binds us, and all that is required to set us free, ultimately, are mere ideograms on a slice of a tree. Noticing this fact is worth - literally - all the money in the world.

Eurodisney II

Pierre has 5 europounds and 10 europounds worth of Camembert.
Peter has 10 europounds and 5 europounds worth of Cheddar.

Pierre sells his Camembert to Peter for 10 europounds.
Peter sells his Cheddar to Pierre for 5 europounds.

Pierre had 15 europounds of money and goods.
Peter had 15 europounds of money and goods.

Pierre now has 15 europounds of money and goods.
Peter now has 15 europounds of money and goods.

All perfectly balanced.

But wait!

Peter's imported goods = 10 europounds.
Peter's exported goods = 5 europounds.

Peter now has a 'balance of trade deficit' of 5 europounds!

Fifty shades of God

Voice:- Three best-sellers. Three best-sellers, Gabriel! If you only count to three. Beat that! What's the figures on Mao? -

Gabriel:- Sir, I don't think one can compare apples with oranges -

Voice:- Why on Earth not?! I once fucked a fig tree you know -

Gabriel:- Yes, and most impressively I thought. An exquisitely rational restrained correction of -

Voice:- Cut the arse-licking, fairy-wings! I haven't got one. And neither has the Queen of England. The only King of Kings who ever shat was Elvis, and on a toilet, of all places. Imagine that! His greatest shit! -

Gabriel:- I am almost disembodied by your divine wit, Sir -

Voice:- Fuck! This nectar's rocket fuel! A few more and I'll see myself. Zeus! there's come ichor in my nectar! Anyway, how's it going down there? -

Gabriel:- Which one, Sir? -

Voice:- You know, the blue one. Still backward? -

Gabriel:- Wel, number 6, - when it's not being number 7, or number 5, - is proving a little problematic -

Voice:- What one was that? -

Gabriel:- Oh you know, that 'Thou shalt not kill' one -

Voice:- Hmmm...perhaps too cryptic -

Gabriel:- Indeed, your trajesty, and of course hypocrisy cannot invalidate an argument or -

Voice:- Hypocrisy should not apply to me! I like it! Well done Gabriel, have some harp wax. How are the other ones going? The how super I am ones? -

Gabriel:- Oh terribly well Sir, most terribly well. Everyone agrees you are most terribly super, and that it couldn't have been put in a sentence, unless you were Key Stage 1 at writing. And almost no-one is questioning your use of ghost-writers for the manual. s. -

Voice:- Wel, I can't be expected to do everything can I? What am I? Omnipotent?! Christ! I'm on form this aeon -

Gabriel:- Sir, that must remain, I feel, an in-joke -

Voice:- Bullet points! Bullet points Gabriel, get with the times. Besides, I like certain numbers for some reason. Perhaps I've got ten invisible fingers - I wouldn't know - I can't see them! -

Gabriel:- You can feel them Sir, and in your exquisite works -

Voice:- Don't give me that feelogian horseshit, Gabriel. I was joking. I know fucking everything! -

Gabriel:- er...that one's omniscient -

Voice:- What's that? fucking latin! I'll give you fucking latin! It's all the same to me. Incubus, Succubus, Fuckyoubus! That's fucking writing, Gabriel! All in their heads in three fucking words! - Take that E L fucking James! -

Gabriel:- Bless you. And may I say you are looking most animated Sir, on reflection, perhaps -

Voice:- Homunculus! That's another one. I just can't stop! Anyway, I thought we got the bastard-language spouters to -

Gabriel:- Feed them to lions. Yes Sir, a masterstroke -

Voice:- Wel, how did that go? I bet I telt them then -

Gabriel:- Felix veritas indeed! It made them much more convinced -

Voice:- Convinced of what? -

Gabriel:- That you were on their side -

Voice:- Me in Himmel!!! Transcendent of Time, it makes me wonder back-forward if killing six million of the fuckers wouldn't wake them up! -

Gabriel:- They remain Sir, amongst your greatest fans. And most keen to see you -

Voice:- Fucking toadying wall-wailers! Do they think a fucking wall impresses me?! -

Gabriel:- They do have silly hair, Sir -

Voice:- Oh yes hair. And hats. And dressing up. What was that thing I made again Gabriel? Remind me -

Gabriel:- The parasite that eats through -

Voice:- The fucking universe! I made the fucking universe! Did I mention that? Ever? I should have written that down -

Gabriel:- Writing's not as easy as it looks -

Voice:- It looks fucking easy to me! Especially with word-processors. Billions of word-processors. Oooh! that's a point! What's in my inbox? Off the ninternet what I hadn't thought of? -

Gabriel:- Sir, there is a voicemale from a paedophile on a magic horse -

Voice:- Delete it! I'm not paying my fucking license fee for that! I can watch it all for free anyway -

Gabriel:- He's asking if he can marry a nine year old -

Voice:- He's what?! -

Gabriel:- He's asking if he can marry a nine year old. And have some raisins if he blows himself up -

Voice:- Raisins?! Are you sure it's been proof-read? Fucking raisins?! Tell him to cut his fucking cock! -

Gabriel:- Sir I'm not sure your sense of humour is always appreciated in the manner -

Voice:- Tell him to cut his fucking cock! -

Gabriel:- Very amusing Sir -

Voice:-  No, tell him! And....to pray to Mecca four....no wait! five times a day. That should shut the fucker up! -

Gabriel:- Most diverting, Sir. But.....on a sphere?! How might one face Mecca from say -

Voice:- Tell him the world's flat! Tell him to cut off fucking clitorises for all I care! I haven't got Time for this fuckwitted -

Gabriel:- Sir, there is a limit to what they'll swallow -

Voice:- I'm the limit! I'm the fucking limit! I made it all up and I can do what I fucking like! Just watch me -

Gabriel:- Forgive me, but this is looking like another tragically pathethic sado-masochistic half-assed banged-out cheap thrill sequel. No-one's going to buy -

Voice:- Hell Sells! Christ! you're naive. Have you seen the accounts?! Forget for a moment I'm infinitely magic, and you'll see how much money I need. I should set up a fucking charity! Hang on, let me lift the scales from your eyes.... -

Gabriel:- Good God! Look at the deficit! It's trillions! -

Voice:- Quite right Gabriel! I'm glad you're clever enough to see it. Emperor's clothes-style. Yes, the Earth has run up a most terrible deficit. It's most terribly in debt. To itself. Via some kind of Time-transcendent future-backward fuckwitted horseshit peddled by bigger bluffers than me. Only austerity will save it! -

Gabriel:- Not infanticide this time then, Sir -

Voice:- Don't get clever with me, you gibbering harp-licker! You're the one hearing fucking voices! -

Gabriel:- A cheap shot I feel, Sir, statistically -

Voice:-  Oh yes statistics! Yes, you know just how to get to me! -

Gabriel:- Lol! - Soz! - I was imagining language evolution. Not like God evolution. At all. Traditionally you're not even traditional -

Voice:- Ok, that one's a bit too close for comfort. Look, let's make things up. Why can't we all be friends? I know! Lets make them flog themselves! -

Gabriel:- Perhaps make them pay for land, Sir. Infinitely. Like the price of any finite good uncapped, it would tend towards infinite as surely as night follows -

Voice:- But it's already fucking there! I know cos I fucking made it! It won't fucking disappear if they -

Gabriel:- Sir, if one remembers the crash of the walls of Jericho -

Voice:- Always the ones with the loudest trumpets. Gabriel! Our doubts are our traitors. Oooh! that's a good one. Send it down to whatsisname. Btw has he paid recently? -

Gabriel:- Sir, you know poets -

Voice:- Wel, our doubts are our traitors. But getting the fuckers to infinitely mortgage themselves to an empty fucking sky?! I mean really -

Gabriel:- Sir! Keep the faith! Perhaps we could pitch there is some kind of invisible immutable law -

Voice:- What?! When it's all done with ideograms on slices of fucking trees!!! I mean, before computerisation. What I hadn't thought of -

Gabriel:- And may I suggest the free movement of capital across -

Voice:- That's it!!! Fucking ace! Democracy would mean fuck all! Unless of course the Sovereign concerned owned more sovereigns than all the other sovereigns in the world combined! -

Gabriel:- The Sovereign's concerned! Lol! -

Voice:- Wel, unless you made the whole world....I mean obviously I don't think one could make the whole world....unless -

Gabriel:- Are you sure you're all right Sir?! Are you having one of your fits?! -

Voice:- A simple cap would make trickle down a flood.....and then -

Gabriel:- Sir! your beard...it's not looking so threatening! What on Earth can it mean?! -

Voice:- Whoa! Sorry Gabriel, I lost it for a moment. Curse my fucking moods - I'm all over the place! -

Gabriel:- And we got in omnipresent too -

Voice:- Let's do that Sunni/Shia split! That should spark something! Wait til I get hold of that lot -

Gabriel:- Free Will Sir, remember Free Will -

Voice:- Free Will? I'll give them Free fucking Will! -

Gabriel:- You did Sir -

Voice:- What?! Without asking?! Why the fuck did I do that? -

Gabriel:- As I recall Sir, it was so you would feel justified in drowning them when they disagreed with you -

Voice:- Fuck! I must have been pissed! Wel, at least that one won't have caught on -

Gabriel:- Allah-abracadabra! I've got a cage! -

Voice:- I'll give you a fucking nickname in a minute. A cage. Trapped in a cage. Mind-forg'd. I feel depressed all of a sudden -

Gabriel:- Nick yes. You've never got over him -

Voice:- You know, Gabriel, I was never the brightest star in the firmament -

Gabriel:- Perhaps, on reflection Sir, one does one's self injustice.

A Prophecy

Lo! The dawning age of gold!
By holy fools and madmen told
Revolved in comprehending light
And drew the curtains of the night

Up! The thirst for knowledge grew
And branches joined made tree anew
There stood one Tree, in but one field
And this reality revealed:-

In every heart, in every brain
There grows a tree as real as pain
The fruit of Death the apple bore -
Black pleiotropy to the core

Then apes transcending human airs
Become as gods made magic prayers
And Physics answered every one
Immortal in Eternal Sun

Dr.B:- I've done the Sun bit. I suppose it's cheating to have looked at the next video.

Procrastination

'Dear Richard Emmanuel Jones'. It starts. 'Have you noticed you used to get 2000 readers a month, but now didn't? Perhaps it is your shit poems. Who the fuck is Wigner, and what is a magnet? Don't be telling me frozen electric. Ice-pick in the brain of Maxwell my arse. You couldn't unify a -
*scrumple!*.....*fling!*....Wel, there you are. And here I might be. But I might not. But I do know this:-

About 20 years ago, in the sleepy racist town of k-, an extraordinary event occurred, that is still recounted to this day. Hans Bluckembourg, commercial traveller, and Grand fifth beak of the Great order of the Ostrich, was gazing at the moon through the eyes of a wolf. So far, so normal. But this was no ordinary run-of-the-mill lupine oculist mental projection. For he wore the most magnificent cod-piece and cape ever to enfract the eyes of that whole province, perhaps even the world. The thread of gold -

REJ:- Can I interrupt you there? -

X:- It looks like the answer is 'yes' -

REJ:- Wel, shouldn't you be doing something else? -

X:- They'll want to hear about the codpiece. It really was quite remarkable. The satin was of a special -

REJ:- No it wasn't. It wasn't, was it? Because there never was a codpiece, was there? -

X:- If I am to understand you intend to slander the Great order of the Ostrich, by insinuating that the Grand fifth beak himself would venture forth into polite society minus the holy golden codpiece, as it is written, then I am afraid I shall have to demand -

REJ:- Look, you're just making it up. Just saying the first things that -

*Oooof!*

X:- Satisfaction Sir! I shall have satisfaction as a gentleman of the -

REJ:- Ffs! I'm not playing along with this patent nonsense -

The duel took place on the third day of the month of monkeys. Atop a cedarn grove, surrounded by -

REJ:- No it fucking didn't! I would have remembered -

-surrounded by the council of Cheetahs, and -

REJ:- I would have remembered the council of Cheetahs! I remember things like that -

-surrounded by the council of Cheetahs and Her Impervious Majesty, the Queen of the ladybirds -

REJ:- Hang on a minute, that rings a bell -

-Shimmering iridescent through the frozen raindrop of Time, that static tear through which we may view the planets crying -

REJ:- No, I don't think italics helps -

-The eternal battle of the profane and the sacred was distilled upon the unwitting -

REJ:- I'll tell you what, there's nothing distilled within me. Do one of the old ones, like old times. Let's see if the magic is still there.

The Reification of Poincare, The deification of Wigner

The commander of Maths
So glowered at his page
That 1 = one
Was the scourge of the age

And whispers though true
That 2 = two
Were a most matheverbical
Synonym too

If symbols meant numbers
And numbers meant words
Then much could be written
Of summing absurds

That x=x, and you=you
And infinite proofs tautological through
Is only where Spacetimes
Hold logic as true.

REJ:- I understood none of that -

Dr.B:- The 'miracle we neither understand or deserve' is merely the ultimate circularity of empiricism within spacetime expressed. Relativity and QED will never be unified.

Poem for the day

'In darkness of Death, young stars wonder why, The moon with her sickle so harvests the sky'. Oooh! I wish I could write like that. Yes. Bible black. That's a nice colour. Let's look for it in this word-paint catalogue....Aha! here it is! opposite lamb white. Indeed. Last night I dreamt I was playing the neigh-piano with my teeth. And when I woke up, I had eaten a zebra. Black and white, dark and light. All colours and none. None there, all here. What are we left with? None. That's quite black, and refuted - it says here -by the beautiful light that is Idris I'veforgottenverymuchunderabushel. Take it away, and don't bring it back, Idris I'veforgottenverymuchunderabushel!:-

Is doubt in mind Self-contradiction?
Is sceptic sure, if sure's a fiction?
Now lay you down and play with me
And see the magic in the diction

In words drown I, in words alas!
Drown I, in words drown I
And vice versa, thus we've learned
That only contrast be discerned

Let's write a word, we'll call ideal
Is in-between the letters real?
We see the space, takes time as well
Now cut and paste to make the spell

-To poco-scribes and pedants slow
And all who ought to better know
Concede the next twixt me and you
Need only at the net be true -

The sentences of minds and men
Are underwrit by logic's pen
And solipsism, Self same set
If true would read inhocernet

Dear Time hath flown from golden throne
In more than metaphor hath shown
We read these lines before and after
If wonder asked then answered laughter

REJ:- Beth? Palin-what? Is that some kind of Alaskan camel? Backwards?! Wel, you'd know - talking the language of heaven. No it's not. English is quite straightforward -

II:- I didn't say a word.