I see a ramble coming in Memorium to the decease blog, this one regarding the concept of "information",
waying and measuring the intellectual aspects of non-Jewish cultures and societies, organization and representation of knowledge, defining between information, wisdom and knowledge (based in part in "cult of information" by Roczak), the different consequences of systemetizing the same materials (like matter is basically energy; but in cumulatively different sorts of systems generated from the exact same material itself result in a world of different "things", how worlds of different things can in a sense be derived from essentially common structures), the differences between Divinely granted knowledge/inf/wisdom and that of the (seemingly) secular system derived "experimentation/empirically sourced knowledge/inf/wisdom, Ray Bradbury's "powerplant" essay, Orality and literacy, cognition and visual language, paleography, more later

I'm going to stop. I sent an beautifully long ramble about emergence and "Nesting" and modelibility and I have no idea what else to my Hotmail account, it didn't recognize the email address, it sat in my wastebasket and was erased. I will ramble about my growing doubt that it matters that I think, what I think, what place it or I have in the world if it goes so unheard as to be become deleted by my virtual "self"....I could die. I have honestly nothing to look forward to. I at least thought I could have saved the thing for myself, I'd worked for about 2 hours on it after deleting the original then having to remember it. but no. I sent it to myself, and whatever filters decided to work when they accepted the email address before deemed it deletable. I could die. I could so die. It was such a pregnant ramble, something I could really have worked from. I could so freaking die, but like my thoughts, just more water down the Cosmic drain, undistinguishable from so much other water, why do I think it matters to anyone but me? Why do I think I bother to anyone but me and my mommy?

I am SO wired; it's amazing the degree to which one can truly lose
control over the startability/stopability of his thoughts. cappuchino
administered at 10:00 pm, Jerusalem Standard Time. I recall Shlomo
haMelekh's ability to converse with birds, etc, as well as the
AriZTL's ability to read the signs of leaves from trees, birds, etc.
I would like the ability to speak the language of alley cats in
Jerusalem. It would seem such a skill, as they defy borders of
physics, as well as social, religious and political borders in their
daily wonderings, a world of meaning and significance made up of our
seemingly extreneous and mundane ["meaninglesses"], structures, refuse
and doings, beyond fathoming. It would seem that just that sort of
skill would be noted by Mekubalim who themselves would be refering
researchers of things Deeply Odd to the Bokher-Who-Consults-With-The-
Alley-Cats.