The Circle is Time
Six of the Nine
Process through time
Three of the Nine
Are outside time:
Yet still impact
And impinge in time
By impelling this processional motion.
The Six of the Nine can be represented by the six faces of a cube:
Enfolded outlooks on the world.
The Three of the Nine can be represented by the three dimensions of a cube:
…Dimension is always an adequate symbol for Divinity.
The Seed at Zero can be represented by the cube itself in miniature:
A little world encapsulated by a larger one..?
‘Three of the Nine’.
What is the antithesis of one?
None, two or many…?
It is tempting to answer money… that is, ‘my one’ as opposed to The One, which ‘belongs’ to everybody.
For many years I laboured under the misapprehension that to glean the gist of a thing was to have the mere rudiments of it which is almost the exact opposite of the word’s actual meaning. This can happen because of the context in which words are used and context which has at least two viewpoints if not many more is really just another word for perspective.
The World is predicated on number.
Mineral, Plant and Animal growth are all governed by number.
Music is number in time.
Geometry is number in space.
Neither the World, Music nor Geometry initially ‘looks’ very much like number but that is what they are.
The qualities of number are the key to understanding this, which really means their properties and their relationships, each one conceived as distinct from all the others yet linked by natural sequence and logical progression.
Strictly speaking there are only seven numbers.
Zero is not a number because it is the negation of number:
It is rather both Tomb and Womb of number…
One is not a number because it is everything, without which there would be no thing:
Not One Thing…
Nine is not a number because it is a completion and possesses all the qualities of Zero:
And although numbers go on for ever they always repeat from Nine…
But Geometry can help here too because the way we see things affects the way we think about things and vice-versa.
Whenever we come across a reversible we have reflection and the world, it has been claimed, is merely a domain of perceived reflections.
Plato’s Cave is the classic simile for this idea.
In order to affect the shadow-play of the world-screen one has to access the light source.
The outer can only be affected by changing the inner.
This can be ‘seen’ to be the case by experiencing the following ‘optical illusion’.
When the outer cube ‘flips’ the inner cube remains unaffected.
But if the inner cube ‘flips’ the outer cube has to flip too.
Can you see it?
‘Given the option we would all choose to live in a house of the imagination…’
…A riddle is a trick played with words.
And this word ‘trick’ is interesting for it too has a three in it.
This three it seems to me is the unknown, or rather in the case of a ‘low down’ trick the not known by one but known only too well by the other.
It is debatable of course but it could be argued that whenever there is a one and another they are in one sense or another always reaching for a third.
Perhaps this reaching is an attempt to define the unknown.
Only by reaching together can they succeed.
Like a line that seeks a triangle.*
In order for the line to rise its polarities have to meet in the middle.
In order for the triangle to rise its singular-triplicities have to meet in the middle.
I hear you cry, why are the angles singular-triplicities?
Because each angle is simultaneously one of three and three in one, it is a point and also the point of two distinct bases.
Technically this ‘two base thing’ could also be designated a common-duplicity which is the reason why the little figure below works and as such, singularly, it gives us a hidden ‘fourth’, collectively, a hidden ‘sixth’.
What does one point gain from another?
What do two points gain from a third?
What do three points gain from a fourth?
A line is a point with two ends to it.
A triangle is a line with three turns in it.
A tetrahedron is a triangle in ‘two minds’.
If the minds were houses one would be a house of the living, the other would be a house of the dead.
Or to rephrase: One mind is inner the other is outer.
For the inner to contain the outer, or for the drop to contain the ocean, requires a fourth and a sixth…
* This triangle is always an equilateral triangle.
…Mother said, “The spiral patterns on the gate don’t mean anything, dear, they’re just decoration.”
If life is a search for meaning then it would be as well to point out from the start that there is none to be had, that way more people would be able to relax and appreciate their surroundings.
The gate of number eight Teesgrove Road did not mean anything but at least it now existed for me in some sort of meaningful way. Those spiral-line pieces of metal made me think that they were a pretty beautiful and elaborate way of saying absolutely nothing…
In fact those spiral-line pieces of metal made me wonder just where the gate of number eight Teesgrove Road stood in relation to the other gates in the street and the very short answer to that question was that the gate of number eight Teesgrove Road was unique.
The Urban and Suburban Town Planners sit around tables drawing up each new uniform vision of the future and the people they have designed the latest uniform homes for move in and immediately start turning meticulously planned dreams into their own personalised versions of heaven or hell.
At some point in time between the construction of number eight Teesgrove Road and our arrival in the street, the previous owner must have flicked through brochures, or paraded around showrooms, ‘hummed and ahhed’, and eventually plumped for the intricate, metalwork, spiral-line design which was, years later, to become a source of such wonder.
People, I have heard it said have no grasp of what they do.
The metal work spiral-line design on the gate of number eight Teesgrove Road did not mean anything to mother but it must have been having some sort of an effect on her reasoning because when she finally got around to transforming the stairs and hallway of number eight Teesgrove Road the metal work supports she chose to adorn the newly scraped, sanded and varnished wooden banister rail comprised a spiral-line design.
“Ooh look,” I said when I first saw it, “the banister rail now matches the garden gate.”
“Oh yes,” said mother, “so it does, I hadn’t realised.”
The spiral-line metal work design of the supports for the newly scraped, sanded and varnished wooden banister rail were black but of the twisted metalwork slats which were to alternate between them and which had come through the post at the same time, some were black and some were white.
Someone at the Mail Order Firm had made a mistake.
“Tutt… look at this,” said mother “they’ve sent the wrong ones… I ordered black… Damn and Blast it… Now what am I going to do? They’ll have to go back, it’s no use… They’ll have to go back… I’m not having ‘em… Flaming Marvellous… it’s not damn difficult is it… I mean, black is black isn’t it? It’s definitely not… blasted white…And I wanted to get it done this weekend…”
I started laughing.
Mother started laughing too, “it’s not damn funny” she said and then her laugh started to turn into a sob…
“Try it anyway,” I suggested “the skirting board and the picture rails are still white, you never know, it might look okay.”…
The Mail Order Firm had sent ten twisted black slats, five twisted white slats and ten black spiral-line designs which we arranged in a three to one ratio, starting at the bottom of the stairs with two twisted black slats, a spiral-line design followed by a twisted white slat and proceeding in like manner until we finished with a twisted white slat at the top of the stairs.
Now when mother was vacuuming and I huddled into the corner of the dog-leg two thirds the way up the stairs so as to feel the full effect of the vibrations rattling the floor-boards and juddering the stair-well, I could also trace the spiral-line design with my eyes… and amid all that noise, with cold shivers traversing the length of my spine…
I could think of black…
and then think of white…
A Cellular Life
…I first noticed the spirals on the gate of number eight Teesgrove Road when I was turning the soil and tidying the litter from the strip of earth which separated its grounds from those of number ten Teesgrove Road.
I started at the bottom of the garden under the gate post because a lot of litter and dead leaves had collected under the bush which stood in front of the gatepost.
Up and until that point in time the gate of number eight Teesgrove Road had been simply that, a gate, but as I worked, this gate started to impose something of it’s own making, something peculiar and of its very own sweet terror… which, after several long hard stares, it eventually transpired, consisted in a pattern of iron worked spirals.
Inanimate objects do not talk, they do not have a voice but when the Amerindian advises you to listen to trees he is not necessarily imploring you to use your ears.
Once I had taken the time to actually look at the pattern of spirals on the gate they were pretty easy to work out and I began running my finger tips along the inside edge, into the centre and back out again…
First the top two spirals, and then the bottom two…
The arched back of each of the two spirals were welded together in the middle and the zenith and nadir of each of the outside edges of the four spirals had been soldered to cross slats which ran the breadth of the gate.
But for the cross slats I’d have been able to trace my fingers around the whole of each pattern without a break but when my fingers got jammed I started using my eyes instead which was a lot quicker but which made me feel dizzy.
It was at this point that I started wondering what the spirals meant and why anyone would bother to spend time working them into the design on a gate and it was at this point that I remembered that in spring time the leaves on the bush played host to fat, hairy, yellow and black caterpillars which transformed themselves into pale green butterflies.
It struck me that if the pattern of spirals was turned on its side it would look just like a butterfly and it also struck me that the pattern of spirals the craftsman had used to crown the gate – Two huge spirals meeting and tailing away left and right to small inverse spirals – looked almost like the raised middle section of the arched back of a caterpillar, inching its way along a leaf, but after these pointless thoughts I gave up trying to work out what the patterns meant, determined to ask mother and returned to the chore in hand…
A Cellular Life
After three days, Asmodeus was brought before Solomon.
In his hand, he had taken up a stave which men use to measure, and he immediately measured out four cubits on the palace floor. Throwing down the stave before Solomon, he said to the king, “This man has naught in the world save four cubits of the grave. Were you not satisfied in conquering the whole world that you had to come and conquer me?”
Solomon said to him, “I do not want anything from you. I only wish to build the Temple and stand in need of the Naxian Stone.”
Asmodeus answered the king, “The stone has not been delivered into my keep, but rather, into that of the Prince of the Sea. And he has given its secret to none, save to the hoopoe bird, seeing that she alone is faithful in keeping to her sworn oath.”
“And what does she do with it?”
“She takes the rare stone to those desolate mountains where there is no settlement of any kind, and lays it on the ledge of a mountain. This is the reason her name is translated by us in the Aramaic tongue, ‘Mountain Carpenter’, seeing that she will first cleave the mountains, and then bring there seeds from other trees, and throw them down, causing them to spring up in those places.”
Soloman sent out Benai to search for the hoopoe bird.
He found a nest that had fledglings, and covered the nest over with a plate of translucent glass.
When the mother bird returned to her nest, seeking to go inside and feed her chicks, she could not do so.
So, she went off then to the mountains, and returned with a Naxian stone, hoping to cut the glass plate.
But Benai took the stone from her and returned to the palace with the treasure.
… Benai, the son of Yehoda, said to Asmodeus, “Tell me, the reason for all the things that you did on the way to the palace. When you saw that blind man who erred on the road, why did you lift him up and put him on the right path?”
Asmodeus answered, “It was because I heard a proclamation over him in heaven, saying that he was wholly a righteous man, and that whoever gratified his soul would have a portion in the world to come.”
“And what was the reason, when you saw the house of merry-making, that you began to cry?” asked Benai.
Answered Asmodeus, “It was because the man who had just been married, unawares of his plight, was to die within thirty days. His bride would perforce keep herself unwedded for thirteen years more, until she could be wedded again in a marriage to the younger brother of her deceased husband, now but a child.”
“And what is the reason, when you heard that man saying to a shoemaker, ‘Make me a pair of shoes that will last me for seven years,’ that you began to laugh?” asked Benai.
Answered Asmodeus, “It was because that man had not even seven more days to live. What use, then, is it to him having shoes that will last him seven years?” …
… While Asmodeus was being drawn along in his binding, every tree that he passed, he would brush himself against, and cast it down.
Every house that he approached, he would cast down.
He reached the dwelling place of a certain poor, elderly woman, being but a sepulchre carved from the rock.
She came out and began pleading with him that he was not to destroy her humble abode.
He then bent down his great stature, breaking a bone within himself, while doing so, he became awakened to a sense of his condition.
Asmodeus then saw a blind man who had erred as he walked along the road.
He lifted the man up, and put him back on the right path.
Asmodeus then saw a house where there was merry-making, and within which the people were exceedingly happy.
He began to cry.
Asmodeus then overheard a man saying to a shoemaker, “Make me a pair of shoes that will last me for seven years!”
He began to laugh.
Finally, Benai and Asmodeus, reached their destination…
… So, Solomon sent for Benai, the son of Yehoda.
He gave to him a chain and an anklet inscribed with the Ineffable Name and woollen yarns, and leather sacks containing wine, and told him what he must do with them.
Then Benai went to the mountains and while Asmodeus was in the celestial realms he dug a cistern beneath that which was made by Asmodeus and drained out the water that was in the upper so that it emptied itself into the nether, and then he clogged them both up with the woollen yarns.
When Asmodeus was in the terrestrial realms Benai carved out a cistern above the one made by Asmodeus, pouring in to it wine which then emptied into the other, after which he covered it over again and climbed up into a tree.
When Ashmodeus eventually came to the cistern and examined his seal, he opened it and found that, instead of water, there was wine inside it!
‘Wine is a mocker, and strong drink is raging,’ he reasoned, ‘I shall not drink of it.’
But when he began to thirst the more and more he changed his tune, thinking, ‘yet wine makes glad the heart of man and turns the face more radiant than oil.’
So, Asmodeus drank of the wine but soon became drunk and fell into a stupor.
Benai then came and cast upon him the chain and the anklet given to him by Solomon and locked them.
When he awoke, Asmodeus saw, to his dismay, that he was fettered in iron and tried to break loose.
But Benai said to him, “my Master’s name is inscribed upon your hands and feet and you are bound!” …
The Temple was made of whole, draft stones.
Yet, hammers and axes, or any instrument made of iron, was not to be heard in the Temple while it was being built. – (I Kings. 6:7)
Solomon went to the Holy Men and said, “Tell me, how should the Temple be constructed?”
The Holy Men answered him, “You must find the Naxian Stone which Moses used to engrave the breast plate of the High Priest.”
“And where should I find the Naxian Stone?” asked Solomon.
“We know it not,” replied the Holy Men, and they shrugged their shoulders.
So, Solomon summoned demons, both male and female, and asked them if they knew the whereabouts of the stone.
They said to him, “We do not know where it is located, but perhaps Asmodeus, Prince of the Demons, knows.”
“And where should I find him?” asked Solomon.
“He is in the mountains, carving out a cistern. Every morning he fills it up with water, covers it over with cobble stones, and seals it with his seal,” said the demons. “Then he flies up into the heavens, learns a thing or two from the celestial school, then flies back down to earth and learns a thing or two from the terrestrial school, after which, he returns to examine the seal on his cistern to check that it has not been broken. Then he opens the seal himself, drinks from the cistern, covers it over again, replaces his seal upon it, and dozes off to sleep.” …