Stalking Vol 2 The Bridge of Reason HTML version

seeing occurs outside of thought, so it includes understanding without the need for la nguage and
without necessarily directing, or wanting to know what you saw."
"What could I know without trying to know anything?"
"K nowledge is available everywhere, to everyone, all of the time, if they have the energy to
access and assess it." She peered into me. "Everything is media, because everything is an
interpretation, and because everything is conscious everything communicates. Who or what is
listening is another issue." Briefly gathering her thoughts, she said, "As a teacher, you are media
to me: everything you say and do is a metaphor about you and your perspectives. I am now
teaching you how to locate the metaphors you create, specifically the behavioral aberrations that
infect you. O f necessity, these essences lie outside of the reasoning you use to maintain the
continuity of your existence, which is why they are so difficult for the average person to merely
locate, let alone change. It follows that you cannot act like an average person to hunt them."
"Which I was at the store, then I wasn't to ha ve realized where I was... did I cross the bridge
of concern again?"
"Excellent, you're seeing how things work. Important to note that achieving this kind of
clarity doesn’t do a thing to change your poor behaviors: there’s nothing stopping you from
becoming an idiot with power other than heart and discipline, one of which you’ve lost and the
other you’ve never had. We are on the hunt for both, and we will find them within the three cores
of knowledge required to become…" she hesitated, and said instead, "As your ability to know
through any means grows you must guard against your penchant for piety, and become smitten
with your presumed power and treat people like servants. Now, what word did I ask you to
"This is how your ability to know becomes incorporated into ever larger assumptions: There
was a young boy who knocked things off shelves," she said, "too often touched hot stoves with
his elbow while making peanut butter and jam sandwiches, and skinned his knees and knuckles
so regularly that his mother put Band-Aids on her shopping list every week. As he grew so too
did the scars, which evolved into mini awards for the battles of life he had fought. In time, his
parents bought him a new winter coat, not a jacket design, but the kind that went down almost to
his knees. He hated the fashion, but it was a warm coat and getting snow down the back of his
pants while sliding down hills on the way to school was no fun in class. O n balance, the only real
problem he had with the coat was zipping it up.
"Half the time," she explained mysteriously, as if to this child, "he couldn’t get it to close
beyond getting the tongue and the teeth in line, and pulling up about a quarter of an inch before it
became stuck. He got used to tugging and sometimes s ucceeding, so he eventually wore away a
section of stitching and bent some teeth; his parents had to replace the zipper. He secretly hoped
this might correct the problem, or get rid of the coat, so he didn’t have to decide what to wear,
but it did neither. He still wore his old jacket, and endured the occasional wet butt that a less
frustrating exit from the house offered."
She paused to have me voice that I knew she was speaking about me. I nodded for her to
"Finally, the day came when fatigue from arguing with his mother about playing with his
friends versus doing homework overcame his exasperation; looking down, while trying to think
of a way to avoid homework, he held the tongue of the zipper in place and pulled slowly. For the
first time, he noticed that on the first tug he habitually turned the bottom of the zipper slightly
upwards. This crimped the teeth just ahead of the joiner causing the tug of war with the zipper.