Memorycemetery

A friend of mine put a cross on me, it looks like. She says, I am into post-religious spiritualism, referring to Memorycemetery concept. I can accept that. Some people called me worse words. Frankly speaking, I was always being suspicious in regard of everything starting from “post”, as of something second hand, or with warning: “Danger! Badly digested concepts attached!”. Nevertheless, as there’s no pleasure whatsoever in pointless arguing, I will take it on the basis that awakening of post-religious spiritualism requires evolution of our consciousness. Self-satisfaction is the only wisdom of our days…  :)

“God doesn’t play dice”, quoted she A.Einstein’s words. If so, let’s consider these words from my freshly acquired position of post-religious spiritualist:

 If God does not play dice, shall I accept Him/Her/It as the Savour?

I do not want to be saved by a superpower. If I want to be saved (from what?: from myself, of course), I want to be saved by a miracle. This statement probably pushes me even further into cultural margins, if not beyond. So what? It could be nice to fuck off the public value, as another friend of mine said on a different occasion. He studies economics. He told me what the post-industrial economics requires developed tools of post-industrial mathematics and vice versa. Like, for example, developing of the game theory had a certain impact on a stock market and the stock market acquired those ideas for further advance. This year’s Noble prize in economics given to this theory developers is the proof. My interest in economics though is somewhat on micro-level: how to survive from one salary to another one? How can I pay off my debts? So before we sunk deeper in such gory subjects, I would like to turn my attention to somewhere else. Let’s say, if games theory can describe behaviour of very complex and rather chaotic systems, what impact does it have on God? Or, down to more practical matters, on my dreams?

 I usually do not remember my dreams. Because they are rare, I usually pen them down. Maybe forgetting them is for my own good. Anyway, as I have to give that friend of mine new food for thoughts, let’s look into my scarce archives. I do not want to frighten myself with dates, so let’s put it simple. This is a record dated a while ago:

“Last month in my dream I found a big grey rat in a glass box there we keep sugar. Today it was also strange. I think it was inspired by a conversation with James. He made in his studio downstairs a fantastic drawing with tea bags all over the walls. Tea bags leave thick brown traces if you draw with them, or funny splashes and spots if you throw them on the wall. James told me what he is actually allergic to tea, which obviously was not true. He told me that his work is very British in spirit. Indeed. It depicted those funny dogs, corgis, which the Queen likes to keep. In those tea traces I could actually see some of them. They were beautiful beasts. So I am not surprised to learn from him that the Queen has a habit to feed them with biscuits while having her tea. Sure bet. If I was the Queen, I certainly would do the same. So after a little nice chat with James I went upstairs, to my room and fell asleep.

In my dream I was a trusted Queens’ servant. We lived on a boat. The Queen had lots of them, so all together it was like a floating in marina city with shining lights and fairy ambient music. Oh, the Queen was charming and generous, as she allowed me sometimes to eat some of her biscuits. In my dream we were going to our royal boat, when she saw that nice tiny fox sitting on the embankment. She asked me to catch this fox for her as it was really cute. I came up to the fox, took it in my hands and the fox bit me. I do not remember what had happen afterwards if anything did.

So here is my dream. Let’s start from what is given.

1. Obviously there’s a strong James’ story influence, e.g: biscuits, tea, Queen and British spirit.

2. Fox theme. In regard of this subject I can mention there’ re lots of foxes in London. So it is possible to see and catch one if you are smart enough actually. At that time I also participated in one collective art show. One of the invited guests was a kind of established one, “conceptualist” geezer in his late 40’s. He had a performance at the opening, also British in spirit.  He was so fed up of foxes, that decided something should be done. So he called in press,  fried and ate one of them. He did it in style: on a white tablecloths, with vintage porcelain plates and silver cutlery, with fine wine. He also was wearing a tuxedo and mask somehow. I think he expected what London fox diaspora will read about it in the morning newspapers and will fled in fear. Instead the poor lad went to hospital himself with food poisoning in a condition close to coma.

3. To please my critics I will accept that the Queen in this dream could represent God.

So, like in my recent dream involving crocodiles, where I tried to prove the point about dreams as being an eclectic product of selective memories, game theory pinned me down again. Chances were, and chances became. Hallelujah.

Boris Kislitsin.

P.S. Here it is, you know what. Random chances generator working model. Courtesy of images stock exchange (accidentally coming back to the game theory and stock markets :)), if I figured out this link properly. It comes as no surprise. If it works, why not to sell it?

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