I started on St. Mary's street, but ended on...
I never was very religious, so anything more than observable seems absurd to me. Whatever is not experienced personally, I don’t believe existed without serious skepticism. Drugs and books have taken me outside of myself, but nothing like the events of last week.
Out of body experiences are too common now-red-necks have them in their truck just before being abducted by aliens and probed yadda yadda yadda. There are crazy ideas about out-of bodies. I’ve heard of signs and symbols strategically situated within operating rooms so that people on the ground can’t see them, but if a person were to lift out of their bodies while retaining sensory and cognitive abilities, then they may see and recall the “What’s it like?” sign on top of the medical cabinet….
All crap to me, until I had my one.
It was the seventh time I thought I was flying, but this was different. No drugs, I swear. (To be honest, though, it may have been an acid flashback.) Anyways, what is more important is that I soared up from myself while I was walking north over the Saint Mary’s bridge and saw Boston University pulsing with life down below.
I was willingly moving myself around above the brain Boston University had become. Streets and other major arteries turned into veins and capillaries, people and cars to blood cells and anti-bodies.
Anti-bodies work weirdly-a white blood cell encounters a virus or whatever and then finds a way to kill it. Once they’ve figured out a way to kill it, the white blood-cells carry that particular anti-body around with them. That’s how we get immunities and all: a problem is solved and then the solution becomes a medal for the one who discovered it, and a resource to everyone else.
Right, back to my out-of-body thing. I’m floating up there looking down and seeing the uber-rational School of Management off to my right. That spot around Kenmore square, off to the east of me, clicked with predictable pragmatism. Problems typed into Sharp Calculators are solved quickly, and memos are never longer than one page.
West of me and off to my left, is the College of Fine Arts. Instead of pragmatism and myopic self-interest, the Fine Arts people purposefully mismatch yet coordinate their socks or shoes. They interpret music and express it through dance, not annual reports in the form of ratios. These are stereotypical left/right brainers to a T (oddly the same letter is used to abbreviate the above ground subway-shitbox that runs horizontally through our campus. The T bridges the schools like synopses span lobes, carrying signals, people, and blood cells forth and back on an electrified track.
So I’m flying there and I can see these two ends of the spectrum, and in front of me is Marsh Chapel. I’ve never been in Marsh Chapel, but I walk towards it several times a day. Saint Mary’s road heads towards the foot of Marsh Plaza, and when it ends you can either walk right or left of it, to the east or west, towards sunrise or sunset, either rationally or emotionally, pragmatically or creatively. Every time I get to the Marsh, though, I turn rather than go in. I suppose everyone does-either they avoid the church in pursuit of rationality or pragmatism, or they have a longing for a more creative and emotional course.
Considering the swampy quagmire that religion is, I guess it’s smart that most people avoid it, but too bad it’s avoided by smart people.
To me, religion only associates with death. It is probably because science has provided answers to the problems religion sought to solve through the speculative ideas it posited. Death is the only thing death hasn’t really solved, but we’re working on it.
One thing about out-of-bodies that science has solved is that the imminence of death causes a burst of LSD-like chemicals to flood your brain. Doctors say this is why those with near-death experiences associated with out-of bodies report bright lights and floating feelings. I wish they had an answer for my out of body. I wish I had lots of answers. Nothing-not rationale, not creativity, not belief-has given me any answers. Maybe that is why I have no idea what to do with my life; perhaps that is why I am approaching death without the slightest idea as to how I should prepare for it….
Out of body experiences are too common now-red-necks have them in their truck just before being abducted by aliens and probed yadda yadda yadda. There are crazy ideas about out-of bodies. I’ve heard of signs and symbols strategically situated within operating rooms so that people on the ground can’t see them, but if a person were to lift out of their bodies while retaining sensory and cognitive abilities, then they may see and recall the “What’s it like?” sign on top of the medical cabinet….
All crap to me, until I had my one.
It was the seventh time I thought I was flying, but this was different. No drugs, I swear. (To be honest, though, it may have been an acid flashback.) Anyways, what is more important is that I soared up from myself while I was walking north over the Saint Mary’s bridge and saw Boston University pulsing with life down below.
I was willingly moving myself around above the brain Boston University had become. Streets and other major arteries turned into veins and capillaries, people and cars to blood cells and anti-bodies.
Anti-bodies work weirdly-a white blood cell encounters a virus or whatever and then finds a way to kill it. Once they’ve figured out a way to kill it, the white blood-cells carry that particular anti-body around with them. That’s how we get immunities and all: a problem is solved and then the solution becomes a medal for the one who discovered it, and a resource to everyone else.
Right, back to my out-of-body thing. I’m floating up there looking down and seeing the uber-rational School of Management off to my right. That spot around Kenmore square, off to the east of me, clicked with predictable pragmatism. Problems typed into Sharp Calculators are solved quickly, and memos are never longer than one page.
West of me and off to my left, is the College of Fine Arts. Instead of pragmatism and myopic self-interest, the Fine Arts people purposefully mismatch yet coordinate their socks or shoes. They interpret music and express it through dance, not annual reports in the form of ratios. These are stereotypical left/right brainers to a T (oddly the same letter is used to abbreviate the above ground subway-shitbox that runs horizontally through our campus. The T bridges the schools like synopses span lobes, carrying signals, people, and blood cells forth and back on an electrified track.
So I’m flying there and I can see these two ends of the spectrum, and in front of me is Marsh Chapel. I’ve never been in Marsh Chapel, but I walk towards it several times a day. Saint Mary’s road heads towards the foot of Marsh Plaza, and when it ends you can either walk right or left of it, to the east or west, towards sunrise or sunset, either rationally or emotionally, pragmatically or creatively. Every time I get to the Marsh, though, I turn rather than go in. I suppose everyone does-either they avoid the church in pursuit of rationality or pragmatism, or they have a longing for a more creative and emotional course.
Considering the swampy quagmire that religion is, I guess it’s smart that most people avoid it, but too bad it’s avoided by smart people.
To me, religion only associates with death. It is probably because science has provided answers to the problems religion sought to solve through the speculative ideas it posited. Death is the only thing death hasn’t really solved, but we’re working on it.
One thing about out-of-bodies that science has solved is that the imminence of death causes a burst of LSD-like chemicals to flood your brain. Doctors say this is why those with near-death experiences associated with out-of bodies report bright lights and floating feelings. I wish they had an answer for my out of body. I wish I had lots of answers. Nothing-not rationale, not creativity, not belief-has given me any answers. Maybe that is why I have no idea what to do with my life; perhaps that is why I am approaching death without the slightest idea as to how I should prepare for it….