- FeaturingToday: January 31, 2012
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Brian Mihok
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IV – Substances Commonly Misused (an excerpt from The Quantum Manual of Style)
The entries here listed are not to be considered a comprehensive list. Since the nature of quantum style is rooted in observation, emotion and expression, any list of terms purported to be complete would work against the fluidity of the field. That is, QS depends on perspective and subjectivity, so the idea that there exists some absolute set of limits is counter-intuitive. This list, then, is intended to educate the student of QS on what is common, but by no means absolute. Context, discovery, feeling can all re-determine what is correct or appropriate or even true in QS. The field is a malleable one.
Analysis. This particular fine line widens should you study a subject academically. The problem arrives when seeking out truth by seeking out falsehood. Proving the unlikely to prove the likely. Put simply, using the negative to display the positive. For example, Internet commentary,
In response to a possible cure for cancer, gIbLeThammer8 writes:
“that’s nothing. this tech has been around 4 years. let me know when they can inject pregnent women with a vaccine 4 cancer. Then well have something.”
In response to the natural beauty of a rainbow, spectorFISH writes:
“Meh. Let’s not go overboard. Who hasn’t seen a rainbow before. And now with every tom, dick, and harry supporting gays rights these colors are everywhere.”
This method works great for multiple choice tests. It does not help with identity, desire, wisdom or satisfaction. Like having too much ice cream. To some degree we are all lactose intolerant. And when you eat a gallon of ice cream your body rejoices. Then it considers its duty. Then it asks the questions you’ve been asking for a long time. Why am I here? Why do I suffer? What am I to do with all this milk? Worse yet, this marshmallow? We need some things to be false and the ability to prove them so. That is why we have a mind. To feel something makes it true. That is why we eat ice cream. Of course, do not eat a gallon of ice cream, and do not, through falsehood, seek to prove things true.
Black Holes. We all wish we could see one. But they live in the absence of what we can see. Physicists are now making tiny ones that dissipate in nanoseconds. We still can’t see those. We can only remember them. Creating black holes is not the misuse. The misuse is looking for one when we will never see it.
Communism. A flat plane. Superficial. A better underdog. Oh what we can accomplish as this small group. What we can secure. Communism is another example of the Higgs Boson. A theory that, on a large scale, only mathematically exists. We have yet to observe it.
Electricity. A key around a string and look what we have. A mountain of a dam. A necessary current pulsing through the International Space Station. And now a mission to Mars built on electricity. What about misuse? European Brother house uses about 4,667 kWh per year. American Regular house uses 11, 209 kWh per year. Keep in mind that California is as far west as we can go.
Epiphanies. Light bulb. Then genocide. Then women can’t be priests. Then things don’t last so you must buy new things. Then useless prohibitive warranties. Then dropped coverage. Etcetera.
Heaven. At one time a physical place far above the Earth, in a dark region where no stars do shine. Also a temporary place. A condition. With personality and eyes and ears and a giant head. A divided place. One lusted after or ignored. Supported by pillars or an octopus. Early on it hung low above the Earth. An omega point. It must not be withheld.
Meat. In accordance with Rule 5 of Section 1, it follows that the consumption of animals remain a special circumstance. Quantum style does its best to avoid moral judgments, and so the morality of animal consumption is not in question. However, the misuse results from the ease with which we can acquire meat. For example,
At a deli a man steps to the counter. “I’d like to acquire some meat,” he says. He is then sold some meat.
At a party, Dorothy shows up at the door. She does not know the person throwing the party. It is a summer party. “Where’s the meat?” she asks. “It is in the drawer,” she is told.
At a restaurant in a town known for wings, Wilson looks over the menu. He’s not in the mood to acquire meat tonight. “Bring me something without meat,” he says. The waiter laughs and laughs and calls the police.
What is considered a special circumstance? Let us define through analogy. You may occasionally, when the mood suits you, have a glass of wine with dinner. Or, you may go to the theater to see a film. Or, you may purchase a piece of electronic equipment. Or, you may compliment someone. Or, you may make popcorn. Or, you may purchase a lottery ticket. Or, you may go for ice cream. Or, you may take a day off. Or, you may email an old friend. Or, you may think about a person you once loved, though this is not possible. These special circumstances are occasional because they are luxurious, too extravagant to be enjoyed often or too expensive or may not present themselves often enough. Consider meat such a circumstance. Reason it how you will.
Radiation. Put on this lead vest. Lead will kill you. I will now radiate you. Radiation will kill you. Blast radii will let you know if you will be killed by radiation. The radiation in outer space is what will kill you. If there is a meltdown you will need to be far away or else the radiation will kill you. Radiation killed hundreds of thousands in Japan. They did not have time to generate a potential blast radius. You can look at pictures of just your teeth using radiation. This is not a different type of radiation from the radiation that kills you. It is only killing you a little. You are being killed a little all the time by many things, yes, but when you learn of your murderer it behooves you to make a change.
Speed. The Earth travels at 67,000 miles per hour. The Sun travels at 560,000 miles per hour. The Milky Way travels 1.42 million miles per hour. These speeds alone compel us to go faster. We need little competition from each other or street limits or cement realities to compound our desire to move quickly. It is logical that given our lack of understanding about what happens after our expiration, we would like, if possible, to go faster. To see more. Do more. Stave off what we can stave off for as long as possible. For the faster we move the slower time moves. Einstein’s theory: Put yourself on a train. The train, ever speeding up, reaches 99.9 percent of the speed of light, the cosmological speed limit. The train comes to a stop after a year, and over 200 years have gone by on the ground. Your parents long gone. Your siblings, should you possess them and them you, also gone. Your friends even. Then, tired and old without feeling it, you would purchase another train ticket because the Earth, the Sun, and the Galaxy stop for no one.
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by Brian Mihok
read moreScrambler Books presents…
AVAILABLE TITLES:
new forms and meditations for the pressurized libertine monk by j/j hastain (2012)
Glimpses poetry by Neila Mezynski (2011)
Everything is Quiet poetry by Kendra Grant Malone (2010)
long love poem with descriptive title poetry by Matthew Savoca (2010)
A Cake Appeared poetry by Shane Jones (2010)
Inconceivable Wilson a novella by J.A. Tyler (2009)
The Dwell poetry by Eleanor Johnson (2009)
Reanimated, Somehow poetry by Valerie Loveland (2009)
Rarer and More Wonderful poetry by Trevor Calvert (2008)
FORTHCOMING TITLES:
Bluebird and Other Tattoos / Bluebird y Otros Tatuajes poetry by Luna Miguel (Feb. 2012) Bilingual edition
Corn Exchange poetry by Helen Vitoria (Spring 2012)
The Town of Shadows fiction by Lindsay Stern (2012)
You Private Person fiction by Richard Chiem (2012)
Wilson (Re)Conceived fiction by J.A. Tyler (Late 2012)
A Story short fiction by Neila Mezynski (2012)
read more
Translations
Starting in January, 2012 The Scrambler will feature writers from countries other than the USA. Selected writings from writers written in their native language as well as English translations of those selected pieces will be featured regularly and archived here. Stay tuned.
The following poems are by Sunshine Faggio an Italian poet and translator. She has a Degree and a MA in Translation Studies. She published her first collection of poems in 2009 with the Italian publisher Il Filo and has been awarded various poetry prizes (even a first one, once!). She traveled Europe a little bit and finally landed in London. After floundering and groping in the darkness for a while, she finally convinced herself that London was her place and started to write in English. Her ambition is making people consider poetry as a component of daily life and try to involve the audience with her writing by mixing it with body performance and other arts. She writes a blog, her little refuge from the harshness of life: www.chicasinwonderland.blogspot.com. All poems below were originally written in Italian except for the last titled Never Loved You.
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Voglia di averti dentro. Profumo dolce. Corpi avvinghiati. Cielo grigio, terra rossa, ben chiaro il tuo volto. I tuoi sorrisi abbozzati, le tue fughe, la mia impazienza. Sto scappando da te quando sei tutto ciò che voglio. Ma soffoco. Nodo alla gola il tuo ricordo, brividi e umori caldi il pensiero di te. Organi che soffrono. Il corpo è livido. Gli occhi umidi. È sofferenza ciò che mi dai, bruciore violento. Eppure solo anelo un altro attimo di te.
Desire of you inside me. Sweet scent. Clutched bodies. Grey sky, reddish earth clear your face. Your sketched smiles, your escapes, my impatience. I am running away from you when you are everything I wish. But I am choking. The knot in my throat at the recollection of you, shivers and warms my mood. I am doing this to protect me, to survive. My organs hurt. My body, a bruise. Humid pupils. It is torture you give me, brutal burning, and yet I yearn for another instant of you.
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Pezzi di donne ciondolanti, classificate e racchiuse, che urlano tese, spaventate, fingono d’essere illese. Cresciute in castelli appesi nell’illusione; donne la cui felicità risiede incasellata tra legno e colori. Cumuli di cotone che ci massacrano. Ci sarà ritorno dopo queste armi affilate?
Chunks of women dangling, sorted and enclosed, outstretched screaming, frightened, and pretending to be unscathed. Grew up in castles hanging in illusion, women whose glee is framed in colored wood. Heaps of cotton that we torture. Will recovery exist after these sharp weapons?
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I. Regna il silenzio. Solo il latrare di un cane, veicoli lontani. Sole tiepido, vento lieve che sfiora la pelle. Sospiro, respiro. Scappo da me.
II. Qui. Di fronte a te, non una parola. Non servono. Cantiamo le stesse note, anni luce distanti. Eppure così vicini. Sei dentro di me e non lo sai. Mi penetri e non ti sento.
III. Maledettamente pensare a te. Repulsione. Emicrania. Encefalo che schianta. Ti sento qui, ancora. Ti voglio vomitare.
IV. Tanto tempo e capisco di non averti eliminato. Graffio i ricordi per annullare le tracce di te. Nausea il ricordo di noi.
I. Silence reigns. A dog barking, distant vehicles. Tepid sun, the wind caressing my skin. I sigh, I breathe. I run away from me.
II. Here. In front of you, not a word. We do not need them. Singing the same notes light years distant. And yet so close. You are inside me without knowing it. You penetrate me and I can’t feel you.
III. Damned thinking of you. Repulsion. Migraine. My brain bursting. I feel you here, still. I wanna vomit you.
IV. After an eternal life I realize I did not expel you. I scratch my recollections to extirpate the traces of you. Nauseous at the memory of us.
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Never Loved You
Submerged in this abysmal sea of rotten blood,
I ponder if I am still alive.
I stick my finger tip in the wound.
It is dry now.
The blood seems not to be there anymore,
most of it went out of my body.
I am asphyxiating.
I vomited all the rest of the feast we had together,
I have seen it flowing away with my hope.
I never loved you
and yet I feel as if you cut my limbs.
I never loved you
and yet I feel as if you sucked my blood.
I never loved you
and yet I feel as if you had been rummaging between my organs,
leaving me empty.
It is a pale barren landscape I inhabit now
and light is penetrating,
through my closed eyelids.
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All poems written and translated by Sunshine Faggio.
read moreIssue 52 – January 2012
poetry
4 poems by Sunshine Faggio
terracotta by Meg Cameron
fiction
IV – Substances Commonly Misused (an excerpt from The Quantum Manual of Style) by Brian Mihok
art
Various Characters & Riding the Shooting Star by Kiyasu Green
music
Playlist #30 compiled by Melanie Uyeda
reviews
The Three Musketeers a movie review by Heather Craig
Modern Family Season 2 a DVD review by Heather Craig








