We happened to be where there is a television when the latest airplane incident occurred. They showed interviews with travelers who were very happy about the reinforced controls, saying they feel much safer that way. Harumph—they didn’t interview me, I thought. Suddenly I could see the flagrant manipulation. Of course they are not going to show interviews of people calling for forgiveness, for love of their fellow man; that would not serve their interests. I see a young man who has been led to believe, as are many others—how many countries have armed troops in other countries?—that we can through killing make a better world. Now that misguided young man is in the hospital with third-degree burns.
Airports are planning to use the “full body scan” machine, Amsterdam and Chicago have been mentioned. A few years ago, we changed planes in Chicago and there was already a pernicious atmosphere in that airport with regular announcements saying if you see anyone acting strange, report it to the police. Now, I feel that I probably do a lot of things that could seem strange to someone else. Who decides and on what basis what is strange? A health food nut would find it strange that I eat one of those cinnamon buns with double sticky stuff. An atheist is going to find it strange that one should pray. Those with cell phones and laptops are going to find it strange that I should be using a phone card on the public phone and writing with pen and paper. That announcement was contributing to creating an unhealthy attitude towards others, one of fear and judgment, rather than love and understanding, recognizing our differences as wealth, our individuality as a divine gift.
This thing they call full body scan—what kind of rays does it use? What effects does it have on your body? Do you think it is healthy for a person to spend their working hours in a room looking at everyone naked? If I refuse the machine, is it any better to be searched in a room by others who will be fully clothed, perhaps armed? Yet, if I strip down at the access gate, I will probably be arrested for indecent exposure.
No machine can see your full being. We are body, mind and soul and no machine can see what is in your heart and mind, the source of our thoughts which lead to our actions. Our soul actually constitutes our true body. “I gave man the beast’s flesh, entrails and bones as scaffolding for his real body, as light as a pure smoke, that is not born of the mother’s womb, but (that is born) of the (way of) life of the man already born who begets himself into an infinite life which he builds like a ship to head for the open sea.”
The Revelation of Arès 17/2b-3
This inner change, being and doing good, is the only way we can change the world. Any person at any time can decide to be and do good or otherwise. There is no way to eliminate all the possible terrorists except by freely making the choice to eliminate the terrorist within oneself.
This is the direction I am taking, but I know I have far to go. And yet, it seems that if my soul were bright enough, strong enough, it would bust the fuses on that machine.
I read the following this morning:
« En représaille contre l’attentat manqué, les Etats-Unis et le Yémen cherchent de nouvelles cibles au Yémen pour des frappes aériennes, a rapporté la chaîne CNN. »
Translation : In retaliation for the missed attack, the United States and Yemen are seeking new targets in Yemen for air strikes, reported CNN.
And so we see the never-ending cycle of revenge. Where is the land of the free and the home of the brave?
Furiously knitting away while thinking about all of this, my moebius seems to have taken on a heart shape.
You may have observed how much fun young children have with the box a present came in. For me, a piece of string will do, along with a book explaining a new way to twist it. My sister sent this lovely package—kid mohair, a luxury yarn I would never buy for myself, bamboo needles and a book about Moebius knitting. She told me how versatile the articles can be that are knitted this way, scarf, hat, shrug, shawl, all in one, even to carry things. I had a vision of using it to bring back tomatoes from the greenhouse because I often stretch out my sweater or T-shirt to do this, but no, not in kid mohair. What would be the equivalent of jeans here? Maybe rug yarn?
My husband voiced the thought I had quickly squelched in my mind—bamboo needles, airplane? I reminded him what had happened to a woman who had bought wooden needles on purpose and was not allowed to have them. She was so frustrated she snapped them and then they took her aside for counselling as “maybe” she wasn’t in a good state to get on the plane. What a change in events we have in the world today where a woman can easily be a pilot if she so desires, but is not allowed to knit on a plane. If I were the pilot though, I wouldn’t have time to knit…
I look through the book and begin to discover something so different to me that I decide to start with the basic beginner’s project. Usually I would read everything and then jump to intermediate or advanced, but I can’t see how this is going to work out. I wonder if it is what happens when one starts a circular project and it accidentally gets twisted since many inventions happen by accident, but the book says no, that’s not it. I learn that this latest “craze” began in 1989. My sister said it is supposedly “all over the internet” but this is the first I have heard of it. 20 years, do I live in the back woods or what! Then again, it has been over 30 years since The Revelation of Arès was received and not very many know about that or have read it, something of much greater importance to the world than knitting a mathematical form.
Following the instructions carefully, I cast on in this particular way 192 stitches. Then I seem to have a bit of cable sticking up whereas the book said the 36” length is the smallest one that will work so it doesn’t seem like there should be any extra needle! I give it a poke-thrust, something shifts and then mine resembles the one in the book. I wonder if the swatch and measuring will be of any use because it looks like I am working around the needle plus the cable
Just like the book says, when I have done one half round it seems to be a full round. I spy something down on the lower left that could be hairpin lace. I keep on going around. That’s what the instructions say, cast on, go around and around to the desired size and then bind off. I don’t know how I will know when I get to the size or if I make a mistake, if I drop a stitch or create an extra one, this is so mysterious.
After the first full round, I seem to be working on the needles rather the needles plus the cable.
After the second full round, I see something is building, I have more space in the coiled needle and it looks like half of it is purled and half knitted, although I have only knitted.
Meanwhile on the other side of the kitchen half wall, I played with some strings of bread dough.
(I am having problems with the form of this post.)
And now for a random thought—at some point in one’s life, a red car? This would not count the firetruck pedal car nor the wagon which both belonged to my brother. Ostentatious? Aggressive? Childish? Or just a sign of pep, vim and vigor?
Three fingers holding a third piece of chocolate
marked by three stripes, to be devoured in a thrice.
(Bonus: three flowers in the stencil pattern)
The number three has been highly subject to superstitions through the ages, none of which I will mention here so as to cease ingraining them in the collective conscience, since we are to abolish all superstition. (“You shall do away with all superstitions,” The Revelation of Arès 21/1)
Gloup. There went that chocolate. If only all the changes we need to make were that easy.
For more entries on the theme of three, go to Picture Perfect.
Here is the small hat now:
The midnight oil doesn’t burn very brightly. As I was knitting along, I suddenly realized I had skipped a row on the chart. Three rows previously! Aaaaaarrggghhhh. I resolutely pulled out the needles, the three rows, picked up the itsy-bitsy stitches and re-knit back to where I had been. Then I went to bed.
This kind of knitting can be addictive. I just want to finish that ribbing so I can see how that pattern is going to come out. I just want to get to where I join the yellow so I can see how that will be. I just want to see how that heart motif is going to look. The pattern becomes a sort of mantra, two one three one two, three, two one three one two, three.
Oh, dear something isn’t coming out right, these be should lined up and they’re not, half a row to take out (I unknitted this rather than pull the needle), I had done a two one two one two. I was writing this blog in my head at the same time.
I made myself stop here as I have other things to do. It’s not raining at the moment!!! Look at this messy garden. I think my friend could use some of that pachysandra that is trying to take over the hellebore’s space.