computers respond to kindness

as i switched on the computer for work this morning – i’d been on a trip down memory lane on a cup of fair-trade organically grown coffee and i wasn’t quite back yet – i swore at it, my computer, not the coffee, quite nastily for no reason at all, except that i was wanting ‘flow’ and it was being ‘clunky’, and i snarled – ‘bloody hell’ were my exact words if you want the details – i felt the emotional energy i was giving this machine and i was quite shocked, because i realised that ten years ago, before i got into my first computer, thinky his name was, i was always swearing at machines – i thought it was quite an amiable trait in a spunky spirit, well, funky, anyway – but the machines back then had moving parts or wires made of hard substances so they weren’t hurt, dumb brutes they were, while the computer just uses all this energy, and because it is using some of it much as some parts of the human brain use some of theirs, the emanations it generates are comparable to and in some ways similar to the human brainwaves associated with those patterns of thought, and so energetic disturbances generated from the brain and conditioned through attitudes designed to hurt (as in cursing and snarling) are as antipathetic to the smooth functioning of the computer as they are to the health and happiness of human beings.

i think of bose, india’s scientific genius of last century, who showed that life-like phenomena, including the dynamics of emotional qualities, are continuum with the energetics of non-living things. in his sensitive work with metals, he showed that metal fatigue in engines can be ‘healed’ by playing restful music to the machinary, the sort that relaxes bundles of muscle fibres in humans. and yeah, i sing to the ute and it’s getting pretty old but still goes.

i think of dr emotu, who showed us how water responds to the magic of words for ‘love’ and ‘gratitude’ and yes, observable health-benefits abound from using them on tanks and water bottles – improved use of time and space in gardening, energy-efficient layout emerging, greater awareness of sky and responsiveness to the moon and stars and the tides in the earth’s electromagnetic fields.

i make a courteous apology to my computer, sincere in every nuance. i offer her a short speech of praise. i offer her my hand (or should i say, my fingertips) in friendship. we are bonding, putani and i. may the good gods bless and protect us and the good bond of friendship between us, co-workers in the wwwebscapes of the cosmos.

(as in: hallooo marsey! mah! mah! is that your aetherial plane’s www we’re getting ready to connect with? Hang on a moment, i’m being disturbed (please, aunt drusilla, get back into your skull! we’re not ready for all those little windows yet. omigod! here comes the future!) (wrestles dreary old dame back into box and slams down lid – she says ‘oh all right but just remember next time you want anything from me…’. well, i see her point. she only wants to poke about. i’ll get a little plastic skull and glue it between the forks of my wand and she can take up residence in that if she wants it. i’ll even smudge it to saturation in yacca blood for her. best she’s a pencil sharpener i spose. i promise her that – it’s the least i can do. then she can walk about the caravan opening and shutting things and looking out through windows. might shock the neighbours but they don’t have to look. i’ve got a good friendship wand that’ll soothe the scaredest spirit. aunt drusilla can have its skull when i get one for it. it’s only fair she should have it, and she’d do the world much good with it, a wand like that i’ll call it aunt drusilla all for her sake. (firm, warm, lingering handshake – left my hand icy cold. yep, that’s she!))).

but heart-warming as all this may be, there’s more to this meditation. most people who use computers are consciously or subconsciously allowing their computers to condition them in this way against emotional attacking of sensitive energy systems, or doing the kind of damage done by emotionally-energised thought-missiles, because when you’re kind to your computer it seldom stumbles, though it might, as i mentioned earlier, get clunky at times, but as soon as you start driving its work off your own emotional gusts and gushes, you risk spoiling your computer’s best efforts at anything and little glitches start to occur, so it’s worth your while to not lose your temper.

and the enchanting thing about it is that it is conditioning us into being hyper-respectful and very temperamentally gentle, at least in our interfaces with computers, and most of us can readily see, whether consciously or subliminally, the value of applying the results of this bio-feedback in some appropriate way in our daily interactions with the people, animals, and everything around us.

anyway, it’s a relief after how nasty everyone was getting over the past thousand years or so, even if one feels a little shaky about being blackmailed into it by a mere fact of mechanism. can there really be a god of love? or at least a grid of love? or is it a sinister plot, in which certain arrangements of stuff charm us while the aliens take our money, our culture, our country, our languages, our lands, our history, our autonomy, our planet, our spiritual centres, our soul…? (i suppose that’s how most debt-enslaved, shamefully exploited, poor and not so poor nations under the control of foreign interests probably feel.)

whichever, in its favour i must say i sense in it the moral sense of great great great great great great great aunt drusilla, whose discourse on respectfulness along with her discourses on kindness and truthfulness hasn’t changed much in a thousand years. she must have been a druid. well, silla or cilla means kells or cells, and those are druid names for well, kells, cills ceils, hells, hills, halls, sells, sils, sals and all the variants of that word that were in use when those place-names got in to their current forms, all over western europe and beyond in all directions, it was, the little scallywags, colonies everywhere, and dru means, well, nobody needs to ask.

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