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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EGQ38zfCp7ImA9WhVUGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725</id><updated>2012-05-24T08:47:02.184+01:00</updated><title>Vassago</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1246</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/VassagosBlog" /><feedburner:info xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" uri="vassagosblog" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IESX0_cSp7ImA9WhVUGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-4857138066106525625</id><published>2012-05-24T08:45:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-24T08:45:08.349+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-24T08:45:08.349+01:00</app:edited><title>Think outside the Tesseract</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YpiZt-vO2Ow/T73m8bdG3dI/AAAAAAAAASc/IRIA-dQs1VA/s1600/tess2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YpiZt-vO2Ow/T73m8bdG3dI/AAAAAAAAASc/IRIA-dQs1VA/s1600/tess2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-4857138066106525625?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/4857138066106525625?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/4857138066106525625?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2012/05/think-outside-tesseract.html" title="Think outside the Tesseract" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YpiZt-vO2Ow/T73m8bdG3dI/AAAAAAAAASc/IRIA-dQs1VA/s72-c/tess2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EGQ38zfyp7ImA9WhVUGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-6440413187276399454</id><published>2012-05-24T08:44:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-24T08:47:02.187+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-24T08:47:02.187+01:00</app:edited><title>Tesseract</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gw8jKLk6gJ4/T73mCKmorsI/AAAAAAAAAR8/y1kVXlsXyFc/s1600/tess.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gw8jKLk6gJ4/T73mCKmorsI/AAAAAAAAAR8/y1kVXlsXyFc/s1600/tess.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VQPrPQUaKaY/T73mITG7tgI/AAAAAAAAASE/89CqcilIwEA/s1600/tess3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VQPrPQUaKaY/T73mITG7tgI/AAAAAAAAASE/89CqcilIwEA/s1600/tess3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-6440413187276399454?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/6440413187276399454?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/6440413187276399454?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2012/05/tesseract_7460.html" title="Tesseract" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gw8jKLk6gJ4/T73mCKmorsI/AAAAAAAAAR8/y1kVXlsXyFc/s72-c/tess.jpg" height="72" width="72" /></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MARXg_fyp7ImA9WhVUGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-3614780070829410207</id><published>2012-05-24T08:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-24T08:44:04.647+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-24T08:44:04.647+01:00</app:edited><title>Tesseract</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lu1vszURbPA/T73mQ_3_9cI/AAAAAAAAASM/NCcB7kwlSEc/s1600/tess4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lu1vszURbPA/T73mQ_3_9cI/AAAAAAAAASM/NCcB7kwlSEc/s1600/tess4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oIMu0TfFUAc/T73mshqi5ZI/AAAAAAAAASU/WlSszeUhthg/s1600/tess12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oIMu0TfFUAc/T73mshqi5ZI/AAAAAAAAASU/WlSszeUhthg/s1600/tess12.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-3614780070829410207?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/3614780070829410207?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/3614780070829410207?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2012/05/tesseract_24.html" title="Tesseract" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lu1vszURbPA/T73mQ_3_9cI/AAAAAAAAASM/NCcB7kwlSEc/s72-c/tess4.jpg" height="72" width="72" /></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YDR3Y-fip7ImA9WhVUGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-8652383400029560605</id><published>2012-05-24T08:39:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-24T08:39:36.856+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-24T08:39:36.856+01:00</app:edited><title>omnitruncated tesseract</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tW6IV9shUAk/T73lqvbu_UI/AAAAAAAAAR0/vH7l5IRkz28/s1600/omnitruncated+tesseract.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tW6IV9shUAk/T73lqvbu_UI/AAAAAAAAAR0/vH7l5IRkz28/s1600/omnitruncated+tesseract.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-8652383400029560605?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/8652383400029560605?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/8652383400029560605?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2012/05/omnitruncated-tesseract.html" title="omnitruncated tesseract" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tW6IV9shUAk/T73lqvbu_UI/AAAAAAAAAR0/vH7l5IRkz28/s72-c/omnitruncated+tesseract.jpg" height="72" width="72" /></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YGSHcyeCp7ImA9WhVUGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-289446523268950610</id><published>2012-05-24T08:38:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-24T08:38:49.990+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-24T08:38:49.990+01:00</app:edited><title>bitruncated tesseract</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oa2Wmf3KsVM/T73leB4AvEI/AAAAAAAAARs/4dOkj8KXu6M/s1600/bitruncated+tesseract.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oa2Wmf3KsVM/T73leB4AvEI/AAAAAAAAARs/4dOkj8KXu6M/s1600/bitruncated+tesseract.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-289446523268950610?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/289446523268950610?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/289446523268950610?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2012/05/bitruncated-tesseract.html" title="bitruncated tesseract" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oa2Wmf3KsVM/T73leB4AvEI/AAAAAAAAARs/4dOkj8KXu6M/s72-c/bitruncated+tesseract.jpg" height="72" width="72" /></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYCRH4_fip7ImA9WhVUGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-530979526657506601</id><published>2012-05-24T08:22:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-24T08:22:45.046+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-24T08:22:45.046+01:00</app:edited><title>Tesseract</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qYf-l4a0O1w/T73f5A4BXPI/AAAAAAAAARg/BlLt3G1_g54/s1600/tess1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qYf-l4a0O1w/T73f5A4BXPI/AAAAAAAAARg/BlLt3G1_g54/s1600/tess1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Take six cubes.﻿&lt;/div&gt;
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Arrange them into the shape of a crucifix.&lt;/div&gt;
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Take two more cubes&lt;/div&gt;
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stick them either side of the crucifix&lt;/div&gt;
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at the point where the cross is made.&lt;/div&gt;
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Now you have a tesseract.&lt;/div&gt;
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A tesseract is a 3 dimensional object.&lt;/div&gt;
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A tesseract is also a 4 dimensional object&lt;/div&gt;
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a hypercube&lt;/div&gt;
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unravelled.&lt;/div&gt;
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A square unravels to a line.&lt;/div&gt;
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2 dimensions unravel to one.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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A cube unravels to a cross.&lt;/div&gt;
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3 dimensions unravel to two.&lt;/div&gt;
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A hypercube unravels to a tesseract.&lt;/div&gt;
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4 dimensions unravel to three.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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You exist in three spatial dimensions.&lt;/div&gt;
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In the same way that a one dimensional person &lt;/div&gt;
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could not visualise a 2 dimensional square,&lt;/div&gt;
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or a 2 dimensional person could not visualise a 3 dimensional cube,&lt;/div&gt;
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you cannot visualise a hypercube.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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A hypercube is a thing you are not equipped to understand.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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You can only understand the Tesseract.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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You can see the thing unravelled&lt;/div&gt;
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you cannot see the thing itself.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-530979526657506601?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/530979526657506601?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/530979526657506601?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2012/05/tesseract.html" title="Tesseract" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qYf-l4a0O1w/T73f5A4BXPI/AAAAAAAAARg/BlLt3G1_g54/s72-c/tess1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UGRXg_eyp7ImA9WhVUFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-2017653247731131</id><published>2012-05-21T15:40:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-21T15:40:24.643+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-21T15:40:24.643+01:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">Come to the edge" he said.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"We can't, we're afraid!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Come to the edge" he said.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"We can't, we'll fall!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Come to the edge" he said.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So they came.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And he pushed them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And they flew.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-2017653247731131?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/2017653247731131?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/2017653247731131?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2012/05/come-to-edge-he-said.html" title="" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEFQ3o5cSp7ImA9WhVWEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-4921471500261874292</id><published>2012-04-22T15:20:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2012-04-22T15:23:32.429+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-22T15:23:32.429+01:00</app:edited><title>Your father is your model for God</title><content type="html">If you never knew your father
or if you father bails, or dies, &lt;br /&gt;
or is never at home,
what does that tell you about God?

&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Getting God's attention for being bad &lt;br /&gt;
is better than no attention at all.
&lt;br /&gt;
God's hate is better than his indifference.

&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you could be either God's worst enemy or nothing which would you choose?

&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We are God's middle children
with no special place in history
&lt;br /&gt;
and no attention.

&lt;br /&gt;
Unless we get God's attention &lt;br /&gt;
we have no hope of damnation or redemption.

&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Which is worse
Hell or nothing?

&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Only if we're caught and punished can we be saved.

&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Burn The Louvre and wipe your ass with the Mona Lisa.

&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At least this way
God would know our names.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-4921471500261874292?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/4921471500261874292?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/4921471500261874292?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2012/04/your-father-is-your-model-for-god.html" title="Your father is your model for God" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EEQHo-eSp7ImA9WhVSEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-3933984554736248984</id><published>2012-03-07T16:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-03-07T17:00:01.451Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-03-07T17:00:01.451Z</app:edited><title>The Tell Tale Heart</title><content type="html">&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/XT7k4Wvybe8" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-3933984554736248984?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/3933984554736248984?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/3933984554736248984?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2012/03/tell-tale-heart.html" title="The Tell Tale Heart" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/XT7k4Wvybe8/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QFQn8zfyp7ImA9WhRbEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-3799940028219259950</id><published>2012-02-01T15:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-02-01T15:15:13.187Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-01T15:15:13.187Z</app:edited><title>Genesis of The Fallen</title><content type="html">In the beginning, before the Heaven and The Earth and The Angels, God created Satan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wasn't "The Devil" then, he didn't even have a name. But he could see and touch and think and speak. Which was why he was created in the first place, so God would have someone to talk to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God had a lot to talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He planned to build a golden kingdom peopled by beautiful and kindly angels and far below it would be a universe of stars and moons and planets, all interlinked, all relying on each other like a perfect piece of clockwork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life on planets would be like that too. Animal and vegetable, carnivore and herbivore, ecosystems so complex and yet so perfectly simple that they could never fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stars at dawn and moonlit snowfields, whalesong in the marianas, tiger tracks in endless green, wings so wide that a world could shelter under them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Satan shouted "YES!" until his tears ran through his smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was what he thought was intended. God would use the power He had for marvelous CREATION, never tiring of the variety and depth of beauty He could bring to the Universe, an endless palette, an endless canvass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then God planned to enhance His creation with a new race He'd been thinking about. It's chief characteristic was the replacement of instinct with the grandiose concept of Free Will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a disastrous notion according to Satan. Offer a choice and nine out of ten people will instantly make the wrong one. Asking for trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satan told Him so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God looked at Satan, one eye narrow and one eye wide:&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT did you say!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satan had that plummeting free-fall sensation that only the most exquisite faux pas can bring to a conversation - the dreadful awareness that words can never heal the wound, and nothing can ever be the same again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satan no longer had God's ear. He no longer had any idea of what God planned than His angels did. He was terrified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satan skulked around the Kingdom of Heaven like a wayward infant, expecting his father's voice of Justice with every step he took.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, if you put all your energy into dodging someone for long enough, sooner or later you'll run right into them. Satan found the Great Redeemer squatting in a corner of Eternity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why He gave Humanity the choice, and why He imagined they'd pick Him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why a Loving God would curse His creation with centuries of pain, why a Supreme Being is so enamoured of Free Will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you just think He "moves in mysterious ways".&lt;br /&gt;A child of four can see through that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God knew it and threw Satan out of Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;And he's been falling ever since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that He went ahead with it anyway. The Heavenly Host weren't much more than a dry run for Humanity.&lt;br /&gt;(Look at them now - StormTroopers with haloes.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Down below, Satan's purpose was clear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had to storm the walls of Heaven, to bring sanity to the heart of Creation, and the only way to do that was to raise an army. So he took advantage of the choice that God was so keen on, and offered one of his own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satan cajoled and bribed and threatened and his realm and his soul-legions grew and grew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other Fallen appeared but they were nothing but distractions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On and on Satan went, his eyes forever on his goal, his dream of Earthly Paradise before him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Satan woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The methods he employed had their effect. The tools he used were Lust and Envy, Hate and Avarice. What good would they be in building a better world? What good would HE be? His reactions, decisions, were all based on Hatred.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satan is exactly what The Devil should be - the tempter, the deciever, the serpent crawling in the garden. The Adversary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what did God originally intend him for?&lt;br /&gt;What was the point of someone He could talk to if He wouldn't listen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer is obvious.&lt;br /&gt;Satan was God's conscience.&lt;br /&gt;His Jiminy Cricket.&lt;br /&gt;The little voice everyone gets in their head.&lt;br /&gt;"Come on, don't do that, do this. Don't be nasty. Don't hurt her. Don't have that last drink, get on home. Do the right thing."&lt;br /&gt;That was Satan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So God takes the nagging little whine out of His head and gives it a body. And the minute he steps out of line, that's it. He kicks it's arse for it.&lt;br /&gt;He bars him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So God doesn't have to listen anymore and does whatever He fancies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mortals call Satan "The Devil". It is not a title he minds. Mortals have to call him something after all, but it is inaccurate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satan fell before there were even any angels to become devils, or demons, or whatever. When he got to the bottom there wasn't even a Hell for him to rule. That came later, with Lucifer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satan picked himself up from the longest fall of all, and remembered what he'd seen in the eyes of the Almighty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he wept with pity for the world He had created.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-3799940028219259950?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/3799940028219259950?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/3799940028219259950?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2012/02/genesis-of-fallen.html" title="Genesis of The Fallen" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkIEQnk6cCp7ImA9WhRVEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-7582063526724131420</id><published>2012-01-09T09:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-01-09T09:15:03.718Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-09T09:15:03.718Z</app:edited><title /><content type="html">The first step to eternal life is you have to die...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-7582063526724131420?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/7582063526724131420?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/7582063526724131420?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2012/01/first-step-to-eternal-life-is-you-have.html" title="" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08ASX0yfSp7ImA9WhRXF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-5052730363469240576</id><published>2011-12-24T17:46:00.002Z</published><updated>2011-12-24T19:44:08.395Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-24T19:44:08.395Z</app:edited><title /><content type="html">If you could be either God’s worst enemy or nothing, &lt;br /&gt;which would you choose?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-5052730363469240576?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/5052730363469240576?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/5052730363469240576?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2011/12/if-you-could-be-either-gods-worst-enemy_24.html" title="" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEGRXg6eCp7ImA9WhRXFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-579708704537801474</id><published>2011-12-20T19:48:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-12-20T19:50:24.610Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-20T19:50:24.610Z</app:edited><title>The Day I Met God</title><content type="html">I met God across his long walnut desk &lt;br /&gt;with his diplomas hanging on the wall behind him, &lt;br /&gt;and God asks me, "Why?"&lt;br /&gt;Why did I cause so much pain?&lt;br /&gt;Didn't I realize that each of us is a sacred, &lt;br /&gt;snowflake of special unique specialness?&lt;br /&gt;Can't I see that we're all manifestations of love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at God behind his desk, &lt;br /&gt;taking notes on a pad, &lt;br /&gt;but God's got this all wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are not special.&lt;br /&gt;We are not crap or trash either. &lt;br /&gt;We just are.&lt;br /&gt;We just are, &lt;br /&gt;and what happens just happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And God says, &lt;br /&gt;"No, that's not right."&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. Well. &lt;br /&gt;Whatever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't teach God anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-579708704537801474?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/579708704537801474?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/579708704537801474?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2011/12/day-i-met-god.html" title="The Day I Met God" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkIFSXo9eSp7ImA9WhRXFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-7455979197002610638</id><published>2011-12-20T19:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-12-20T19:48:38.461Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-20T19:48:38.461Z</app:edited><title>We are God’s middle children</title><content type="html">with no special place in history &lt;br /&gt;and no special attention. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unless we get God’s attention, &lt;br /&gt;we have no hope for damnation or redemption.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-7455979197002610638?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/7455979197002610638?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/7455979197002610638?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2011/12/we-are-gods-middle-children.html" title="We are God’s middle children" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUBQXg5fip7ImA9WhRTEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-3410375148472936698</id><published>2011-10-31T18:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-10-31T18:04:10.626Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-31T18:04:10.626Z</app:edited><title>The Magician</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KghJQ5TNyO0/Tq7jFqMGZkI/AAAAAAAAARY/kGdwu4XTqXs/s1600/mag.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 177px; height: 285px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KghJQ5TNyO0/Tq7jFqMGZkI/AAAAAAAAARY/kGdwu4XTqXs/s320/mag.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669718667269924418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-3410375148472936698?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/3410375148472936698?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/3410375148472936698?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2011/10/magician_1013.html" title="The Magician" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KghJQ5TNyO0/Tq7jFqMGZkI/AAAAAAAAARY/kGdwu4XTqXs/s72-c/mag.jpg" height="72" width="72" /></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkcCSXo_eCp7ImA9WhRTEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-6126061683787130049</id><published>2011-10-31T18:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-10-31T18:01:08.440Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-31T18:01:08.440Z</app:edited><title>The Magician</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TsDjr7yeyJY/Tq7iX9XenMI/AAAAAAAAARA/CV-iyv5XxCI/s1600/Tarot_card__The_Magician_by_Zer0s_WS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TsDjr7yeyJY/Tq7iX9XenMI/AAAAAAAAARA/CV-iyv5XxCI/s320/Tarot_card__The_Magician_by_Zer0s_WS.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669717882143939778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-6126061683787130049?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/6126061683787130049?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/6126061683787130049?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2011/10/magician_31.html" title="The Magician" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TsDjr7yeyJY/Tq7iX9XenMI/AAAAAAAAARA/CV-iyv5XxCI/s72-c/Tarot_card__The_Magician_by_Zer0s_WS.jpg" height="72" width="72" /></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQEQXw6eyp7ImA9WhRTEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-527263900787621004</id><published>2011-10-31T17:35:00.005Z</published><updated>2011-10-31T17:48:20.213Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-31T17:48:20.213Z</app:edited><title>The Magician</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yhfg4oNBKsM/Tq7ckeZfSdI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/wLH409tINm0/s1600/150px-RWS_Tarot_01_Magician.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 264px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yhfg4oNBKsM/Tq7ckeZfSdI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/wLH409tINm0/s320/150px-RWS_Tarot_01_Magician.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669711500099406290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Magician, The Magus, or The Juggler (I) &lt;br /&gt;is the first trump or Major Arcana card in traditional Tarot decks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Action — Consciousness — Concentration — Personal power&lt;br /&gt;Practicality — Energy — Creativity — Movement&lt;br /&gt;Precision — Conviction — Manipulation — Self confidence&lt;br /&gt;Being objective — Focusing — Determination — Initiative&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A youthful figure in the robe of a magician has the face of the divine Apollo, the sun god, with a confident smile and shining eyes. &lt;br /&gt;Above his head is the mysterious sign of the Holy Spirit, the sign of life, like an endless cord, forming the lemniscate of infinity. &lt;br /&gt;About his waist is a serpent-cincture or girdle, the ouroboros, the serpent devouring its own tail. The ouroboros is an ancient symbol of eternity, eternal becoming, or transmutation and transformation, but in this case it indicates more especially the eternity of attainment in the spirit.&lt;br /&gt;In the Magician's right hand is a wand raised towards heaven, the sky or the element æther, while his left hand is pointing to the earth. This iconographic gesture has multiple meanings, but is endemic to the Mysteries, symbolizing divine immanence, the ability of the magician to bridge the gap between heaven and earth. &lt;br /&gt;On the table in front of the Magician the symbols of the four Tarot suits signify the Classical elements of earth, air, fire and water. &lt;br /&gt;Beneath are roses and lilies, the flos campi and lilium convallium, changed into garden flowers, to show the culture of aspiration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the Magician appears in a spread, it points to the talents, capabilities and resources at the querent's disposal. &lt;br /&gt;Depending on the card's placement in relation to other cards, the message is to tap into one's full potential rather than holding back, especially when there is a need to transform something. &lt;br /&gt;There are choices and directions to take. &lt;br /&gt;Guidance can arrive through one's own intuition or in the form of someone who brings about change or transformation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The card can mean that a manipulator is floating around, usually if it's reversed. He may be a beneficent guide, but he does not necessarily have our best interests in mind. &lt;br /&gt;He may also represent the querent’s ego or self awareness. &lt;br /&gt;He can also represent the intoxication of power, both good and bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This card signifies the divine motive in man. &lt;br /&gt;It is also the unity of the individual being on all planes, and in a very high sense it is thought. &lt;br /&gt;With further reference to the "sign of life", i.e. the infinity symbol and its connection with the number 8, it may be remembered that Christian Gnosticism speaks of rebirth in Christ as a change "unto the Ogdoad." &lt;br /&gt;The mystic number is termed Jerusalem above, the Land flowing with Milk and Honey, the Holy Spirit and the Land of the Lord. &lt;br /&gt;According to Martinism, 8 is the number of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other traditions this card can refer to scholarly knowledge. &lt;br /&gt;The Fool (card 0) has learned something about the workings of the world and now sees himself as powerful. &lt;br /&gt;Perhaps the reputation of the Magician is derived from the Fool misunderstanding what is happening while the High Priestess (the next card) is looking back, thinking that the Magician is missing the point of spiritual knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some schools associate him with Hermes, especially Hermes Trismegistus, a syncretic Egyptian/Greek figure who is a combination of Hermes and of Thoth, a god of the moon, knowledge, and writing. &lt;br /&gt;In this aspect, The Magician guides The Fool through the first step out of the cave of childhood into the sunlight of consciousness, just as Hermes guides Persephone out of the Underworld every year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He represents the potential of a new adventure, chosen or thrust upon one. &lt;br /&gt;A journey undertaken in daylight, in the Enlightenment tradition. &lt;br /&gt;He brings things out of the darkness into the light. &lt;br /&gt;He explores the world in order to master it. &lt;br /&gt;He is solar consciousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is associated through the cross sums (the sum of the digits) with Key 10, The Wheel of Fortune, picking up on Hermes as a Trickster figure and a god of chance, and Key 19, The Sun, bringing us back to Apollo and to enlightenment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He embodies the lesson of “as above, so below," the lesson that mastery in one realm may bring mastery in another. &lt;br /&gt;He also warns of the danger of applying lessons from one realm to another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Magician transcends duality. &lt;br /&gt;He has learned the fundamental elements of the universe, represented by emblems of the four suits of the tarot already broken apart and lying on the table before him. Similarly, in the Book of Thoth deck, he is crowned by snakes, another symbol of both infinity and dualism, as snakes have learned from Gilgamesh how to shed their skins and be reborn, thus achieving a type of immortality; the blind prophet Tiresias split apart coupling snakes and as a result became a woman, transcending the dualism of gender.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-527263900787621004?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/527263900787621004?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/527263900787621004?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2011/10/magician.html" title="The Magician" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yhfg4oNBKsM/Tq7ckeZfSdI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/wLH409tINm0/s72-c/150px-RWS_Tarot_01_Magician.jpg" height="72" width="72" /></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08GQns5fip7ImA9WhdbF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-4720392321156839423</id><published>2011-10-16T22:13:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-10-16T22:17:03.526+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-16T22:17:03.526+01:00</app:edited><title>I don't know if you've ever felt like that</title><content type="html">That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or just not exist.&lt;br /&gt;Or just not be aware that you do exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think wanting that is very morbid,&lt;br /&gt;but I want it when I get like this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-4720392321156839423?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/4720392321156839423?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/4720392321156839423?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-dont-know-if-youve-ever-felt-like.html" title="I don't know if you've ever felt like that" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkICR3g8eyp7ImA9WhdbEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-2265411657546191533</id><published>2011-10-10T13:42:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-10-10T13:42:46.673+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-10T13:42:46.673+01:00</app:edited><title>Everyone you ever love will reject you or die.</title><content type="html">Everything you ever create will be thrown away.&lt;br /&gt;Everything you’re proud of will end up as trash.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-2265411657546191533?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/2265411657546191533?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/2265411657546191533?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2011/10/everyone-you-ever-love-will-reject-you.html" title="Everyone you ever love will reject you or die." /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMNR3w7fCp7ImA9WhdbEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-3011583887919786767</id><published>2011-10-10T13:41:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2011-10-10T13:41:36.204+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-10T13:41:36.204+01:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">on a long enough time line, &lt;br /&gt;the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-3011583887919786767?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/3011583887919786767?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/3011583887919786767?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2011/10/on-long-enough-time-line-survival-rate.html" title="" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMMQHk9fSp7ImA9WhdbEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-6491919893325686579</id><published>2011-10-10T13:41:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-10-10T13:41:21.765+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-10T13:41:21.765+01:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">The best deeds go silently unrewarded&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-6491919893325686579?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/6491919893325686579?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/6491919893325686579?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2011/10/best-deeds-go-silently-unrewarded.html" title="" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMGSXg5cSp7ImA9WhdbEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-7685860123032859584</id><published>2011-10-10T13:40:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-10-10T13:40:28.629+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-10T13:40:28.629+01:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">If u want to make a omelette, &lt;br /&gt;you have to break a few eggs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-7685860123032859584?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/7685860123032859584?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/7685860123032859584?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2011/10/if-u-want-to-make-omelette-you-have-to.html" title="" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkQAQ3cycCp7ImA9WhdbEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-7740940663960008208</id><published>2011-10-10T13:38:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2011-10-10T13:39:02.998+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-10T13:39:02.998+01:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">Without pain, without sacrifice, we would have nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-7740940663960008208?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/7740940663960008208?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/7740940663960008208?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2011/10/without-pain-without-sacrifice-we-would.html" title="" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04NQXg5cSp7ImA9WhdVGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-777906325971989520</id><published>2011-09-25T16:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-09-25T16:53:10.629+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-25T16:53:10.629+01:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">In the wild you don’t see old animals &lt;br /&gt;because as soon as they age, &lt;br /&gt;animals die. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they get sick or slow down, &lt;br /&gt;something stronger kills them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Animals aren’t meant to get old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our culture has made death something wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old animals should be an unnatural exception.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-777906325971989520?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/777906325971989520?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/777906325971989520?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2011/09/in-wild-you-dont-see-old-animals.html" title="" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08NSH48fCp7ImA9WhdVGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946520520646088725.post-2808064102085109495</id><published>2011-09-25T16:51:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-09-25T16:51:39.074+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-25T16:51:39.074+01:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">Crying is right at hand in the smothering dark, &lt;br /&gt;closed inside someone else, &lt;br /&gt;when you see how everything you can ever accomplish &lt;br /&gt;will end up as trash. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fallen heros ones we love &lt;br /&gt;and even those we don't like &lt;br /&gt;returned to ashes and soap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5946520520646088725-2808064102085109495?l=vassago-vassago.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/2808064102085109495?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5946520520646088725/posts/default/2808064102085109495?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://vassago-vassago.blogspot.com/2011/09/crying-is-right-at-hand-in-smothering.html" title="" /><author><name>Vassago</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07899279483586474442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cxfD_kiQEeg/SUjPtYQRRAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gsvh3pAWtgI/S220/vassago.gif" /></author></entry></feed>

