ŷ������

“A person doesn't try to obtain freedom if they think they're already free.”
― Jasun Ether, The Beasts of Success

“I want to be intoxicated by the darkened ether of midnight, running through my fingers as sparkling stardust. I crave the taste of the ocean's salty tears, as her temperamental tides crash and break against the rocks. I yearn for the sweet scent of sun on my skin and the earthy musk of dirt giving way under my bare feet. I want to lay naked in golden fields, as i gaze up at an endless sky, dreaming my dreams, as Mother Nature's love washes over me like spiritual sunshine.”
― Jaeda DeWalt

“MUSIC OF THE UNIVERSE

Without the orchestra of the universe,
There would be no ether.
And without its instrumentation
By the ether,
There would be no waves.
And without any waves,
There would be no sound.
And without sound,
There would be no music.
And without music,
There would be no life.
And without a life force,
There would be no matter.
But it does not matter -
Because what is matter,
If there is no light?”
― Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

“In the course of my life I have had pre-pubescent ballerinas; emaciated duchesses, dolorous and forever tired, melomaniac and morphine-sodden; bankers' wives with eyes hollower than those of suburban streetwalkers; music-hall chorus girls who tip creosote into their Roederer when getting drunk...

I have even had the awkward androgynes, the unsexed dishes of the day of the *tables d'hote* of Montmartre. Like any vulgar follower of fashion, like any member of the herd, I have made love to bony and improbably slender little girls, frightened and macabre, spiced with carbolic and peppered with chlorotic make-up.

Like an imbecile, I have believed in the mouths of prey and sacrificial victims. Like a simpleton, I have believed in the large lewd eyes of a ragged heap of sickly little creatures: alcoholic and cynical shop girls and whores. The profundity of their eyes and the mystery of their mouths... the jewellers of some and the manicurists of others furnish them with *eaux de toilette*, with soaps and rouges. And Fanny the etheromaniac, rising every morning for a measured dose of cola and coca, does not put ether only on her handkerchief.

It is all fakery and self-advertisement - *truquage and battage*, as their vile argot has it. Their phosphorescent rottenness, their emaciated fervour, their Lesbian blight, their shop-sign vices set up to arouse their clients, to excite the perversity of young and old men alike in the sickness of perverse tastes! All of it can sparkle and catch fire only at the hour when the gas is lit in the corridors of the music-halls and the crude nickel-plated decor of the bars. Beneath the cerise three-ply collars of the night-prowlers, as beneath the bulging silks of the cyclist, the whole seductive display of passionate pallor, of knowing depravity, of exhausted and sensual anaemia - all the charm of spicy flowers celebrated in the writings of Paul Bourget and Maurice Barres - is nothing but a role carefully learned and rehearsed a hundred times over. It is a chapter of the MANCHON DE FRANCINE read over and over again, swotted up and acted out by ingenious barnstormers, fully conscious of the squalid salacity of the male of the species, and knowledgeable in the means of starting up the broken-down engines of their customers.

To think that I also have loved these maleficent and sick little beasts, these fake Primaveras, these discounted Jocondes, the whole hundred-franc stock-in-trade of Leonardos and Botticellis from the workshops of painters and the drinking-dens of aesthetes, these flowers mounted on a brass thread in Montparnasse and Levallois-Perret!

And the odious and tiresome travesty - the corsetted torso slapped on top of heron's legs, painful to behold, the ugly features primed by boulevard boxes, the fake Dresden of Nina Grandiere retouched from a medicine bottle, complaining and spectral at the same time - of Mademoiselle Guilbert and her long black gloves!...

Have I now had enough of the horror of this nightmare! How have I been able to tolerate it for so long?

The fact is that I was then ignorant even of the nature of my sickness. It was latent in me, like a fire smouldering beneath the ashes. I have cherished it since... perhaps since early childhood, for it must always have been in me, although I did not know it!”
― Jean Lorrain, Monsieur de Phocas

“I entrain myself (when I remember to)
by tuning in to higher frequencies
in the ether, in my soul, everywhere I go,
always accessible, always helpful
for obtaining a higher perspective
in a matter of minutes.”
― Jay Woodman

“تنفلت المواد من إدراك حواس الإنسان تدريجياً. لدينا مثلاً المعدن، قطعة الخشب، قطرة الماء، الهواء، الغاز، السعرات الحرارية، الكهرباء، الأثير الكونى. نسمي كل تلك الأشياء مادة، ونضع كل ما هو مادة تحت تعريف عام؛ مع ذلك، فليس هناك من فكرتان أكثر تناقضاً فيما بينهما من تلك التى نربطها بالمعدن، وتلك التى نربطها بالأثير الكوني.
حين نصل للأخير نميل على نحو لا إرادى تقريبًا لتصنيفه مع النفس أو العدم. لا يقيدنا سوى تصورنا عن تكوينه الذرى، وحتى هنا نطلب العون من تصورنا للذرة كشيء دقيق دقة متناهية وصلب الملمس وله وزن. لو دمرنا فكرة التكوين الذرى لن نعتبر الأثير ككيان بعد الآن، أو على الأقل، كمادة. وللحاجة لكلمة أفضل قد نطلق عليه روحانى. الآن تقدم خطوة لما وراء الأثير الكوني - تصور مادة أندر كثيرًا من الأثير، بقدر ندرة الأثير مقارنة بالمعدن، فنصل فورًا (رغم كل عقائد العلم...) لفوضى لا نظير لها - مادة ليست من جسيمات. إذ رغم إقرارنا بالدقة اللامتناهية للذرات، فإن دقة الفراغات بينها هى التى لا تعقل.”
― Edgar Allan Poe

“Screaming love even when I’m ether.”
― Jill Telford

“Once ether was everywhere. The crook of an arm, say. (Also the heavens.) It slowed the movement of the stars, told the left hand where the right hand went. Then it was gone, like hysteria, like the hollow earth. The news came over the radio. There is only air now. Abandon your experiments.”
― Jenny Offill, Dept. of Speculation

“Aristotle's opinion... that comets were nothing else than sublunary vapors or airy meteors... prevailed so far amongst the Greeks, that this sublimest part of astronomy lay altogether neglected; since none could think it worthwhile to observe, and to give an account of the wandering and uncertain paths of vapours floating in the Ether.”
― Edmond Halley

“Death was right on time. He staggered backward on legs of ether. He could see it �� a dark shadowy shape. His stomach turned with terror. What remained of the bridge lighting seemed to be fading away. It was there �� not the frightful illusions the others had seen �� but the thing itself, unmasking itself to its last victim. Somehow the reality was much more frightening. It advanced on him, the rhythmic click of Death. If he were to start screaming now, he knew he would go irretrievably mad. Instinct had left him cold, frozen.”
― Christina Engela, Demonspawn

“Inspiration comes from imagination!”
― Steven Magee

“Dying provides us with the definitive answer to the question: Is there life after death?”
― Steven Magee

“There are serious problems with the ether.”
― Steven Magee

“Einstein understood all material frames of reference to be relative to each other and to have no absolute material frame of reference to condition them, i.e. he denied the existence of the ether. It never once occurred to him that all material frames of reference are in fact relative to an absolute mental frame of reference, namely that of light, the source of the absolute, the frequency source of the spacetime, material world.”
― Thomas Stark, The Sheldrake Shift: A Critical Evaluation of Morphic Resonance

“Light is not something different from thought and mind. It is thought and mind. Light �� thought/mind �� is exactly that which stands outside the material order and causes and conditions the material order. Einstein’s special theory of relativity, when properly understood means that mind provides the absolute conditionality for all material frames of reference, i.e. all such frames of reference depend on an absolute non-spacetime reference frame of frequency (which is stationary relative to spacetime, thus providing the true “ether�� and meaning that we live in an absolute, objective world and not a relative, subjective world as Einstein’s ether-less theory would have it).”
― Thomas Stark, The Sheldrake Shift: A Critical Evaluation of Morphic Resonance

“There’s something in the air, but it isn’t love.”
― A.D. Aliwat, In Limbo

“What is never discussed in standard scientific textbooks is the fact that the Lorentz transformation can just as easily be understood in absolute terms rather than relativistic terms, in which case it refutes rather than supports Einstein’s special theory of relativity. The relativistic interpretation of the Lorentz transformation abolishes the ether; the absolute interpretation preserves the ether. Einstein did not refute the alternative interpretation. No one has. It has simply become unfashionable, and no one gives any thought to it. This highlights one of the central failings of science. It rejects certain theories even though it has not falsified those theories. They have been rejected not on scientific grounds but on philosophical grounds, yet science is always keen to claim it’s not a philosophy but a method. It is of course a method supporting and enacting a philosophy”
― Mike Hockney, Ontological Mathematics: How to Create the Universe

“The land eschews parameters & ghosts find firmament.”
― Sneha Subramanian Kanta, Ghost Tracks

“Mr Tench went out to look for his ether cylinder, into the blazing Mexican sun and the bleaching dust. A few vultures looked down from the roof with shabby indifference: he wasn't carrion yet.”
― Graham Greene, The Power and the Glory

“Snow managed to build his mastery of this embryonic field almost entirely through research conducted in his own home. He maintained a small menagerie in his Frith Street quarters �� birds, frogs, mice, fish �� where he spent countless hours watching the creatures' response to various dosages of ether and chloroform. He also used his medical practice as a source of experimental data, but was not above using himself as a test subject. There is something wonderful �� and more than a little ironic �� in this image of Snow the teetotaler, arguably the finest medical mind of his generation, performing his research. He sits alone in his cluttered flat, frogs croaking around him, illuminated only by candlelight. After a few minutes tinkering with his latest experimental inhaler, he fastens the mouthpiece over his face and releases the gas. Within seconds, his head hits the desk. Then, minutes later, he wakes, consults his watch through blurred vision. He reaches for his pen, and starts recording the data.”
― Steven Johnson, The Ghost Map: The Story of London's Most Terrifying Epidemic—and How It Changed Science, Cities, and the Modern World