James Joyce and the Subatomic Quest for the Chalice: The Final Grail of Quantum Identification

  James Joyce, Monalisa, 2012

James Joyce, Monalisa, 2012

James Joyce, Monalisa, 2012

 “I imagined that I bore my chalice safely through a throng of foes”. – ‘Araby’, James Joyce

The Grail Chalice is the outward symbol of man’s final quest for beauty – the beauty that exists in love, and in life- its that enlightening aspect of self-transformation in things. Without it, life is a sordid cup of sorrow, the artist cannot paint the Madonna of the mind or the Monalisa  of the dream. The Buddha is the Christ in the mediation of the cross on the rose of the eternal coin. That coin is the tree of prosperity,the kiss the final wealth to be accumulated by the outpouring of grace – winter harvests the spring of the early descent of the Lord into the monsoon of green vegetation thereby renewing the cycle of life from birth to birth, and from that birth to the rebirth in immortality. The sacred wish is to attain that liberty- the dzochen is the beauty self-preparation for that stage by acquiring the consciousness to enable the process.

Time was the fragment of the stone, Chintamani

Time was the unconscious element flowing in the stream that gives recognition to objects

The quantum wave is the writing on the stone, the scripture of the artist

God whose sacred poetry is the prose of the Stephen Daedalus in the many moments of the light travelling from the point of origin

Sun gods are young in the nubile river of the diction, words afraid of the meta-entanglement are jumping like seagulls into the sea

They cannot see the heavy rock that takes the shocks of the waves transmuting the pain into the litanies of the full moon joy- birth to birth is rebirth and the end is immortality.

To Shambhala, the future is the locked secret of the sweet envisioning

The King can see over the cold Gobi desert

that the world is about to change

as destined in the words of the prophetic oracle

Man is the choice for the next experiment in evolution…

– Joy Roy Choudhury

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The White Stone Images of the After-Light Years in the Free-Will Destiny of Sacred Time in the Alblackica Hours ‘if it were a dream’!

Tribal Art, West Bengal, 2011

The White Stone Images of the After-Light Years in the Free-Will Destiny of Sacred Time in the Alblackica Hours ‘if it were a dream’!

Consciousness-Analogue

Image intercepts images from signal-bound destinies

Raven-rod sparkle the white-dwarf star

From Shambhala to Tibet to Sikkim to South 24parganas, time’s winged-horse pulls its chariot

Om adi om adi-om-adi-chintamani link up matter with true conscious illumination

Hevaya-factor reduced by 1, analogous to motion at rest in motion

Changes reconstitute the new order

Alpha finale of the grand alala

Awakened from the inconscient sleep in a well of waters

Nag-Swarpa saw time’s axis holding the Chalice in the mouth of the great ocean 

Tat-terra-rawat-rawat-un-uni-univham

Son of Man rises from the sea

Words are token adjectives prepossessing nouns in a verbal dialogue

Words are annihilated matter in a crucible of dust

Let the mind bear the terrible light coiling into darkness and into further realms of light-after-darkness

Lines are assimilation of dots in a free space of free-sacred-free-choice

Rivers are talking to the sand dunes, language loves its metaphors

Imaginative qualia before self-dissolution is higher than creational-alpa-Qubit space

Rome in the sarcophagus is the Egypt in San Francisco via train-ether in Shambhala moon domain

And as the Sun shivers in the radioactive lake of the occult stone, the virtual is transposed on the super-real inflammatory matter of justice-light – Thou Art the Sacred Equivalent Food of Micro-Meca-Species

Apples of Cravux Moksha brought gifts to the mother-earth towards undifferentiated light 

I am not I in the anti-I of I to become the I in Anti-I of I

Logic-loop gates are closed, reason is a brisk walk before death/The Apocalypse

Rosy summer awaits the April showers to carry the fallen leaf into the autumn of the winter

And winter is Janus-Opahim Matter of Alblackica in Alblackica

Nadir buk chire rasta sagar mohonay khuje pay prachin prachuryya

Akasher parichay patre lekha achhye tar katha

Sajher alo jakhan sesh takhon samay anadiutsakendrer ei ek path

Macher jale dhara dey kato tara, uki jhuki mere dekhe ar bale “This is the true Primeval Space”- in the after light of darkness when light drank the poison of the earth, she gave her a child who was the Man in the stone as the fire raising his will to meet the impossible possible in the retrograde coordinates of this undefined creation.

Time moves in her own sweet way, her will is the power to meet the future equation of existence-consciousness & bliss

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Jupiter cheers up the Lonely Star http://astrobob.areavoices.com/

Boxet-18, Samij Datta, 2012Chin

Axis Rotation in the South-South Direction ς-6- ς Invisible Range Mass-Meon Orbital Setup: Time Cross Consciousness Alblackica Stone

21-Boxet, Samij Datta, 2012

Axis Rotation in the South-South Direction ς-6- ς Invisible Range Mass-Meon Orbital Setup: Time Cross Consciousness Alblackica Stone

Consciousness-Analogue

Twilight’s arms are rested on the church in the anti-matter of the sky
there are no chairs or pedestals or any alter

The sacred trust is in between the words replicating words as words not words

Non verbal speech act of final destiny

Image dimension higher than normal perception

6-sigma-6 inside yaya-chintamani-yaya chakra

t-shambhala belts walking as it walks in bliss-dorpen-sun

The moon is hiding behind the clouds like a leaf in a smoke of air

Time tells eternity to unlock the keys to the kingdom of paradise

Janus-vivi-afa-afa technopolis of the distant stars shining like a red lotus in the Grail chalice of consciousness (Alblackica, the mother of the secret scion in the golden tube of Helios Sanctorum)

Travidh is Travidh is Travidh

Climbing the feet of the earth and rising to meet the eyes

Time Square = 3/2 milliseconds eating factorial sum of parallel universes

Creations are mreations in the synthetic verse of purple matter poise

Reason cannot feed the spoons that stir your coffee or tea

Nor can the abstract logic of many super scientists on earth

All lost in a game of maze that has no gateway but only turns and bends

Swift step into the air and become the indivisible guardians of immortality

Yera-huyatit-neyunkav α prime position of the shot on β-0 domain of supreme A1 Realism

Dbh789-veta-axo-yurik987 on plabintim circuit of the creation

All’s well that ends well!

-Joy Roy Choudhury