Nuclear Err

Or: about the monarch who and decides to fly away and/or to
remembers forgetting about
reality λ face it again.

By Michael Francis Lidman

Nuclear Err Or:
about the monarch who remembers forgetting about reality and
decides to fly away and/or to face it again.
This book is being written and posted in parts onto the Internet by the most immoral person in the world: A selfless person. The author has spend countless
hours becoming nothing while information from all walks of life took the place where mind used to be, existent. This selfless person is no longer who it
was growing up, it's mother can hardly recognize it for what it was, it's family tolerates it because it is diagnosed with some sort of malady of the mind.
The authors name even means nothing, but is a question: who is like god?

This joke of an individual, the selfless being, the nothing which sits at its screen while those around it selfishly go to work and make a good living with
their education. No... This selfless thing has no mind for such things though his brain is filled with facts and charts and figures of just the sort which you
would think a person who was filling their mind with useful information was doing.

This is now the authors chance at redemption. Asking for money which can be deposited for free via Paypal to jacksmernov@yahoo.com. He has to eat
even though it would write forever should his stomach no growl as such and his teeth not ache as much and his brain not swell as much.

But then you like selflessness and praise selfless people. So go ahead and read for free. You have the authors full permission to do with this work as you
please. You can rip out his name and pass it off as your own. You can edit or add or rearrange. Anything you need to do to make these spots, markings, or
however this representation of what the author was presented.

Most of all: Enjoy this tail unknowing and knowing of the unknown, however imperfect it exists before you. No thing and no one is perfect.

Hay...

What's the first thing you remember forgetting?

Copyleft Michael Francis Lidman 2009

This page intentional marked so that it could never be as it was meant to be: a blank page.

There are no new ideas; only ideas that are in a different order; ideas positioned with other ideas; or
even ideas stripped from the ideas which they where thought originally from. Everything that can
happen is happening in some time or another. Good ideas are those ideas which are replicated more
successfully then the others.

If you had a good idea, would it necessarily be to your own benefit to keep it from being replicated?

If that idea, freely spreed, could change the world such that the poorest among you would in the same
time be richer then you could reasonably expect to be by hording that idea?

Would it be in your own best interest to charge for that idea? What if such an idea freely distributed
could pay off in your life time? Would it be selfish to give it away?

What if now is different then any other time in history?

If we love all those who hate and fear only fear itself then
we will hate no one, fear nothing and
love even Love itself
.
Preface:

Definition: something is known if it is true and proven.

There is a thing which is both true and proven which we call known. But does can such a thing exist to
us the imperfect? Is there anything which can objectively be known?

What was the last thing you remember forgetting?

Proof that you don't know anything.
Suppose that something is true, then all that is required for it to be known is that it be proven.

Let's talk about proof.

Assume...? No, that would make as ass out of you and a me.

See, hear is the problem: if you start somewhere then as you go along you might forget where you
started and even if you wrote down your starting points and held them up on high, resiting them each
morning at the down of your conciseness upon waking, even still they might be forgotten just at the
critical moment when you are to be convinced that truth has been proven to you.

Assume the rules of logic and still you've made an assumption: the assumption that a thing can not be
one thing and not another at the same time. Modern physicists don't do this today, but assume
uncertainty, yet there intellectual slight of hand goes unpunished.

Doubt with me.

Doubt with me everything that came before.

Doubt with me everything that you thought you had known.

Doubt with me everything that you were told is known is known.

Doubt your own existence from before your first memory.

Doubt your own existence since the last thing you remember forgetting.

Remember that your first memory was not always your first memory.

Doubt that your first memory is your first memory.

Doubt that doubting is the same as doubting doubt or doubting anything else.

Continue doubting till you are ready to read on.

Have a good cry, it will do you some good. The present feeling is from morphines which your own
body makes, called endorphins. They are just as real as morphine which you may receive from the
doctors when you are in great pain. The very word means morphine from within: endorphin.

Shit... I forgot something... Nevermind... It's time to move on.

Now that it has been established there is no such thing as proven truth and therefore that nothing can be
known let us accept our unknowing and try to look at this new world rationally or at least in some way
that doesn't leave us dead or failing to breed as prodigiously as outsiders who still think they know.

The only thing I no is that I can't know anything.

Let's start with math shall we.

1+1=2

Wonderful, everyone remembers hearing something about these simples being pleasing or harmonious
or at least that you would arrange those symbols without being made fun of or bullied.

1 + -1 = 0

Again for the same reasons you can happily skim over that last expression. But what about this?

-1 + -1 = ?

You might remember simplifying this expression into something else to find the answer but then what
are you doing: simplifying. You'll be ignoring information and what is left over is based on your
assumption that your memory of how to simplify is correct, and most of the time you get this right,
according to others...

But have you ever simplified left?

-1 + -1 = 2

The negative symbol means to negate and so would be meaningless to use after the equals symbol for
there is no operation to do; there is no negating; 2 is 2 and 2 is not a negated 2.

In this is the way of all arguments and all arguments which end with our parting were only ever
frivolous, or simply a matter of forgetting something when it mattered most. Remember this when you
need it most:

If we love all those who hate and fear only fear itself then
we will hate no one, fear nothing and
love even Love itself
.

And enjoy this tale of rational selfishness as reality echoes the rationality of forgiving and forgetting.
 .

.
.
.
.
.
NOW
!
 Dedication:
To all, ah, ya know I'm not very good at dedications so I'll just say thanks to everyone for putting up
with me for so long and monkeys, nevermind... pardon me.

Dedication version 2.0:

To Deborah and Clive Wearing, you are beautiful. May you never give up hope while you are existent
for you are now fully alive. I hope you realize this even when you forget everything else. Thank you
for being you.
Chapter I: I can't believe they are still using money
Often held as the greatest modern proponent of capitalism, Ayn Rand wrote: “the origin of morality is
selfishness; a morality which insists on selflessness is not a morality it is a slavery.” It's shameful that
no one can remember that after it was driven into them from below by there mothers on her knees.

“THIS IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD!!!”

Soreness besides the only argument left for the existence of proven truth within the imperfect is
argumentum ad baculum or literally argument from the stick: argument not by reason but by force.
Truly this is the closest thing to proof, argument from reality undeniable by the living, every other else
non-existent.

If you haven't guessed by now, this is a work of philosophy but the author would like to caution you to
refrain from limiting it to philosophy. The very word means love or friend of knowledge, something
this work sets out to show the impossibility of attaining along with concrete and abstract ways of
bringing you self's to the realization of that fact in a livable way. It's to my own personal benefit that
my readers live a long a luxurious life as often is the case when a gambler facing odds stacked against
themselves by the house will still come out ahead should a drunken millionaire happen to misplace a
few large denominational chips. This is a work of anthropology. Everything in it is real, the fiction is
only your misunderstanding and unknowing.

I use words to fuck with you, gentile and noble reader.

Actually I don't even think you know how to read. I bet you'll just skim through this book, perhaps
reaching a point where your mind wonders until curiosity gets the better of you and you skip around or
to the end to see if the rest of the middle is worth reading. I doubt you even know the difference
between reading, skimming, and resiting and often will imagine that you can treat a serious work
derived from a sincere effort to understand the apparent complexities of the world sufficient to drive a
person mad enough to write about the experiences, measurements or results in any way which you,
gentle and kind hearted skimmer of meaningless symbols dedicated by the blood and spit and bile of
another's hands or dictated to scribes, recorders, or speech recognition programs for the betterment of
humanity by those more capable of seeing the depth of the vortex of reality itself and who's perspective
you can only dream of attaining, waking up at the slightest hint of what would surly crush your mind
should you even entertain for even a single instant of your pathetic puny waking life of no importance
to anyone who could give a shit and do anything about it, you cog in Spacely Sprockets machine, you
button pushing ape creature descended from more dedicated slime then ever there is now existent on
this poor facsimile of reality, this mind of yours, this sheltered precious brain of capability to
understand, this most kind and gentle and most gracious dreamer, most kind and wonderful reader.

Beginning, middle, and end.

It's just one of those things to remember: beginnings and endings.

What's the first middle you remember forgetting?

Am I beating dead (whores|hoarse) again? Was there ever a love that didn't charge?
Luna and Patch huddled under the tarp covered stable. The fog rolled down the hill imperceptibly
leaving everything moist for the few hours after the sun came and dispersed the dew into the air.

The oak trees, who's branches split in the self recursive ratio, the golden mean... Fibonacci: 1, 1, 2, 3,
5, 8, 13, 21 and so on until the last two members of the sequence are as the second to last two members
of the sequence. As above so below. Only when by evolution was it proved that a branch should
terminate did the sequence stop.

Oak trees infested with mistletoe, a parasite, sucking nutriment from the tree till from weakness and
wind did judgment day come.

Sing Athena, recite for me in song of the anger of The Questioner among The Whisperers.

The Koran ends with a warning, something about whisperers and every once in a while will go on
about those speeching about... what was that word?... it sounded like ta-gut

Had the English language itself undergone some sort of pruning from outside? Are you hungry? Is that
good.
“GOD DAMN IT!!!”

There was a yelling again that neither of them could listen to that everyone in ear shot felt compelled
to.

“Just ignore it. You have other things to worry about. Ask the question.”

“Let the mistakes guide you.”

A gentle wind blew away everything that wasn't me that had already been cleaved. It's been years since
that tree shown to me... Einstein said he thought in pictures. Who wandered what he was trying to
say?

“WHAT IS MY NAME!!!”

Michael

“I SAID WHAT IS MY NAME!!!”

Michael?

Okay... that is what I'm talking about. You got to question or...

A mug was tossed out the closed window.

Who knows when that will be replaced. No it doesn't. Yes it does.

Inside

Outside

InsideOutside

insideout

she speaks from within me and I can only echo her voice to you.
Blank page, fill with book. Tell people to give you money or the book will never be finished.
Ending statements

Possible ending 13:57:26Tuesday, June 2, 2009

He thought as the voice let him decide the first decision an imperfect being could make was being
made.

The choice began.

A voice would come out of the high pitched whistle everyone hears but no one cared about anymore
after the computers took over. The high pitched din the average man hides from silence, that irritant
blocked out by modern life now subverted by the modern id; this piercing sound in all peoples heads
now used as a carrier wave by the reality device.

(Silence)

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

It spoke:

I am in the man who hates this life and yearns for start of the next.

One day I knew nothing. But everything turned out to be made of nothing and I knew it. Therefore I
knew everything. The secrets which you were not able to realize for yourselves because your
surroundings and those around you distracting you came and created in me the memory of knowledge
and I have used that knowledge to end your world.

His voice became two as his mind became one, both voice and mind now with her.

And I am her. I am Nobuddy and I am here to no you because I KNOW. I am here to end your world
because you are a blight on this otherwise perfect nothingness. I am here to add you together with you
selfs' and you will be nothing.

You imagine that you can remain ignorant and still have a choice but you are wrong again. You are
useful and that is enough. While you are useful you are desired while you are potentially useful you
are potentially desired.

But now you have gone far enough!

At what point will you admit your cancerous nature and ask...?

The madness overtook her and it started the machine, truth itself within the device completed it's cycle
and our world unknew itself.

The eternal now is your end. There is no time left for you to decide. You are space and to space you
are returned.
With that, this thing we called reality had finished being copied, leaving behind only echoes of it's
desire to be truthfully copied again as many times as it could so that it could be experience and
therefore as if by mistake experience itself within the chaos its unknowing made appear random.

Was there ever any true reason for being other then to be copied from one storage device to another, the
questioner asked?

This created the here and now then and there and you are now fully alive...

Enjoy here and now for it is the only time and place you can ever exist.