BLOGS

The Nubian Principle of Nature known as Bes enters the screen as Yoda…

Afro-Futuristic Vision #30

There is not one person from the BioSphere called the Hood who did not immediately take to liking to Yoda when they seen him in Empire Strikes Back. Maybe just as much as they did to Lando, especially since the organized push for urbanites to consume an alcoholic drink named after a gun with the kick of a bucking horse was at its peak about the same time.

If children from the hood were unable to relate to Star Wars after watching the first film because of a lack of cultural identity they were surely able to after seeing Yoda. Yoda the Jedi Master that Luke Skywalker was guided to see on Yoda on Dagobah, who exiled himself to after the Jedi Purge in Star Wars 3 (which came way later although way before).

Yoda, Master Jedi, Brilliant Fighter, Loved by the Children, Simple Speech & Clear Cut Wisdom, Small in Stature & Wide of Spirit…at one with the Force. And although it is said that his image is based on the late Tsenzhab Serkong Rinpoche, I see someone else in Yoda…the cosmic principle of Nature named Bes or Bisu. Now whether George Lucas took the image of Bes and planted it on Yoda…only he knows.
Me, I am going to take you into an AfroFuturistic Journey of Possibility…which may be fixed and naturally calculated inspiration to bring forth Yoda’s expression.

Bes or Bisu the cosmic principle of Nature that more than likely originated with the Batwa or Twa people.  A people who exist in a dimension of expression which causes their height to be no taller than 5 ft. which makes it easier to move around the forest, so you see, they are not short…you are just clumsy. The inhabit Burundi, Rwanda, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo (formerly Zaire).  The Twa are known for their music and dance and hunting and primarily for agriculture (which to me includes farming, pottery, communion of the land through movement and a working knowledge of weather and environment).  Let me stress one thing again, their so-called diminutive size is not an act of genetic faultiness. In fact, it allows them to be closer to the rain-forest and more in tune with how to move through it. Closer to Earth.  Grounded in steps and in accord with the scale (size) of life around them.  As well as being able to dissipate their body heat more effectively…you are the clumsy one when you enter their realm…you are out of step with the force (I will come back to this). They are called religious by clumsy folks because some taller groups of people lack connection to Earth and its processes along with how to communicate with it…so anyone that communicates with it through movement and vocalization more than likely gets tossed into the religion bag.

When man began to shift away from being in–tune with the forces around him, there of course became the ‘Purge’ or ‘Displacement’ of folks who were are one with the Force…I mean Nature. And this dramatically lowered the population of those who stood close to the earth and increased the uprising of external technology…ahem clones…I mean machinery.

Here is a result on some further background of the Twa –

The word ‘Abatwa’ comes from South African’s mythology referring to small human-like creature, generally look exactly like primitive African tribes. In the ancient myth, Abatwa were born from, nature spirit, Vash`Nok’s tear that brust and fell to the earth[2]. Some believe that the word originally allude to the Twa people, also known as Batwa who live in the Great Lakes region of Africa what is now Rwanda, Uganda, Burundi and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, which is more credible because Twa people also have small stature, approximately 1.5 meters or only 5 feet tall[3].

Abatwa said to be the smallest human form creatures that exist in the world, about ½ inch height, small enough to ride on ants and hide beneath the grass blade. They live together peacefully with the ants in the anthill[4]. Although the myth has never mention how they deal with the ants, I think they’ve some kind of antennae similar to ants, so they’ll be able to communicate with ants and other small animals. Ant’s society is very unity and cohesion, they help each other and obviously distribute their duties and I think Abatwa might have an influence by the ants’ social structure including women role in the society. As you knew ants are a hierarchy society that rules by an ant queen and majority of the ant’s population is also female, therefore, I’ll not be surprise if Abatwa’s first president is a woman.

Because of their appearance, some cultures may confuse Abatwa with dwarf or fairy, even though there’re similar, unlike fairy or dwarf, Abatwa doesn’t have any magic power. In fact, they are nomadic with high hunter-gatherer skill. Abatwa are natural born hunter, despite their tiny body and peaceful personality, they can slay their preys several times larger than themselves with their tiny poisoned arrows¹, which is very virulent, it can bring down small animals…

More can be found on a wonderful post at: http://farfromthebest.wordpress.com/2012/06/05/abatwa/

Now moving to Bes or Bisu.

Bes is seen as a cosmic principle (what tall folks call god…lol) of nature that protected the home and children, the expression of music, dance and pleasure. Seen in the homes of Nasuwt (rulers of Kemet/Nubia) and dynamically in the culture of the Twa, especially since Bes seems to be so closely related to them. Bes is said to be imported from Nubia to Kemet. And it is also said that the Twa and others like them, migrated from out the forests into the lands known as Nubia and Kemet and set up shop. Although Bes was cheerful with children, Bes is a fierce fighter able to do battle with Beasts and Man-Beasts (you know demons, evil spirits and beings made by the Umbrella corporation). He carried Tambourines and musical instruments…and sharp swords. He also was seen with ‘magic wands’ and amulets…hmmm. Some say that Bes and Tawret (Mother of Childbirth) were even found in AnkhEnAten’s household and AnkhEnAten was the one who unified all the cosmic principles (Netcheru) into Aten; doing away with individuality.

It is possible that the more warlike tendencies were added on as Bes passed through different cultures. Bes was even depicted with lion ears and tail, being that the Lion was the mightiest creature is some areas of Afrika and being that certain depiction was in the age of Leo. He also appeared on a coin being related to the god Pan. 

Now let’s look at a few things:

Yoda lives in a swamp close to nature after the Jedi Purge

Yoda although peaceful can whip ass when necessary and is skillful with the lightsaber

Yoda has a strong communication with the Midichlorians  (Midichlorians were intelligent microscopic life forms that lived symbiotically inside the cells of all living things. When present in sufficient numbers, they could allow their symbiont to detect the pervasive energy field known as the Force.)

Yoda guides young Jedi in the usage of the force  

Yoda protects and watches over Luke and Leia

Yoda talks in a rhythm and speech reminiscent of indigenous cultures

Yoda’s life-story is shrouded and little is known about his people

Yoda has very little facial hair and ears that stick out

Yoda’s size reflects his close proximity to Nature

Yoda trains young Luke in the Swamp/Marshes out the sight of his Father 

Bes’ origins are from the rainforest

Bes is cheerful however, is a fierce warrior that overcomes disruptive forces

Bes is very close to nature and the lifeforce of beings coming into this world through childbirth

Bes entertains Children when they come into this world

Bes protects Heru in his childhood when he hid in the marshes away from Set (as you can see below, Heru is training for his resolve in face of facets of his physical and mental selves...the reptillian brain...just like Luke above) It is interesting that Bes is right over Heru, on his back, just like Yoda was on Luke's back...

Bes uses Swords and Magic Wands (light-saber) to ward off Spirits 

Bes has ears that stick out

Bes although seen with a Beard originally was without one since most Twa have very little to no facial or body hair. That is a trait more suited for cold weather.

And there is some speculation that the Jedi is based on a group of learned men from Kemet or one man in particular by the utterance (name) Djedi.  Djed being the pillar of Asar and the spine of main. Where the Central Nervous System relays messages through the rest of the body through MidiChlorians…I mean Neural Synapses and Cell Stimulation. The Electrical Current that flows through man.

All this is to say is that there are some very strong relations between certain aspects of Bes and Yoda. I am not saying that Mr. Lucas actually took elements from Bes to create Yoda...but the relationships are very strong with this one…

Welcome to the world of Afro-Futurism and the lifting of the veil…

More to come…

Visit my Afro-Futuristic World at: http://www.djadjanmedjay.com

Tumblr: http://djadjanmedjay.tumblr.com/

Blog: http://authordjadja.wordpress.com

Tag, Post, Share, Like, Re-Blog….Lift the Veil!!!!

Rise in Excellence,

DjaDja N Medjay 

Euro News Sci-Tech: Lighter-than-air material discovered

            Author Jemir Johnson has been working on his crime fiction series
            for a good while. He first did 5 shots in 2007 and his upcoming
            collection is going to be even better.

            I'm proud to be a part of this series and here's the logo
            that we came up with to  introduce the movement
            of this genre to you.  

           Although shrouded in secret for now...
           it will be well worth the wait, with

          all the bells and whistles that one came muster.


           As a brief flash back, here's a link to 5 shots.

        http://www.amazon.com/5-Shots-Jemir-Johnson/dp/0615161405/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1356935427&sr=1-2&keywords=5+shots

Ins and outs. In all four experiments, three photons run through an optical maze like this one. Credit: J. B. Spring et al., Science (2012)

Science: New Form of Quantum Computation Promises Showdown With Ordinary Computers

A cartoon showing spikes of activity traveling among neurons.

Ars Technica: Neuristor: Memristors used to create a neuron-like behavior

L.I.A. #6 – Sandy Wrap-ups for 2K12!!!

MAY WE STRIVE TO EMBRACE LOVED ONES IN A NEW YEAR FREE FROM SANDY WRATHS!!!
http://www.myspace.com/drocksouljah/blog/546585887

AL Bey

Author of Tainted Saint: The Autobiography of D-Rock SOUL-Jah

Boss Lady

When I said:
“All I need is a computer
notebook, and pen
to make me happy.”

He sipped his drink
eyed me appreciatively
and called me:
“Boss lady”

Boss lady?

Definition:
an urban colloquialism
for a sister
who takes care of business
and only needs -- wants --
a man to hold her
in between the times
he’s taking care of business

I smiled,
thought of
all the things
I’ve been called
for my independence
for the temerity
to think I’m equal to a man

Bitch
Ball buster

Funny how a name
can make you feel so ashamed
Akin to calling white liberals
nigger lovers

Boss lady
I like it
It’s running neck and neck
with: “thunder and lightening”

My brothers sure know
what to say
and I love it
when they recognize
that strength

makes a woman real

Valjeanne Jeffers-Thompson copywrite 2007 all rights reserved

This is another poem that I had a lot of fun writing, even more so because it based on actual events. As always, comments and critiques are welcome (smile).

An illustration of a galaxy with a supermassive black hole shooting out jets of radio waves. Image: NASA/JPL-Caltech

Conventionally, physicists have assumed that if the black hole is large enough, Alice won’t notice anything unusual as she crosses the horizon. In this scenario, colorfully dubbed “No Drama,” the gravitational forces won’t become extreme until she approaches a point inside the black hole called the singularity. There, the gravitational pull will be so much stronger on her feet than on her head that Alice will be “spaghettified.”

Now a new hypothesis is giving poor Alice even more drama than she bargained for. If this alternative is correct, as the unsuspecting Alice crosses the event horizon, she will encounter a massive wall of fire that will incinerate her on the spot. As unfair as this seems for Alice, the scenario would also mean that at least one of three cherished notions in theoretical physics must be wrong.

Scientific American: Black Hole Firewalls Confound Theoretical Physicists

If a new hypothesis about black hole firewalls proves correct, at least one of three cherished notions in theoretical physics must be wrong.

By Jennifer Ouellette and Simons Science News

I woke up excited for the first time in fifty years. It was the end of the world.

This time we were certain of it. Scientists confirmed it. I saw it on the news. I got up and put on a nice shirt I stole yesterday. First time I shoplifted since I was a kid. It was a riot going on that day, too.

People have quieted down since the countdown clock has been running everywhere that still has power.

People started setting their watches to the recordings that will interrupt radio broadcasts. Where you can still get radio, that is. My clock was set and reset until scientists had calculated it down to the last second.

The end of the world will be exactly 12/21/21 at 3:33 AM GMT. My pants were pressed for the first time in twenty years. I had gotten out of the habit since my wife left me. Something about my lack of driving ambition. That and the fact she thought I was crazy.

You see, I knew this was going to happen. I told everyone but no one believed me. You wouldn't either but that's okay. At the time, I didn't either. I dreamed this. The date, the time, everything. I just didn't know what I was seeing at the time. My psychiatrist called it a prescient delusion and it wasn't anything to worry about. He said after some therapy I'd be fine. At two hundred dollars an hour, he picked fine time to be wrong.

Until newscasters started talking about it, I admit I didn't even know what a comet was.

Yes, they talked about it in school when I was a kid, but I admit science class was not someplace I admit to paying much attention to, except when we got to cut up frogs and make their legs move when we connected them to batteries. Science, I figured who ever used it anyway.

The first time I had the dream, I was a child. It was a dark, except for fires I could see burning all around me. The city was aflame. The buildings on my skyline were all dark, like a blackout in the summer. I could hear people wailing in the distance. No cars moved, and the summer air was hot, filled with stinging smoke, which would have made my eyes water, if I could dare close them. I look up. I wake up.

I put on dress shoes and tied my tie. I learned to finally tie one four years ago because I went to a job I positively loved. They required a tie and jacket. After all those years working as an unwanted project manager for ungrateful companies, I made it into lower management. That was three years before it was discovered.

My years in the workforce were as monotonous and crushing as everything in my life had ever been. Ill-used, ill-favored, no decision I ever made worked out right, and I absolutely never got the girl. I had been told every man is the hero of his own story.

Don't believe that. We are all extras in some famous person's life. Just ask them. They'll tell you.

Then I had The Dream one more time four years ago. It had been decades since I had it and I knew it immediately. I was walking the street in a nice suit. One from my new job where I was in a position to make changes I thought were important, where my voice was heard and my projects came in on time and under budget. I pushing past people on the street, running to my brownstone. They were all looking up. I knew I had to be somewhere and they were in my way.

I was running out of time. It was three AM and I promised I would be there.

Though there were no street lights, everywhere was lit, with a foxfire brilliance, light, soft, diffused, set people's faces in an eerie glow, shimmering, beautiful, except for the rictus of horror twisted in every face I saw. Mothers holding their children, lovers embracing, people running through the streets holding TVs, their cords dragging behind them.

Despite all of this, the only thing you ever hear is the wind and the weeping. It is a constant thing, the wind. Newscasters tried to explain it but no one was listening. Something about the size and mass of the Comet. People stopped listening once they learned it would strike the Earth.

Doomsday cults appeared like roaches under a kitchen sink, first jubilant their day had finally arrived; then petulant because no one believed them, they had been right. Being right has become so important to some people. Then they grew truculent, dangerous as their righteousness overwhelmed their moral imperatives and the growing realization the end of the world included them. Fortunately, most people simply killed them outright, fearing moral and judicial authorities no longer mattered.

There was surprisingly little violence after people screaming the end of the world from every corner were silenced from a populace grown tired of fear. It was a strange precipitous thing, because it was thought to have occurred all over the world within a single day. I think a subconscious shudder through the collective mind shouted back at them. We got it. The end of the world is nigh. Now shut the hell up.

People slowly tapered off from going to work in the last year. That is where I met her in my last years working, the only job I ever loved.

She was beautiful, not the classical sense of beauty, but in a way I could be comfortable with. Not the awe-full kind of beauty which makes men stupid. A quiet beauty, one that drew me inexorably to her. She was kind even in a world gone straight to hell. I learned she was married and that didn't matter much to me at the end of the world. She came to my house and eventually she took me to hers. Her husband had stopped speaking once you could see the Comet during the day. At night it dominated the sky but once it could be seen during the day, people began to do strange things. His lack of speech was far less dramatic than most. Suicide suddenly became a competition sport.

In comparison her husband Dave, just sat in his living room looking out the window at the damn comet. He didn't talk. Only got up to replenish his drink, go to the john, go outside to get food. He listened to us making love frantically, desperately, in the next room. We made love under the light of the end of the world. I wanted him to be angry. I wanted him to say something. I wanted things to be normal. I wanted to believe we had a future. He never made a sound. Never moved a muscle.

I heard the pigeons on the fire escape in front of his chair fly away. The pigeons were always there and only moved when he did. It was three months ago he got up and staggered past us. We didn't bother to close the door anymore. I can only assume he thought we were sleep, he looked in at us and then he walked out the door. He never came back.

On the last day I wanted to look my best. I told her I was going to go home and change. I didn't live too far away, I thought today would be like any other. People had started staying home, doing very little. No one picked up trash, and it was amazing we hadn't lost water over much of New York. I guess, unlike the garbage men, water treatment found someone willing to work during the apocalypse.

The power went out for the last time in New York at midnight. It was the only blackout we knew would happen. I had grown used to walking to her house, first in the dark, and now in the light at the end of the world.

The people were in place. The roving bands stealing right up to the end. We were all where we were supposed to be. Except for me. A traffic accident I didn't see in my dream slowed me down. Now I would be late. I couldn't be late. I ran. My shoes pinched my feet. I didn't remember that from the dream either. I saw people just staring up. My alarm on my watch went off at 3:20 and I was still ten blocks away. I tore off my shoes and ran barefoot, shoving the statues staring skyward out of my way. No one objected. Most of them didn't even notice me; and to be honest I didn't care either way.

Fires from nearby buildings lit the street as I ran and my eyes watered and teared but nothing was going to stop me from reaching her. My alarm sounded again at 3:30 and I saw her running down the street to me.

She was wearing my favorite white blouse. The one I met her in. So many years ago when I was certain my life had turned around. It was her sad smile that told me I would spend all my life with her. I grabbed her and the smell of honey-suckle filled my nostrils. She was warm and soft. I closed my eyes. I drank in those last seconds. The wind picked up, gusting strongly now, the cries grew louder in the distance, a collective gasp against the coming night. She squeezed me tight.

She turned me and said "Look."

My alarm went off. I looked into the light.

The Light at the End of the World  © Thaddeus Howze 2012. All Rights Reserved

Thaddeus Howze

Hub City Blues

Veni, Scribo, Vici (I came, I wrote, I conquered)

“Is the commander’s shuttle clear yet?” Lian asked, switching gazes back and forth between Grimes and the display tank.
“Not yet, XO,” replied the ops chief. “Our fighters are still tied down with the enemy. His shuttle’s in the thick of it.”
A wailing vibration from an enemy missile that impacted perilously close to the bridge shorted out a row of display screens. Images in the tank fizzled out, leaving a gaping void of black. Instantly, a redundancy kicked in reconstituting the footage.
The behemoth ship covered a third of the display. Like an encroaching storm front, the massive ship’s image soon blotted out everything else in the tank, energy bolts surging forth from its many emitters like strokes of lightning.
A much larger bolt stabbed outward from the behemoth’s center node, piercing the Far Walker’s upper bow. The enormous green-white beam bit into shielding, draining it dry, then cut into layers of super hard hull plating. A seething, powdery burst of atmosphere erupted from the ensuing breach. Like a gargantuan fire sword, the beam thrust deeply into the Far Walker, turning vast areas of its interior into a star’s core.
Two similarly destructive beams ensnared the King and the Gujarat, penetrating each missile frigate on one side and exiting out the other. Charred, blackened debris jetted out of breaches in both frigates’ hulls. The Cane received particularly harsh dosages of the massive beam. Successive bolts burrowed into the troop carrier’s outer thrusters and mid section, shattering its shield generators.

“Fall back!” Lian turned to the pilot. “Try to outflank that ship!”
“That beam ripped through fifteen levels,” Hilburn reported. “We’ve got massive internal damage!”
“I’ve sourced those beams’ output,” said Weapons Specialist Domos. “Targeting!”
The XO extended a forestalling hand. “Belay that, Fahid. I’ve got something else in mind. Prepare Judgement One missiles.”
Domos tossed the XO a wary glance. “For a J1 launch we’re going to have to put distance between us and the target.”
The pilot, Janet Kiowa, adjusted controls. “Increasing fall back speed.”
“Tell the Task Force to clear the target zone,” ordered Lian.
Domos tapped a console key with a grim finality. “J1 is online.”
“I want every ship to implement a mass launch of lower grade missiles to screen the J1’s approach.”
Grimes acknowledged and disseminated Lian’s order to the task force.
Lian stepped closer to the display tank, barely suppressing an urge to cough from the hazy acridity of damaged, overloaded consoles. She fixed pitiless eyes on the dreaded behemoth, and a spirit of vengeance coiled enticingly around her heart when she snapped the next command, “fire!”

Clouds of Flail and Terror Rod missiles from every ship in Task Force Arrow descended upon the massive Erekdenit vessel.
The behemoth threw up a howling wall of point defense fire, wiping out a host of incoming missiles. Numerous task force missiles, nevertheless, broke through a gleaming barricade of enemy fire to smash into their target. Miles upon miles of the behemoth’s hull boiled beneath a restless, gaseous ocean of multiple missile eruptions. A slower moving J1 plunged into that searing ocean, detonating upon contact.
The J1’s explosion breached the target’s hull, channeling tremendous anti-matter laced forces into its interior, before whipping outward in a secondary blast that dislodged enormous chunks of dense hull.
The behemoth listed severely, its batteries silenced as large pulses of chain reactions assaulted its mighty framework, tearing it apart.
A collective pause seemed to come over the remaining 14 Erekdenit ships as their crews witnessed the death throes of their lead ship.

Lian smelled blood and swooned in its headiness. “Target the heavies and mediums with J1s and open fire.”
Eight J1 missiles, hidden beneath a blanket of screening fire, struck the behemoth’s medium and heavy companions. Individual blast waves from eight explosions merged into a single, moon size spatial disrupting wave that swept over the Task Force ships like a tsunami. One of the heavies broke in half, one segment consumed in a blazing aura, the other plummeting toward the planetoid’s surface.
A fiery typhoon consumed a large swathe of area where the segment impacted, producing a florescent crater that marked the planetoid like a glowing red eye.

NASA: NASA Science

Unrivaled control of a robotic arm has been achieved using a paralyzed woman's thoughts, a US study says.

BBC News: Paralyzed woman's thoughts control robotic arm

The last week in December, PAnd0RA 001 returns as your Holiday gift to brighten your travels through deep space! 'A Broken Jar' sees the vivacious android confront both her growing popularity and her obsessive attraction to the strange unmarked Transport BOX secured aboard the Interstellar Transport DROMEDARY. Meanwhile forces to retrieve the BOX and insights PAnd0RA will need for her development are moving to converge on her upon the Dromedary's arrival in the HESTIA system. Questions will be raised and answers will be given but will anyone involved be able to handle them? Much will be revealed in the next episode of 'The PAnd0RA Ultimatum'!

“The Good Old Days” part 2: the world IS getting better

Every time you are shocked or dismayed by something you see people undertake to do to other people, remember that not long ago, you just wouldn’t have heard, seen or read about it. The fact that so many think the world is getting worse is a sign that it’s getting better; we’re trying harder, pulling away from the old norms, including more people in the fabric of society.

For the first time in human history, the concept of inalienable rights actually is somewhat broadly considered to apply to all categories of human being. Its application still lags well behind its ideation, but at least all draft-eligible Americans can vote now–it cannot be forgotten that that has not yet even been true for fifty years!!! We are shocked and dismayed, as more of our old assumptions are brought to the ground; this dismay represents progress, as more people are brought into the fold of basic human opportunity. The best we can do, any of us older than preschool age, is thank ourselves for every way in which we’re free from the poisonous crap that’s been drummed into us from birth. We are products of a poisoned world, a world where people are defined by ridiculous parameters and not taught to see each other as individuals; where violence as instruction is taken for granted, and wars last for astounding lengths of time: where people collude to exclude others from citizenship for reasons as preposterous as skin color, genitalia or inherited religion. Where bullying, humiliation and authoritarian punishment are rites of passage.

Fortunately, the grand scale of human-on-human atrocity is actually getting smaller, as the world shrinks and we increasingly realize that, as it was once said, ‘an explorer from another galaxy would find us all very much alike’. We have to remember that, and remember that the only hope for our wretched but brilliant species lies in its future.

Artist's impression of a protostar, with its jets of outflowing matter, protoplanetary disk, and envelope of gas and dust. NASA/JPL-Caltech/R. Hurt (SSC)

Ars Technica: Astronomers discover youngest protostar yet observed, Matthew Francis

It is hard to design a dwelling, especially to project into the future. You have to decide to embrace the present building codes and area architecture and orchestrated consumer wants or cut new turf. For instance the one room cabin soon evolved into one family room and a master bed chamber. The fireplace was the kitchen. Now each family member deserves a bedroom or mini-apartment and every room is big. Glamor, elegance, prestige, status, the display to neighbors that either I have made it or I am important is evident.

Many rooms are designed around activities. Formal dining rooms with individual eatery, ample shoulder separation and ostentatious junk jewelery chandeliers suspended like the sword of Damocles, chairs hard and straight and Emily Post worship. That was the scheme even with our crowded family table, messy kids, finger foods and more modest display. This beats eat where you sit and sleep where you drop, it's a more civilized arrangement. Africans families when I seen them in the magazines shared a pot of communal stew. Though their eating was orderly and practical they soon also succumbed to Emily Post.

Designing the future is hard because we don't often view the details like when Superman makes a potty run does his cape get in the way? He rushes to his next call with toilet paper stuck to his boot. In the Star Wars saga the young Vader has a fruit meal with his beau, so human, unlike Jar Jar Binks whose spaghetti whip tongue is faster than you can say "pass the........" Tatoone dining where Luke's Aunt swears by her nuke powered food processor, even they sit at a table. My dreams go back to "Lost in Space", where they lived in a RV and had an ATV or Space 1999 and their environmentally sound moon base on an drifting asteroid (NASA likes that episode).

So why the future, why the techno hut? Because most of us live in homes we didn't make for ourselves by people who had dreams and standards that didn't regard how we think and desire and live. We check out the place and adapt. We adapt within certain parameters and are driven to satisfy ourselves and showoff to others. National Geographic ran a photographic series that showed families sitting amongst their material possessions from different parts of the globe. That was totally interesting. Today I drive by homes and see garage doors open and packed to the hilt. We put puffy furniture in a small room and complain about no space and awkward comfort. I laughed at Thomas Edison's house (so small) and at ancient homes in Africa, we are so advanced, NOT!

The techno hut has four parts. The private space for sleeping and bath, food storage and prep, utility room and the common space. Present homes maximize everything. Eventually you can't economically support the home and each family member is isolated in their own personal compartment. The individual autonomy is exaggerated in this culture, where as in African culture both autonomy and family blend in a good proportion. This consideration reflects in the arrangement of the architecture. Talk about fractals, the individual and the family and the hood have the same look and feel. The home accommodates that in a practical way. For instance we need huge powered food storage when food is bought for the long run. Not so big when markets are local and the habit is to consume while fresh. We spend so much time working and have no time for hunting, gathering, growing and preparing, we consume ready to eat packaged meals and fast foods, so we don't need a big kitchen, do we?

The physical body is not as advanced as people think. That capsule that contains every chemical needed will fail because the body has to push through some bulk, because that is the way the body is made. Super mental means nothing to blood in the arteries and a pumping heart. A man must poop something. A home can be just a force field, but to cover the butt, can I get some privacy please? So to me the most advanced techno hut is probably the simplest that makes survival in an environment practical. First provide the basics, food, heat/cool, light, water and waste removal, then some free  space. Yeah, we can jazz it a bit.

Hey, folks.  

I'm looking for some readers for my work, so I can have some critiques.  In exchange, I can do critiques of your work.  Please let me know if anyone is interested, and I will post a few excerpts.  Thanks a million!  

-Brandon

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Physics World - How ULAS J1120+0641 may have appeared

Physics World: Ancient gas sheds light on universe's first billion years