“Wondering” is a powerful cognitive recreation and vocation of the searching soul. It is, at the same time the reaction of the sheep, followed by flight. Such a possibly beautiful thing, that it should so closely accompany terror and fear is interesting. An application to this phenomenon is to induce it.

      One could aspire to rouse inspiration to point to an object or item or subject of wonder. All to often it is induced for a synthesis- a synthetic experience of wonder that points basicly only to the synthesis in an unnatural experience. I am not “down” on movies, the cinema or TV, but even in Blaise Pascal’s writings in a day where there were no moving pictures, HE questioned it in another form.

      That form is the oldest form of “moving pictures”- LIVE THEATER. Did you know Pascal, the inventor of the barometer and more questioned the legitamacy and goodness of… stage theater? Yes he did. In ancient times, the Philistines were “reknown for their stories”, and continues the Bible:

       “The fears of their imagination will fall upon them”!

     Now they were barbaric and truely violent and despicable in their time and the Israelites were charged to desroy them. Today we are arguably in a dispensation that differs where God does lean to more patience over judgment. But how does a Creator feel about our violent fanciful cinema? They reflect what we fear and what we really DO! Wow.

        Movies will be produced based upon inspiration and imagination. Do these stories produce good or bad citizens? I mean, reasonably, there is a choice to do what we have seen and imagine. It seems in storytelling, imagination of scenarios can lead to real-life application.

      An example is the book-to-movie writer Ton Clancy. He doesn’t write impossible fantasy like Harry Potter. He writes about the CIA, military ops, the President of the U.S. and current day. Well, Tom Clancy began years back, as requested by the United States Government to be a CONSULT due to his realistic imagination. They value his light and dark thinking as an asset that they wilk pay tax dollars for to provide better homeland security!

      I happen to know for a fact from seeing one airport there was a problem with their perimeter. I think because that is my life and in me characters develop, some of them bad guys to write about. So I actually think about how things go wrong. I e-mailed my local homeland security about the afore mentioned perimeter problem TODAY in fact. I hope they return my sentiment and concession of a major safety advisory to keep that percentage of bad public in check.

      I have that “secret agent” drive. Traversing the ceiling with suction cups or lines, running parkour with pistols, reloading. Ultimate playing of tag. Honestly, maybe we shouldn’t teach kids to play tag and they’d be more likely to pull over than be in a car chase with Johnny Law. I have to confess, I looked for helicopters, noticed the highway in the high desert of Oregon was cattle fences and flat and straight for visibly 5 miles ahead. Impossible to laser speed check and no enforcement, I had never topped out my Mustang. As my wife read a magazine, I upped to 80.

      Smooth and straight. How stable was the ‘Stang at 90 MPH? Continuously. Then 95… 100… At 104 MPH I felt uncomfortable and let of the lead. The speed only creates adrenaline again and that super spike is painful physically. Or else, besides thoughts of safety or a sudden squirrel to distract me for .01 seconds… no, fun’s over. But at 85, that covered a lot of desolate brown red duff plains and sprouty dry scruff plants and rockland.

      True wonder would be to wonder, what if we were there on a day just as hot, but 100 years ago before the highway. The sky would be blue.

Maybe my wife and I would be riding mustang horses, the same direction, wind coming at us to water the horses in 20 miles and camp under the stars where the future rest stop would be. We are NOW amongst that which WAS.
It makes me wonder what the rocks would say, had they had eyes. To tell a smooth story of the lonesome forever of watching days and the same view with little variation. To experience this would be ne plus ultra tedium, yet perhaps all at once a concept of erasure through over exposure, meaningless and relaxed. Sometimes I just don’t want to hear about the next thing or the wonderful thing. I just want to remain in an obscurity of solace in the celestial. Count stars forever and be told their names in an ancient living vocal breeze.

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