the sounds of iao

Mr Dog will explain the most troubling part of this text once we have marvelled over this profound fact:

Being human, we live in both space and time.

Profound only for humans, if even that (and only if you enjoy statements of the bleeding obvious). Canineosophy’s approach is slightly different. Being canine, space ceases to exist if you run fast enough and a true canineosophist has never heard about the concept of time. Everything is supposed to happen now. As for past atrocities, such as baths, it only matters that they happened, not that they are in the past or to be forseen in the future. The horror is everywhere, regardless of space and time. But let’s not get stuck.

It’s about a conference called ‘The good that may become’. (We assume there’s no shampoo in the good that becomes.) Now for the problematic discovery we made (I’m not sure why we haven’t spotted this obvious dreadfulness sooner):

With opportunities to experience the indications that Rudolf Steiner gave to embody the Foundation Stone Meditation, we will also enter into the silent substance of the sounds IAO, in which the whole meditation is embedded.

Do you realize what happens if you add an ‘m’ before the ‘iao’? The implications of this discovery are huge. We don’t want to speculate, but are filled with a feeling of dread worthy of the worst nightmares.


13 thoughts on “the sounds of iao

  1. Ach, being human, we live with both cats and dogs. We focus much on the good that may become, and we run but we time our runs to see how long we took to pass through the space we passed. They might begrudge their common ability, but our canine and feline friends have no time for this: for them the smell of shampoo is everywhere.

  2. Especially in the bathroom, speaking of space. Not that mr Dog sees it as space, more as a black hole that engulfs you, a boundless despair. Every second spent in the bathroom is an eternity.

  3. If mr Dog might only accept the shampoo of respectability. If only we might accept the horror of the unknown. Lucky are the -osophists who have all the answers, who can see the Emperor’s new clothes. The rest of us need to run faster.

  4. Mr Dog says a shampoo of respectability is a contradiction in terms. I’m sure he has a great explanation.

    His horror of the unknown is best illustrated by the bathroom drain. That metal thing covering the drain is his guardian of the threshold. Once it wobbled, and he fell in. True story. That day he knew he needed canineosophy. That being able to run fast was not enough, particularly not in the bathroom were evil humans trap you and force you to face your own darkness. And the shampoo.

  5. For the love of dog! Suds of doom. My sympathy (which weakly strives to smother the laughter) for that traumatised canine. Dogs. Cats too; they will insist on dignity.

  6. Woof woof! Enjoying the moment with some bone chewing right now!

    Yes, falling into the drain was a completely undognified moment. He still watches that metal lid thing with the greatest suspicion. He wasn’t spiritually ready for that experience.

  7. On a different note, and for no good reason (no, definitely no good reason) I’m spending the evening making a cat-apult for my son’s birthday. mr Dog will doubtless prick up his ears at the amusing possibilities here. My son would conscience no such thoughts. He loves his cats and his dog, who cohabit with ill-concealed dislike, catty remarks and dogged chases. It’s really just about parental irresponsibility. The world is full of mischief, so I arm my boys to the teeth with mischievous weapons and tell them to pick on glass houses and the people who live in them.

  8. It is mr Dog’s birthday tomorrow and, reading your comment, he got really excited, screaming about last minute amendments to his wish-list. ‘I want a cat-apult too!’ he yells. I have to find a way to distract him, because, unfortunately, I’ve not made him a cat-apult.

    Amusing possibilities, indeed. He’s *thrilled*!

  9. Oh dear, I’ve caused mischief already. Please say that I will send him a picture of the offending weapon as soon as it’s done for his amusement. Which is not to say I condone what he has in mind.

  10. Single-minded determination, focussed attention: dogged. Kind of admirable.

    My boys’ dog can almost be heard: I know , I know, when I corner it, it will hurt, but the chase, the chase!

  11. The chase is everything; consequences, nothing.

    Mr Dog claims this ability to focus attention — a highly selective ability, like hearing human voices and general obedience… — is the results of thorough canineosophical work spanning over multiple incarnations. I’m slightly skeptical. Just slightly. I wouldn’t want to dispute him, really, he’s too adorable.

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