Volume 9, Issue 6, page 11

then she's not feminine any more but an erupting
sire. The commas between "Yes, sir, yes, sir,"
are the brief moments of inertia between the
calm of consent to let a stranger come into her
midst and her transformation to masculinity.
The commas between "Baa, bau," is the same
calm of death before the storm of borning.

The master is the extra sensory thing that
masters some creative ability by tying a dame
to her helical mast. The creative fallout from
the zero littleness is "the little boy who
lives in the lane," in the line of the linear
radiations. The one zero end point of immergence and emergence is the "One for themaster,
one for the dame, and one for the little boy."
They are three bags, full to overflowing, and
then the wool is gone with the wind of another
creative fallout. They are all the same one.
"A black lamb foretells good luck to the
flock," but the only good in the luck of socalled blessed events is the good and lucky
lesson one can learn not to do it again. Creation is an inside job, in a zero center,
whereby one is fleeced of his immortal heliocentric wool, whereby one is dyed in the wool.
To show man signs. and wonders is to pull the
wool over his eyes. Death, the blackness that
spawns them, is invisible.

Oddly enough, iron filings show that the
ends of permanent magnets are always woolly
and fuzzy. That's what makes them permanent.
To have wool on the top of one's head shows
that he is not dead.

by all this and put off the experience of illumination. These abilities are not bad, but
just as over-interest in things of this world
(to the exclusion of more subtle truths) is a
drawback, so any tendency to linger at any
stage of unfoldment should be checked.

We should not become enthralled by mediumship or the desire to help or heal others. We
may be led to help others, but we should be
sure that we keep our feet on the ground and
follow our inner guidance.

As to the problem, what shall we contemplate
in the silence -- where shall we direct the attention -- there are several things to contemplate in meditation. One thing we can do is to
practice being aware of awareness. We do not
need a body or a thought or a name or place in
order to exist. We exist as a unit of awareness. When you come to this point of realization, that's all there is to it. It is not a
matter of learning or growing, it is a matter
of proper knowledge. Practice sitting in the
silence and "know yourself". Do not relate the
present with the past. Do not contemplate the
future. Follow your thoughts to their origin.
Step free of ideas, concepts, and feelings. Be
you -- yourself!
Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool?
Yes, sir, yes, Si',-, three bags full;
One for my master, one for my dame
And one for the little boy who lives in
the lane.

OTHER NATURE is an unending heliocentricity thai reacts and reingathers the divided pieces of her straight line radiating,
active, solar spouse. The end of the feminine helix, death, and the beginning of
- the masculine radioactivity, conception,
are one and the same point.

Of her own nature, a helix can never die
out. Her end is a truncation and forever a potentialvoltage. It takes some extra sensory
impurity to impregnate her open helical coils
and set himself up full circle as an erupting
focal point of infection, as a gandering, masculine dead end, beginning another generation.
These interlocking zero twins of an end-beginning, are the I and the Father, the crator
creator, that are one. These twins are "Baa,
baa," and the choice between them is the choice
between the lesser of two identical evils.
Words that break out of a zero mean with the
same sound, have the same root.
"Baa, baa," is the bleating of the black
sheep, death and conception, that is a stranger in the flock. "Baa, baa' is the confusion
of tongues on top of the helical Tower of Babylon, built up artificially by extraneous implantations in order to create the crator creator. The build-up of the black sheep kills
the immortal heliocentricity and transforms
her, thru death, into transient radiations. So
between the twins, conception always chances
to win out.

Wool is symbolic of the curling-in, kinky
coils of the spiraling helix. When the quest
for the dead end crator creator is achieved,
the question arises, "Have you any wool?"
"Have you any automatic screw sense?" Of
course the answer is "No", because all of the
woolly coils have been brought to naught. Yet
the answer is "Yes", because the zero summation contains all the wool. In the automatic,
eternal certainty of the immaculate helix there
can be no doubt. Only when the spiral is lost
in the twin end, does one get hooked up in a
question mark that is a point with a hook over
it. The helical wool has been totally gathered
therein in a fusion that is, at once, a confusing fission. Then the fissionable material has
to again reingather itself unendingly or be reingathered artfully into another erupting end,
totality. Death and conception is wool gathering and that is, obviously, a useless occupation.
"Yes, sir, yes, sir," are the same twin
sires, siring conception by dying out. They
are the gandering, positive male end. When the
feminine helix says." Yes", to an impregnation,
OCTOBER, 1962 The A B E R R E E