Dinesh's photos

Today, it's hard to imagine computer owners in the United States and other developed countries abandoning for thin clients. { www.igel.com/us/ } Many of us, after all, have dozens or even hundreds of gigabytes of date on our personal hard drives, including hefty music and video files. But once utility services mature, the idea of getting rid of your PC will become much more attractive. At that point, each of us will have access to virtually unlimited online storage as well as a rich array of software services. We'll also be tapping into the Net through many different devises, from mobile phones to televisions, and we'll want to have all of them share our data and applications. Having our files and software locked into our PC's hard drive will be an unnecessary nuisance. Companies like Google and Yahoo will likely be eager to supply with all-purpose utility services, possibly including thin-client devices, for free - in return for the privilege of showing us advertisements. We may find, twenty or so years from now, that the personal computer has become a museum piece, a reminder of a curious time when all of were forced to be amateur computer technicians. ~ Page 80 - 81 (BIG SWITCH)

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Bohm In the late 1970s, another physicist stepped up to the plate, bearing credentials that made Capra look like an undergrad by comparison. David Bohm had done his graduate work at Berkeley under Oppenheimer and taught at Princeton when Einstein was on campus. He was also influenced by his two-decade-long dialogue with J. Krishnamurthi. Bohm theorized that the domain we think of reality, with its separate objects and events, is actually enfolded within (and unfolds from) a realm of unbroken wholeness in which everything – all of matter and all of consciousness – is simultaneously connected to everything else. “The sphere of ordinary material life and sphere of mystical experience,” said Bohm, “have a certain shared order [that] will allow a fruitful relationship between them” Bohm theory evoked a compelling image: the hologram, in which each piece of the whole is mirrored in every other piece. Another Vedic visual now came into use: Indra’s Net, a vast network of jewels, each of which reflects the image of all the others. Throughout the 1980s, as Reagan reigned in Washington, conversations about the “holographic universe” and the “holographic paradigm” ranged over a variety of disciplines. Many of the participants had been influenced by Eastern philosophy, and now their ideas were heard by the public. ~ Page 287/288 (American Veda – Philip Goldberg)

Bring me the sunset in a cup, Reckon the morning's flagons up And say how many Dew, Tell me how far the morning leaps— Tell me what time the weaver sleeps Who spun the breadth of blue! Write me how many notes there be In the new Robin's ecstasy Among astonished boughs— How many trips the Tortoise makes— How many cups the Bee partakes, The Debauchee of Dews! Also, who laid the Rainbow's piers, Also, who leads the docile spheres By withes of supple blue? Whose fingers string the stalactite— Who counts the wampum of the night To see that none is due? Who built this little Alban House And shut the windows down so close My spirit cannot see? Who'll let me out some gala day With implements to fly away, Passing Pomposity? Emily Dickinson

One Evening On a frozen pond a mile north of Liberal almost sixty years ago I skated wild circles while a strange pale sun went down. A scattering of dry brown reeds cluttered the ice at one end of the pond, and a fitful breeze ghosted little surface eddies of snow. No house was in sight, no tree, only the arched wide surface of the earth holding the pond and me under the sky. I would go home, confront all my years, the tangled events to come, and never know more than I did that evening waving my arms in the lemon-colored light. -- William Stafford

They stole my mother’s silver, Melted it down, perhaps, Into pure mineral, worth Only it own weight. We must eat with our hands now, Grab for food In this new place of greed Our table set Only with memories tarnishing Even as we speak: Serving the broth To children who will forget To polish her silver, forget even To lock the house. Where forks and spoons are divided From all purpose, Patterns are lost like friezes After centuries of rain, And every knife is robbed Of its cutting edge. “Burglary” ~ Linda Pastan

'Twixt a smile and a tear, 'Twixt a song and a sigh, 'Twixt the day and the dark, When the night draweth nigh. Ah, sunshine may fade From the heavens above, No twilight have we To the day of our love. ~ Paul Lawrence Dunbar

Dew whitens the jade stairs. This late, it soaks her gauze stockings. She lowers her crystal blind to watch the breaking, glass-clear moon of autumn. ~ Li T'ai-po

A peels an apple, while B kneels to God, C telephones to D, who has a hand on E's knee, F coughs, G turns up the sod For H's grave. I do not understand But J is bringing on clay pigeon down While K brings down a nightstick on L's head, And M makes mustard, N drives into town, O goes to bed with P, and Q drops dead, R lies to S, but happens to be heard By T, who tells U not to fire V For having to give W the word that X is not deceiving Y with Z, Who happens just now to remember A Peeling an apple somewhere far away. "A Premier of the Daily Round" ~ Howard Nemerov

One leaf left on a branch and not a sound of sadness or despair. One leaf on a branch and no unhappiness. One leaf left all by itself in the air and it dose not speak of loneliness or death. One leaf and it spends itself in swaying mildly in the breeze ~ David Ignatow

Under the snow the secret Muscles of the underearth Grow taut In the pain, the torn love Of labor. The strange Dazzled world yearning dumbly To be born. ~ Galway Kinnell