I’m unable to present any sensible explanations to why Poisons and Steel Industry occupied my mind today. I suggest you just pretend you’re not particularly surprised. After all, who can tell why one or another thought comes into our mind and why she chooses to do so in any specific time…actually, this is another interesting idea to ponder about – where is the source of everything what we are thinking? Subconsciousness?…anyway, the other consciousness refuses to make an effort on this idea now, so back to our poisons…
Have you heard of the theory of “The dose makes the Poison”? Basically, this is to say that anything when in excessive quantities is potentially dangerous. (All chemicals are toxic at high enough doses). I wonder if the same works for everything else, not just chemicals we consume in everyday life…Too much of money often change people; too much of power could be real danger; too much of comfort might cause anxiety…there seems to be a threshold in anything humans tend to surround themselves with. And at some point when selfish greed pushes to gain more and more, the more becomes a dangerous toxic blend…In a way we must keep an eye on the levels every time we attempt to fill in voids…simple rule of common sense…[~writes mental note to herself]
The thought, however, begins with the amusement of the fact how by taking the smallest portions of poison, people could train their body to react to the poison in a “positive” way, so that when they “accidentally” being subjected to the assassination attempt, the poison won’t kill them completely, only a little…actually, homeopathy works on the same basis - Like cures Like…the most important issue here is – the size of a portion of whatever you’re having…It is amazing, how we can “train” imperfect us to become practically invincible by having the same multiple times…we do get the desired result in the end…or we do make the same mistakes over and over again…or we die in the process…whatever...
Further on the question of “training”…again, there is a wonderful illustration of how by persistently making something weaker, we actually can end up with something remarkable strong…an Industrial example comes to mind: steel making. Steel is a mixture of iron and carbon. You need to melt iron and materials that contain carbon, such as charcoal, wood or leaves in a high heated furnace then pass it to the smiths, who in their turn repeatedly heated and hammered it until it was stretched and flattened into a blade shape. Have you ever seen the real life swords? Long time ago I’ve been at the exhibition of the Turkish swords…I remember little, except from one ancient sword. He was breathtakingly beautiful – his edge becomes refined to the point when no matter how long you’d stare at him, you never can notice where the blade finishes and the black velvet of the stand’s drapery begins…so thin is the edge…so seamless transition…so difficult to imagine this blade being just a lump of dirty iron at some point of his life…the memories of this Perfect Sword brought to mind ”industrial” poem dedicated to swordmaking:
The steel submits to hammer blindly…he’d crush her flat with no mercy.
And throws her in the arms of others - the ruthless flame, the chilling coldness…
But in the course of cruel challenge, despite resistance, screams and tears,
The real power appears…
Damascus sword is born...
Have you heard of the theory of “The dose makes the Poison”? Basically, this is to say that anything when in excessive quantities is potentially dangerous. (All chemicals are toxic at high enough doses). I wonder if the same works for everything else, not just chemicals we consume in everyday life…Too much of money often change people; too much of power could be real danger; too much of comfort might cause anxiety…there seems to be a threshold in anything humans tend to surround themselves with. And at some point when selfish greed pushes to gain more and more, the more becomes a dangerous toxic blend…In a way we must keep an eye on the levels every time we attempt to fill in voids…simple rule of common sense…[~writes mental note to herself]
The thought, however, begins with the amusement of the fact how by taking the smallest portions of poison, people could train their body to react to the poison in a “positive” way, so that when they “accidentally” being subjected to the assassination attempt, the poison won’t kill them completely, only a little…actually, homeopathy works on the same basis - Like cures Like…the most important issue here is – the size of a portion of whatever you’re having…It is amazing, how we can “train” imperfect us to become practically invincible by having the same multiple times…we do get the desired result in the end…or we do make the same mistakes over and over again…or we die in the process…whatever...
Further on the question of “training”…again, there is a wonderful illustration of how by persistently making something weaker, we actually can end up with something remarkable strong…an Industrial example comes to mind: steel making. Steel is a mixture of iron and carbon. You need to melt iron and materials that contain carbon, such as charcoal, wood or leaves in a high heated furnace then pass it to the smiths, who in their turn repeatedly heated and hammered it until it was stretched and flattened into a blade shape. Have you ever seen the real life swords? Long time ago I’ve been at the exhibition of the Turkish swords…I remember little, except from one ancient sword. He was breathtakingly beautiful – his edge becomes refined to the point when no matter how long you’d stare at him, you never can notice where the blade finishes and the black velvet of the stand’s drapery begins…so thin is the edge…so seamless transition…so difficult to imagine this blade being just a lump of dirty iron at some point of his life…the memories of this Perfect Sword brought to mind ”industrial” poem dedicated to swordmaking:
The steel submits to hammer blindly…he’d crush her flat with no mercy.
And throws her in the arms of others - the ruthless flame, the chilling coldness…
But in the course of cruel challenge, despite resistance, screams and tears,
The real power appears…
Damascus sword is born...