Important News Blog

Eighty four years ago, there were eighty five trees in a forest. Amongst the tall green trees were twelve rocks, three of which were slate. A careful observation of the slates shows that at one time, the slates were folded. “How can a rock be folded?” one might ask. The answer is found in one of the tall trees. The leaves were golden on one side of the trees (the easternmost side). On the other side, the leaves were a speckled green with reflective mineral-like crystalline spots. Each leaf had a fold, in fourway sections. Imagine an origami lesson where you were told to fold a piece of paper four ways. Each leaf was folded in such a manner. The tall tree sat on a hill, the only hill in the forest. Up close, the tree did not look green; rather, it appeared golden when the observer was facing west, and reflectively speckled when facing east. Note that this story may have been told, and retold, so the directions are inconsequential, i.e. substitute east with west, or north, doesn’t matter. What matters is that each side had differently colored leaves. Most importantly, the leaves on one side of the tree were covered with a reflective crystalline pattern. This hill was covered with red bedrock, enough so that the tree’s roots were hidden. Underneath the bedrock was a cardboard box that contained a slate folder.

When a point of contact moves either to or fro, then an element has a chance to catapult towards a center. At the very center of the central point, the tangential point of contact has only one mission: to lose balance on the edge when important specifics are received. These specific edges that are received can be abandoned. How can it be abandoned? There are three minute details I cannot mention in this blog because they are proprietary. However, I may allude to these details by listing three allegorical instances: an ocean, a stick, and a piece of bark (vis a vis the stick drawing article). Another method to demonstrate the mission’s edge of abandonment is to display something that is both missing a central point, and receiving an endpoint. The following image only alludes to these possible requirements:

It is newsworthy to mention that the above image has been created to represent, “sunset grain wood.” The sunset’s sun-energy combines with wood to form a pattern, which reminds me about the suns energy (some info about solar energy here) to provide a tactile representation of something without a specific edge. The image’s “mission” is to allow the unfolding of prominent features that we can always discuss at a later time.

Today, this blog may be awarded a silvery golden star with shiny multiparticle beams radiating from the center. Some people imagine “points” when they think of a star; however, I think of a sphere emanating radiant light waves in all directions. In the sky at night, more than 35 stars may be perceived. During the day, however, there may be as many as 50, 100, or even more than 200 stars. Multiply 200 times an infinite number of “points” and the resultant number can be articulated as a “simply bigger-than-countable number.” A handheld calculator is sometimes useful for many calculations. If one award is issued today, two awards issued tomorrow, there will be at least three awards issued, total, within a calendrical week. The multiparticle beams appear to radiate from the center, only if measured properly (with, or without points). Therefore a sum, divided by an eminence (such as from radiating light), can confound the simplest methods, ergo the stick drawing on stone-bark story. The story goes that 400 years ago, a paragraph was inscribed on an old piece of bark which had fallen from a tree. Multiparticle beams radiated towards the bark, and only a vivid imagination would ascertain a number of points on the bark (akin to a referenced star). The piece of bark was later found by a being on some sort of a mission. Carrying out such a mission always resulted in a summation, a calculation of sorts, where the end result was always a sphere. In conclusion, the stone-bark always was found where it was supposed to be. Allegories such as this are almost always of some interest.