Tag Archives: love

Updates on the rigid structure theory of atomic nuclei

On further study of Neon, I found that the center of the atom’s structure, eight neutrons, was too unstable to be bonded by the forces of the two protons on either end of the chain.  The same pole of all eight neutrons pointed mostly into the center of the atomic structure was too much repellent force to keep the atom stable.  Surprisingly, the answer to this dilemma was not only simple, but conserved space and strength of bonding forces while also making the atomic structure more impervious to outside forces tearing it apart.  The solution was to understand that as the carbon atoms that bond to form Neon come together, their neutron ends must attract each other, not repel, this means that the neutrons in the center of the Neon atom form their own attractive bonds as well as causing the protons to enter into a opposite pole attraction, though we know that the protons repel each other, they very likely repel each other even more on their north poles, as magnets do.  Thus the neutrons will not line up end to end as was supposed but instead, grip each other in two rings like gears in a clock.

I will upload a graphic showing this as soon as I can.

This arrangement changes some things, but instead of being detrimental to my theory, it enhances the probability of it being more correct.  It also has inspired some new insights into star structure.

Instead of understanding stars as balls of condensed gasses, I now perceive them to be balls of crystalline matrices, of neutrons and protons stripped of most of their electrons.  This structure explains many things.  As the inside of a star becomes more crystalline, it becomes less chaotic, more stable, less energetic.  Thus the temperature should decrease in stars towards the core.  The core will also react to internal stresses by vibrating, as we know our own star does, like a tuning fork at 126.22 Hz.  You can find this sound on YouTube.  It makes other frequencies as well, but according to my research, this one is more constant.  As the inner section of the star or sun becomes denser, it also becomes less populated with electrons, however the mass still attracts its electrons, but can shed them quite easily due to the violent fusion processes on the outside at the surface of the sun.  Infact, the super amount of electrons that are squeezed out of the core have no where to go but up and out, and turn the mass into a giant plasma ball of electrons and nuclear reactions.

These things are important to my theory for two reasons, one the atoms now have an easier time fusing inside the star because electrons are not present in enough quantities to inhibit proton neutron bonding.  Electrons are very reactive to protons and can make it difficult for a neutron to attach to a proton due to their poles matching the pole of the neutron coming closer to the proton, and because electrons are easily disturbed in their orbital cloud by other electrons and attractions to the poles of other atomic particles nearby.  This exerts a push pull effect on the proton and makes it difficult for any structure to form at all, other than the electron proton form, or Hydrogen, which is the most common element in the cosmos.

The other importance of this more stable neutron neutron bonding discovery in my theory is that it allows for stars to be more dense that at first theorized, more dense and more structured, this allows for the density zones within a star to correlate to density in gravity strength in normal and subspace regions.  As the star’s core is compressed, it is not just compressed in a haphazard manner, but instead, as with magnets, similar poles of sub atomic particles, + + or – – will oppose each other more and more as they come together, and  opposite poles will attract each other more and more as they come together if the alignment is favorable.  This means that the denser the star, the more crystalline the structure will be, the more aligned the poles of the particles will be, and thus the more magnetic the star will become, as the theory states, the electrons around and fields around protons, when aligned in a planar form, will amplify the effect of the forces inside the particles, and cause the field around it to grow by causing the quanta particles to line up into larger and larger rings due to resonance and amplification of the inner vibrations due to the antenna effect the orbitals inside undergo because of their more quasi-solid nature, this part of the theory states that the smaller the orbit of a particle, and the faster it goes, the more it behaves as a solid, able to deflect and reflect other particles, quanta not contained in a field line especially, these free quantas, that hit the orbitals and are ricocheted away from the orbital into other orbitals or free quanta, this is how magnetic fields are formed.

As the star becomes more physically organized inside, the outer area becomes more magnetically organized.  But as my theory states, the more matter is compressed, the more the vibrational energy that forms attractive wave fronts, or gravity vibrations, known as magnetic attraction, are decreased in outside space and increased in sub space.  A star has so much energy, it never made sense, before, as to why they hold together so well for so long.  But now, my theory explains all of this.  Down below is a list of oddities in science that my theory explains:

  1. Why stable elements are limited in number. : because neutron proton bonds are rigid and affect the way an atom can come together in stable structures.
  2. Why some atoms have many isotopes and some have only one, or very few.  : because electrons create chaos and vibrational stresses so that if two protons end up being two close together, the electrons will repel each other, and push the proton to such a sharp angle in its bond with a neutron that the neutron will tear apart from the structure and not allow the atom to be stable enough to exist anymore as it was.  This explains atomic decay.
  3.  How magnetic fields are formed. :because atoms tend to be polar, if they align, as they do in some metals, their outer electron orbitals will act like antenna arrays and cause free quanta to form more electron orbitals that are bigger than the original and these will expand outward up, and back into the poles of the structure forming a magnet.
  4. How gravity is made.  : attractive waves that are magnets, are compressed and cause the sub space mirror particle to vibrate more, and in this smaller space the mirror particles of things are closer together and begin to attract each other more, even though it is a kind of magnetism in subspace, it is felt more strongly and as the mirror particles pull together, they tug on their above space particles and the movement is even stronger and faster in our space.
  5. How movement of electrons, electricity, causes fields to form. :because as electrons move through metals, they align with each other, in a kind of wave or push pull chain, and because they align, the more electrons that are aligning in the wire, the more the material of the wire itself will align with the electrons, which will cause orbitals to become resonant and act like antennas, which will cause free quanta in the atmosphere around the wire to begin forming up resonant wave fronts, which will make bigger orbitals and grow outward, making a magnetic field.


I hope my theory is becoming more clear. And that you have enjoyed discovering these ideas with me.  Thank you for taking the time to read my papers.  Have a great day.




Warm February Day, even while the sun sinks low behind the dark stick-forest of trees crunched together under a layer of lava-glow orange sky, with dark blue rushing in overhead. The sidewalk looks more blue than white, and the brick buildings of Main St. look darker than brick red. A child could paint this scene with all the orange and blue crayons in the box and nothing would look amiss.

The cars rush by, a few at a time, and are more background objects, than the actual metal bubbles of lives intersecting. Just thinking it, though, and a rush of things come upon me. I push it back. I want lost in the blue sidewalk. I want the coolness coming from the dark blue overhead to stay with me, as I sit upon the warm stone of this marble bench, just a little ways from Main Street.

Too late. The court house, drenched in dark, blood-red bricks, none of it sticking to the white, lime stone foundation that skirts it, is telling stories of long ago. That Oil Soap smell of those wood floors, uneven, after all, buckling under unspoken pressures, comes at me through the cracks of the doors like dust scented perfume. The leather of a million lawyers’ shoes, and the polishing of a million million mop strokes to wipe away their scuffs on the floor, blends oddly with the still slight acrid smell of tobacco, when cigars and cigarettes were as common indoors as the shushing of babies in grocery stores. Some of the ceiling tiles in the janitor closets are still nicotine brown.

Lives. The building blocks of life. How odd to call DNA such a thing, the building blocks of life, considering other worlds may be teaming with life created from nanobot chains built from mineral ladders instead of amino acid rings. But both worlds would still be full of lives.

Lives, one wonders, are they the currency of heaven? Is your life typed up in a manilla folder, full of capital growth and investment predictions and numbers we haven’t even begun to comprehend? Is my after-life credit score good, or is it as crappy as my credit rating down here? How valuable is a life up there?

My sitting on this bench, soaking up the surrealness of this atmosphere, the smell of old building, fragile nerves, and car exhaust, am I increasing the right numbers, or wasting time just…. being? Is there a tax collector above, eagerly awaiting the wages of my idleness? Does he, or she, particularly relish the poets and writers of this world? Maybe the builders of cathedrals are the only ones that keep her up at night wondering where her next paycheck’s sixth or seventh zero will come from. People to take care of there, her family, her friends, her Lamborghini insurance and weekly detailing, all take a toll on the tax collectors of heaven. She has a life too, you know.

When angels kill, what makes them different from demons? Is it like us? Does it matter most why they killed, and not that they did kill? How many people can you kill before you become a killer? Soldiers waking up in the bleak hours of the night, with clenched teeth and sweaty faces seem to know the answer. Do angels know? They have lives too, you know.

These metal bubbles of intersecting lives, rushing by, full of eager faces with hungry tummies, they all stab at my heart. Like a fretful bird, my heart hovers over each one as they pass by, I can almost smell the hamburgers and spaghetties, the soups and breads baking in each house where they drive to, the living rooms full of laid out school books, the kitchen counter with romance novels on them, the smelly boots that dad took off, and the sound that English ears have heard since before it was Old High German, of girls and boys calling for mom… “Mom! Brother is annoying me again. Make him stop!”

A million different houses, bigger wooden bubbles of lives intersecting, with mostly tar encrusted sprinkles of gravel shingles on top, not sprinkles like the little yellow sprinkles of cheese on spaghetti, nor like the little brown dashes of sprinkles on top of a sundae. That sounds really good right now, here on this courthouse lawn.

I used to think worry was a form of love. My love hovers over the world, as if my soul was as big as a planet, but my mind is so very small. Love is not worry. I tell myself this as the fragile little lives and souls go rushing past into the shadows of the dark blue sky as it pushes down the orange glow into a thin hot line.

Oh tax collector of the heavens, tax this, if you will; I hope I make you a fortune, as I stay here, hovering over a world that doesn’t see me, feeling all of it, worrying over all of it, simply being a fat lump of flesh, dressed in rags, sitting alone on a bench, in the dimness of the evening, doing nothing. Invisible but so relieved that no one can see my heart. Like you, I only wish I had a little more love in my life, my friend.

What Love Is worth…

When I was shaking at the doctor’s office, full of fear and doubts, and voices, the doctor put a hand on my back, and comforted me before the ambulance came,

When I lost 10 pounds, in sweat, waiting in the emergency room, and a woman came in and stayed over time, finding me a good place to be sent to, instead of a state institute,

When I was in another ambulance, being taken to the mental care institute, and the technicians were calm and respectful, and held my bed in place when I was bumped around on my way to the care center,

When I checked in, and the nurses comforted me, trying to figure out what had happened to me, and gave me something to eat after hours, talking to me with motherly love,

When I was taken to a room, and my roommate was calm and thoughtful, and offered to share things with me, and to leave the light on if I needed it,

When I was attacked in my own mind by things I could not see, and seemed like an angel protecting me,

When every day after, a calm voice lead me through this, day after day, saying, hold on, hold on, wait, wait, you are loved,

When the screams come, and I ask God to quiet them, and they fade away in my mind,

All of this, beginning on 2011, November 11th.  When I attacked the occult world, and even today, 2014, January, 22nd, as I write this, silent to them,  in a restaurant, the group of kids that came in earlier sit all around me in a large group spouting things about the Illuminati, and occult, as if it is an every day word or something everyone talks and jokes about, and I feel attacked and mocked for holding on to God, and inside, a voice says, wait, wait, wait, and that it loves me and that things will get better, and I sit in a strange kind of surreal calmness,……

In the little things, I know what love is worth.

A little thing

Under a smooth, vivid, Persian blue sky, with trees standing tall, black and naked against that fading, dark blue dusk, there, on a lawn, cold, windblown, a curled, antique-paper colored maple leaf flipped and twirled like a tumbleweed, and in that single moment, in that simple, tiny act of nature, I had all the riches in the world, and no king, no prince, or princess, or empress, nor banker, nor war-monger, not even Solomon and all he ever had, was as rich as I.

Imagine, if you can, how much richer I feel, when I have you to hold.

A dusky barn swallow, almost the color of its shadow, touches the water of the dark pond, and its tweets of exhilaration soar like a symphony in my heart.

Imagine, if you can, how my heart feels when you say my name, and it is filled with love.

Little things mean so much and they build and help support the larger things that make life vivid and joyful.  Ah, but the kids, you know, the kids….  they want those big things, and when they arrive there, stand on those victories, how surprised they are when the glory fades so quickly away.  But we, we go to sleep at night, wrapped in glory, dripping with jewels, vivid and joyful, and so wealthy that all the banks in all the world could not hold our treasures.

A short sky view

It isn’t fair, is it, that stars look so much more brilliant when it is cold outside?  But here we are, under the rhinestone dotted black blanket sky, laying in the back of this truck, listening to the ice melting, drop by drop, in the naked branches and finger-like limbs of the trees and bushes in the fence row beside us.  It smells wet out, like wood smoke and a washcloth left on the bath tub, almost soapy.  I hold your hand, and there is such warmth in it.  Very surprising how warm and connected i feel. 

Laying next to you, it is hard to simply concentrate on the stars.  But I want to.  They fill your eyes too.  What wonders lay up there for us to see?  Will we see them together? 

A noise in the slushy leaves and amber field grass grabs my attention.  I raise up to look for the source.  It’s a white and black stray cat, looking at me with the same amount of alertness. It lifts a furry leg tentatively then puts a padded paw on the slush and suddenly, full of energy, bolts along the fence row until it blends into the shadows. 

I am about to lay down, but you suddenly pull me down; to your smiling face, your warm lips, and I am lost in kisses.



The house is clapboard, but wallpapered well, floral designs in faded green and faded red still make it seem more solid than it is.  The floor is wood planks as well, some having gaps where ends meet, but there is no cold air coming from beneath.  The black, pot-bellied stove is rather large for its kind, fed too often, maybe, with a surplus of split oak and hickory sticks, and it fills the room with soft cooking scents and a dry, dry heat.  It feels good while I sit in the rocker, slowly moving back and forth, watching my loved one, putting a white, porcelain pan on the tall dark burner.  She likes the way the pan and the set it came with matched the white porcelain shell of the old stove that we found in the barn beside our new, but old Kentucky home.  The pale blue flames begin to lick the bottom of the pan, and already i can smell the buttered rum cooking.  Such a sweet savor, like milky candy, the aroma wraps around my head and thoughts, and endears me to the woman standing there, smiling, tall, happy, her blue flowered dress almost elegant, yet homey, making me fall in love with her, all over again. 

She does that to me, makes me fall in love with her, every day. I think I also make her fall in love with me, over again, at times, for often, when the ashes from the stove are taken out and I walk back in with my face covered in the grey dust because of a gust of wind, she cracks an amused grin, and i can see her eyes glint wonderfully, magically.  And when I sweep the floor and mop it, without her asking, she gives me extra kisses later that night. 

But it is when we go out into the tangled, misty woods, my dark, leather hat and jacket on, and her with her hand woven basket swinging at her side, and we hunt and find the wild ginseng, that she then looks at me with almost wild eyes, like I’m a fantasy character in a romance novel come to life and she can’t wait to get to the pages in the middle of the book where they can no longer restrain their attraction for each other. 

The ground is wet and covered with fallen leaves, and smells very much like sweet tobacco before it is burnt; leafy, mellow, and woodsy.  Ancient Age, the whiskey, often tastes that way, and that’s why I’ll sip on it once in a while.  But right now, being with her is intoxicating enough.  They say there are rubies in the streams just a few valleys over the hills from here.  I would love to take her there, and explore those streams with her.  But if I had found there, the largest rubies ever discovered, I know I’d trade them all for one more day with her.

The Winter Storm


Before the storm, the streets become dark stream beds. Each little stone in the concrete becomes individualized, making the road what it really is, a cobble stone relic of a billion, billion rocks, held together by thin threads of black asphalt. And it shushes and slushes, and swishes when car tires speed across it. The children in the foggy windows are faces filled with smiles. School is closed tomorrow.

Christmas trees with their rainbow colored lights reflect off the street in streaks. It is art, stretched and melting into the gutters with the cold rain. The water looks slicker, everything does: car hoods, mail boxes, roof tops, all looking freshly born, ready to be used by a happier human race.

Thunder signals the heavier rains to fall. Soon it will become cold slush, then sleet. You can smell ice in the air, though people will say it is impossible. We know it’s not. Just smile quietly at the nay sayers. Some people are only comfortable if they are saying nay. Not a pleasant fact, but a fact all the same.

Christmas is in the air. It comes like a static charge, in the sounds of bells above doors, in the excited raised voices of children in stores, and the knowing smiles of parents, laughing at the memory of their former childhood glee. It tinks in the salvation army bells, jingles in the ringtones on busy, busy phones held by bustling shoppers. Shopping as a chore is now shopping for presents and surprises. Giving and getting all wrapped up in tinsel and bows.

Then it comes, the darkness, the storm, the rain, the ice, the slippery roads, the worries, the driving slow, the yellow flashing lights, the sirens, then the… accidents.

And in this cold darkness you would be forgiven if all you could see was gladness turned to misery. For I will show you what you do not see.

The paramedics, the police, the rescue crews, the wrecker services, the thousands and thousands of doctors and nurses, the millions of designers, architects and inventors that created the tools of salvation and rescue. Then the safety conscious, who created safer homes that stand strong against the snows and ice and power outages. The ones who created shut-off switches for power over-loads, and broken gas lines, and alarms for deadly carbon monoxide and indoor fires. These millions and millions of workers, their army of tools  and the saviors, rescuers, all coming out to pull us from the wreckage of our darkest moments, these are an army of light and brotherhood. One for all, and all for one. That is who we are, at our best and worst, the human race, the darkness and the beauty of the planet Earth, a jewel in the night, one of many many yet to be found.

If love was a light you could see, and good deeds and kindness a spark, the world that seems so darkly spinning in the void of space, would instead, shine as brightly as a sun. For every dark act of soul or chance, there are a million million acts of kindness and love, so many, it would fill a library the size of our planet.

Outside, the wind is howling, and frozen droplets are crumbling from the dark brown oak stems. It sounds like hail hitting the roof and window panes. It is starless, and streetlamps are mere golden balls of glowingness.  Golden orbs in the mist, the magic of christmas alive again.

My fellow humans will separate us from nature, as if that was natural, but all around me, I see us just where we should be, like the other creatures here, carving out a home, and shaping it to our will. The garden of eden was never taken from the Earth, it was just guarded against intrusions. Slowly, over thousands of years, we have turned our battlefields into gardens.

There is no peace, nor will there ever be, but if there was, how boring that would be. But, we can try, and continue to grow, and watch in wonder as our world shifts from extreme to extreme until we find that blessed middle way between anarchy and puritanism, where life flourishes for the just and the unjust because only there, is the chance for heroes to be born, and of all the creations of man and God, the most numerous have been the heroes, born here by the billions.

The ice storm will go away with a little sunshine and some warmth, but the deeds of heroism and love, and all that went into them, will have remained, and will continue to build onto something wonderful and beautiful unto the ages. But let us come down from the higher thoughts and simply curl up around a warm mug of cocoa, and listen with animal intensity to the strange and dangerous sounds of the winter storm.

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