Tanemahuta, who parted heaven and sky, and breathed life into woman

‘What is it?’

‘The tree.’ The way he spoke it made me aware of our common perception of the sacred liveliness and vigour of Tanemahuta, the God of the forest, who once shoulders the earth and trample on the sky as a tree to make way for this world; the creation.

‘Tanemahuta.’

Tane smiled. The joy filled him. The little pride was not a problem.

‘Yes, the growth of forests. It’s green here.’ I couldn’t help but look at the shades of green of the embroidery on his shirt.

Tane seemed to sympathize with Tanemahuta. It is a flattery for him. He seemed happy. Didn’t at least someone tell him this convenient compliment, his parents at least?

I went on, ‘Tanemahuta breathes life into the first human female.’

‘I know.’ He spoke again, ‘but I’m not going to tell you her name.’

I smiled, ‘Maybe I know.’

‘That’s what you can get from the websites. I’ve got a better name.’

‘Better name? Why won’t you tell me?’

He smiled, contented with keeping the name secret to himself.

Neo Zelos, where zelos means the zeal

I wondered how much can a boy know about inner strength. I pointed at the name ‘Tane’ on his white shirt, ‘That’s beautiful. Who did it, your mother?’

Tane shook his head. At that moment sadness was a thread of his inner spirit, if not all. He seemed looking for escape by walking faster. But he got used to avoiding the topic by just a minute of leave. A few steps and he slowed down, waiting for me. He asked, ‘How is your life here, the book Neo Zelos.’

I hurried forth and replied, ‘My new life here. Zelos means the zeal. From abstract to real. From home country to new location. My life is just like that.’

‘Is it hard to read?’ He showed interest.

‘Not too hard. I can’t write difficult things.’

‘Are you a Chinese?’ He asked.

‘I am. Do you like Chinese people?’

‘Why did you say so?’

‘Well, Chinese is not well liked here, in particular.’

‘I seldom meet Chinese. I love their calligraphy.’

‘Calligraphy? Can you do it then?’ I was curious.

‘No, except one.’ He paused his pace.

Tane had got spirit like Ruaumoko, god of volcano

‘I heard that you talk with us in some chat room.’ Tane said.

‘Yes, about the little book I brought.’

‘Neo Zelos, What is it about?’

‘My life here a few years ago.’

‘You’re a kiwi?’ Tane asked.

‘Not really. I just studied here.’

‘Have your finished your study?’

‘Not yet.’ I smiled, ‘I do research. It takes time.’

‘You’re a Ph.D...’

‘Not yet, a candidate only.’

‘What kind of research do you do?’

‘Short-term chaos in the network.’ I asked, ‘Do you know what it is?’

‘Chaos, short ones. I know the word. Disorder.’

I nodded, ‘Yes. Just like earthquake.’

‘Ruaumoko.’ He was proud to say the word.

‘The God of earthquake and volcano eruption.’

‘We have the spirit within us, just like an volcano.’

Tane, the tree and creation

The next day I still needed to go to the same place at the same time, when the students were leaving school. I met Tane again. It took three or more glances for him to notice me as someone walked past him yesterday, some twenty-four hours ago.

I had looked it up; the name Tane had something related to the tree and creation myth. His looks were strong and special, for a boy with an age of around thirteen or fourteen. The eyes are beautiful.

I got verified of the little pride criterion from him. If pride be gratified or fed, I could contribute to that. I smiled and nodded cordially. Tane seemed to return greeting, and watched my back after I walked on.

It took another chance acquaintance to let him say hi, I guessed.

Yes, on the third day.

‘Hello. Are you the man who delivers the books to us?’ Tane asked.

I nodded. ‘Yeah, I am. You’re...Tane. Is it a common name?’

‘Yes, in some places.’

‘Where?’

‘Near Queenstown.’

‘Nice place.’ I said. ‘Your accent is not felt.’

‘My parents studied in Europe.’

‘Eh, that’s why.’

Tane: busy talk, medium friendly, little pride.

I heard someone call him. Was it Tain... Ta-nay, or Taain? Then I remembered the flat ‘e’ sound of local accent and the ‘f’ sound in Maōri language. The joke reminded me of a friend once talked about a place name with an initial ‘wha’ sound. Somewhere in New Zealand it was heard pronounced like ‘fuck’. My friend still got a smile on his face after ending the joke.

The boy turned to look for the voice only after a while. It seemed he was thinking at that time, or he did not know it was him being called. The voice never appeared as a person.

He walked towards me. We both walked slowly, so I took notice of the beautiful embroidery of the name ‘Tane’ on his white shirt. It was shown in such a way that it looked like greenish ferns curvature.

Tane looked a bit absent-minded. He was thinking. I remembered the three criteria for describing traits and behaviors: big move, medium attitude, little problem. After a short observation, I gathered that Tane was medium friendly, and nice-looking. He liked his own manners, a little problem of pride, maybe for being a Maōri. What about the big move?

After I passed him, ten steps away I heard someone talking. I glanced back and saw Tane chatting with a girl who should not be the one who just called out for him. The way they indulged themselves in conversation finished me with the descriptive trio of a person: big move in busy talk.

Busy talk, medium friendly, little pride. That can be a nice guy.

a Maōri boy Tane

But I still feel excited. It may be the future me who post LSP somewhere, say, on the Web. Would it make the Internet sacred and important ever after?

Or it’s only when the Web becomes semantic that... Suddenly I sympathize with Web being a semantic thing, or semiotic thing, that information has never been so powerful and penetrating in human history !

Information of idea in the making, to the Web. Not limited to that. Further, to the space, galaxy, local cluster... Would someone, whatever its form and nature, dare to go beyond a planet, a solar system ? Imagine a human being, happened to have certain kind of supernatural power so that he/she can abandon the body, turns into another kind of being, and go beyond our planet. The being wants to seek intelligence, to travel in space, to go beyond what humans can’t go.

What a will.

A few days later I came across a Maōri boy. His name was Tane. What caught my attention was his nearly white clothes. Maōri people are brownish in colour, so wearing white makes them look darker.

is the idea lives through me, that I am being exploited?

I drew some bubbles, mapped them to a lake shore. Trying to link them up into some kind of imagery, and from that I may get inspired. Added some more bubbles and colour, and then realized it was not appealing. I did not have a visual image.

How long can it take for an idea to go from ideation to being tangible on a picture? The visual is for other people to recognize. Being recognizable is a kind of materialization, subject to copyright. Maybe not rights, the tangible may not be an optimal version of an idea.

Let’s go back to the mind. I can comprehend its possibility, such that I thought I created an idea, dragging it through the process of materialization. Or is it that the idea lives through my imagination, living through me? Am I being exploited then? I feel bewildered.

Vehicle and the signified. At night before I sleep, I try to think about this for a while. Would that make me a scientist or philosopher? Just for thinking, and value can be there. It’s just a human being, living. If the idea is thus formed, then thinking is really enough to be a human.

But I was told, LSP is not what I can work out its details. Someone would, and someone would post it somewhere one day so that all the people on earth can get the full protocol and if they have the resources, they can each generate endless energy. But not me, not the present me.