Harmonic convergence: an extended interlude

[Felix]

Thanks, Lasher. People may be surprised that you of all people are extending a hand, but perhaps they have not yet seen the best of you.(That should be worth a dozen LOL chimes from the gallery all by itself).

Roger, that was indeed a humorous piece, and I appreciate both the wit and the gentle remonstrance. I may not heed, but I take in the spirit it was offered.

DCL, You are undoubtedly correct across the board -- at least you'll get no arguments from me. In retrospect, I can see how this all comes across as very mystical, and that was not my intent. I ascribe no otherworldly significance to these events. I found it to be interesting and unprecedented in my experience, and I was curious to know if anyone else had encountered something similar. I had considered posting a much abbreviated summary instead (as I later did in a vain attempt to recast the discussion along more constructive lines), but I posted what I did in large part because I thought that it might help people better understand my experience, especially women who might recognize (or even attempt) such a feate; and to provide a context for any ensuing discussion.

Though I had been quite excited to post the original, after I did I found myself feeling increasingly anxious and, for lack of a better term, vulnerable. I am not generally one to succumb to the vapors, but there was something about this experience that was difficult to share.

I debated the ethical and moral arguments about deleting the thread parent without reaching a firm conclusion. When I logged in a few minutes ago, I was inclined to kill the thread, apologize to the handful of respondents, and then repost the three-line version to refocus the discussion on the purely technical issues.

When I saw Roger's post, I winced a bit, in part because it showed me how wrong I would have been to pull the plug. A couple other comments were well meaning (if slightly exasperated, perhaps with reason), but I was still left feeling uneasy.

Then I read Lasher's post.

I don't need compliments and I don't mind disapproval. The entropic detritus from the most feeble is merely an echo of the heat-death of the universe. I'm not certain that I require an audience, much less an appreciative one.

And yet, somehow, the spark of human concern, transformed a billion billion times over from quickening to arrival, still has power -- the power to sear actinic through the dross of indifference, to cast fulgent shafts to the depths of misunderstanding, and to soar bravely across the the uncertain gulf of human existence.

Thank you.

 

[Gingersnap]

I do appreciate the above gentlemen for the content and endurance of their essays. I do wonder if your girlfriend got off in a major way because you let your hands express your feelings... I know you're going rip on me for this.. The existential question is one we all must answer in our own way. I find most of my answers to life in a concise little book known as "Catch 22"

Let er rip guys!



[This message has been edited by Gingersnap (edited 05-28-2000).]

 

[Guest]

I hate to ruin my budding reputation as the bitter dregs in Socrates' cocktail, but I had an interesting experience today that I wanted to share. It's long but has some sticky bits, so you might want to read it.

This afternoon, I gave my girlfriend a backrub. It started out as an almost idle pastime -- a way to occupy my hands while lounging on the bed on lazy Saturday afternoon. We were lying crosswise on the bed; she says it makes her feel bigger, and to me it somehow seems less like naptime. The room was very warm even with the blinds drawn against the sun.

I'm not quite certain when things began to change, but at some point I realized that I was doing more rubbing than talking, and that she had put down the book she had been placeholding and closed her eyes. I pointed out that the knot of her bikini top could interfere with a proper massage, and without further comment she pulled off her tank top as I untied the strings. We continued the backrub, though gradually it began to incorporate more wide-ranging strokes and, eventually, gentle neck-nuzzlings. After a while, she asked for a pause to use the bathroom. When she returned, she was naked, and I felt it was only polite to join her in that state.

We resumed the backrub, which though still without deliberate aim had clearly begun to build a quiescent energy. My hands roamed from her outstretched arms to just short of her ticklish feet, lingering here and there at the myriad diversions in between. I found myself lying on my side against her length, with convenient access to kissing her sensitive neck and, increasingly, caressing her rounded bottom from a variety of angles. My strokes along her legs slid lower, and made light but lengthening contact with her inner thighs. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, her legs opened, and almost without realizing it I first brushed her labia. I paused for a moment, uncertain whether a line had been crossed; she responded by silently spreading her legs further.

The game had now changed. I continued the backrub with my left hand, but increasingly my right found its way between her legs. I began to focus more on her still-buried clitoris, and after a time facilitated the action with some discreetly-added saliva. That seemed to go over well, so I leaned over to the nightstand and got the lubricant. I began to work that in, first on the outside and then with series of shallow, lingering insertions. Things were definitely looking good for the home team.

That's when our grey cat jumped up and immediately settled down against her foot at the edge of the bed. Normally, we exclude the cats from these occasions, but not having planned on "doing" anything, we had not closed them out. He sat there quietly facing away from her and seemed uninterested in the proceedings, but that was not the time for him to lounge between her legs. She tried to nudge the cat, but he demurred; I tried as well, and still he remained passively obdurate. In the end, I had to get up, pick him up between my forearms (my hands were still covered with lube), carry him like a 16-pound bread loaf to the hall outside the bedroom, and then shut the door with my elbow.

What could have been disastrous was instead fortuitous, as when I returned to the bed, my girlfriend had flipped onto her back with her legs spread wide -- clearly, it was time to roll up my figurative sleeves and get to work. I sat on the bed and laid my legs under hers and along her body; their weight supported by mine, her legs wrapped loosely around my back. After adding more lube, I resumed my explorations -- first out, then in, a finger and then a thumb. I began to do curl and sweep my my finger inside her, and she responded with a tide of fluid. We continued in this fashion for some time until her breath began to catch.

At that point I picked up the intensity, though I was in no hurray to finish. At some point I stopped alternating between massaging her clitoris and gentle internal massage and started doing both with one hand. With my other hand, I caressed her body, especially her breasts and the base of her throat. It was clear that she was enjoying herself as the slickness quickly rose. As she became increasingly aroused, I switched to using two hands, but continued the dual inside-out stimulation. It is worth noting that all of this was very smooth and unhurried, even as the pace increased. I was very relaxed and efficient with my actions, and felt no strain or fatigue. I also kept my movements very regular and steady, alternating the primary focus from inside to out while keeping both at comparable levels of overall stimulation.

What happened next is the heart of this story, but unfortunately hard to describe. Eventually, it became apparent that she was approaching her peak. For some reason, though, rather than kick in the "finishing frenzy" that sometimes takes over when things are getting lively, I felt myself grow still. I continued my previous two-handed stroking but began to be aware of being tune with her body at some deep and fundamental level. I could not have articulated what I felt -- I simply knew in an awareness as effortless and instinctive as breathing. In some ways, it was less of a sense how how she "felt" than of how her body was responding, and yet in some way it was a combination of the two.

As her climax unfolded, I found myself feeling oddly crystalline, and yet wholly organic. I am not quite sure if I slowed my pace so much as my perception of time expanded. It was not as though time had stopped, nor as though each moment lasted an eternity. Rather, I felt like each moment was had a discrete beginning and end that I could initiate with a lazy thought; in between was a timeless continuum in which I could do as much as or as little as I pleased until I chose to move to the next moment. Time continued to flow, however, and I was aware of what for lack of a better term a rhythm, or a series of rhythms, within my girlfriend. I continued massaging her inside and out, but instead of physical sensations I could feel the waves of pleasure within her; as I touched her, I could sense how the waves rose and fell, and began to coax them into synchrony. I was aware of her body gently "drawing" into climax (if that makes any sense), but it seemed no urgent thing. I continue to stroke her inside and out, no longer building the waves, but maintaining their coherence, and then after a time, slowly easing them down in tandem. I opened my eyes, and she was done.

I realize that the above sounds pretty exotic to say the least, and I'm not claiming that any great religious or metaphysical enlightenment was reached. I don't know how long the mystic interlude lasted (though it couldn't have been long), and I didn't look around too much while I was there -- my attention was elsewhere. I can, however, that afterwards, my girlfriend lay there quietly for a time; when I asked her how she was, she said, "Relaxed." She was not particular exhausted, but there was nevertheless an odd stillness quite different than the usual languor. I asked her to explain how she felt, and she said, "I feel like I've been on a two-week vacation."

Intrigued, we discussed her perceptions of what had happened. She reported that she had initially not intended anything more than a backrub, but had found herself drawn in to the sensations. Things had proceeded more or less normally until near then end. As best as she can tell, she had both clitoral and a vaginal orgasms that were simultaneous, and more importantly "in phase" in some fashion. The result was that while neither orgasm was beyond normal intensity, the gestalt effect was sublime, even transcendent. This was enhanced by the extended time both were continued in synchrony, prolonging both the physical sensations and the synergy that united them. She says that she has felt both kinds of orgasms before, sometimes even essentially simultaneously, but never before had they both been in synch with each other, and never before had she felt anything like what he had that afternoon. I didn't ask directly, but I got the sense that s

 

[Guest]

[No message]

 

[Guest]

Harmonic convergence you say? It is rather obvious, Felix, you are spending just a little bit too much time spanking the monkey. Now it's affecting your big head. But thanks for preparing me for a nap.

 

[Felix]

I knew that this would be too much for the conceptually challenged to handle. I have no expectations, but I hope for better from the rest.

It does, however, occur to me point out that there appear to be two primary phenomena at work here: the time dialation, and the dual synergistic orgasm.

The former pertained solely to me. More to the point, what I have described was my perception of the events; I have no reason to think that my girlfriend felt any of this. It is germane to note that I have had similar experiences during other periods of intense concentration and total focus. In those instances, however, the activity was purely mental, involving nothing outside my own head; in this case, there was a powerful sense of connection to my girlfriend and a physical component as well. The basic mechanism may be similar, but the experience felt quite different.

In fact, rather than dwell on the putative temporal abberation, it may be more useful to think of this as a form of communion. In the earlier occurences, I had been placing enormous amounts of energy and focus on specific problems and concepts (generally while under tremendous pressure), and until at some point I would "flash" to a moment of total clarity in which I felt complete insight into and comprehension of the situation. In yesterday's experience, it was not so much a vast rush of knowledge as it was opening my eyes and seeing on a different wavelength; also, there was no stress, or even the awareness of concentration. As I mentioned earlier, I do this that they are similar phenomena, but the subjective element was substantively different. In the end, though people are free to discuss it, this less critical to the central question.

The other major issue can be summarized very simply as this: my girlfriend had simultaneous clitoral and vagina orgasms, and felt that their synergy was a profoundly different experience. Does this ring a bell for anyone?


Perhaps I should have laid it out that way from the start, but I still feel that the context is useful for assessing the overall experience. I strongly considered not discussing this intensely personal experience, but decided that something of value might come of it. Time will tell if I have chosen wisely.

 

[Guest]

Originally posted by felix:

I realize that the above sounds pretty exotic to say the least, and I'm not claiming that any great religious or metaphysical enlightenment was reached.

I would accept this as a religious experience. I know this will sound crass, but the burning bush has spoken to you. Accept the miracle of the experience. Feel happy in the knowledge that miracles still happen and live life expecting more to follow. I wouldn't want to miss the forest through the trees by analyzing every facet of a wonderful moment. Thanks for sharing it, even though I'm not totally sure what happened (dopey me). You expressed yourself eloquently.

 

[Felix]

HP, as I think I mentioned, I understand that this may be an irreducible experience -- one whose whole is truly greater than its parts.

On the other hand, I am relentlessly (if hopefully not destructively) analytical, and if you told me up front that I was about to experience a miracle, I would still attempt to understand it. I guess that's my addiction. I don't have to reduce it to its component atoms, mind you, but neither can I simply accept without trying to encompass it. Is that blasphemy? hubris? Perhaps. I think he important thing is to try to handle each situation according to its own nature, and not try impose an inappropriate metric. Don't be afraid to say, "I don't know." Also, not everything is a mystery. Sometimes, a cigar is just a cigar.

That noted, I have had one other experience that falls into the "gestalt" category. It had very little to do with sex, even fewer obvious religious implications, and no cosmic weirdness. Even so, it was powerful and transforming, and remains vivid to this day. For some reason, that remains the one experience of my life that I have never attempted assay, deconstruct, or interpret. It is my proof that there is magic in the world.

 

[Felix]

It just occurred to me that if I'm the new Moses, we're gonna need some awfully big tablets -- I seem to have temporarily misplaced my epigrammatic qualities.

 

[Felix]

HP, I do want to thank your for your thoughtful response.

I should also point out that I believe that there are entirely scientific explanations for all of this -- no divine agency is necessary.

I suggest, however, that there can be magic even in the mundane; or to put it another way, that a union of otherwise prosaic events can still evince transcendent qualities.

Knowledge is not the end of mystery.

 

[Guest]

Reverend Felix, yes indeed, you are "the new Moses" and I agree with High Peaks that what you are describing is a religious experience whether you admit it to be such or not. "A form of communion" is right on. That's what Jimmy Swaggert told the hooker in an attempt to get a discount.

Tantrikas such as Pashal Beverly Randolph have long offered that one should pray at the time of orgasm. "Oh God, fuck me, fuck me harder!" Nothing wrong with mixing sex and religion so, Reverend Felix, no need to pretend your "harmonic convergence" is not holy fucking sex.

Reverend Felix, you got a good scam going here with this "harmonic convergence" me thinks. You might add a little something to the mix like it makes wanton women born again virgins.

BTW, Reverend Felix, what are you doing on the Literotica BB on a Sunday morning? Should you not be at the pulpit preaching?

"Now," said Reverend Felix, "open your bibles to the Song of Solomon 4:16, '... let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.' This is all about eating pussy, 'er, I mean harmonic convergence."

 

[Guest]

Dear, Sir,

My ex-girlfriend and I once experienced a rather curious phenomenon similar in quality to the one you have described. Whilst reading aloud in the study from HG Wells' 'Short Essay On Holistic Orgasms and their Direct Correlation To Time-Flux Episodes', my well-lubricated fingers happened upon that organ of my beloved's lower anatomy known as the clitoris (a word of Greek derivation, I believe, just like your name). Both parties (myself and she) were puzzled by how easily my oiled digits (seemingly possessed by some mischievous will of their own) had burrowed their way through the lady's Victorian dress, panties and chastity-belt to the very core of her womanhood in so short a passing of time.

Soon the lady was perspiring profusely and issuing forth a most beastly and loathsome series of grunts and howls that had the hackles rising on RL Stevenson's neck. (Dear Robert often spends Sunday in our company at the mansion mixing potions and perfecting his pirate accent.)

Just as the creaking arm of the old grandfather clock swung its way to 13 minutes past midday, there was a God-awful crackle and we were all hurtled through time and space. I only had a few moments to contemplate the full impact of Mr Einstein's treatise on Time and Relativity before my good lady and I plummeted several thousand fathoms beneath the sea.

Here we had some fascinating adventures involving big oily creatures and a bearded, tyranical sea captain which I hope to chronicle in a later pamphlet.

However, it is the conclusion of our mysterious journey which has, in my humble opinion, a certain harmony with the tale told in your astounding research paper.

The more my beloved climaxed, the further forward in time we were hurtled until we eventually arrived at a co-ordinate far in the future. 1964, to be exact. Here we discovered that fashions have changed somewhat. Gentlemen wear their fringe a good inch lower down their forehead than is customary in our age, and girls don't let you "touch them down there". And believe me - I've asked quite a few.

Now, please allow me tell you about the strange case of the blow-job that turned common aluminium into gold.....

Your faithful servant

Sir Moriarti Rathbone

 

[Dixon Carter Lee]

Felix, you and I share the habit of over-analyzing the fall of each little sparrow. Loved your description. Happy for your experience. But I think you're working too hard at this. You had good sex. Really good sex. Alchemic sex. The Egg made better, probably, with the addition of the prime element "emotion". (Euridition intentional). Have a smoke, roll over, and dream the dream of the soulfully sated.

 

[Merelan]

Oh God... I need help... please... anyone... I cannot breathe I am laughing so hard. I think I need mouth to mouth... oops. That means something differant here doesn't it. Though I could use that too.

Roger... could you please repeat that with me sometime?

 

[Lasher]

I know this will sound crass, but the burning bush has spoken to you.

Was that meant in the figurative sense, or the literal?

And, Felix, don't let the "Nay Sayers" bring you down. There's a certain element that exists for whom the phrase "She felt really good" would be too involved and require a dictionary to decipher. I enjoyed both the description and the analysis and look forward to hearing more in the future. It's always refreshing when someone can bring a unque viewpoint to the discussions here.

TRANSLATION

For those who didn't understand what I said above (or are still stuck in the A's in the dictionary), I asked Felix not to dumb down what he says just to make people feel gooder.

 

[Whispersecret]

Felix, you keep posting. I LOVE your eloquence and would love someday to sit and have coffee with you and talk about anything at all.

I have never experienced the sexual epiphany that you did. I will keep hoping. I think that there had to be something more to it than the dual orgasmic factor because that doesn't explain YOUR time distortion. If you feel like analyzing it, go ahead. I am an analyzer too. I don't think you'll be able to ever figure out how to repeat it though.

[This message has been edited by whispersecret (edited 05-29-2000).]

 

[Fox]

Felix, that was a profound and wonderful experience! You and your girlfriend were truly lucky to have it. I got a feeling of what you felt, and can only hope both to hear further from you, as well as to encounter the mystery of two caring individuals as you did.

Cheers!
Fox

 

[Laurel]

Felix,

Submit a story or two, eh?

love,
laurel

 

[Laurel]

On topic... I believe emotions are hormone cocktails. In an age where schizophrenia - once dubbed "madness" and "the work of the devil" - can be controlled with medication, as can depression and even (according to a commercial I saw last night) even shyness, it's hard for me to see euphoria as anything more than a lucky mix of endorphins. Nothing spiritual or transcendental about it.

Doesn't make it any less mysterious or amazing, though. The effect of body chemicals on emotions - that Manu can say something to me one week and I'll react rationally, yet a week later in my cycle the same statement will send me into a shoe-throwing fit (I'm exagerrating, I don't throw shoes, I swear) - never ceases to amaze me. So much of our sexual experiences is based in brain chemistry.

 

[Guest]

My dearest Madam,

Thank you so much for encouraging Felix to submit stories. Could you please impose a word limit on Felix? Say something less than the Gospel of John, which is 15,000 words, give or take two or three. I'm a little concerned Felix might send his stories to me to edit. I'm not Methuselah and I do not anticipate living for 969 years.

Thank you in advance for your attention to this matter.

WH

 

[Guest]

Felix,

This is a serious reply to your original topic (although I had a lot of fun writing the other one).

I think, from your writing, that you are probably a very logical, analytical person who spends a great deal of time using the left hemisphere of his brain - the side that concerns itself with science, order and logic.

I can imagine that, perhaps, the right side of your brain - which deals with creative, intuitive, illogical, sexual, spiritual and other thoughts - is sometimes a little neglected.

There are ways you can activate the right side of your brain, and I think this is what you accidentally did.

If I'm planning on trying to do something creative, I sometimes scribble on a piece of paper with my left hand and stare at a blank wall. The right side of your brain controls the left side of your body, so you can stimulate it by using the left side of your body. Other things you can do are to stare at a mandela (which is a completely symetrical star-shaped kind of pattern) or do a repetetive simple task for so long that you stop even thinking about doing it. Writers sometimes find that they come up with a solution to a problem that's been bothering them for a while if they just forget about it and do some boring household chore like ironing.

What I've noticed whenever I've brought about this state of mind is similar to what you describe - time seems to slow down and every colour around me seems brighter and more vivid. You seem to smell, taste, feel and hear everything so much more clearly. I don't think it's a mystical experience. I think the primitive, intuitive, animalistic part of your brain is being freed up. Your head isn't cluttered up with logic. It's completely focussed on the world surrounding you. You are thinking in a very different way - an illogical, intuitive way, which can seem almost spiritual. I think this is how animals look at the world most of the time. They're not worrying about where the universe came from or how to spell "colloquial", they're just allert to every possibility of food or danger. They're in tune with their environment.

Animals pick up emotions from humans. I think your cat picked up this altered consciousness from you and your girlfriend. In a way you were more on your cat's wavelength than usual.

I think the reason you experienced this is because of your intense concentration on your girlfriend, the repetetive motions involved in the massage and genital stimulation (I think you said you were also using your left hand) and the intensity of the erotic emotions you were feeling.

To see if I'm right, try an experiment. Sit in a chair in complete darkness (or with your eyes closed) for about 15-30 minutes, randomly scribbling quickly on a piece of paper with your left hand. Eventually open your eyes and see how different everything seems to look. Let me know if this is similar to what you experienced.

You'll probably find that you have lots of ideas for stories or other stuff. Write them with your left hand and then go over them, correcting and altering, with your right hand.

Ok. I'm going to bed. I've said too much.

roger

[This message has been edited by roger simian (edited 05-28-2000).]

 

[Guest]

Actually, no. I think I'll go visit Merelan.

So, what exactly does 'Mouth to Mouth' mean where you come from?

roger
xxx

 

[Svedish_Chef]

Originally posted by High Peaks:
I would accept this as a religious experience. I know this will sound crass, but the burning bush has spoken to you. Accept the miracle of the experience. Feel happy in the knowledge that miracles still happen and live life expecting more to follow. I wouldn't want to miss the forest through the trees by analyzing every facet of a wonderful moment. Thanks for sharing it, even though I'm not totally sure what happened (dopey me). You expressed yourself eloquently.

I know me too...

I'm sure it could be entered as a story too I wish I could do that but I always did prefer a good massage.

da Chef

 

[Felix]

Originally posted by earthgoddess:
My interpretation is that you ... freed your girlfriend's kundalini ... we are all on the same track with our life force/right brain /tantric/kundalini things.

You may well be right, though from what I can tell, the tantric model better matches what she experienced. As Roger pointed out, I am predisposed towards more "scientific" approaches, but that would not preclude the alternatives proposed. In fact, this may be an appropriate moment to make a brief detour through a philosphy of science (presented in a subsequent post).

 

[Felix]

"Eliminate the impossible and whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." -- Sherlock Holmes

Science is a method, not an outcome. It is seeking to understand the truth of our existence to the the best of our ability to ascertain it. The validity of a scientific theory is determined solely by its ability to predict observable behavior based on a known initial state. This process is necessarily predicated on observables, as we have no other standard by which we can assess the accuracy of our theories. Some "observables" may be prohibitively difficult to monitor (e.g., the constructs of string theory, which would require the energy of a galaxy to isolate), but the principal is unchanged.

Science has no purchase on concepts deemed "undetectable" and "unknowable"; its one advantage is that science is not static, and what is beyond our reach or even our comprehension today may be readily achievable at some later date. Indeed, science can be neither right nor wrong. Individual theories may wax or wane, but the process ensures that the best explanation always prevails. The converse is also true: no theory is ever finished, no explanation beyond reproach or even replacement. Everything that is "known" in science is merely the best explanation available at that moment. As a result, a true scientist must also be willing to acknowledge when no sufficient explanation for observed phenomena. This should not be construed as a failure of science or an invalidation of the methodology; on the contrary, it underscores the legitimacy and success of what has been achieved.

There are always bounds on the accuracy and range of observation itself, and these limitations descend upon to the scientific method based entirely on the legitimacy of the observation. Inevitably, observational errors or improvements will mask or reveal flaws in theory. Again, this does not invalidate science. Iinstead, it reminds of the basic but central truth that science can only explain the nature of our universe to the extent that the universe can be known at that moment. It is inevitable that subsequent developements will further refine theories held at a point in time to be exhaustive, comprehensive, and accurate. This does not mean that no theory can be truly valid; rather, it shows that a theory is only valid to the extent that it matches the observation ground truth of our experience.

It may also be useful to consider the concept of the function. In mathematics, a function can be summarized as a map connecting the input to the output. For each element in the group of possible inputs, a function defines a output. The function is effectively a black box that matches inputs with outputs; the complexity or sophistication of the process that determined the output is immaterial. A function is nothing more or less than a set of paired inputs and outputs.

From this arises a profound result: TWO FUNCTIONS THAT MAP THE SAME INPUTS TO THE SAME OUTPUTS FOR EVERY POSSIBLE INPUT ARE IDENTICAL. Indeed, they are indistinguishable. It doesn't matter if the black box that coverts input to output is a supercomputer or a dancing chicken -- two functions that always produce the same result are equivalent and interchangeable.

Science is nothing more than an attempt to determine the function that defines the connection between present and future observables. To the extent that two different theories perform this task identically, they are in the same, no matter how disparate they may appear. Consider the example of a ball released from the top of a slope. It makes no difference if one speaks of friction and gravity or teams of demons if, given the same information (e.g., the size and composition of a ball and track) they both approaches predict the same outcome (e.g., the final speed of the ball).

In this example, consider what would happen if the advocate of demonic ball locomotion now announced that due an improved contract, the demons were to receive every other Thursday off, and that as a result nothing would move during that time. One could then construct an experiment that would conclusively determine which of the now different theories best predicted the observed results, and hence to be deemed more accurate.

There has been extensive criticism of the scientific method for its perceived shortcomings. Generally, these comments say something to the effect that its inherent phallic/Eurocentric/reductionist/Cartesian/atheist/whatever bias wrongly dismisses the value of different types of thinking that, if recognized, would enable breakthoughs not possible by conventional science. This is, however, essentially a null statement -- whatever black box allows a new or better prediction of observable behavior is, like it or not, as much as scientific principle as of the theory of relativity. In fact, the principles of the scientific method can in turn be applied understanding supposedly unscientific phenomona such as spirituality.

The only real debate can be on metascience -- in other words, questioning the legitimacy of limiting the scope of inquiry to purely observable phenomena. To the extent that one postulates fundamentally unknowable properties or effects, one defines a faith that cannot be addressed by science. Such postulates are by definition accepted implicitly without need for proof or possibility of error. In many cases, observed evidence eventually contradicts the puportedly infallible dogma; in these situations, the "believer" must either reject the faith or accept an inconsistent world as the price of that faith.

Note that nothing dictates that these faiths are inherently invalid or incorrect. True, they exist outsides the bounds of meaningful scientific assessment, but there is nothing that precludes such a faith from in fact accurately characterizing an existence beyond that of our observable world. Indeed, science is itself merely the faith that there are no other faiths (i.e., that there are no such postulates). To the extent that different faiths speak to the laws of some ethereal plane, science has no claim to greater truth or validity. Note well, however, that to the extent that a faith specifies the effect of otherwise unknowable forces on the observable universe, science may legitimately compare the prediction with the observed outcome; any discrepancy reflects upon the underlying faith, and not on science itself.