Friday, December 21, 2012

scatter (a poem)

The scatter of the light faze is speckled along the stone of my heart


Am I lonely?

No! the hardness of my heart gives form to this sweet revelation

Darkness,darkness,darkness, all forms emerge from you darkness

and I love you darkness

youre wormth



not all darkness is this way

not all darkness is created equal

darkness is created by light

but some darkness is death

and other darkness is life

I love life



Life is darkness because those that wish to embrace life must embrace the unknown



I love life so much it hurts



I love worm darkness and its drawing effect on my heart

it pulls my blood through my veins, faster and faster

Faster....faster...faster..faster.fasterfasterfasterfsterstersterrrrrrrrr!

Oh holy night!



you ever close your eyes and forget where you're at?

and then just sit there for the longest time until pictures start popping up in your eye's

then gradually get so tired of the pictures that you don't even have the concentration to hold them together

just watch them shatter to pieces

all of a sudden lava pours into your vision

and you become a great volcano of dreams



friend, has this ever happened to you?

Then you know the power of worm darkness!!!




oh sweet darkness, and it's heavenly form of pure possibility

God is like this

you don't know what God is going to do!

All the forms of animal came from Gods mind

AND God steers this universe though the darkness of its own space



G-d took a string and made a bulon dog.

And all the kids said, "oh! it's cool!"



Oh sweet devastating Darkness

mold my shape into a Pipevine Swallowtail

scatter mine eyes along the flour of the universe

so that I can survey thine monumental mayhem

lovely explosions of life!

Aurora, heavy tides fall, all cold and bundled up,

beard pushed against your face, checks on fire,

birds dancing in trash heaps, nebulas peek hole's in nothingness of space

Gasping whales surfacing, glaciers cracking and cascading

sun flare dancing and taunting the earth,

Picnics in the park when the air is palpable,

depths of the ocean under the bone crushing wait of miles of salty sea

worm fire in its place, wild fire in its place

they world shaking at its seems,

and me with knives in hand

singing the song of great creation

Taking my place in the fluxes of form melting and

exploding with new life!!!



G-d where art though?

hidden in great darkness just where you said you would be?

exploding with new life with every passing moment?

Thursday, December 20, 2012

dark night & the thought of Henri Bergson


                                          

                     Grimes - Oblivion





You hear a lot about holism these days. They say every thing is one organism, and yes, while that maybe true, unless we come to understand how things function together we really don't comprehend holism. Granted holism will always conceals most of it's mystery, to understand holism is to grasp the absolute... which is imposable, but some thinkers do get closer then others. Henry Bergson is among the most integrative thinkers of the western philosophical tradition. Dreams have long been investigated for hidden treasures of esoteric meaning, so it seems to me that Henri Bergson's book 'Dreams' would be a great place to start in a revaluation of his thought.




Henri Bergson’s 'Dreams'; unlike most books on the topic, is not psychology, nor is it some other type of inductive investigation into the meaning of dreams. It is a phenomenology of sleep; this means it’s the reported findings of some one that simply pays close attention to the experience of dreaming. This does not mean how ever that it is undisciplined or prejudiced against other types of methodology, there is psychological information in this book, as well as neurological explanations. Contrary to what many philosophers and scholars claim, Bergson is not in any way opposed to these kinds of methods of inquiry, on the contrary he simply seeks to understand, and explain how our human bodies produce meaning from/of our interactions with the world, and like all phenomenologist he uses an appeal to our basic experiences to do this. What really sets Bergson apart from other thinkers is the way he considers a topic from a middle point. When considering the mind and the body, Bergson presents the way our actions draw on experience stored in the mind as images(memory); the circumstance calls for an action, the body searches its past memories(images) for a possible course of bodily action, when is selected and the image(memory) has its baring on the circumstance through bodily movement. There you see, it's all one, continues whole, mind body, thiught action, pretty cool, hu!?





Memory has a different function when we rest, because a resting state is not the kind of circumstance that calls any particular action or image(memories) from our minds, so when our minds relax the images start floating around freely connecting in wild new ways, than we start to dream. 





You can see how this differs from a Freudian type psychological account of dreaming, in that there isn't really any one thing lurking in the sub-conscious mind trying to manifest it's self the way Freud’s sub-conscious does, instead dream images get there meaning from how our waking bodies might interact with them. Only when we no longer need the memories for any particular purpose do our bodies stop trying to call up the necessary images and the images start to float free. Of course this doesn't mean that dreams can't tell us something about ourselves, just not exactly the same sorts of things the Freud supposes they will. Dreams will tell us something of the nature of image and even the mind and body they just won’t tell us some secret about our mothers, or other such soup opera none sense. 



Bergson’s theory is really set apart from other theories of consciousness in that for him no pre-existing set of psychological figures need exist in order for us to make sense of the world or our dreams. For Bergson we make sense of the world through learning, and we learn through connecting actions with past images, so for him we don't need an 'id' to represent our desires, or a Platonic form to make sense of learning. For Bergson Reason is pattern recognition; taking the sense of varies memories and matching them with proper action, it's that simple. 



That might sound boring, "what no creepy esoteric knowledge which only doctors have access to, by which they lord over us, high priests and true authorities over our deepest selves!!!" but this also means that our dreams are free from the bounds of a narrow catalog of possible interpretations, because there simply drawn from life. This doesn't mean that there total chaos, ether, just that their meaning and potential is not entirely disconnected from our lived experience. This is good news for 2 reasons: 1 because we now have an intimate relation to the meaning of our dreams, and 2 because dreaming is now a creative process of invention; it isn't just a specimen to be dissected and studied by the elite doctors of the world. Dreams are now the building blocks of creativity and action.




For those wonderfulearnestindividuals among you that find this topic intriguing and would like to do some further reading of your own I have included a beautiful excerpt from Henry Bergson's book 'Dreams' in which the personified Dream introduces himself with ease and candor, a link to the full copy of the book at internetarcive.com, as well as this link to the Daniel Coffeen lecture by which I first heard the good name of Henry Bergson.

Now for Page 43 to 50 of "Dreams!!!"

43 DREAMS


But, then, what is the essential differ-


ence between perceiving and dreaming?

What is sleep? I do not ask, of course,

how sleep can be explained physiolog-

ically. That is a special question, and be-

sides is far from being settled. I ask what

is sleep psychologically; for our mind

continues to exercise itself when we are

asleep, and it exercises itself as we have

just seen on elements analogous to those

of waking, on sensations and memories;

and also in an analogous manner combines

them. Nevertheless we have on the one

hand normal perception, and on the other

the dream. What is the difference, I re-

peat? What are the psychological charac-

teristics of the sleeping state?



We must distrust theories. There are

a great many of them on this point. Some

say that sleep consists in isolating oneself

from the external world, in closing the

senses to outside things. But we have

shown that our senses continue to act dur-

ing sleep, that they provide us with tjie

outline, or at least the point ojf departure,

of most of our dreams. Some say: "To







^ 44 DREAMS



go to sleep is to stop the action of the su-

perior faculties of the mind," and they talk

of a kind of momentary paralysis of the

higher centers. I do not think that this is

much more exact. In a dream we become

no doubt indifferent to logic, but not in-

capable of logic. There are dreams when

we reason with correctness and even with

subtlety. I might almost say, at the risk

I of seeming paradoxical, that the mistake ol

the dreamer is often in reasoning too much.

He would avoid the absurdity if he would

remain a simple spectator of the proces-

sion of images which compose his dream.

But when he strongly desires to explain

it, his explanation, intended to bind to

gether incoherent images, can be nothing

more than a bizarre reasoning which

verges upon absurdity. I recognize, in

deed, that our superior intellectual facul

ties are relaxed in sleep, that generally the

logic of a dreamer is feeble enough and

often resembles a mere parody of logic.

But one might say as much of all of our

faculties during sleep. It is then not by

the abolition of reasoning, any more than







DREAMS 45



by the closing of the senses, that we char-

acterize dreaming.



Something else is essential. We need

something more than theories. We need

an intimate contact with the facts. One

must make the decisive experiment upon

oneself. It is necessary that on coming out

of a dream, since we cannot analyze our-

selves in the dream itself, we should watch

the transition from sleeping to waking, fol-

low upon the transition as closely as pos-

sible, and try to express by words what we

experience in this passage. This is very

difficult, but may be accomplished by

forcing the attention. Permit, then, the

writer to take an example from his own

personal experience, and to tell of a recent

dream as well as what was accomplished

on coming out of the dream.



Now the dreamer dreamed that he was

speaking before an assembly, that he was

making a political speech before a political

assembly. Then in the midst of the audi-

torium a murmur rose. The murmur aug-

mented; it became a muttering. Then it

became a roar, a frightful tumult, and







46 DREAMS



finally there resounded from all parts

timed to a uniform rhythm the cries, "Out!

Out!" At that moment he wakened. A

dog was baying in a neighboring garden,

and with each one of his *Wow-wows"

one of the cries of "Out! Out!" seemed to

be identical. Well, here was the infinitesi-

mal moment which it is necessary to seize.

The waking ego, just reappearing,

should turn to the dreaming ego, which

is still there, and, during some instants at

least, hold it without letting it go. "I

have caught you at it! You thought it was a

crowd shouting and it was a dog barking.

Now, I shall not let go of you until you

tell me just what you were doing!" To

which the dreaming ego would answer, "I

was doing nothing; and this is just where

you and I differ from one another. You

imagine that in order to hear a dog bark-

ing, and to know that it is a dog that barks,

you have nothing to do. That is a great

mistake. You accomplish, without suspect-

ing it, a considerable effort. You take

your entire memory, all your accumulated

experience, and you bring this formidable







DREAMS 47



mass of memories to converge upon a sin-

gle point, in such a way as to insert ex-

actly in the sounds you heard that one of

your memories which is the most capable

of being adapted to it. Nay, you must ob-

tain a perfect adherence, for between the

memory that you evoke and the crude sen-

sation that you perceive there must not be

the least discrepancy; otherwise you would

be just dreaming. This adjustment you can

only obtain by an effort of the memory

and an effort of the perception, just as the

tailor who is trying on a new coat pulls

together the pieces of cloth that he adjusts

to the shape of your body in order to pin

them. You exert, then, continually, every

moment of the day, an enormous effort.

Your life in a waking state is a life of la-

bor, even when you think you are doing

nothing, for at every minute you have to

choose and every minute exclude. You

choose among your sensations, since you

reject from your consciousness a thousand

subjective sensations which come back in

the night when you sleep. You choose, and

with extreme precision and delicacy, among







48 DREAMS



your memories, since you reject all that do

not exactly suit your present state. This

choice which you continually accomplish,

this adaptation, ceaselessly renewed, is the

first and most essential condition of what is

called common sense. But all this keeps

you in a state of uninterrupted tension.

You do not feel it at the moment, any more

than you feel the pressure of the atmos-

phere, but it fatigues you in the long run.

Common sense is very fatiguing.



"So, I repeat, I differ from you pre-

cisely in that I do nothing. The effort

that you give without cessation I simply

abstain from giving. In place of attach-

ing myself to life, I detach myself from it.

Everything has become indifferent to me.

I have become disinterested in everything.

To sleep is to become disinterested. One

sleeps to the exact extent to which he be-

comes disinterested. A mother who sleeps

by the side of her child will not stir at the

sound of thunder, but the sigh of the child

will wake her. Does she really sleep in

regard to her child? We do not sleep in

regard to what continues to interest us.







DREAMS 49



"You ask me what it is that I do when I

dream? I will tell you what you do when

you are awake. You take me, the me of

dreams, me the totality of your past, and

you force me, by making me smaller and

smaller, to fit into the little circle that you

trace around your present action. That is

what it is to be awake. That is what it is to

live the normal psychical life. It is to bat-

tle. It is to will. As for the dream, have

you really any need that I should explain

it? It is the state into which you naturally

fall when you let yourself ^o, when you no

longer have the power to concentrate your-

self upon a single point, when you have

ceased to will. What needs much more to

be explained is the marvelous mechanism

by which at any moment your will obtains

instantly, and almost unconsciously, the con-

centration of all that you have within you

upon one and the same point, the point that

interests you. But to explain this is the

task of normal psychology, of the psychol-

ogy of waking, for willing and waking are

one and the same thing."



This is what the dreaming ego would say.







50 DREAMS



And it would tell us a great many other

things still if we could let it talk freely.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Pro-Life (a poem about law)

The state the state the state the state the state the state




The state is the state of things

The state is force pure and simple

glass of water

the police force is the mindless extension of the law

If a police officer makes up his own mind then he is no longer the law

the police are the force of policy

on your life



it's through inspectors and cops that the law shapes your life

just like progaming a computer code
everything is shaped by the code of law

Your house, your block, sound, your money, your food, your radio, your religion, your education, the direction you go on the road, what kind of vehicles go on the road, the color of almost ever thing, what things can be done in which kinds of buildings, the rectangle shape of buildings, the checkerboard shape of almost everything including buildings, which animals live in your neighborhood, and how many animals there are, your transpiration, even yourself, your soul

Is the United States the police of the world?



Law is a concrete metaphysic

a machine schematization of life as we know it.

They say without law it would be chaos!!!

Everything we know is law.

But laws can be changed

Then life will change!!



The word cosmos means order

The law is the cosmos pure and simple



Be not of the Law

The law knows absolutely nothing of life

Even though the law came through life

Maybe it was necessary?

She’s blind



The law brings death



can you imagine a world shaped by life instead of life shaped by the world



John the revelator said that you will never know life through examination of law

the law is blind



This blind stupid thing shapes every part of our existence, and we let it

The more we let it the more we are it



But what is existence without law?

Anarchy?



I purpose a new arky--ZoeArky or Zoarky

What would it be like if life was the highest authority?



Think of the torture that law inflicts on life; war, deadlines, capital punishment, a never ending list of fees to lend more order to your life.



Is the law really to protect life and property? Or to steel it.



And you imagine a world without law

it would be chaos wouldn't it





(listening to music) Grimes .


Grimes "live" in the studio.
                                
My Cousin Anders showed me this and it's really got me now.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

dead-air of the network and the Object Oriented thought of Graham Harman.





Hi, no body! I know you’re reading this, and before I get into anything to heavy tonight I just want to thank you so much for listening to a lonely sole, it means more to me then you would ever know.




Man, there's got to be trillions of me out there, sorry bitches typing out there souls into an vast empty plain, vacuum clean nothing, internet! Who the hell is ever going to hear any of this atomic diy batting, the masters of nobodies and any bodies’ free willing expiration! Is this you’re information revaluation!?! Nobody listens
to anybody; no one knows anything everyone just dancing with their selves!! McLuhan was right, we set out for a social network but got egoistic islands , everyone is painfully alone, can't stop talking about the community, can't get enough shallow interaction, social anemia , it's a sickness, an orgy of weeping sad hippies!!! That’s the age we live in!! Not the utopian one world of love they promised us, a no-world of lust and contempt, and that’s it.

If you don't believe me now talk to me in 6 months, you'll see.



Sorry folks, that the way it is.



Now, how was my day? Fine, it was fine. On this new schedule I stay up all night working then I go home and go along my day with all the early birds until about 3 when I collapse out of sheer extortion, if you've never done this then you wouldn’t know that day light is actaly far more offensive then you could ever imagine, it burns like hell. Well I guess it's all a matter of perspective isn't it.



After I arrived home in the morning I read the first a portion of the 2ed chapter of Graham Harman's "prince of networks" about the actor-network theorist Bruno Latour, his work and thought. Actor-network theory is a school of philosophy that claims that all things act on all other things in other words it all doesn't hinge on us humans."No object is inherently reducible or irreducible to any other."* in other words it is a radical claim that each thing makes the universe through acting on other things and is at the same time unnecessary in the making of the universe, because other things would continue to act without it, that is that the universe would go on without it. Latour is actually the founder of the discipline and really does have some good ideas about the networks and the objects and identity and every thing, the book of course is written by Graham Harman so it's his take.



Latour and Harman use the term actant to describe their basic unit of identity, as opposed to terms like subject, desien, signified, EST. To Latour and Harman representational thought is limited in understanding the universe because it makes one thing stained in for another thing which can never be entirely identical, and that at its best representations is only redundancy. They purpose instead that we think of each thing as an actent that acts on other things in order to exists, but their theory is deliberately anti-correlationist, which is to say they believe that each thing has a significant existence even without contact with human consciousness. At first this claim could be kind of offence and I admit that I too was offended when I heard this: "yeah, but you wouldn’t even know it exists without contact with it!!", "Phenomenologist (one of their assumed villains) don't deny that reality can be independent of human perception!!" "But humans do exist and they do correlate with other things!!" But after reading a little bit of this Object Oriented Ontology stuff I'm starting to understand what their getting at.



An object is inexorable and has an identity independent of the other things it interacts with. For one thing there is a sense in which we understand our selves in the light of the objects that surround us, this is part of Heideggers claim, but for Latour and Harman we know our selves because the objects that we interact with don't entirely give into our will, which is they resist us. This resistance is part of the way they act on us, and is the meaning of their "relative" independent from us. The radical part comes in when they show how objects act on each other, one such example is two atoms hitting each other:



“Every actant is fully deployed in the networks of the world, with nothing hidden beneath all the surface-plays of alliance. It is fair enough to call the world a site of immanence, as long as we reject any notion that immanence means ‘inside of human awareness’. For Latour, two atoms in collision are immanent even if no human ever sees them, since both expend themselves fully in the labor of creating networks with other actants. ‘Since whatever resists is real, there can be no “symbolic” to add to the “real”[…]. I am prepared to accept that fish may be gods, stars, or food, that fish may make me ill and play different roles in origin myths […]. Those who wish to separate the “symbolic” fish from its “real” counterpart should themselves be separated and confined’ (PF,p188). What is shared in common by marine biologists, the fishing industry, and tribal elders telling myths about icthyian deities is this: none of them really know what a fish is. All must negotiate with the fish’s reality, remaining alert to its hideonts, migrational patterns, and sacral or nutritional properties.”(38)



There’s lots pact into this little quote it is a heavy hitter: immanence is not thoughts being inside a subject, but the general ability for one thing to effect or act on another, this is true of Delueze's notion of immanence as well, immanence-in-itself, as well as N.O. Lossky's 'immanence of everything in everything,' albeit for Delueze in a vitalistic way, and for N.O. Lossky's in the form of Russian idealism. The whole point is though that these systems are independent form human interpretation. Delueze and N.O. Lossky's would both agree that the symbolic is real but in different ways. For N.O. Lossky's the symbolic is a priory and for Delueze it emerges from, and has a reciprocal relationship with the material world, but Latour and Harman don't really want to draw the battle lines there they seem to want to draw the battle lines in terms of epistemology, they simply wont to preserve the being of the fish to its self, and allow knowledge to be the ways fish act on us humans. They want us to admit that this knowledge is limited, but not entirely accessible. At one point they use the assessable of a window washer that tilts his head to see if the smug is on the inside or the outside of the glass, for Latour & Harman objects always determine the nature of action in this way. Another thing I like about this last passage is how it shows that a characteristic like divinity or deliciousness are only descriptions of the way an actants acts on other actants, but are non the less really happening.



Another term used in the book is 'black box', which is the name for the mystery that surrounds an actent and is often necessary for its functioning. A 'black box' is a skipping of steps in order to ovoid fussing with endless speculation, and just get right to the expected resolution. Now that I'm thinking about it, this blog is like a 'black box' because no one reads it, it just gets skipped over. This is how Harman describes the concept:



“Black boxes face two primary and opposite dangers: too much attention from other actants, or too little. When a black box receives too little attention, it is simply ignored. And this is the fate of most of the objects in the world. We are surrounded by trillions of actants at any given moment, and overlook the vast majority of useless flies, beetles, and electrons that swarm amidst our more treasured objects. Most patents are for inventions that never catch on in the market, or are never built at all. Most novels and scholarly articles go entirely unread: not criticized, but simply overlooked. Black boxes go nowhere if they fail to become obligatory points of passage for other entities. The second danger for black boxes is the opposite one—that of gaining too much interest in the form of skepticism and scrutiny. The work of the fraudulent South Korean clone doctor was not over looked, and neither was that of Utah’s failed cold fusion researchers. Instead, their black boxes were torn open and laid waste by sophisticated doubters. We do not want our love letters to arrive unnoticed, but neither do we wish them to be challenged or critiqued, their grammar marked with red ink.”(50)



So there you have it, this dame blog and many many like it are 'black boxes' are just skipped over, in such a way that they become powerless in their inability to act on any other objects. Trillions of blogs out there have there our independent being apart from any readership or many time even any attention from there writers, but none the less have they being in themselves and have their own innate action that could have an effect on the world, but that’s not quite right because in another place Harman explains that each object is negotiating with other objects in order to gain more prevalence, and that apart from this negotiation the object has no other power. So this pathetic little blog is pretty much dead in the water. As Herman states:



"Actants are always completely deployed in their relations with the world, and the more they are cut off from these relations, the less real they become."(19)



So I am actually becoming more and more unreal as I type this with every new word even the pretty much none existent readers of this blog are leaving, and literally taking this blogs existence with them. But wait isn't the whole point of Object Oriented philosophy to safe guard objects from those that would like to think that they can control them meanly by their intentions and attention! Hm?!





"Actors become more real by making larger portions of the cosmos vibrate in harmony with their goals, or by taking detours in their goals to capitalize on the force of nearby actants. For Latour, the words ‘winner’ and ‘loser’ are not inscribed in inscribed in the essence of a thing, since there is no essence in the first place. Any actant has a chance to win or lose, though some have more weaponry at their disposal. Winners and losers are inherently equal and must be treated symmetrically. The loser is the one who failed to assemble enough human, natural, artificial, logical, and inanimate allies to stake a claim to victory. The more connected an actant is, the more real; the less connected, the less real. "(19)



What a wonders statement, reality is not constituted by human attention necessarily, but just the tension of the some of its parts, those parts intern only have share in reality insofar as they influence other such parts. I sense a mite bit of Nietzsche in this highly competitive view of the world. It's like Friedrich Nietzsche's will to power mines am a fotie. I also see someone you wouldn’t expect allied with Nietzsche, the Russian Christian idealist philosopher N.O. Lossky. For Lossky absolute value of any what he calls an agent is entirely derived from its ability to join the eternal through influence on other such agents, for Lossky this is part of the way this world is joined to the Divine Trinity, but on the converse just like Latour N.O. Lossky considers an agents inability to connect with other such entities as resulting in its eventual annihilation.





"Returning periodically to his former activities, an
individual does not simply repeat them, but sometimes he perfects them in accordance with his creative inventive ability in the sense of attaining a somewhat greater fullness of content. Usually, however, these changes are insignificant, so that the type of action remains the same.
Any considerable step forward in the achieving of the
fullness of content usually requires the removal of certain
Forms of egoistic exclusiveness and the transition to a
new type of life, to a higher level of it. "(90)



Inspite of Lossky's perfound differences from Latour in terms of their views on things like transcendence and humanity they both manage to share the idea that an actent actually becomes more real through its influence on other actents. Something else I'm noticing is that while Lossky shares a view that an increase in influence makes something more real. Latour dramatically contrasts Nietzsche in that where as for Nietzsche the repeatability of an event, in the form of an eternal return, lends value to that event, for Lossky repeatability amounts to mechanization and the loss of individual value.



Oh well, all this hope for meaning is grand and all, but really it's clear that this blog is doomed for annihilation, and really I think Latour is right, it's because it will never make the "cosmos vibrate" in "harmony with their goals," and this isn't do to some essence of the blog, each one is different, it's simply the "weaponry at their disposal," it just has absolutely no "allies," and that’s all there is to it.



Thursday, December 13, 2012

Over cast

The tragic events of yesterdays Town Center Shooting are not sitting well with me. This is of course how people usually feel about these things, but for me it's different, I feel as though I am entangle in this event in some in-explicable way, like those victims are somehow my brothers and sisters and that shooter is some sort of long lost school chum. I know this sound’s totally crazy but it's not, I of course I don't mean any of this literally I mean it in a mythological sense, in a sense outside the normal categories of sanity and insanity. It's more like the weird sanity of a dream, you would never try the things you do in your dreams in real life, but somehow they make sense as long as you’re asleep, it is in this sense that I feel connected to these people, through dreams and moods, deep sorrow. I in no way think that these connections could ever be actuated in any other way but to cause me deep emotion stirrings.

 In spite of this lingering uncomfort, today was somewhat more light then yesterday, today I didn't go to sleep right after work, same as yesterday, but today it wasn't because I wasn't wired it was because I had slept late in the day yesterday, and I was now on a different sleep schedule.

When I got off work 7:30AM I went home and took a shower then I called my cousin and asked if he wanted to go to breakfast, he did, it took awhile to worked out the details but aventaly I was in red 1998 Volvo and driving out to Hokinson where he was. We went to Hokinson café' which is actually in Battle Ground. Battle Ground is the place I went to high school, there was no battle there, Chef Untuk and Captain Strong reached a truce and the town was named after the none-existent battle between them, maybe they did have a battle in a way, one without blood. Where are all the sons and daughters of Chef Untuk now? They must be out there somewhere.
At the café' we chatted about music mostly, Bjork has great videos, Modest Mouse is a philosopher a master dialection, books too; Kerouac puts his philosophical perspective in his visions of Cody, Hemingway starts out his novels with social-philosophical imperatives, Kerouac is not really a chauvininite, but it's a stretch to call him a saint, kind of a reluctant swinger maybe, not excusable as a man of his time or any of that bullshit, but he loved his mother, and he loved the mother of God, and when it's all said and done he's a sweat guy not at all bitter tworred women, a dam good writer.

There’s that passage in Drama Bums where he solves the problems of cruelty toward animals through mediation and mystical revelation. I like that!

At one point Anders my cousin looks up and started to say, “this is place is still kind of ol'...." as the man seated behind me lifted his I-Pad to his face... "Well" Anders continues on a new path, "you would be crazy not to have one of these smart phones, that is if you can afford it, there just to helpful," I roll my eyes,(just joking) I node politely, it's a good thing isn't it. In between conversing we kept talking about how nice everything was; the gray over cast clouds, the food, all the nice people, I started to get the impression it wasn't really about these things but the burnet waitress instead. She had a longish face, lots of dark brown curly hair, and a lean figure with somewhat wide hips, and incredible checks, and full lips. Yeah it was all about the waitress, just like a Kerouac novel. She was some gone girl or whatever.

After that we went to pick up Anders's tux for his brother’s wedding at Loid center mall. The journey became increasingly drogues’ as I got more and more tired. While he was in the store I saw two old guys sleeping on big sofa chairs in the spinal aria of the mall, I found my own char, and when I sat down I noticed this really large couple going to town on each other’s face 20 feet infount of me, it was only like 3 secants, I swear, and the guy noticed I saw him, I didn't see his expiration because I looked away, it was really stupid, I didn't feel like a pervert or anything, they were just right in my line of site, after that I just closed my eyes and took a nap--until Anders got out of the store.

I'm thinking about the shooter now, I really just need to find something else to think about. Why would somebody do something like that? Just stop thinking about it!!!

When I dropped Anders off at my folks place my body was really starting to fatigue, I was rambling bout God, and Anders was taking pictures the rainbow of oil on the driveway, I decided to go to sleep there, found a couch, and crashed. When I woke up my folks where in the room getting ready to watch some music videos, they asked if I wanted them to let me sleep, and I said I was ready to get up, so they put on a Rich Mullins video. Rich Mullins was a Christian music artist from the early nineties, his music is up lifting late 80's soft pop,(to soft for me) some times he's a bit angular though,(which I like). One thing is He's pretty un- self conscious (which can be a good thing or a bad). He was vary popular among evangelicals in the 90's and (still highly regarded) so he had a lot of money which he gave away to were wholly shoos and live among native Americans, he's sort of like a Evangelical saint, a high contrast to the lavish pope's of Christian television networking. I don't know if it's because he died in a plane crash or what, but his music seems a little hunted to me, but in a sweat way.


Wednesday, December 12, 2012

nocturnal

The world wobbles through space and I sleep all day like a vampire or other such creature of the night, but alas I have an exquisite excuse, I work the grave at a local mental health facility. Oh praise to the God's of charitable organization! This though as I have said many times before downs a pone me a peculiar and I want to say alien dissipation--I have become a creature of the night!




Normally I go to sleep strait away after I get home at 8am in the morn, but not to day, today I sat up saturated with coffee, listening to strange pod-casts about dead and gone political revolutions, ghosts with visions strange and motivations hard to comprehend in our current techno saturated milieu. Movements like the luddites rageing agents the burgeoning machine of the modern aria. (You would not believe this but as I wrote that last sentence the blast beats of punk band Entombed just abruptly stopped, and looking down at the speakers I see that the power button is depress, but the secrets have been shorted out, uncanny to say the least, the combined affect of too much conspiracy theory, and good timing is kind of freaking me out. Oh well its nothing!) Oh! its was just the power strip, still mighty un-canny don't you think, and really revealing of the nature of superstation.) Anyway I'm running out of money and I haven't paid my rent and it's already the 12th, I don't know what I'm doing, but I feel a sense of immanent doom is a pone me.



So after a morning of wallowing in my den hungry bellied and weird out of my mind I finely fell to sleep, when I awoke the sun had set again and I only an hour from the time I would have to return to work. Now my mood was starting to darken severely, feeling lonelier then ever, and a little discombobulated, I was off to work again.



Ah! I'm so lonely and self-consciously, yet in a very real way, paranoid. I really feel like a different person or like adrift on some dark ocean. How did I get this way?



Now at work my co-worker fills me in on the event of the day. She took some of the client’s shopping for decorations for their holiday party and they fought over fairies or butterflies the whole time. At one point she said a client held up a giant butterfly and said "let’s get this one, oh wait we're not decorating with butterflies I forgot!" "Wait!" I said, "Aren’t they the same thing, fairies and butterflies,  in mythology I mean?" My co-worker was like, "Oh no there different, well there's forest fairies they sometimes disguise themselves as butterfly's and sometimes they have butterfly wings, then you have pixies they have wings like this" and she traces with fingers the two adjacent Mandorla shapes and just as she is about to close them at the bottom she loops out to add to semi circle, "snow fairies have wings that just go up without the circle on the bottom" she sees as she traces them in the air, "and angles have wings with feathers."



So she continues the story, "we were going to go to Clackamas Town Center, but I didn't think it was a good idea because the shooter was still at large," she notices My expression, "you didn't hear about the shooting?" I say, "No!" , I was utterly consumed by the deep darkness of slumber all day, honey!, now I'm really feeling disconnected, a terrible event has taken hold of my far city and I knew absolutely nothing about it, and here is my co-worker entertaining the possibility of shopping at the vary site of this catastrophe, only minutes after it's occurrence, surely I am not myself I'm in another world altogether. God what do I do with this? Everyone is disassociating; reality its self it seems is falling apart. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing, meaninglessness is pone us and the void is surely swallowing us whole. An army of razor toothed butter flies is biting at the bit to utterly destroy all remnants of the snow fairy civilization, for God's sake!!! And this bizarre world is having a greater effect on us then the real shooting of human beings!!!



Welcome to western civilization the supposed bastion of rationality, and progress. Granted this is a special circumstance, being a mental health facility, but you can't tell me that a similar circumstance has not happened to you in your so called normal biennial life. The bottom line is that fantasy has its priority in the day to day realm and that's just the way it is.



But really, really, we all know that tragedy most often affects us in such a way as to make us focus on and blow unimportant detail out of proportion. I guess we could say this is natural, whatever that means.


Now I leave you with 'where is my mind' by the seminal indy band the pixies.





Monday, December 10, 2012

Sufism




"There's a strange frenzy in my head,
of birds flying
each particle circulation on its own.
is the one I love everwhere?"
                                   -Rumi




The film, Sufi Soul: The Mystical Music of Islam, documents the musical traditions of varies Sufi communities from Pakistan to India, it was originally aired on the BBC. The film is hospitable as it presents the shered inheritance of Christianity, Islam, and Judaism in the formation of the Sufi tradition, indeed the narrator informs us that, Islam’s Ramadan has its roots in Christian practice of lent.



Much like the accounts found in the Koran, the Torah, and the Bible, the 'Sufi Soul' starts with a tail of two brothers, the narrator William Dalrymple informs us that there is another side to Islam differing from the one presented by the western media, a peaceful Islam called Sufism. These 2 brother growing form the same soil made their paths to heaven in 2 vary different ways, the one through strict adheres to the practice of daily prayer, the other through the palpable experience of Devin Love in the living creation of Allah.



But the Sufi Soul is not an amalgamated lump of love and peace of a soft headed sort, on the contrary as this film documents Sufism is a dizzying array of divergent expressions of Devin Love, ranging from the rowdy punk like rhapsody of the Turkish tradition to the refined Desmond dervishes rooted in the  formalism of the late 18th century  Ottoman Empire.



And, this all seems appropriate given the vast array of forms found in the world Allah created, and indeed this ontology is bountifully expressed at one point in the film by Nail Kesove; "Everything is whirling in the world from the smallest cell up to the galaxies of the universe, our whirling is to join this universal prayer." Indeed this is a universe and everything in it whirls, but not everything whirls the same, let’s find our way to whirl, in G-d.





link if you would like to perches this dvd form Amazon.

Karlheinz Stockausen's compastion

"What is preservedthe thing or the work of art is a block of sensations, that is to say, a compound of percepts and affects."*

                         
Was Stackhouse a visionary innovator of compound perspectival beings or is he just a decadent charlatan?
Is listening to music in your car the same as listening to music at the DMV?

Is it necessary to spend millians of dollors just to find out? Is this helicopter-string percept worthy of exsistence?

*from page 164 of Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari's What is Philosophy?

un-requited text (poem)




My heart bursts like a grape
All these little over sites are culminating into some great finale my dear
What is it?
Barely tragic, not at all
The leper colony on the edge of time
My own variances
My stabbing in the dark
Alas I am tampered by a great and untimely void

The un-requited text message
Oh bitter and belated pain
"Should I wait for you here!?"
in the empty space of a simple question

Never will I wait again! I will for now and on word always insist on a reply even at the risk of seeming weak

My stomach turns and I wish for sleep for a dream to take me away from you
Kicking and screaming
Believe it or not this is a great triumph for me
I am free to lay myself on the alter over and over again for ever
Turn my simple question into a plea
"Say something, please!"

I am a beast
I am Marty Mcfly with the vanishing hand
I cannot request relief
I am an abomination to your acquaintance
I am eternaly a drift
a true individual
like an astronaut astray in space


Make shore to check the blog archive and read my past entries. Thank you.

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Compound precepts and affects

“What is preservedthe thing or the work of art is a block of sensations, that is to say, a compound of percepts and affects.”*


                                                                                                                                              fix the light
I was on Daniel Coffeen’s site(doctor of the rhtorical arts) this night, and I just so happen to be listening to the Norwegian Black Metal band Burzum, and was struck by the affect produced through the juxtaposition of all the elements; text, background, and music.


Here are some more
compound precepts & affects. 
Consider the way these pictuers change the music.
If you can sense the changing then you understand the concept of the percept.












                                                       Alfred Hitchcock comes to mind.
                                                 

                                   I think this video I took at the prayer office goes quite well too.
video


*from page 164 of Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari's What is Philosophy?




Friday, December 7, 2012

pupil (a poem)

The pupil is a hole
located in the center
of the iris of the eye
that allows light to enter the retina.

when I look at a painting
with these holes
I love the way black pulls me in
Black is the void
always the void

whats an other word for pupil
I hate the word pupil 
iris is a beautiful word
pupil is terrible!

Though pupils themselves are immensely beautiful
I like to look into the void of an eye
and watch it grow
I like when her iris are so
dark I can't distinguish them from her pupils
and I sink deep into the hole and am utterly consumed by it's void
sailing in an infinite ocean of black
and all I can think is some how I'm finding you
I'm your rescue





 

Thursday, December 6, 2012

A poem or something like that

God hates it when I masturbate
I know this
no! I really know this like you know when your hungry
I know this not because any one told me this
because, I'm not kidding, no one has ever told me that masturbation is bad
Much less that God hates it.
I think its because they where all to humiliated to say any thing
I feel it in my body \ its like a chaos pattern
I just know because every time I do it I feel like God hates it
How the fuck am I supposed to know any thing except in this way

and I'm sorry if you have no shame in masturbating and this post offends you
because I really don't want you to feel shame for something that I can't see how it could effect any one else
but if you do feel shame from reading this post then you've totally mist the point
because

1. no one else except my self makes me feel this way so you feeling shame from reading this is entirely different from my shame.
and
2. I don't want you to feel shame

this I realize,  no one is going to read this post, when I realize this I decide to write what ever I wan't, and what I want to write is the I am incredibly depressed at this moment


do I have to be strong for others?
I thought venerability is strength!!!
but this is to far I know.

well maybe I should say something up lifting to get out of this hole
I have seen the end
my memory is getting stronger
now that I'm not afraid of it any more
I have a good job
I like some of the music thats on the radio now
I passed my drivers test, the 2ed time I took it
by cheating
I didn't know it was cheating
but I would have done it any way if I thought I could get away with it
I'm regaining my love for music and art
this is a really big deal

Portland is a lot more boring then it looks
It is a lonely sad city
its cold
I can't imagine how bad Seattle or Vancouver B.C. must be there even colder
Im developing an acute case of a gore a phobia
I love your sadness
Its like your dead
I love your sadness because I can't find it through your death, and I miss it
I'm turning into an old man and I like it
I don't like it
because I'm alone and scared to death
I think I took a rung turn some where and I really cant get back

I'm going to build asubterranean drill machine and burrow into the core o the earth
why?
for the warmth

I think Obama is an idiot
I'm an idiot too
but surprisingly Obama is a bigger idiot than me
he hired B.P. to do their own clean up
thats like having Charlie Manson do his own forensics
I feel bad for Obama
how can he live with him self
I don't know

I can hardly live with my self

think of something up lifting

reality is so rich only in my wildest dreams could I make something better

Mit Romany; glad he didn't win the election
barley glad
he sucks
"Corporations are people, my friend!"
those where his words

well...
God loves us no mater what we do
I know this is true
because I feel it even when I hate my self the most
so there you have it

I wish you could scientifically disprove that too
but it's really a stupid thing to wish for

I am an alien from the planet despair
actually I'm from the planet Orthodox
which circles the black hole of despair

I love emptiness
emptiness is possibilities

I hate having to plan
I hate order and any thing of the cosmos

the word world in the bible is translated from the greek word cosmon
meaning order, political, and natural
I hate the cosmos
I hate the world in the biblical sense

I love every one even Obama and Romney
I just hate that they where our only choices for president in the last election
where are all the good people
God looked through out the land and he only found one good man
Nowah!!!

Well thats it