Friday, August 22, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
attention spans part two, by sammygibble
i agree with you (dominick) about attention spans. i also think that people with short attention spans have them because they are obsessed with doing only that which they are completely passionate about, they are committed to not comprimising their passions for something that doesnt consume them, that doesnt provide flow, to not bearing what they kind of enjoy in the name of waiting to do what they really love one day down the road. at least this what i like to think. or how i like to excuse myself.
everything is fuzzing together, by sammygibble
in a few days i will be posting here more frequently. i dont know if thats a good thing or not.
sitting in the car, suffocating on my own mucus boogering up my nose because i apparently was having a reaction of some sort to something outside, i thought a little bit about how much i think, or no better yet, try to plan and look forward to things, particularly things that never seem to materialize. and im thinking now that that is a problem. not that its inherently a problem; plans arent always bad. but im a master, obsessive planner. lists, lists, lists, ideas for my wonderful life. but where is it? where isn't it? its right around me but ignoring it because im caught up inside myself planning what im going to do tonight or tomorrow or next month, thinking about how wonderful things will be. what, next month when im sitting on my ass planning out the next month? i guessssss
no. i think i will reach my own form of "enlightenment" (which really doesnt mean anything) when i finally learn to really meld into the moment, completely consumed by my environment, instead of pretending im a spectator which is what i usually do in most circumstances. lie on the road and stare at its grain, not thinking about it with my mind but experiencing it with that other thing. that other thing.
one day i was staring at the grain of wood on my bed and i only hope i can return to how i felt in that moment. there was nothing before me or after me. the bed wasnt a bed, the wall not a wall, the floor not a floor. it was all one thing or better yet it wasnt a "thing". i felt like i was more closely seeing my environment for what it was (which still isnt true because really i dont think anyone can). there were no stops and starts, no zombie like fuzzing out all that was in front of me or IN me, part of me, me, it, us, we.
what?
sitting in the car, suffocating on my own mucus boogering up my nose because i apparently was having a reaction of some sort to something outside, i thought a little bit about how much i think, or no better yet, try to plan and look forward to things, particularly things that never seem to materialize. and im thinking now that that is a problem. not that its inherently a problem; plans arent always bad. but im a master, obsessive planner. lists, lists, lists, ideas for my wonderful life. but where is it? where isn't it? its right around me but ignoring it because im caught up inside myself planning what im going to do tonight or tomorrow or next month, thinking about how wonderful things will be. what, next month when im sitting on my ass planning out the next month? i guessssss
no. i think i will reach my own form of "enlightenment" (which really doesnt mean anything) when i finally learn to really meld into the moment, completely consumed by my environment, instead of pretending im a spectator which is what i usually do in most circumstances. lie on the road and stare at its grain, not thinking about it with my mind but experiencing it with that other thing. that other thing.
one day i was staring at the grain of wood on my bed and i only hope i can return to how i felt in that moment. there was nothing before me or after me. the bed wasnt a bed, the wall not a wall, the floor not a floor. it was all one thing or better yet it wasnt a "thing". i felt like i was more closely seeing my environment for what it was (which still isnt true because really i dont think anyone can). there were no stops and starts, no zombie like fuzzing out all that was in front of me or IN me, part of me, me, it, us, we.
what?
George Washington, by Dominick
George Washington crossing the Delaware on Humble Knee, stern and poised as his heritage and the cold mist filled his marrow like little clear bubbles, strengthening his character, focusing his wisdom into a narrow channel, forming a conception for a New Nation-- clearing wake triumphantly behind him (is it going to capsize that other boat gee I don't know) recalling Herman Melville's spunk and spontaneity and the mallards and the plankton are pushed aside by force of will alone as the hull cut across the calm green blue all for certain fruit shaped glucose-filled snacks floating in mid air: why a commercial of course!
Having a long attention span, by Dominick
Having a long attention span simply means that you do not enjoy the activity at hand or are indifferent to it, and you are hoping that you will enjoy it somewhere down the line. This never happens.
Having a short attention span means you have a zest for learning and mastering the activity, but once you have you want to move on to the next.
Pick one.
Having a short attention span means you have a zest for learning and mastering the activity, but once you have you want to move on to the next.
Pick one.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
I just want to meet open minded people, by Dominick
In reality
I believe that there are aspects of myself that are not accepted by most people that I have encountered in life. These aspects mostly represent known flaws in my character. I am looking for someone who will overlook these flaws in my personality that I am unwilling to change myself due to apathy and lack of convictions. People with strong convictions of the world frighten me because I have not developed my own inner voice and learned to think for myself. Therefore, my ideal person should be willing to listen to my willingly uniformed mind blab about anything with no logical or moral grounding and merely accept these outbursts as a construct of my personality.
I believe that there are aspects of myself that are not accepted by most people that I have encountered in life. These aspects mostly represent known flaws in my character. I am looking for someone who will overlook these flaws in my personality that I am unwilling to change myself due to apathy and lack of convictions. People with strong convictions of the world frighten me because I have not developed my own inner voice and learned to think for myself. Therefore, my ideal person should be willing to listen to my willingly uniformed mind blab about anything with no logical or moral grounding and merely accept these outbursts as a construct of my personality.
A potentially interesting video game
This is something I just got around stirring in my head. Imagine a video game where the main tenants of it are th same as an rpg, but outside, say, on above a split screen there lies a maze, an obstacle course if you will, and the main objective of the game is to get through this obstacle course of enemies, environmental obstacles and other nuances. The player will have no direct control over his character's interaction with this environment, as his progress in this will only be due to the training he receives at the direction of the player.
The player is directly responsible for the nurturing and development of his character as per normal rpg mechanisms-- training, interacting with people, interacting with the environment, etc. The playable environment will mainly consist of a Zelda-like world, or a compostite world of basically any other medieval themed rpg.
You have a specific amount of time to train your character to the best of your abilities to deal with the maze that lingers on the top half of your screen. It is your responsibility to train your character in such a way that it will be conducive to conquering the environment. For example, if you observe a metal plated enemy in the maze, it would not be wise to develop weapons or skills that will not pierce his armor.
Once your time is up, you are thrust into the maze where your player is automatically controlled by the system of variables you set for it when training. You will get to observe your character dealing with this maze with the skills you taught him. If your character fails to get all the way through the maze and is felled by an enemy or an obstacle, you will be placed with your character again in its base state--with no skills and with the ever lingering time limit. However, the maze will be in the same state as you left it, with enemies and obstacles regenerating periodically with time. This time, it will be up to you when you want to be thrust back into the maze. The longer you wait, the more arduous the maze will become.
The mission is yours, should you choose to accept it.
The player is directly responsible for the nurturing and development of his character as per normal rpg mechanisms-- training, interacting with people, interacting with the environment, etc. The playable environment will mainly consist of a Zelda-like world, or a compostite world of basically any other medieval themed rpg.
You have a specific amount of time to train your character to the best of your abilities to deal with the maze that lingers on the top half of your screen. It is your responsibility to train your character in such a way that it will be conducive to conquering the environment. For example, if you observe a metal plated enemy in the maze, it would not be wise to develop weapons or skills that will not pierce his armor.
Once your time is up, you are thrust into the maze where your player is automatically controlled by the system of variables you set for it when training. You will get to observe your character dealing with this maze with the skills you taught him. If your character fails to get all the way through the maze and is felled by an enemy or an obstacle, you will be placed with your character again in its base state--with no skills and with the ever lingering time limit. However, the maze will be in the same state as you left it, with enemies and obstacles regenerating periodically with time. This time, it will be up to you when you want to be thrust back into the maze. The longer you wait, the more arduous the maze will become.
The mission is yours, should you choose to accept it.
Philosophy of Civilization Part II
"People wish to swim and at the same time keep one foot on the ground."
-Marcel Proust
This is an extention of my second article posted on here, My Own Almost-Madness. I hinted that there were some loose ends that needed to be tied up which is what I will ateempt to do in this article. I did ensure for the loose ends to be securley tied in a knot of sanity and eventual happiness for mankind, not for the simple goal of it being accomplished, but because it is what is logical.
First, a few key axioms will be expounded upon here. The first key axiom is that religions are all human created myths, no one has any or has ever had any "supernatural knowledge", God is either an hypothesis of how humanity should live, or an evolutionarly evolved portion of our psyche to help up cope with death. God is also the process of realizing our potential thorugh not repeateing histor'ys mistakes. This may seem like a grim revelation to atheists and believers alike, because it implies that atheism in all of its logical tenants are wrong and also that God in the personal; , entity doesn't exist either. However, God as these concepts is far more powerful than either of these theories. I must stop myself from getting into these concepts any further because they are dangerous to my stability. Just take them as they stand.
For simplicities sake, I will outline a few key tenants of my philosophy rather breifly. First, We must understand why myths are created in the first place, and who creates them. Secondly, we must understand who upholds the myths, and their motivation behind it. The reason why myths are created is to give hope and meaning to our miserable condition. They give us something larger to aspire to and no doubt help in the evolution of our psyche and moral lives as humans, thus ensuring our existence on Earth for a longer period of time: "eternal life". One might try to disrupt this argument by pointing out all of the bloodshed that religion has caused throughout history, but I will be quick to point out that religion is such a powerful way of looking at the world, that its true nature will be ironically distorted by people with power or looking for power. It is obvious that the myths themselves were not created to bring more destruction, but less. Therefore, any destruction that comes out of the myths is not the myths fault, but the humans perversion of the myth for their own selfish ends. Another important tenant is the people that uphold the myths in relation to the people that create the myths. The people that uphold the myths are called Guardians while the creators are called Dreamers. The Guardians always claim universal righteousness because they are guarding the myth at the time,, which at the time, represents the best version of reality for the population that is harboring it. They are wrong in claiming universal righteousness, because they do not forsee the myths changing over time to evolve into newer, better myths that will further serve humanity in its growing potential. The Guardians of the First Myth assume they are equally as right as the Guardians of the present myth. In the grand scheme of things, this is not the case. Remember that history is a cycle of getting closer to a perfect ideal, and the present myth is not the best, but merely the best conceivable one at the time given the circumstances. You may assume this philosophy is flawed because it presumes there is one myth generated which all people in humanity believe in. Because this is not the case, competing myths is another aspect of this I would like to explore. It is important to note that objectivley, there exists a myth that is "the best". For some, this may imply more destruction as history has shown us that settles these so called disputes. It is the nature of humans to be seperate in their own enclaves, and naturally to create their own version of the Earth, their own myths. The quest to find the best universal myth however, should be taken into the realm of academics, not in the realm of human induced power struggles. This is a very difficult task for us it seems, because we let our natural human instincts which the myths themselves try to squelch get in the way of our human reason.
For the purposes of this discourse, let us go back to the start of humanity. One other axiom is that there have always been myths to encompass knowledge that is seemingly out of humans grasp or to teach us how to live an ideal life. Going back to the first myth, we must assume that this one was not satisfactory since it is no longer practiced. For the purposes of this discussion we are talking about myths created in a localized geographical region, not the entire world as a whole, because the entire world as a whole has not grown at the same rate. Somewhere down the line, the first myth was regarded as not adequete anymore. It is then the principle task of the Dreamers to search their and the collective unconscious in order to come up with new myths. The Dreamers task is an extremely important and extremely extremly dangerous one. It is important because all of humanity depends on it, and dangerous because insanity and death can lay on one side of it if not carefully treaded. Many a Dreamer is found on the street corner in the present days in a schizophreinc state, babbling along his conception of humanity. Well, there was a time where these insane people weren't ignored, and they simply created our myths.
Now, the Guardian rarley understands the formation of the myths, but takes them at face value for what they are-- the best version of reality that exists at the present moment. THe Guardian doesn't see the need for the present myth to eventually be disregarded, but this in essence is okay, because if he did, he would not be a very good guardian at all.
Taking these concepts, I'm sure you can fill in the blanks yourself. For humanity to keep perpetuating itself, there needs to be an equal balance of Guardians, Dreamers, Rational Discourse in leu of human power being exerted, and above all, just loving your fucking neighbor.
-
-Marcel Proust
This is an extention of my second article posted on here, My Own Almost-Madness. I hinted that there were some loose ends that needed to be tied up which is what I will ateempt to do in this article. I did ensure for the loose ends to be securley tied in a knot of sanity and eventual happiness for mankind, not for the simple goal of it being accomplished, but because it is what is logical.
First, a few key axioms will be expounded upon here. The first key axiom is that religions are all human created myths, no one has any or has ever had any "supernatural knowledge", God is either an hypothesis of how humanity should live, or an evolutionarly evolved portion of our psyche to help up cope with death. God is also the process of realizing our potential thorugh not repeateing histor'ys mistakes. This may seem like a grim revelation to atheists and believers alike, because it implies that atheism in all of its logical tenants are wrong and also that God in the personal; , entity doesn't exist either. However, God as these concepts is far more powerful than either of these theories. I must stop myself from getting into these concepts any further because they are dangerous to my stability. Just take them as they stand.
For simplicities sake, I will outline a few key tenants of my philosophy rather breifly. First, We must understand why myths are created in the first place, and who creates them. Secondly, we must understand who upholds the myths, and their motivation behind it. The reason why myths are created is to give hope and meaning to our miserable condition. They give us something larger to aspire to and no doubt help in the evolution of our psyche and moral lives as humans, thus ensuring our existence on Earth for a longer period of time: "eternal life". One might try to disrupt this argument by pointing out all of the bloodshed that religion has caused throughout history, but I will be quick to point out that religion is such a powerful way of looking at the world, that its true nature will be ironically distorted by people with power or looking for power. It is obvious that the myths themselves were not created to bring more destruction, but less. Therefore, any destruction that comes out of the myths is not the myths fault, but the humans perversion of the myth for their own selfish ends. Another important tenant is the people that uphold the myths in relation to the people that create the myths. The people that uphold the myths are called Guardians while the creators are called Dreamers. The Guardians always claim universal righteousness because they are guarding the myth at the time,, which at the time, represents the best version of reality for the population that is harboring it. They are wrong in claiming universal righteousness, because they do not forsee the myths changing over time to evolve into newer, better myths that will further serve humanity in its growing potential. The Guardians of the First Myth assume they are equally as right as the Guardians of the present myth. In the grand scheme of things, this is not the case. Remember that history is a cycle of getting closer to a perfect ideal, and the present myth is not the best, but merely the best conceivable one at the time given the circumstances. You may assume this philosophy is flawed because it presumes there is one myth generated which all people in humanity believe in. Because this is not the case, competing myths is another aspect of this I would like to explore. It is important to note that objectivley, there exists a myth that is "the best". For some, this may imply more destruction as history has shown us that settles these so called disputes. It is the nature of humans to be seperate in their own enclaves, and naturally to create their own version of the Earth, their own myths. The quest to find the best universal myth however, should be taken into the realm of academics, not in the realm of human induced power struggles. This is a very difficult task for us it seems, because we let our natural human instincts which the myths themselves try to squelch get in the way of our human reason.
For the purposes of this discourse, let us go back to the start of humanity. One other axiom is that there have always been myths to encompass knowledge that is seemingly out of humans grasp or to teach us how to live an ideal life. Going back to the first myth, we must assume that this one was not satisfactory since it is no longer practiced. For the purposes of this discussion we are talking about myths created in a localized geographical region, not the entire world as a whole, because the entire world as a whole has not grown at the same rate. Somewhere down the line, the first myth was regarded as not adequete anymore. It is then the principle task of the Dreamers to search their and the collective unconscious in order to come up with new myths. The Dreamers task is an extremely important and extremely extremly dangerous one. It is important because all of humanity depends on it, and dangerous because insanity and death can lay on one side of it if not carefully treaded. Many a Dreamer is found on the street corner in the present days in a schizophreinc state, babbling along his conception of humanity. Well, there was a time where these insane people weren't ignored, and they simply created our myths.
Now, the Guardian rarley understands the formation of the myths, but takes them at face value for what they are-- the best version of reality that exists at the present moment. THe Guardian doesn't see the need for the present myth to eventually be disregarded, but this in essence is okay, because if he did, he would not be a very good guardian at all.
Taking these concepts, I'm sure you can fill in the blanks yourself. For humanity to keep perpetuating itself, there needs to be an equal balance of Guardians, Dreamers, Rational Discourse in leu of human power being exerted, and above all, just loving your fucking neighbor.
-
Monday, August 18, 2008
not trying, by sammy
i feel like im trying to hard to orchestrate my posts and its killing my ideas.
ive been thinking a lot about the issue of integrity and its one of the few things really hammering on me lately. i mean of course im a victim of being fake, ingenuine. we all are at times. but i feel like today, its getting worse with the complete integration of the internet and the media into every aspect of our lives. some of us have so many facets and no discernable foundation. most people are so utterly afraid to be naked (you dont have to take that literally) in front of others so we cover ourselves up, distort ourselves, edit ourselves, add color here and take details away there, we sweep over the truth, leave things out and add others in in the name of appeal or beauty or acceptance and all we are left with is some generic facade. and for what reason? is living a lie really less horrible than being seen by others for what you really are even if they happen to dislike it? ive been having these weird urges lately, compulsions almost, to strip away every pretense and mirror and mask ive been suffocating myself under because otherwise im just killing myself. i am not samantha with nice lighting and a friendly camera. i want to present a solitary me to the world, or at least try as hard as i possibly can. living a lie isnt living. sorry if this is a little self indulgent but actually no im not sorry, i dont care.
ive been thinking a lot about the issue of integrity and its one of the few things really hammering on me lately. i mean of course im a victim of being fake, ingenuine. we all are at times. but i feel like today, its getting worse with the complete integration of the internet and the media into every aspect of our lives. some of us have so many facets and no discernable foundation. most people are so utterly afraid to be naked (you dont have to take that literally) in front of others so we cover ourselves up, distort ourselves, edit ourselves, add color here and take details away there, we sweep over the truth, leave things out and add others in in the name of appeal or beauty or acceptance and all we are left with is some generic facade. and for what reason? is living a lie really less horrible than being seen by others for what you really are even if they happen to dislike it? ive been having these weird urges lately, compulsions almost, to strip away every pretense and mirror and mask ive been suffocating myself under because otherwise im just killing myself. i am not samantha with nice lighting and a friendly camera. i want to present a solitary me to the world, or at least try as hard as i possibly can. living a lie isnt living. sorry if this is a little self indulgent but actually no im not sorry, i dont care.
Theres a point of no return in which
if you start to think to yourself
when you are in deep introspection
and you don't know what to think
you say to yourself
"I have a book for that question"
all hope is lost.
You have become a book.
History is filled with them
Gutenberg perpetuated this.
We could have been done with it with a simple fire to woodblocks and ink and arrows.
when you are in deep introspection
and you don't know what to think
you say to yourself
"I have a book for that question"
all hope is lost.
You have become a book.
History is filled with them
Gutenberg perpetuated this.
We could have been done with it with a simple fire to woodblocks and ink and arrows.
Kobe Bryant's greed and lust induced wheelchair based bleak future
I am of the opinion that Kobe Bryant has a decidedly different future ahead of him that not many can forsee.
His bright, physical-based future is about to come to an ironic halt. You see, Kobe has a network of illcit manners he has dipped his oversized feet into.
The first and most glaring of the matters is his involvement in a wheel-chair based mob, that likes to go on random crime sprees across the nation, under the guise of handicapped peoples.
The mob's main rub is that members cannot disclose any information regarding their operation or else beocme a ligitement parapalegic.
Kobe has been talking.
At a press conference on KCAL 9 the other night, he not only spilled the beans of his operation when a particulary inquisitive reporter asked about the ankle braces he forgot to take off from last night's crime run on Main Street. He gleefully and boastfully told of last nights endevours to the furiously scribbling journalist. Cries of shock and alarm were heard from the crowd.
Kobe couldn't escape his dark fate.
When he returned home, at his doorstep were two young men in motorized wheelchairs like the ones they advertise late night on informercials for grandmammy and grandpappy. They pulled out two revolvers, and shot his kneecaps clean off.
Kobe's physical based work-days were over.
Kobe has now taken an interest in pottery, growing dreadlocks, and driving about at in the midnight fog in his combustion based mechanical whel chair. He has used his considereable assets to upgrade to a steam powered one and invested in goggles to keep the bugs out of his vision.
Kobe can be spotted at local parks across the nation with his ever-growing dread locks scraping the pavement, sullenly riding up to old ladies walking their dogs, asking if he might be allowed to pet it. This is spurred by the devastating loss of contact he has had with people and with nature. It gives him hope to go on living.
Kobe's steam-powered anachrostic wheelchair interfers with people's vision and singes their eyebrows clean off when he comes to a complete halt. He needs to work on this.
Kobe Bryant wheels about in Walmarts across the nation, scrounging for discounted AA batteries which he throws into a pile in his home when he returns.
Kobe Bryant looks for old, cardboard based Eddie Murphy dvd's at select retail locations across America. These help him fall asleep at night, where he is greeted by visions of his former great basketball player self. Kobe Bryant does not like sleeping.
Kobe Bryant can be seen at the senior center, explaining his dread locks to the Older Generation, looking for some acceptance and understanding. He is frequently seen collecting aluminum cans like other people of his ilk, but then donates them to traveling destitue hobos in keeping with his new found spirituality in Buddishm—the gift of charity.
Kobe Bryant can now be seen mediating on street corners in his metal encased coffin of a vehicle. Sometimes the local children ask for his blessings.
Kobe Bryant has now become an enlightened Buddha, an envy of all sentient beings. People throw coins into the pouch he has located on his cart for good luck. Kobe Bryant does not mind this.
He uses these funds to purchase twinkies at the local Circle K, Eddie Murphy dvd's and other essentials of this truly remarkable and inspiring figure's life.
Kobe Bryatnt's last wishes were that he were to be encased in copper, and placed in the town centere of an Autrian town, where thousands of people pilgrimage to each year.
His bright, physical-based future is about to come to an ironic halt. You see, Kobe has a network of illcit manners he has dipped his oversized feet into.
The first and most glaring of the matters is his involvement in a wheel-chair based mob, that likes to go on random crime sprees across the nation, under the guise of handicapped peoples.
The mob's main rub is that members cannot disclose any information regarding their operation or else beocme a ligitement parapalegic.
Kobe has been talking.
At a press conference on KCAL 9 the other night, he not only spilled the beans of his operation when a particulary inquisitive reporter asked about the ankle braces he forgot to take off from last night's crime run on Main Street. He gleefully and boastfully told of last nights endevours to the furiously scribbling journalist. Cries of shock and alarm were heard from the crowd.
Kobe couldn't escape his dark fate.
When he returned home, at his doorstep were two young men in motorized wheelchairs like the ones they advertise late night on informercials for grandmammy and grandpappy. They pulled out two revolvers, and shot his kneecaps clean off.
Kobe's physical based work-days were over.
Kobe has now taken an interest in pottery, growing dreadlocks, and driving about at in the midnight fog in his combustion based mechanical whel chair. He has used his considereable assets to upgrade to a steam powered one and invested in goggles to keep the bugs out of his vision.
Kobe can be spotted at local parks across the nation with his ever-growing dread locks scraping the pavement, sullenly riding up to old ladies walking their dogs, asking if he might be allowed to pet it. This is spurred by the devastating loss of contact he has had with people and with nature. It gives him hope to go on living.
Kobe's steam-powered anachrostic wheelchair interfers with people's vision and singes their eyebrows clean off when he comes to a complete halt. He needs to work on this.
Kobe Bryant wheels about in Walmarts across the nation, scrounging for discounted AA batteries which he throws into a pile in his home when he returns.
Kobe Bryant looks for old, cardboard based Eddie Murphy dvd's at select retail locations across America. These help him fall asleep at night, where he is greeted by visions of his former great basketball player self. Kobe Bryant does not like sleeping.
Kobe Bryant can be seen at the senior center, explaining his dread locks to the Older Generation, looking for some acceptance and understanding. He is frequently seen collecting aluminum cans like other people of his ilk, but then donates them to traveling destitue hobos in keeping with his new found spirituality in Buddishm—the gift of charity.
Kobe Bryant can now be seen mediating on street corners in his metal encased coffin of a vehicle. Sometimes the local children ask for his blessings.
Kobe Bryant has now become an enlightened Buddha, an envy of all sentient beings. People throw coins into the pouch he has located on his cart for good luck. Kobe Bryant does not mind this.
He uses these funds to purchase twinkies at the local Circle K, Eddie Murphy dvd's and other essentials of this truly remarkable and inspiring figure's life.
Kobe Bryatnt's last wishes were that he were to be encased in copper, and placed in the town centere of an Autrian town, where thousands of people pilgrimage to each year.
Introverted and Extraverted Thinking Attitudes in Jungian Typology
"The world appears dull and lifeless to the individual who does not know how to channel his energy to outer stimuli" -Carl Jung
For the purposes of this explanation, the Myers-Briggs types culled up for this essay will be INTP and ENTP. The main differences between the types are the attidues of introverted vs. extroverted thinking.
Introverted thinking in the INTP is characterized by abstract, theoretical constructions of reality which serve to the world for the individual. Introverted thinking is impersonal and scientific, it deals with abstract concepts created by modeling the environment at in its essence. For example, the INTP might characterize the outside world as immaterial and not worth getting into, and prefers to delve into theoretical insights far off from perception based reality, or of the senses. This makes the INTP aloof and detached-- with a tendency to be absent minded & unaware of his surroundings.
THe ENTP however is using his/her thinking preferences to define things in the outer world, yet they are colored by the intuition preference just enough so they dont because concrete performers. The ENTP is in touch with his surroundings at all times and tends to diffuse situations with wit and humor. These preferences are unconscious and represent deep ingrained personality traits.
The way for an INTP to become an ENTP is for the subject to channel his thinking proces to his immediate environment. This can be done consciously by defining stimuli that crosses the subject's path. In the INTP the subject is normally unaware of his surroundings because of his penchant for thinking of other things. If he were to start consciously defining his surroundings he would find himself in an entirely different world. Social interaction would now be a peice of cake, tension easily diffused by quick wit and observational humor.
When one is utilizing Extroverted thinking such as in the ENTP, word associations and memories flow from the unconscious freely due to his power of intuition. Introverted thinking is mainly concerned with theoretical abstracts and often oversimplifies the immediate environment. Consequently, the INTP doesn't know how to fit his abstract thoughts into social contexts.
As a condition of the two preferences, two different types of memory are used. In the INTP, the subject remembers his own thought processes the most and stores almost no enviromental cues except for a vague "atmosphere" feeling. Memories of own thought processes can get complicating if reason alone in the situation will not suffice.
The ENTP on the other hand remembers his environment in terms of obervations of connections between people and stimuli.
And that is about as abstract as I'd like to get.
For the purposes of this explanation, the Myers-Briggs types culled up for this essay will be INTP and ENTP. The main differences between the types are the attidues of introverted vs. extroverted thinking.
Introverted thinking in the INTP is characterized by abstract, theoretical constructions of reality which serve to the world for the individual. Introverted thinking is impersonal and scientific, it deals with abstract concepts created by modeling the environment at in its essence. For example, the INTP might characterize the outside world as immaterial and not worth getting into, and prefers to delve into theoretical insights far off from perception based reality, or of the senses. This makes the INTP aloof and detached-- with a tendency to be absent minded & unaware of his surroundings.
THe ENTP however is using his/her thinking preferences to define things in the outer world, yet they are colored by the intuition preference just enough so they dont because concrete performers. The ENTP is in touch with his surroundings at all times and tends to diffuse situations with wit and humor. These preferences are unconscious and represent deep ingrained personality traits.
The way for an INTP to become an ENTP is for the subject to channel his thinking proces to his immediate environment. This can be done consciously by defining stimuli that crosses the subject's path. In the INTP the subject is normally unaware of his surroundings because of his penchant for thinking of other things. If he were to start consciously defining his surroundings he would find himself in an entirely different world. Social interaction would now be a peice of cake, tension easily diffused by quick wit and observational humor.
When one is utilizing Extroverted thinking such as in the ENTP, word associations and memories flow from the unconscious freely due to his power of intuition. Introverted thinking is mainly concerned with theoretical abstracts and often oversimplifies the immediate environment. Consequently, the INTP doesn't know how to fit his abstract thoughts into social contexts.
As a condition of the two preferences, two different types of memory are used. In the INTP, the subject remembers his own thought processes the most and stores almost no enviromental cues except for a vague "atmosphere" feeling. Memories of own thought processes can get complicating if reason alone in the situation will not suffice.
The ENTP on the other hand remembers his environment in terms of obervations of connections between people and stimuli.
And that is about as abstract as I'd like to get.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
sugar crushed, by sammy
i was going to write about being nostalgic for my childhood but i changed my mind. over the past few days i had been having intense urges to revisit aspects of my kinder years. i almost went to burger king and ordered a kids meal. i wanted to subsist on a diet of ice cream and fruity pebbles for a little while because i figured life didnt get better than being being drugged on sugar while not being able to consider or concieve anything going on outside of a 500 ft radius of myself. well now that i think about it, its kind of a naive position to take. you don't enjoy such indulgences so much if you never have to worry about them or limit them or compare them to anything outside of a mindless diet of rainbow bright video games, breakfast cereals and fruit drinks. pure sugar is flat, empty and dull. i want subtle sweetness.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Chinese Checkers, by Dominick
People seem to mistake linear thinking for intelligence. The "smart" person is nothing more than someone is is born onto the hole-ridden plane of a Chinese Checkers board, rightly aligned with a straight and narrow path to the other side. The "smart" person doesn't look for any other path other than the one in front of him--the one that appeals most to the senses and least to the natural human spirit and courage. He follows this path without straying. The player with the most soul and wit will find himself pitter pattering along the board in seemingly different and contradictory directions until he finds the path that seems the most right to him. It is more arduous, but more noble, more careless, but more fulfilling-- who knows what lies on the edge of cardboard playing board of our lives?
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Album review: Blonde Redhead- Misery is a Butterfly, by Dominick
Bursts of yellow guitars envelope your surroundings as you switch on the track "Elephant Woman", filling every orifice in the vicinity with an orangish guey gauze, slightly dripping, only to be siphoned back out by the soothing nasal voice of Kazu, the group's resident nasally singer. The circular pattern of infusion, suction, infusion is repeated throughout the entire album. By the time you get around to the song "Melody" thick creamy chrome waves of melancholy bliss will be pounded against your skull, knocking at the door of your amygdala asking for entrance into the most inner sanctums of repressed thoughts and emotions; subsequently let these out, trample them and spew them across other parts of your brain presumably compromising Broca's Area and the frontal lobe. "Pink Love" will grab those old Valentine's cards you got in grade school from out of your disheveled desk, display them in front of you, and crank your eyelids open in a tremendous display of emotional agony.
"Messenger" is a French impressionist painting; if you look closely at it it looks as if it is nothing but a haze of scattered colors; stand back and you will run into a snooty museum curator. Under intense scrutiny, this album is nothing more than an updated Cocteau Twins effort with the heart-stopping vocals of Liz Frasier being replaced with two stuck up Italian brothers and their sushi eating friend. And theres nothing much at all wrong with that.
Lord this album is powerful. One needs to look only to the cover art and title (am I the only person who READS those things?) to guess what this album may have in store for you. This group featuring two (2) mammalian protuberances also puts on a hell of a great show. I saw them in the quaint Glasshouse in Pomona, California a year ago next week. This album's material was among the most beautiful things that could ever be pumped into your eardrums at 110 decibles. In fact, theres still a boil on my thigh that contains all of the energy absorbed by the performance. Bursting it will send me into a fit of existential depression that can only be cured by dipping my leg into the Well of Healing Blonde Redhead re rumored to have behind their recording studio. Now that is an activity best saved for a rainy day.
www.divshare.com%2Fdownload%2F3885039-9dd
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
A fun-filled, productive fiscal year pt. 2, by Dominick
peak performance come winter thyme. Creativity infused product management. Bottom-line interest malleability. Quality performance initiatives. Credit based stability. Sustainability leased fiscal handling. Firm-regulated supplements. Aided loss prevention. Business model potential layout. Headway through trust. Technical knowledge automation. Workflow layout publication competence. Retrieval assurance localization. Documentation documentation documentation. Streamlined marketplace poise. Reports on every quarter. Fiscal solubility quotient. Disclosure sales figures. Accident prevention resource. Employee stated satisfaction. Sequenced equity review. Graph based margins. Financial evolution stage.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Motivation, by Dominick
It is difficult to tell where a man gets his drive from-- either from his sense of inadequacy or sense of superiority. Certainly not through his sense of ambiguity though. There lies a free-floating nothingness.
Structures, by Dominick
We are the sum of our inconsistencies, contradictions, and past decisions. We are the lie we tell ourself every day. If we were too inspect our DNA close enough we would find multiple discrepancies which would only be remedied by death. Death and lies--the simple denial of these errors.
Every thought we think is built upon a foundation of previous thoughts and decisions. The mortar which holds this together is only as strong as a person's unwillingness to question his building materials and craftsmanship. What if we wanted to go back, and change the blueprint of a certain thought process in order to expand or destroy a certain wing of the building of our personality? What if we decided that we made a mistake, but the brick in which the mistake lies is too far down in the foundation? If we were too remove it we would fall like a Jenga puzzle being played by two patients in the Parkinson's wing of the hospital.
What if, at point b in our lives we are faced with a dilemma that can only be remied by having a certain brick at the mid sections of ourselves removed and replaced with another one of dubious quality? Lets say that in situation A, we need to resources to deal with a social situation we never handled before. Lets say that on July 21st 2008, you made a decision to add a brick to your facade that would only allow you to act in a certain way in situation a, and this method proved to be detrimental to your advancement in the situation as a whole? What you could do is try to remove that brick, and replace it with a more beneficial axiom. However, this brick has the weight of all the other bricks you've added from July 21 2008 to the present built on it. In order to change this aspect of yourself, you would have to go about with your chisel and axe modifiying the other bricks which are dependant on the strength it offers to the ones above it. It would be difficult to compromise the saftey of your whole persona.
Here is where our mortar comes in. Most so called "strong people" use a mortar that is so deceitfully powerful that they never question their engineer-approved structure. Lets say that the brick you placed in July 28th allowed for you to respond to certain stimuli in a negative manner. After this brick is placed, the mortar you use to justify it is "that stimuli doesn't appease me". However, that statement is not necessarily true and is more often than not a justification for the certain action you want to project. Existence precedes essence. We are faced with a reality and then forced to define it. If we now decided that in teh present we want to react to this certain stimuli positivley, we are now faced with the decision to change brands of mortar, that is to replace our justification with another one; a lie with another lie. The more astuley introspective you are, the more aware you are of this almost unconscious process.
The people that "get far in life" are the ones with the "strongest mortar".This is to say that they never question their own foundations. In this sense you are headed for a life that will bombard you with loads of stimuli and decisions but you will never ever crumble due to your strong mortar--your ability to lie to yourself--bad faith.
What if your whole towering, structurally sound building that everyone in society envies is built in the middle of a street or a park or a beach? Then what?
you fuck.
It is then reasonable to conclude that the most honest and thoughtful people crumble and fall under their own weight without a single soul caring as to their strife.
Every thought we think is built upon a foundation of previous thoughts and decisions. The mortar which holds this together is only as strong as a person's unwillingness to question his building materials and craftsmanship. What if we wanted to go back, and change the blueprint of a certain thought process in order to expand or destroy a certain wing of the building of our personality? What if we decided that we made a mistake, but the brick in which the mistake lies is too far down in the foundation? If we were too remove it we would fall like a Jenga puzzle being played by two patients in the Parkinson's wing of the hospital.
What if, at point b in our lives we are faced with a dilemma that can only be remied by having a certain brick at the mid sections of ourselves removed and replaced with another one of dubious quality? Lets say that in situation A, we need to resources to deal with a social situation we never handled before. Lets say that on July 21st 2008, you made a decision to add a brick to your facade that would only allow you to act in a certain way in situation a, and this method proved to be detrimental to your advancement in the situation as a whole? What you could do is try to remove that brick, and replace it with a more beneficial axiom. However, this brick has the weight of all the other bricks you've added from July 21 2008 to the present built on it. In order to change this aspect of yourself, you would have to go about with your chisel and axe modifiying the other bricks which are dependant on the strength it offers to the ones above it. It would be difficult to compromise the saftey of your whole persona.
Here is where our mortar comes in. Most so called "strong people" use a mortar that is so deceitfully powerful that they never question their engineer-approved structure. Lets say that the brick you placed in July 28th allowed for you to respond to certain stimuli in a negative manner. After this brick is placed, the mortar you use to justify it is "that stimuli doesn't appease me". However, that statement is not necessarily true and is more often than not a justification for the certain action you want to project. Existence precedes essence. We are faced with a reality and then forced to define it. If we now decided that in teh present we want to react to this certain stimuli positivley, we are now faced with the decision to change brands of mortar, that is to replace our justification with another one; a lie with another lie. The more astuley introspective you are, the more aware you are of this almost unconscious process.
The people that "get far in life" are the ones with the "strongest mortar".This is to say that they never question their own foundations. In this sense you are headed for a life that will bombard you with loads of stimuli and decisions but you will never ever crumble due to your strong mortar--your ability to lie to yourself--bad faith.
What if your whole towering, structurally sound building that everyone in society envies is built in the middle of a street or a park or a beach? Then what?
you fuck.
It is then reasonable to conclude that the most honest and thoughtful people crumble and fall under their own weight without a single soul caring as to their strife.
And End of an Era: The Nickel Nickel story
Originally written as a response to a post on columnist David Allen’s blog.
I worked at Nickel Nickel from Spring to late Summer 2006, when we eventually shut down.
When the place first opened I was in 4th grade so it must have been around the year 1999/2000. It was a really neat place for a kid because all of the games ran on nickels with a small entrance fee. As I got older and the games became boring, (it didn’t really have top-notch new games like you would find at Gameworks down south at the Mills) the real attraction was the free play games in the back; essentially old classic arcade games like Centipede, Mario Bros, Boxing, etc. Nickel Nickel eventually gained a local base of gamers who would come in regularly, and even some older gamers who heard about the classic games.
Around late 2005, early 2006 the original owners sold it to the final owners (names withheld) and some major changes took place because of it. First of all, they abolished the nickel system for an entry-fee free, (try saying that 5 times fast) to a more traditional system of 25 cent tokens. As you can imagine, this was pretty radical and managed to alienate a large portion of the customer base that the arcade had built since it opened up. In defense of the newly reinstated system though, there was a deal so that if you bought a certain number of tokens it became buy one get one free, and without the entry fee it worked out to be almost the same as with the nickel system. However, when you explain this to customers you find out that making people think only makes them angrier, and filled with an intense desire to shoot you up in a game like "House of the Dead".
My best friend was the manager when I worked there and we both hated the state the arcade was in-- abandoned, slow, and lacking the atmosphere that it used to have. We decided to do something about this, and set about forging a New Era in the Nickel Nickel arcade. At time when the place was nearly dead, me and my friend would have competitions in the Basketball free-throw shot game and invited curious customers to try and beat us and win tokens. This was great fun and we made friends who would come back frequently just for this purpose. One of my favorite memories of this is of a middle aged man named Ramon. This is the only guy who would give me and the manager a run for our money in Basketball; by this time we were experts, sinking 40-50 shots in a minute. Whenever he came in it was an event with the aura of an informal contest as people would gather around and watch the spectacle. Most of the time we were using the tokens we could just grab from the counter as we would play for quite some time. Ramon would then buy us dinner at the Juan Pollo in the same shopping center in retribution. We didn’t really mind because he had is 3 kids in there spending loads of cash on the ticket games (by the way, they’re NOT worth it if you were wondering). Another favorite memory of mine was the local employees at the then Sav-ons, now CVS. When it was particularly dead and on our breaks, we would buy some of those cheap Arizona iced teas (most likely given to us at a "discount", I never looked at the receipts but I know drinks shouldn’t cost 30 cents) and shoot some pool on the new tables we just got in.
Despite the new friends and determination on the part of me and my friend, Summer 2006 was a horrible time business wise for Nickel Nickel. I remember getting sent home early because we had no customers in over an hour. In a succession of brilliantly planned business maneuvers, the owners decided to take out the legendary free-play games in the back (where’d you get that business degree, Chaffey?) because there was no longer a entry fee. They were pushed in the back storage room where they did nothing but rot and get played occasionally at closing time late nights when we were sick of mopping.
By September, we got the inevitable news that the place was shutting down, which didn’t really surprise any of us but was still hard news to bear. The logical thing to do was to have a few late night parties in the children’s party room which led to some of the older employees frantically trying to rid the place of the stench of hookah smoke in time for opening, a hilarious sight. The hardest part of it all was telling the familiar faces that the place was closing its doors forever. When it finally did, it was the end of an era. A dynasty that was founded upon a radical idea that a kid could go into an arcade and play outdated games with change his Mom gave him for cleaning his room or found triumphantly under a couch cushion; a refuge from the blistering Summer heat proudly displayed in triple digits LCD numbers on the bank sign just north of the store like some sort of twisted contest Satan would hold in his den, a place where an underground economy based on basketball free throws and fetid chicken from Juan Pollo flourished...and in its place an empty building where 90 db+ sounds stopped assaulting the walls for good.
I worked at Nickel Nickel from Spring to late Summer 2006, when we eventually shut down.
When the place first opened I was in 4th grade so it must have been around the year 1999/2000. It was a really neat place for a kid because all of the games ran on nickels with a small entrance fee. As I got older and the games became boring, (it didn’t really have top-notch new games like you would find at Gameworks down south at the Mills) the real attraction was the free play games in the back; essentially old classic arcade games like Centipede, Mario Bros, Boxing, etc. Nickel Nickel eventually gained a local base of gamers who would come in regularly, and even some older gamers who heard about the classic games.
Around late 2005, early 2006 the original owners sold it to the final owners (names withheld) and some major changes took place because of it. First of all, they abolished the nickel system for an entry-fee free, (try saying that 5 times fast) to a more traditional system of 25 cent tokens. As you can imagine, this was pretty radical and managed to alienate a large portion of the customer base that the arcade had built since it opened up. In defense of the newly reinstated system though, there was a deal so that if you bought a certain number of tokens it became buy one get one free, and without the entry fee it worked out to be almost the same as with the nickel system. However, when you explain this to customers you find out that making people think only makes them angrier, and filled with an intense desire to shoot you up in a game like "House of the Dead".
My best friend was the manager when I worked there and we both hated the state the arcade was in-- abandoned, slow, and lacking the atmosphere that it used to have. We decided to do something about this, and set about forging a New Era in the Nickel Nickel arcade. At time when the place was nearly dead, me and my friend would have competitions in the Basketball free-throw shot game and invited curious customers to try and beat us and win tokens. This was great fun and we made friends who would come back frequently just for this purpose. One of my favorite memories of this is of a middle aged man named Ramon. This is the only guy who would give me and the manager a run for our money in Basketball; by this time we were experts, sinking 40-50 shots in a minute. Whenever he came in it was an event with the aura of an informal contest as people would gather around and watch the spectacle. Most of the time we were using the tokens we could just grab from the counter as we would play for quite some time. Ramon would then buy us dinner at the Juan Pollo in the same shopping center in retribution. We didn’t really mind because he had is 3 kids in there spending loads of cash on the ticket games (by the way, they’re NOT worth it if you were wondering). Another favorite memory of mine was the local employees at the then Sav-ons, now CVS. When it was particularly dead and on our breaks, we would buy some of those cheap Arizona iced teas (most likely given to us at a "discount", I never looked at the receipts but I know drinks shouldn’t cost 30 cents) and shoot some pool on the new tables we just got in.
Despite the new friends and determination on the part of me and my friend, Summer 2006 was a horrible time business wise for Nickel Nickel. I remember getting sent home early because we had no customers in over an hour. In a succession of brilliantly planned business maneuvers, the owners decided to take out the legendary free-play games in the back (where’d you get that business degree, Chaffey?) because there was no longer a entry fee. They were pushed in the back storage room where they did nothing but rot and get played occasionally at closing time late nights when we were sick of mopping.
By September, we got the inevitable news that the place was shutting down, which didn’t really surprise any of us but was still hard news to bear. The logical thing to do was to have a few late night parties in the children’s party room which led to some of the older employees frantically trying to rid the place of the stench of hookah smoke in time for opening, a hilarious sight. The hardest part of it all was telling the familiar faces that the place was closing its doors forever. When it finally did, it was the end of an era. A dynasty that was founded upon a radical idea that a kid could go into an arcade and play outdated games with change his Mom gave him for cleaning his room or found triumphantly under a couch cushion; a refuge from the blistering Summer heat proudly displayed in triple digits LCD numbers on the bank sign just north of the store like some sort of twisted contest Satan would hold in his den, a place where an underground economy based on basketball free throws and fetid chicken from Juan Pollo flourished...and in its place an empty building where 90 db+ sounds stopped assaulting the walls for good.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Farmer, by Sam
Ill tell you about Farmer. He was tall but grounded by an enormous gut and a swath of curly, matted fire that wrapped around the back of his head when he rode his motorcycle. I think he really wanted company so he told us he had moonshine. We followed him inside his mashed together trailer and into the junkroom/kitchen where he pulled a water jug not filled with water from the fridge and poured us a decadant styrofoam cupfull. First inhalation fumed up inside my nostrils drugging me before i could even taste it while he sat anxiously bobbing his nervous knees up and down asking how i liked it. I slid a purifying sip into my mouth and passed it along. All of a sudden he got up and pointed at the ceiling and wall across from me "i'll show ya the titties." The spots suddenly glowed on the walls: little fist sized reddish pairs of breast imprints like dots on wallpaper with curly, typical feminine signatures underneath. He pointed almost everyone of them out to us individually as if each one was special. I almost felt sorry for him for a moment then I realized that i was being stupid. Maybe one day I'll be as unashamed as Farmer.
Apartment Punks, by Dominick
After an exhausting and unforgettable show featuring Upsilon Acrux, Sleeping People, Yip Yip, and The Locust one night at the now-closed venue of the Showcase Theatre in Corona, a nagging, punkish girl with a slightly more disheveled-than-most look came up to me and asked "Do you think you can give me and my friends a ride home tonight" I glanced at my cell phone, it read 12:00 am in stagnant, green LED numerals.
I had the inkling that her kin were the grungy folks sitting outside the venue before the show started, yelping "hey you got any money so we can get in the show? We like the same bands you like!"
I really did not take a liking to their whole shitch, but I respect them as the bare-bones idealists that they were. Obviously, they were dirt poor, and I wasn't the least bit surprised to hear them harp about hitching on trains, "spenging" ( a concept that will be touched on later), and other facets of a life that prioritizes little more than catching the latest 80's anarcho band (past their prime) playing at the local venue thats about to get closed due to fire safety issues; a life that places no higher value than adhering to a strict vegan diet (though I'm sure they sneak the occasional rat or two) and wearing all black with an oversized Conflict patches on your spectacularly tattered jacket. Overgrown kids hiding from their mommies and daddies and as a result obtaining bad dental hygenie. You have to give them credit though--not many people are willing to display their gods in such a fashion, or even in their own fashion (sense). My Lord my writing style is annoying tonight.
Now me being a pansy subruban youth in comparison, and at this point in my life awkward also, decided to consult my friend in the matter. I had to leave the starry eyed girl in the parking lot in suspense. We both decided it was a bad idea to extend past my curfew too much since I was on bad terms with my dad. We also both decided that we should check out any signs that these people might mean trouble, and what we could discern about them from their appearance. Other factors that we had to deal with was whether they would all fit in my car, and other technicalities. Both of us being ruthless over-analyzers finally gave up our game and decided to just take them. They seemed friendly enough.
I make my way back over to where they are stationed at. THe whole lot of them is now gathered. "Lets go" I said. They were surprised in their pre-destined manner. Manor. One of them had a large black bag which contained all of his possesions--think of it like a "punk" version of a bindle. Strapless, pocketless, just a black piece of cloth rolled up into a cylinder like a can of string beans. Black beans would more accurate actually. Like a can of black beans.
I had the inkling that her kin were the grungy folks sitting outside the venue before the show started, yelping "hey you got any money so we can get in the show? We like the same bands you like!"
I really did not take a liking to their whole shitch, but I respect them as the bare-bones idealists that they were. Obviously, they were dirt poor, and I wasn't the least bit surprised to hear them harp about hitching on trains, "spenging" ( a concept that will be touched on later), and other facets of a life that prioritizes little more than catching the latest 80's anarcho band (past their prime) playing at the local venue thats about to get closed due to fire safety issues; a life that places no higher value than adhering to a strict vegan diet (though I'm sure they sneak the occasional rat or two) and wearing all black with an oversized Conflict patches on your spectacularly tattered jacket. Overgrown kids hiding from their mommies and daddies and as a result obtaining bad dental hygenie. You have to give them credit though--not many people are willing to display their gods in such a fashion, or even in their own fashion (sense). My Lord my writing style is annoying tonight.
Now me being a pansy subruban youth in comparison, and at this point in my life awkward also, decided to consult my friend in the matter. I had to leave the starry eyed girl in the parking lot in suspense. We both decided it was a bad idea to extend past my curfew too much since I was on bad terms with my dad. We also both decided that we should check out any signs that these people might mean trouble, and what we could discern about them from their appearance. Other factors that we had to deal with was whether they would all fit in my car, and other technicalities. Both of us being ruthless over-analyzers finally gave up our game and decided to just take them. They seemed friendly enough.
I make my way back over to where they are stationed at. THe whole lot of them is now gathered. "Lets go" I said. They were surprised in their pre-destined manner. Manor. One of them had a large black bag which contained all of his possesions--think of it like a "punk" version of a bindle. Strapless, pocketless, just a black piece of cloth rolled up into a cylinder like a can of string beans. Black beans would more accurate actually. Like a can of black beans.
People spheres, by Dominick
Sometimes when I get bored, I like to observe people's sphere's. Everyone has one. They are visible only to the trained eye. You see, people exist in a world of their own creation, or as Robert Anton Wilson would say "Reality Tunnels". One can see how another human looks at the world by observing certain mannerisms, eye movements, and other peculiarities of body kinetics. You can tell an angry man's sphere by noticing that he always looks down, avoids eye contact with other humans, is constantly bobbing his head around as if he is being attack by some invisible pests. The way you determine the visual sphere is by taking the range of motion and the sum total of all of these movements, and form a mental imagine in your head on 3-d graph paper. And tada, your people sphere.
Naturally if you are in your own sphere, as mostly anyone is, your perception of other people's spheres will be skewed. This is due to your own unconscious binding to your own spherical limitations. Think of it as us from Earth observing the orbits of the other planets in the Solar System. Early astronomers were perplexed by Mars and other planet's apparent retrograde motion across our sky. This is of course because we are moving also, but in a totally different orbit.
Now, if you were to suddenly "break free" of your own sphere, you would be free to observe the normal people around you's spheres. Breaking free is not an easy thing to do. The way in which I do it is by consciously widening my peripheral vision and immersing myself in the environment. In this way you are becoming somewhat omnipotent, but it can put some strain on your mental abilities. You get a sense of being "taller" than everyone else as you break free from your own sphere. Now at last you can observe people as they really are, either as menacing, shy, anxious, pre-occupied, etc. This of course can provide you with hours of enjoyment and entertainment.
So the next time you feel like laying down on the train tracks and calling it a day, think to yourself, I could be watching people's sphere's instead!
fin.
Naturally if you are in your own sphere, as mostly anyone is, your perception of other people's spheres will be skewed. This is due to your own unconscious binding to your own spherical limitations. Think of it as us from Earth observing the orbits of the other planets in the Solar System. Early astronomers were perplexed by Mars and other planet's apparent retrograde motion across our sky. This is of course because we are moving also, but in a totally different orbit.
Now, if you were to suddenly "break free" of your own sphere, you would be free to observe the normal people around you's spheres. Breaking free is not an easy thing to do. The way in which I do it is by consciously widening my peripheral vision and immersing myself in the environment. In this way you are becoming somewhat omnipotent, but it can put some strain on your mental abilities. You get a sense of being "taller" than everyone else as you break free from your own sphere. Now at last you can observe people as they really are, either as menacing, shy, anxious, pre-occupied, etc. This of course can provide you with hours of enjoyment and entertainment.
So the next time you feel like laying down on the train tracks and calling it a day, think to yourself, I could be watching people's sphere's instead!
fin.
Album review: The Durutti Column- LC, by Dominick
The Durutti Column's 1981 effort, LC features the finest snow covered iceicle-laden music ever created by an eskimo in search of a place to lay down in and die in vain. The organic, blue-grey lushness of mist this album produces cannot be replicated by any other force of nature other than this creature. When your stereo is forced to play back this album, crispness will cut the air and send you into a swirling vortex of majestic and freeing harp like repetitive guitar motiffs with a sharp, biting, ever-present 80's drum machine pulsing through the mix like a warm heart being held under the ice of Antarctica. Vin Reilly's voice is a distant spirit whispering into your ear from the trees above the tundra. "The Act Committed" thrusts you into air-conditioned hallway of endless doors from which you must choose at your leisure and discover the riches within.
This album will take you places. Places in your mind that only the Cocteau Twins and My Bloody Valentine in all of their splendor hinted at existing. If any of this sounds at all appealing I suggest find this album and
My word, look what just fell out of my pocket!
http://www.sendspace.com/file/ywymb8
A fun-filled, productive fiscal year, by Dominick
The in which we look at things in the Corporate Environment need to be fundamentally changed. I am working hard, and achieving those goals. Accounting is a virtue in which all others stem from. There are many mergers to be acquired. You are now entering Customer Country. Business is a gamble. Interconnectivity is attainable. Systems analysis solutions for broad basedcoupling. Swift dispersion from point of departure. Being optimistic it can be done. Investors are nature's equalizers. Capital income takes labor. Statistics can only teach us what we know. The customer is actually our-stomer. Charts are only half of the picture come evaluation period. Meetings are a cornerstone for investor unity. Diversification leads to wider margins. Cash-flow analysis. Assets aren't asinine. Acquisition acquisition acquisition. Systematic upkeep of the infrastructure. Accountability is to be desired. Level-headed decisions. Top-down thinking. Decisive maneuvers in the business field. Featured key note speakers. Idea-centered learning. Leadership flexibility. Organizational management. Team-building strategies. Enterprise potential. Marketing power. Network databases.
There is much cleaning to be done.
There is much cleaning to be done.
A way to neutralize yourself part 2. by Dominick
Read up on Carl Jung's concept of the unconscious. Start analyzing your own behavior using his methods to a point in which it becomes positively unproductive in your American Life.
You are now cleansed.
alternative method: Take Prozacs.
You are now cleansed.
alternative method: Take Prozacs.
A Way to Neutralize Yourself, by Dominick
Concentrate. Close your eyes. Wait, read this first.
Any thoughts or aspirations that you have right now, I challenge you to look at them from another perspective. Take one thing that is really bugging you or is going through your mind right now, but is something too personal or seemingly insignificant to share with anyone. Now imagine yourself telling someone close to you this, preferably someone who doesn't always agree with you. Now, imagine the other person's reaction to what you have revealed and what they may think of it. Take on that viewpoint as your own.
Your dreams have now been killed. Have a nice day.
Any thoughts or aspirations that you have right now, I challenge you to look at them from another perspective. Take one thing that is really bugging you or is going through your mind right now, but is something too personal or seemingly insignificant to share with anyone. Now imagine yourself telling someone close to you this, preferably someone who doesn't always agree with you. Now, imagine the other person's reaction to what you have revealed and what they may think of it. Take on that viewpoint as your own.
Your dreams have now been killed. Have a nice day.
The time when I ate so many coffee beans I began my asshole became a perculator, by Dominick
Last summer, I had the great fortune to invent the delightful culinary masterpiece known as “coffee beans and chocolate chips. The recipe for this is as follows: Obtain really dark roasted coffee beans, pour into a bowl until the clicking on the porcelain bowl starts to sound like some tap dancing little girl overseen by her presumptuous father on the streets of Hollywood, stop, then add enough chocolate chips until your Caucasian bowl is overrun by the raw power (cue Iggy Pop) of a thousand black slaves mutinying against their oppressors.
There.
Proceed to eat the contents of the bowl until the dead and mangled, white corpses are all you can see.
And count to one, two, three hours.
Run to toilet. Put coffee pot in toilet until it is bobbing forlornly like a buoy in San Pedro Harbor. Let the great experiment begin!
You now have we we in the colonies call: coffee de vida. Coffee of life, from life. The only coffee machine not powered by a cold electrical outlet, but the beating heart of a human, the only coffee to have be ground by the decaying incisors of a lonely homo sapien-- the only coffee as black as the souls that conceived it, the only coffee Richard Nix-
I hope you brought your mugs!
There.
Proceed to eat the contents of the bowl until the dead and mangled, white corpses are all you can see.
And count to one, two, three hours.
Run to toilet. Put coffee pot in toilet until it is bobbing forlornly like a buoy in San Pedro Harbor. Let the great experiment begin!
You now have we we in the colonies call: coffee de vida. Coffee of life, from life. The only coffee machine not powered by a cold electrical outlet, but the beating heart of a human, the only coffee to have be ground by the decaying incisors of a lonely homo sapien-- the only coffee as black as the souls that conceived it, the only coffee Richard Nix-
I hope you brought your mugs!
How we die, and how we don't even realize it, by Dominick
Man can only endure so much torture until he finally gives in and identifies with the opinion of his oppressors. This is due to the psyche's need to protect itself from total emotional overload. We will justify any belief system through different ways that are beneficial to our own mental health, but have no basis in reality. We are so selfish by nature that if we were to act out on all of our desires, we couldn't function. Our desires and wants are killed by ourselves because society cannot sustain or fulfill them all. Over the course of a lifetime our ideals that we once held so dear begin to wane and we don't even realize it. We eventually will reach a point where we are so jaded that any moral dilemma or situation that used to be a complex and emotionally charged process in our youth, will be reduced down to a rationalization such as “that is human nature” or “some people are like that”. Art loses its meaning. Culture loses its meaning. The death of ourselves is by our own hands.
This is to protect ourselves from the constant emotional stress that we are putting on ourselves to live up to how we think the world should be. Eventually one caves to the pressures of the world and we look back 10, 20 years to the past to realize that we no longer care about anything but procreating , looking after our family and blindly following natures way so a new generation might do the same thing, and hopefully only make 1/1000th less mistakes than the last so that we may go on living a somewhat bearable life, find probably one mate, fucking them and then dying.
/sips kool-aid
This is to protect ourselves from the constant emotional stress that we are putting on ourselves to live up to how we think the world should be. Eventually one caves to the pressures of the world and we look back 10, 20 years to the past to realize that we no longer care about anything but procreating , looking after our family and blindly following natures way so a new generation might do the same thing, and hopefully only make 1/1000th less mistakes than the last so that we may go on living a somewhat bearable life, find probably one mate, fucking them and then dying.
/sips kool-aid
not to overshadow you, by sammy shmammy
I randomly read something that got me into thinking about how much people crave and cling to the familiar. They are afraid of the unknown, they need familiarity to quell themselves, keep themselves warm and numb and “safe.” but what does it even mean to be safe? Safety from being uncomfortable? safety from questioning yourself and your motives? Safety from having the foundations upon which you built your life blown away like smoke? For some, I guess that would be hell. But why do we live our lives like that? Having spent time in a horribly apologetic christian college for a year, I was “trained” to develop excuses for every rumble in the pit of my stomach and every disconnect in the back of my mind. I was never at a state of happy medium (accepting the knowledge I had along with accepting that it might not be true, as well as accepting that there an infinite amount of information left unknown). I was constantly worried. I was a complete slave to facts. Any little fact that didn’t fit with my theories just so made the mountains I built up come tumbling down all over me and this happened over and over and over again. Why? Because there was only one “right way.” the way the contrived, secretly mad and horrendously unsatisfied so called officials would remind us. What does this have to do with anything? Because from a young age, we are trained to try and make everything fit into boxes, and not just fit, but cram and push and force even when those boxes sides are blown out. There are “ways”, right ways, and it is our prescribed job to master them. So we master the ways, give up our lives and live comfortably.
Dominick:
Rather than an outlet of well thought out, spellchecked, and thusly proof-read pieces of writing, it seems as that I will write about either my day, or some thoughts that I am musing about. Initially I detested this type of writing, but the lure of putting my thoughts down in tangible form, even if that means the internet, is appealing. I will make sure of it to post at least one pre conceived brick of writing a week, not to over shadow my patron SammyGibble. Lumbering "poems" not included.
Nature almost got me, by Dominick
Nature has a game.
It gets mostly everybody.
It pulls you towards other people. No other purpose to create more of us. Distorts reality, makes it seem like the thing to do. Animal magnetism.
Nature has a game.
Miller Genuine has a stake in it too. Ben Franklin said that wine was God's proof that he wants us to be happy;makes the spirit willing but the flesh weak. Ben wasn't so honest.
Maybe that was Abe Lincoln.
In any case, Nature has a game.
Those crying babies suddenly look cute. If they didn't they wouldn't last a second. That orifice looks so appealing. Its all a game.
You'll find yourself next to some whale at age 35. Getting up and saluting the flag. You can't escape Darwin.
But that hole looked so nice. Like a ups delivery man; so inviting. Can I come inside?
Writing has no purpose in nature's game. Keep writing.
It gets mostly everybody.
It pulls you towards other people. No other purpose to create more of us. Distorts reality, makes it seem like the thing to do. Animal magnetism.
Nature has a game.
Miller Genuine has a stake in it too. Ben Franklin said that wine was God's proof that he wants us to be happy;makes the spirit willing but the flesh weak. Ben wasn't so honest.
Maybe that was Abe Lincoln.
In any case, Nature has a game.
Those crying babies suddenly look cute. If they didn't they wouldn't last a second. That orifice looks so appealing. Its all a game.
You'll find yourself next to some whale at age 35. Getting up and saluting the flag. You can't escape Darwin.
But that hole looked so nice. Like a ups delivery man; so inviting. Can I come inside?
Writing has no purpose in nature's game. Keep writing.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
by sung geeb
Who says we are supposed to be happy all of the time. People who get it from other people who get it from other people who get it from other people. Sometimes I want to be tired, sometimes I want to be really tired, sometimes I want to be hungry and weak and exhausted. im not a mannequin. Everyone is sad because they are not happy because their little plans arent working out. Throw away the plans. why do you want to follow something against your will. Even if you made them yourself, you wont execute them in a vacuum. your plans wont fit what your inevitably going to be applying them to. Its impossible. But you think it isnt because you don’t think and then you get pissed. And then you keep on making plans. Have fun!
I don't have a natural state, by Dominick
Most people are born with a state in which
mimics their position in the womb
their natural state.
I was restless in the womb. I cannot find the mold into which my body fits into.
I am amorphous, freely contorting myself into a variety positions until one certain figure seems to be the one for me.
The one that provides the most comfort.
I cannot find it.
I am free.
mimics their position in the womb
their natural state.
I was restless in the womb. I cannot find the mold into which my body fits into.
I am amorphous, freely contorting myself into a variety positions until one certain figure seems to be the one for me.
The one that provides the most comfort.
I cannot find it.
I am free.
I ignored you, by Dominick
You just try to touch my inkling of a soul, I ignored you.
As you lay in pain in your bed, I ignored you.
Your brother comes and visits me your brother comes and visits me. One day you're going to go in there and she not going to be there any more. Why don't you just jump in the pool? The man will catch you. You ignored me she said you ignored me.
Like the floral pattern on your bed, the smell of that mysterious white stuff on my new toothbrush. Same colors. You talked to me so much before you talked to me so much before. You ignore me.
I said here I am in the new bed, I wont be here for long. I just want to go out with my cousin. No I said no I said you should stay here and talk. Ok. And Disneyland and mango mobiles and UCLA medical center and Uncle Steve's house.
I think I just want to play games. My whole life. When I see the end in sight I close the board up thusly so no one know who would have won.
You ignored me.
"WHHHHAATTT!!????", he said in the night.
I have no purpose other than to inadvertently induce suffering.
As you lay in pain in your bed, I ignored you.
Your brother comes and visits me your brother comes and visits me. One day you're going to go in there and she not going to be there any more. Why don't you just jump in the pool? The man will catch you. You ignored me she said you ignored me.
Like the floral pattern on your bed, the smell of that mysterious white stuff on my new toothbrush. Same colors. You talked to me so much before you talked to me so much before. You ignore me.
I said here I am in the new bed, I wont be here for long. I just want to go out with my cousin. No I said no I said you should stay here and talk. Ok. And Disneyland and mango mobiles and UCLA medical center and Uncle Steve's house.
I think I just want to play games. My whole life. When I see the end in sight I close the board up thusly so no one know who would have won.
You ignored me.
"WHHHHAATTT!!????", he said in the night.
I have no purpose other than to inadvertently induce suffering.
I went out for a walk last night, by Dominick
"Is everything okay Dominick? I think I'm justified in asking this. I mean, you're going out for a walk at 11 pm at night. I know you've been off your meds for a week now...is everything okay?" "Yes. I just want to go for a walk". "Okay, you can take my walking stick". "Ok"
Pace towards my car, turn key, turn key again, retrieve stolen Chesterfields and matches, light the cigarette of satisfaction. Now. Consciousness is entirely subjective. When you start to analyze it thoroughly enough it starts to become extremely murky. When you analyze your own thoughts to the point where you know your unconscious motivation for everything (or you think you do) everything just goes to shit. Depersonalization is no longer an option. Even though I have found a way to repress my normal fears and insecurities to a point where my forehead becomes numb and I am a functional zombie, I am reminded of one of the 14 precepts of engaged Buddhism. It states that if something is giving you the illusion of pleasure, ask yourself if you can keep it up for 14 days or so. I decided I couldn't, since my nerve endings in my amygdala were probably dying. I think I stumbled upon a secret only sufferers of sexual abuse know: if you ignore and concentrate on the fact that "this isn't happening" your emotions will vanish for about a half a day or so. Frightening to say the least.
That way is not an option. I mused upon the possibility that perhaps that is what everyone does to function in normal society, and that that is merely the repression of our "shadow". If living is really that hard and zombie-ing, count me out. I've come to terms with the fact that I can think anything I want and I wont lose my identity or have an out of body experience again. I can safely say to myself that God and atheism are both great lies and we might be living in a world of our own creation. I light another cigarette.
Go to the bench. Start to meditate. "Now you will feel the muscles in your back start to relax" "Take deeper breaths". "The calming desert". Head bobs downward, basketballs bouncing to my right. It was nice.
I start to realize that whenever I grasp something it becomes elusive. I discover that I have the potential to be a chemist. I no longer care about it. I discover that journalism would be a good fit for me, I heavily imagine myself as a journalist to the point where it no longer seems interesting. I think I've tried out all of the forms of consciousness one can impart on oneself without the use of drugs. They are all contradictory. I am reminded of the homeless person I saw walking around work last night. He had headphones on, smoking a cigarette, and was on a bike.
Freedom.
Pace towards my car, turn key, turn key again, retrieve stolen Chesterfields and matches, light the cigarette of satisfaction. Now. Consciousness is entirely subjective. When you start to analyze it thoroughly enough it starts to become extremely murky. When you analyze your own thoughts to the point where you know your unconscious motivation for everything (or you think you do) everything just goes to shit. Depersonalization is no longer an option. Even though I have found a way to repress my normal fears and insecurities to a point where my forehead becomes numb and I am a functional zombie, I am reminded of one of the 14 precepts of engaged Buddhism. It states that if something is giving you the illusion of pleasure, ask yourself if you can keep it up for 14 days or so. I decided I couldn't, since my nerve endings in my amygdala were probably dying. I think I stumbled upon a secret only sufferers of sexual abuse know: if you ignore and concentrate on the fact that "this isn't happening" your emotions will vanish for about a half a day or so. Frightening to say the least.
That way is not an option. I mused upon the possibility that perhaps that is what everyone does to function in normal society, and that that is merely the repression of our "shadow". If living is really that hard and zombie-ing, count me out. I've come to terms with the fact that I can think anything I want and I wont lose my identity or have an out of body experience again. I can safely say to myself that God and atheism are both great lies and we might be living in a world of our own creation. I light another cigarette.
Go to the bench. Start to meditate. "Now you will feel the muscles in your back start to relax" "Take deeper breaths". "The calming desert". Head bobs downward, basketballs bouncing to my right. It was nice.
I start to realize that whenever I grasp something it becomes elusive. I discover that I have the potential to be a chemist. I no longer care about it. I discover that journalism would be a good fit for me, I heavily imagine myself as a journalist to the point where it no longer seems interesting. I think I've tried out all of the forms of consciousness one can impart on oneself without the use of drugs. They are all contradictory. I am reminded of the homeless person I saw walking around work last night. He had headphones on, smoking a cigarette, and was on a bike.
Freedom.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
falling down in Echo Park, by Dominick
Falling down in Echo Park. Forgotten meditation, crumpled belief system in the glovebox of your piss-car. There were things in there. American Psycho has a stake in it. Browsing through the record store he found her in between the L's and the M's. She was there all along, but he never looked for her. She looked and he turned away. He took her home for 9.99. It was too late.
Nothing more than a childish emotion of detachment. And Jung said that we just want to marry our mothers and Jung said that we just form our conceptions of things based on an unconscious projection of our families on the world. But what if the house was built on earthquake rollers? The families house was built on earthquake rollers, the theory will not suffice.
She was gone again like at Disneyland for the third time. Except this time she was on his desk for 9.99. Staring.
She had time for that picture.
Nothing more than a childish emotion of detachment. And Jung said that we just want to marry our mothers and Jung said that we just form our conceptions of things based on an unconscious projection of our families on the world. But what if the house was built on earthquake rollers? The families house was built on earthquake rollers, the theory will not suffice.
She was gone again like at Disneyland for the third time. Except this time she was on his desk for 9.99. Staring.
She had time for that picture.
he said, by Dominick
Its a lot like the Matrix he said as he tried to keep it anatomically correct. The brother looked down knowingly in a haze of past tv show recollections of which he forgot.
Its like retrieval failure, and Pinky and the Brain. He said, its a lot like The Matrix. The possibility of the thought loops wearing too thin, and the spaces on the keys too narrow for the hunger artist to swear.
He said its a lot like The Matrix. Like Carl Jung's innocence being lost. He said its a lot like the reason is only half of the picture and the feeling is only half of the picture. You cant half them both. The images just don't add up he said. Kant said, but Kant said. You're perpetuating your own ego the brother said. I wonder if this happens to more people in different cultures. Like the pet that was just the spirit of old friends lost and re channeled. Everything is just energy he said and everything is just energy. Channeled in different directions all looking in at our self from different perspectives. Like the old storybook boy walking down Harvard square. You cant be right he said you cant be right because everyone just tells you what they think not the truth. Alpha waves and Pavlow's dog. Stanley Milgram and Philip Zimbardo. Its a lot like The Matrix he said its a lot like The Matrix he said. And the possibility of this all being the third choice that you had. A past way of looking at things. Groups of species kept together by their past beliefs. He picked up the bottle. Do these work he asked do these work. I said you remember this while we in college do you remember. When mama was fighting when mama was fighting. I said do you remember we are in college. Retrieval failure. The cap guns that kept on flowing. He must be doing something right. Their ears rang. Mama is crying he said mama is crying.
and she said its like a cold wet dying in the hot dead Earth.
Its like retrieval failure, and Pinky and the Brain. He said, its a lot like The Matrix. The possibility of the thought loops wearing too thin, and the spaces on the keys too narrow for the hunger artist to swear.
He said its a lot like The Matrix. Like Carl Jung's innocence being lost. He said its a lot like the reason is only half of the picture and the feeling is only half of the picture. You cant half them both. The images just don't add up he said. Kant said, but Kant said. You're perpetuating your own ego the brother said. I wonder if this happens to more people in different cultures. Like the pet that was just the spirit of old friends lost and re channeled. Everything is just energy he said and everything is just energy. Channeled in different directions all looking in at our self from different perspectives. Like the old storybook boy walking down Harvard square. You cant be right he said you cant be right because everyone just tells you what they think not the truth. Alpha waves and Pavlow's dog. Stanley Milgram and Philip Zimbardo. Its a lot like The Matrix he said its a lot like The Matrix he said. And the possibility of this all being the third choice that you had. A past way of looking at things. Groups of species kept together by their past beliefs. He picked up the bottle. Do these work he asked do these work. I said you remember this while we in college do you remember. When mama was fighting when mama was fighting. I said do you remember we are in college. Retrieval failure. The cap guns that kept on flowing. He must be doing something right. Their ears rang. Mama is crying he said mama is crying.
and she said its like a cold wet dying in the hot dead Earth.
realizing your an idiot, by sammygibble
as soon as I have a space to write something I cant put my ideas into any real concentrated, focused entity. Maybe I just need to blather my ass off for a while. I was riding my bike yesterday which I enjoy a little more than most people and I realized my county isnt as big of a shithole as I thought it was. Maybe its just me. Im always silently preaching to myself how circumstances do not create happiness but perception and attitude and then I thought of how big of a hypocrite I was sitting locked away in my room bemoaning my shithole, instead of getting out there and wiping my smug lowered lids off of my face and looking. I road my bike out on a country road I never really explored outside of a car, the euphoria building up in my calves in my thighs while I pumped along. That odd bent abandoned coal miner’s hovel was kind of beautiful with the overgrown weeds beating up against it. That placid opaque mindless old man sitting peacefully, enjoying absolutely nothing, on his porch didn’t deserve to be shoved under my prissy, assholish foot. Hes wasnt wasting his time. So I slowed down and stopped thinking about how far I was going to go on this ride and focused on the burning in my legs and how the 6 o clock sun was nice and warm and how nice and content and motionless all these weeds and trees were doing the same thing every single day until they cant stay green anymore and give up and are eaten up right in the same spot they first assumed their shape, which maybe, when you think about it, wasn’t the same spot all along.
88 Boadrums overview, by Dominick
On 8-8-08, the small swatch of fetid land in LA know as the La Brea Tar Pits was about to get assaulted by the biggest vibrations since the Pterodactyls dropped their young ones in pits of tar for fun and profit. The stench of weed, smelly hippies, and tar filled the air with a faint hint of tamales from the obligatory Mexican food in the corner.
thats it, heres the video:
thats it, heres the video:
Friday, August 8, 2008
whine or wine --sammygibble
what do you do when you feel like a blank? i dont mean this in a depressive way. i mean it in that you half heartedly consider what you have been doing the past couple of weeks and realize you weren't doing anything that you really wanted to do even though you had perfect capability to do it. were you waiting for the "right time" to do it or were you still "figuring out" how to do it? or is has that just been your entire life, wondering, wandering and never really realizing anything for yourself. never stopping to stop thinking so that for once and maybe for always you can just eat your surroundings, let them soak into your tongue and kiss your throat as they go down and become a part of you, at least for that moment until the next treat, regardless of how sweet or sour or rancid it tastes shows up to be devoured full heartedly by you. eat it all, the dirty streets you complain about, the "bad" weather that makes you sad, the so called assholes you work or live with, the moments you unfortunately are regretting, its not as bad as you think it tastes.
Possible occupation: art dispenser, by Dominick
I want my job to be someone that sees clients on a first-come first-serve basis. The line stretching to my office will be populated with the strangest and most ordinary people this side of of the Missisip'. I will sit behind my desk wearing a top hat and a monocle, for this is the attire of the Art Dispenser.
People will come to me in a manner not unlike that of Lucy's on the American comic strip Peanuts. They will sit in a couch which degrades their posture.
They will tell me their woes.
I'll respond "theres art for that". I will then lob a corresponding piece of artwork from my library into their mouth area, in which they will have to catch it with their incisors. Teenage angst? Heres Black Flag's seminal album "My War" in your pearly whites! Feeling blank and despondent? Allow me to toss Albert Camus' The Stranger near the herpes simplex sore I see festering in your mouth!
When "they" come from me I will torch my library and relocate to another location via a system of underground tunnels "The Rats", a gang of juvenile delinquents with anatomy problems and subsequently live in gutters, showed me 5 years ago tonight on an ill fated midnight walk.
Dominick, Art Dispenser.
People will come to me in a manner not unlike that of Lucy's on the American comic strip Peanuts. They will sit in a couch which degrades their posture.
They will tell me their woes.
I'll respond "theres art for that". I will then lob a corresponding piece of artwork from my library into their mouth area, in which they will have to catch it with their incisors. Teenage angst? Heres Black Flag's seminal album "My War" in your pearly whites! Feeling blank and despondent? Allow me to toss Albert Camus' The Stranger near the herpes simplex sore I see festering in your mouth!
When "they" come from me I will torch my library and relocate to another location via a system of underground tunnels "The Rats", a gang of juvenile delinquents with anatomy problems and subsequently live in gutters, showed me 5 years ago tonight on an ill fated midnight walk.
Dominick, Art Dispenser.
dont be afraid, by sammyshmibble
What is the basis for fearing death? For the average death-fearing individual, it often originates in the pretentious assumption that death will be a negative experience. What is this presumption based upon? What reason is there to assume that the death state is so horrible that it should be feared more intensely than most anything else? In Aristotle’s Apology, Socrates makes clear that he does not fear death due to his reason that he has no knowledge of what the state entails and consequently cannot fairly assume that it is unpleasant. His reasoning is sound in that it brings to surface the flimsy nature of the rationale behind the conventional attitude towards death. Accordingly, once this poorly substantiated foundation is analyzed and deconstructed, it becomes relatively easy to understand why philosophically death might not be a state to be feared at all.
Fear of death may initially be fueled by its innately mysterious and unknown nature; for many it is common to fear that about which they have little knowledge. However, seemingly paradoxically, in reality it is that lack of knowledge about death which should remove most of the ungrounded apprehension surrounding it. Although the average person may, when questioned, admit that he really has little solid information about the nature of the death experience (or lack thereof), he may still be likely harboring a variety of assumptions.
As mentioned, from our viewpoints as living human beings, we know concretely virtually nothing about the characteristics of the death experience. Because we are unable to communicate with those who have died as well as unable to return from the death state, we have no way of retrieving knowledge of what the experience holds. Those who do “know” what the experience is like have no way of reporting that to us. Based on religious texts or other such foundations, some may come to believe that there will be an afterlife that, as far as they can conceive, will share at least some similarities to their current lives. Specifically, they may believe that they will still maintain their current personal identity, memories or relationships once they are in this afterlife. Others may believe in a different sort of continued form of life such as reincarnation. For these individuals, fear of death may be reduced due to confidence in a somewhat clear vision of their futures after they die. However, some may cling to such comforting afterlife theories simply because they are so afraid of death. Alternately, there are those who feel there is no good reason to believe in the traditional afterlife. They may perceive death as a complete annihilation of consciousness or they may admit that they do not know the characteristics of the death experience nor care to assume its nature.
Socrates argument that there is no compelling reason to fear death because of our lack of knowledge about the experience indirectly hints that the focus on death and the fear of it should be greatly reduced in the mind of mankind. Focusing on the afterlife can detract from attending to the present. Consequently, distracting oneself from the present via any degree of preoccupation with death can result in a devaluing of the vitality and worth of the immediate living experience. If one is afraid of death because it signals an ending, he may believe that his time is limited, running out, and that he is not utilizing it as effectively as he can. He may try to fight the inevitable death, allowing the fight to consume a disproportionate amount of his time instead of accepting the fact and fully embracing his present life. Life should not be viewed as a rapidly ticking time bomb with death as the destructive explosion. Although death is an end to current experience as far as we understand it, we know nothing further than that and cannot assume that it will be negative.
Also mentioned by Socrates was the provocative notion that complete annihilation of personal consciousness could possibly be beneficial. Initially, the thought of living indefinitely may appeal to those who feel pressured by an ever ticking imaginary clock. Because they perceive their prospective seventy to one hundred years of existence as much too limiting, they may excitedly, yet oftentimes naively, latch onto or fantasize about the idea of immortality. However, because we do not have experience with immortality nor even with special cases of unusually long life, we cannot really conceive what immortality would be like. How do we know that we will not eventually tire of life on earth or grow numb to its wonders and pleasures? With that in mind, Socrates’ prospect of annihilation of the personal consciousness as beneficial may provide a welcome cure to what could possibly a lagging, even eventually torturous experience. And although we cannot assume that immortality would be torturous or even negative, it is reasonable and responsible to consider its possible multiple facets.
The thought of complete annihilation of the consciousness may be incite fear in and of itself. Because, from our vantage point, we are accustomed to being in a state of consciousness (except for when we sleep) the thought of indefinitely leaving it seems cold and frightening. However, if annihilation of consciousness is the all that death contains, than really there is no reason to fear such an extinction. Specifically, because we will be unconscious in death, we will be entirely unaware of it; we will never really know it or at least not in the way we currently know things while in consciousness. To state the point even more simply, it may very well be said that it is unreasonable to fear something that we will never experience. Now, even though death has been referred to as “the death experience,” were annihilation of the consciousness to occur, death would essentially be the antithesis of experience. We will only ever know death from our living, conscious perspective and never while actually involved in it. Does one usually fear things that may happen to him in his life that he will never really experience such as unperceived microscopic organisms living on the surface of his body or unknown to him acts of murder or war occurring in far away places? Generally, such fears are not existent. Although it may seem ridiculous at first the notion that fear of death is irrational because death will never be truly experienced, when the actual definition and nature of “experience” is considered, it then makes a considerable amount of sense.
From the living human’s vantage point, there is no reason to fear death because the state (unless you consider hypothetical religious explanations) is completely removed from our current experience as we know it. Unlike with other states we perceive as horrible such as being tortured or sick, we can only conceive of death while we are not dead. Once dead we will no longer be able to even consider, let alone fear, death in any manner. Essentially, to fear death is to fear nothingness and this trails back to the initial argument that death is generally feared because it is unknown. All we can assume we know about death is nothing, or at least that it is nothing. Consequently, our fears may better be spent on thoughts of experiences or entities we actually do have the capacity to consciously endure.
Fear of death may initially be fueled by its innately mysterious and unknown nature; for many it is common to fear that about which they have little knowledge. However, seemingly paradoxically, in reality it is that lack of knowledge about death which should remove most of the ungrounded apprehension surrounding it. Although the average person may, when questioned, admit that he really has little solid information about the nature of the death experience (or lack thereof), he may still be likely harboring a variety of assumptions.
As mentioned, from our viewpoints as living human beings, we know concretely virtually nothing about the characteristics of the death experience. Because we are unable to communicate with those who have died as well as unable to return from the death state, we have no way of retrieving knowledge of what the experience holds. Those who do “know” what the experience is like have no way of reporting that to us. Based on religious texts or other such foundations, some may come to believe that there will be an afterlife that, as far as they can conceive, will share at least some similarities to their current lives. Specifically, they may believe that they will still maintain their current personal identity, memories or relationships once they are in this afterlife. Others may believe in a different sort of continued form of life such as reincarnation. For these individuals, fear of death may be reduced due to confidence in a somewhat clear vision of their futures after they die. However, some may cling to such comforting afterlife theories simply because they are so afraid of death. Alternately, there are those who feel there is no good reason to believe in the traditional afterlife. They may perceive death as a complete annihilation of consciousness or they may admit that they do not know the characteristics of the death experience nor care to assume its nature.
Socrates argument that there is no compelling reason to fear death because of our lack of knowledge about the experience indirectly hints that the focus on death and the fear of it should be greatly reduced in the mind of mankind. Focusing on the afterlife can detract from attending to the present. Consequently, distracting oneself from the present via any degree of preoccupation with death can result in a devaluing of the vitality and worth of the immediate living experience. If one is afraid of death because it signals an ending, he may believe that his time is limited, running out, and that he is not utilizing it as effectively as he can. He may try to fight the inevitable death, allowing the fight to consume a disproportionate amount of his time instead of accepting the fact and fully embracing his present life. Life should not be viewed as a rapidly ticking time bomb with death as the destructive explosion. Although death is an end to current experience as far as we understand it, we know nothing further than that and cannot assume that it will be negative.
Also mentioned by Socrates was the provocative notion that complete annihilation of personal consciousness could possibly be beneficial. Initially, the thought of living indefinitely may appeal to those who feel pressured by an ever ticking imaginary clock. Because they perceive their prospective seventy to one hundred years of existence as much too limiting, they may excitedly, yet oftentimes naively, latch onto or fantasize about the idea of immortality. However, because we do not have experience with immortality nor even with special cases of unusually long life, we cannot really conceive what immortality would be like. How do we know that we will not eventually tire of life on earth or grow numb to its wonders and pleasures? With that in mind, Socrates’ prospect of annihilation of the personal consciousness as beneficial may provide a welcome cure to what could possibly a lagging, even eventually torturous experience. And although we cannot assume that immortality would be torturous or even negative, it is reasonable and responsible to consider its possible multiple facets.
The thought of complete annihilation of the consciousness may be incite fear in and of itself. Because, from our vantage point, we are accustomed to being in a state of consciousness (except for when we sleep) the thought of indefinitely leaving it seems cold and frightening. However, if annihilation of consciousness is the all that death contains, than really there is no reason to fear such an extinction. Specifically, because we will be unconscious in death, we will be entirely unaware of it; we will never really know it or at least not in the way we currently know things while in consciousness. To state the point even more simply, it may very well be said that it is unreasonable to fear something that we will never experience. Now, even though death has been referred to as “the death experience,” were annihilation of the consciousness to occur, death would essentially be the antithesis of experience. We will only ever know death from our living, conscious perspective and never while actually involved in it. Does one usually fear things that may happen to him in his life that he will never really experience such as unperceived microscopic organisms living on the surface of his body or unknown to him acts of murder or war occurring in far away places? Generally, such fears are not existent. Although it may seem ridiculous at first the notion that fear of death is irrational because death will never be truly experienced, when the actual definition and nature of “experience” is considered, it then makes a considerable amount of sense.
From the living human’s vantage point, there is no reason to fear death because the state (unless you consider hypothetical religious explanations) is completely removed from our current experience as we know it. Unlike with other states we perceive as horrible such as being tortured or sick, we can only conceive of death while we are not dead. Once dead we will no longer be able to even consider, let alone fear, death in any manner. Essentially, to fear death is to fear nothingness and this trails back to the initial argument that death is generally feared because it is unknown. All we can assume we know about death is nothing, or at least that it is nothing. Consequently, our fears may better be spent on thoughts of experiences or entities we actually do have the capacity to consciously endure.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
its hot out yo
“The air is so goddamn thick I could bite it…” George moaned as a hot mouthful from inside him clashed wall-to-wall with the static summer steam that seemed to be reeking from every god forsaken surface he could see. There wasn’t a tree breathing in sight to maybe sop up some of the heat a little bit. Just the hard-as-hell coal of broken concrete and asphalt. It was noon or twelve o’ clock or however you might want to label that sarcastic smile of the sun just reaching its peak, getting ready to cook you out of house and home for the next three or four hours. George was cooking out today, really, barbecuing, to be technical and accurate. The red numbers glowing satanically on top of two black poles outside of the bank told him it was 106 degrees outside.
“How convenient,” he thought. “Thanks for your help bank.”
“How convenient,” he thought. “Thanks for your help bank.”
Stilton is notoriously pricey in and around the greater Kutztown area. Easily the most expensive cheese at Weis Markets, its more than slightly off putting to the cost-sensitive shopper. So when I discovered this veiny, pungent gem nestled in a display case alongside its mango and blueberry Stilton siblings( for a mere portion of the price found at the steep cliffs of the supermarket), I absolutely did not hesitate to swoop in with hawk-like precision and request approximately two dollars worth of the milky gold (just what I required for my experiment).
With the unmarked prize in hand I returned home, giddy with an oddly energizing anxiety. What was this moldy mass going to taste like? Was it going to be so rank as to rob my tongue and stomach of all capacity to experience pleasure or would this cheese be heartily satisfying, like a well aged Parmesan? Well, I simply had to find out by experience. So, approximately twenty or thirty minutes before I planned to be asleep, I broke off an adequate portion of the creamy drug and, somewhat hastily, popped it into my mouth.
Certainly not your fragile intestined Aunt Gloria's bedtime snack, the cheese saturated my mouth with its raw power. I admit, I somewhat enjoyed the sensation of being so overpowered by a dairy product. The pungency seemed to coat the entirety of my throat as it went down in a brazen departure. I threw aside my pretentious vocabulary and emitted a blunt "woah".
Probably entirely psychological, the effects seemed to blossom within me just moments after consumption. I felt a little expansive and slightly elated. The Stilton was inside of me. I went to bed.
What ensued was one of the most exhausting, tumultuous nights of "sleep" I had experienced in quite some time. I certainly slept the entire night but the series of dreams I endured left me feeling otherwise. One after another unusually vivid dreams seperated by mere heart beats replaced my usual extinguishing of conciousness. Reflectiong back on the now far removed night, I remember feeling electricity, heat, burning unrest and a persistent whirling sensation for most of the night. Stilton was playing games, and I don't mean Chutes and Ladders.
I awoke the next morning physically rested yet psychologiically exhilerated and exhausted. At first my mind skipped to thoughts of how I could market this potent beast but then I realized the ride offered by this demon could provide more of an "I survived Stilton" appeal rather than one geared toward regular consumption. Simply put, this English monster is not for the weakly constituted, wary consumer. Beware.
With the unmarked prize in hand I returned home, giddy with an oddly energizing anxiety. What was this moldy mass going to taste like? Was it going to be so rank as to rob my tongue and stomach of all capacity to experience pleasure or would this cheese be heartily satisfying, like a well aged Parmesan? Well, I simply had to find out by experience. So, approximately twenty or thirty minutes before I planned to be asleep, I broke off an adequate portion of the creamy drug and, somewhat hastily, popped it into my mouth.
Certainly not your fragile intestined Aunt Gloria's bedtime snack, the cheese saturated my mouth with its raw power. I admit, I somewhat enjoyed the sensation of being so overpowered by a dairy product. The pungency seemed to coat the entirety of my throat as it went down in a brazen departure. I threw aside my pretentious vocabulary and emitted a blunt "woah".
Probably entirely psychological, the effects seemed to blossom within me just moments after consumption. I felt a little expansive and slightly elated. The Stilton was inside of me. I went to bed.
What ensued was one of the most exhausting, tumultuous nights of "sleep" I had experienced in quite some time. I certainly slept the entire night but the series of dreams I endured left me feeling otherwise. One after another unusually vivid dreams seperated by mere heart beats replaced my usual extinguishing of conciousness. Reflectiong back on the now far removed night, I remember feeling electricity, heat, burning unrest and a persistent whirling sensation for most of the night. Stilton was playing games, and I don't mean Chutes and Ladders.
I awoke the next morning physically rested yet psychologiically exhilerated and exhausted. At first my mind skipped to thoughts of how I could market this potent beast but then I realized the ride offered by this demon could provide more of an "I survived Stilton" appeal rather than one geared toward regular consumption. Simply put, this English monster is not for the weakly constituted, wary consumer. Beware.
Portrait of Christopher Walkens as an old woman, by Dominick
Christopher Walkens is an interesting specimen found at select locations of IHOP nationwide. The specific one I have encountered, labeled, and captured has a particularly fiesty temperament and a forehead that insiprses universal fear in bib-area of all of her customers. Christopher Walkens is named such due to anyone's complete-lack-of-surprise when you mention to your IHOP-mate “hey, that waitress looks exactly like Christopher Walken!”
One particular encounter with the abomination herself shines a light on the nature of this foul, androgynous, wildebeast. My IHOP-mate, Corwin, and I were pulling a few tricks out of our proverbial, ever-expanding bag and one trick came out with such force that it ripped the bag right open, spilling out the other ideas that were intertwined with it, resulting in an over-stimulating mindfuck of potential ideas. Unfortunatley, we could only save one of them while the rest were trampled by the natural, harmless, and naturally harmless wholesome patrons which populate the IHOP. This idea though, was a pretty good idea.
We decided to turn over Corwin's orange juice glass and see if the castrated Tutankhamun would oblige our free refills. She did not. When we brought this breach of normal waitress-patron conduct to her attention we were smacked with a torrent of unreleased emotions springing from her past—possibly from how her anthropomorphic father and mother never connected their dorsal fins and in their contorted sign-language and sequence of clicks-and-beeps and said “I love you” to this fetid piece of flesh. Her response was “When you turn your glass upside down, that means you don't want anymore”. As she said this me and Corwin got our straws, filled them up thusly with liquids, and spit them in her mouth. She then returned to her cave and sat upon a pointy pointy rock and repented to her many Gods her sins.
Only 60% of this is true.
One particular encounter with the abomination herself shines a light on the nature of this foul, androgynous, wildebeast. My IHOP-mate, Corwin, and I were pulling a few tricks out of our proverbial, ever-expanding bag and one trick came out with such force that it ripped the bag right open, spilling out the other ideas that were intertwined with it, resulting in an over-stimulating mindfuck of potential ideas. Unfortunatley, we could only save one of them while the rest were trampled by the natural, harmless, and naturally harmless wholesome patrons which populate the IHOP. This idea though, was a pretty good idea.
We decided to turn over Corwin's orange juice glass and see if the castrated Tutankhamun would oblige our free refills. She did not. When we brought this breach of normal waitress-patron conduct to her attention we were smacked with a torrent of unreleased emotions springing from her past—possibly from how her anthropomorphic father and mother never connected their dorsal fins and in their contorted sign-language and sequence of clicks-and-beeps and said “I love you” to this fetid piece of flesh. Her response was “When you turn your glass upside down, that means you don't want anymore”. As she said this me and Corwin got our straws, filled them up thusly with liquids, and spit them in her mouth. She then returned to her cave and sat upon a pointy pointy rock and repented to her many Gods her sins.
Only 60% of this is true.
hello by sammygibble
This is an introduction.
so last night i was running outside. it was probably 11 o clock or something. i ususally go running late at night because no ones out and its dark out. well i started running and i hear/feel this thing shaking in my head or maybe it was the plastic tip of my shoelace smacking the ground. either/or it was setting off my vertigo so i stopped running and walked a little while. woooh.
it wasnt the best running experience. i was pretty low on energy all day so it lasted maybe 20 minutes and i went back to my apartment.
but it made me think of this summer when i went biking everyday on an empty stomach because there was nothing to eat at our tent. by the time i got to the campground in the state park i was stealing showers from i was exhausted and exhilerated. high. everything was so blindingly bright. out of breath and nearly out of my mind i would hike over to a spot near a nice little stream and stare, mesmorized, at the berries growing. i was euphoric. lots of oxygen.
i dont know what it was though. i dont know if it was because i was trying to suck the most i possibly could out of my situation those couple of weeks or what but those were some of the happiest, simplest moments of my summer. while eating a kind of bad sour but kind of good because i picked it wild apple from a tree i got a really strong desire to refine my feelings or basically what i felt i had learned into something i could share with others. i was also reading the chronology of william faulkners life in the index of an anthology out of boredom by the pond and that inspired me. being without house/computer/music/telephone for a while can actually be a very good thing.
maybe i will call it "free shower"
idk
sorry i dont care about proper grammar sometimes. i swear i do know how to use it when i feel like it. ok bye
so last night i was running outside. it was probably 11 o clock or something. i ususally go running late at night because no ones out and its dark out. well i started running and i hear/feel this thing shaking in my head or maybe it was the plastic tip of my shoelace smacking the ground. either/or it was setting off my vertigo so i stopped running and walked a little while. woooh.
it wasnt the best running experience. i was pretty low on energy all day so it lasted maybe 20 minutes and i went back to my apartment.
but it made me think of this summer when i went biking everyday on an empty stomach because there was nothing to eat at our tent. by the time i got to the campground in the state park i was stealing showers from i was exhausted and exhilerated. high. everything was so blindingly bright. out of breath and nearly out of my mind i would hike over to a spot near a nice little stream and stare, mesmorized, at the berries growing. i was euphoric. lots of oxygen.
i dont know what it was though. i dont know if it was because i was trying to suck the most i possibly could out of my situation those couple of weeks or what but those were some of the happiest, simplest moments of my summer. while eating a kind of bad sour but kind of good because i picked it wild apple from a tree i got a really strong desire to refine my feelings or basically what i felt i had learned into something i could share with others. i was also reading the chronology of william faulkners life in the index of an anthology out of boredom by the pond and that inspired me. being without house/computer/music/telephone for a while can actually be a very good thing.
maybe i will call it "free shower"
idk
sorry i dont care about proper grammar sometimes. i swear i do know how to use it when i feel like it. ok bye
My own almost-madness, by Dominick
We all have myths as to which we live by, whether we are conscious of them or not. As much as we would like to suppose the supremacy of our so called "Rational 21st Century Minds" we all construct reality for ourselves through fantasies. Every culture has created myths as which to aspire to and to live by. It is my opinion that by living in the 21st century and the information age, we as individuals are constructing our own differentiated myths for ourselves that are based on facets of popular culture, because religion simply doesn't suffice anymore (with the advent of the World Wars and all). We as individuals in this information-laden age will either construct our own myths or switch on the tv box and have pre-created myths for us shoved down our throat. Many people accept these as fact simply because they exist. In reality what this is doing is having a group of people constructing your reality for you whether you realize it or not.
But what happens when a person's myth is shattered before their eyes? Our psyche's have a natural defense mechanism for this as we gradually expand and assimilate new experiences to accomdate an influx of semmingly contradictory information. For example, say one myth you live by is that "Frank Zappa was a God-like individual". And what if, due to the information laden environment that we are all thrusted in led us to hear that Frank Zappa killed his parents through cyanide poisoning. Your myth would either have to be shattered wince this obviously is not indicative of "God-like" qualities or accomdated. Perhaps you would accomodate this by uncovering another bit of information that his parents were deserving of death. This is an obtuse example, but is merely an analogy to show how far our psyche's will go to protect the myths we live our life by will g. Another, more pointed example, could be something along the lines of a Christian assimilating the new found "lost gospels" or other contradictory information into his world view.
What if though, the information you uncovered was so contrary to your myth that assimilation proved to be impossible. Reality would seem to crumble before your eyes as you struggled in vain to make sense of your newfound revelations. Such is what happened to me.
First, a little background on me. I am a person who takes my own "myths" very seriously and always have. I was raised a Catholic, went to Catholic school, etc. I was staunchly and embarrisngly Catholic until around 7th grade. It was then that I was discovering inconsistensies left and right in the Catholic myth. The main overarching issue though is that religions in the 21st century are still taught as absolutle fact instead of what they actually are--myths crated by humans to serve an essential purpose and to guide our lifes. Any person with any developed intellect can point out all sorts of inconsistensies in teh Bible and shit that simply can not convince us with our "21st Century Rational Minds" to be true. The tragedy of our age is that many very intelligent people are disregarding everything Religion has to teach us because the underlying seriousness it demands to be taken by is so fucking absurd and all of the special treatment it demands are laughable, adn teh atrocities committed in their name are horrendous. They are myths, nothing more. Good myths no doubt, but myths nonetheless. The result of modern-man casting off Religion as a form of living leaves him to find semblance in the myths created by culture-engineering capitalism and The State's lies. If theres one thing history can teach us, its that humans are fuck ups and only look out for their own immediate interests and pleasures. If we are to follow the ideals of capitalism and the state, we are to be slaves to others interests while sacrificing our own individuality. By creating Gods and myths that represent a higher form of morals and way of living, we have something to aspire to and to live by that will actually contribute to the evolution of mankind rather than turn us into mindless slaves, despite our great brains.
I went off on a kind of meandering tangent, but that background had to be touched upon. As I explained earlier, I am one who takes his myths seriously. After I cast off the Catholic faith, I began to look for peace and semblance in other myths. The overlying one I decided on was the Existentialist-rationalist way of looking at things. The basic tenants behind these myths is that God is merely an hypothesis that has failed humanity, that we as humans have to deal with the absurdity of our own lives in a world without religion and morality. Our purpose is then to crated our own values to which to live by. I was steadfast in my devotion to this philosophy and set about creating my own values. The problem with this is that I am always busy computing possibilities and situations into which my values would fit. I soon was confronted with ripe contradictions in my mind and was very confused on how to live my life. This is because of the contradiction of the rationalist way of looking at things and at the same time creating your own values. Any values you create are by definition not rational because they are to suit your own liking to to serve your own ego. This, I concluded was a dead end philosophy. I did not conclude this by myself though without one important revelation.
Around April of this year, I started smoking pot again. This was due to a number of factors that are personal in nature. THe main factor is that I tried to use it to an end that would slow down my thinking and make me "more normal".Lame.
One day while high I had tremendous revelation that shattered my own myth right in front of me.
Given my existentialist viewpoint of the world, God could not exist. What I did in essence while high was unlock parts of my collective and personal unconscious that represented images and feelings of "God" and of "Hell" and eternity. To anyone who has not experienced the "feeling od God" this will be a difficult thing for you to understand. It feels as if there is a universal consciousness giving you peace in your own actions and thoughts., These are what people call "religious experiences" and are achieved by prayer or meditation in many cultures throughout the world. What I interpreted the feelings to be was God Himself revelating Himself to me and showing me the errors of my ways. The reconciliation of the direct knowledge of God and the knowled ge that God couldn't logically exist drove me temporarily insane. At times I would get so deep into thought that I would feel detached from my body and my surroundings.
What eventually made me realize what type of experience I had was through reading Carl Jung and Eastern Philosophy. The gist of it was that I had tapped into the feeling of universal peace and consciousness that people throughout the ages have called God. This, I have come to understand is nothing more than an evolutionary evolved response to help us cope with death. There are a few loose ends that I am trying to piece together and still bug me in the present, but I am confident that I will resolve them in the near future.
Until then have yourself a very Merry Christmas.
But what happens when a person's myth is shattered before their eyes? Our psyche's have a natural defense mechanism for this as we gradually expand and assimilate new experiences to accomdate an influx of semmingly contradictory information. For example, say one myth you live by is that "Frank Zappa was a God-like individual". And what if, due to the information laden environment that we are all thrusted in led us to hear that Frank Zappa killed his parents through cyanide poisoning. Your myth would either have to be shattered wince this obviously is not indicative of "God-like" qualities or accomdated. Perhaps you would accomodate this by uncovering another bit of information that his parents were deserving of death. This is an obtuse example, but is merely an analogy to show how far our psyche's will go to protect the myths we live our life by will g. Another, more pointed example, could be something along the lines of a Christian assimilating the new found "lost gospels" or other contradictory information into his world view.
What if though, the information you uncovered was so contrary to your myth that assimilation proved to be impossible. Reality would seem to crumble before your eyes as you struggled in vain to make sense of your newfound revelations. Such is what happened to me.
First, a little background on me. I am a person who takes my own "myths" very seriously and always have. I was raised a Catholic, went to Catholic school, etc. I was staunchly and embarrisngly Catholic until around 7th grade. It was then that I was discovering inconsistensies left and right in the Catholic myth. The main overarching issue though is that religions in the 21st century are still taught as absolutle fact instead of what they actually are--myths crated by humans to serve an essential purpose and to guide our lifes. Any person with any developed intellect can point out all sorts of inconsistensies in teh Bible and shit that simply can not convince us with our "21st Century Rational Minds" to be true. The tragedy of our age is that many very intelligent people are disregarding everything Religion has to teach us because the underlying seriousness it demands to be taken by is so fucking absurd and all of the special treatment it demands are laughable, adn teh atrocities committed in their name are horrendous. They are myths, nothing more. Good myths no doubt, but myths nonetheless. The result of modern-man casting off Religion as a form of living leaves him to find semblance in the myths created by culture-engineering capitalism and The State's lies. If theres one thing history can teach us, its that humans are fuck ups and only look out for their own immediate interests and pleasures. If we are to follow the ideals of capitalism and the state, we are to be slaves to others interests while sacrificing our own individuality. By creating Gods and myths that represent a higher form of morals and way of living, we have something to aspire to and to live by that will actually contribute to the evolution of mankind rather than turn us into mindless slaves, despite our great brains.
I went off on a kind of meandering tangent, but that background had to be touched upon. As I explained earlier, I am one who takes his myths seriously. After I cast off the Catholic faith, I began to look for peace and semblance in other myths. The overlying one I decided on was the Existentialist-rationalist way of looking at things. The basic tenants behind these myths is that God is merely an hypothesis that has failed humanity, that we as humans have to deal with the absurdity of our own lives in a world without religion and morality. Our purpose is then to crated our own values to which to live by. I was steadfast in my devotion to this philosophy and set about creating my own values. The problem with this is that I am always busy computing possibilities and situations into which my values would fit. I soon was confronted with ripe contradictions in my mind and was very confused on how to live my life. This is because of the contradiction of the rationalist way of looking at things and at the same time creating your own values. Any values you create are by definition not rational because they are to suit your own liking to to serve your own ego. This, I concluded was a dead end philosophy. I did not conclude this by myself though without one important revelation.
Around April of this year, I started smoking pot again. This was due to a number of factors that are personal in nature. THe main factor is that I tried to use it to an end that would slow down my thinking and make me "more normal".Lame.
One day while high I had tremendous revelation that shattered my own myth right in front of me.
Given my existentialist viewpoint of the world, God could not exist. What I did in essence while high was unlock parts of my collective and personal unconscious that represented images and feelings of "God" and of "Hell" and eternity. To anyone who has not experienced the "feeling od God" this will be a difficult thing for you to understand. It feels as if there is a universal consciousness giving you peace in your own actions and thoughts., These are what people call "religious experiences" and are achieved by prayer or meditation in many cultures throughout the world. What I interpreted the feelings to be was God Himself revelating Himself to me and showing me the errors of my ways. The reconciliation of the direct knowledge of God and the knowled ge that God couldn't logically exist drove me temporarily insane. At times I would get so deep into thought that I would feel detached from my body and my surroundings.
What eventually made me realize what type of experience I had was through reading Carl Jung and Eastern Philosophy. The gist of it was that I had tapped into the feeling of universal peace and consciousness that people throughout the ages have called God. This, I have come to understand is nothing more than an evolutionary evolved response to help us cope with death. There are a few loose ends that I am trying to piece together and still bug me in the present, but I am confident that I will resolve them in the near future.
Until then have yourself a very Merry Christmas.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Outline for a depressing book, by Dominick
Semblance
How to come to terms with the absurdity of rational thought and the relative absurdity of the unconcious in the modern world.
1.God hypothesis as a social factor (Jesus). God as love. God as nerons. God as feelings. God as a methology to keep life going on earth. God as a an ultimately human create object. One of our blunders? The problems of existentialism and Nietzsche. God as morals. Theology as base don logic and feelings. Alchemy and the unconscious
2.All religion as myth. Religion as human created ideals to keep differentiation and the hide us from our true selves. The Ultimate Knowledge of Self as the connection between our dark shadow and how we can overcome it. Question to whether this is possible or not. Logic vs. feelings.
3.Existentialism as either a dead end philosophy or as a freeing one. Personal freedom vs. collective safety and freedom. The question of communism and man's rule. The State and Capitalism as subsituted Gods. Human created Gods as flaws.
Modern religions as outdated. Possibilities of new religions the expand consciousness and evolution.
The problem of dissociation and conflicting information. The tendency for reason to lead into contradictory results. The tendency for a weak ego to try to assimilate different personalities, and the danger of this. What we can learn from this. Self love as a pre determinism for love in general. The tendency for lack of direct experience of emotions to lead people to believe that they dont exist at all. “Love only exists in books”.
Finally, the brutal acceptance that reason alone will not suffice. Coming to terms with the unconscious and our true nature without resulting to insanity.
How to come to terms with the absurdity of rational thought and the relative absurdity of the unconcious in the modern world.
1.God hypothesis as a social factor (Jesus). God as love. God as nerons. God as feelings. God as a methology to keep life going on earth. God as a an ultimately human create object. One of our blunders? The problems of existentialism and Nietzsche. God as morals. Theology as base don logic and feelings. Alchemy and the unconscious
2.All religion as myth. Religion as human created ideals to keep differentiation and the hide us from our true selves. The Ultimate Knowledge of Self as the connection between our dark shadow and how we can overcome it. Question to whether this is possible or not. Logic vs. feelings.
3.Existentialism as either a dead end philosophy or as a freeing one. Personal freedom vs. collective safety and freedom. The question of communism and man's rule. The State and Capitalism as subsituted Gods. Human created Gods as flaws.
Modern religions as outdated. Possibilities of new religions the expand consciousness and evolution.
The problem of dissociation and conflicting information. The tendency for reason to lead into contradictory results. The tendency for a weak ego to try to assimilate different personalities, and the danger of this. What we can learn from this. Self love as a pre determinism for love in general. The tendency for lack of direct experience of emotions to lead people to believe that they dont exist at all. “Love only exists in books”.
Finally, the brutal acceptance that reason alone will not suffice. Coming to terms with the unconscious and our true nature without resulting to insanity.
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