we're @ll ready posthuman / culture of complaint

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 .. if you don't remember how you got here ..  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. how do you know you aren't dreaming ..?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. right now ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. the head of a gang is rarely the best of them; 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

more often, they tend to be the biggest a-hole ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hammer insights the state.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The cheese is always over there.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Beyond the possibility where you can afford care
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A stumble in the rumble,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A spike in the heart of insight.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We don't take them tickets no more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Loud in the shadows.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Soft in my words.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tik Tok me a road to nowhere
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When all I wanted was a song
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Christ all over my face
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Devour my hope with a swamp of misdirection.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You point to answers without temples 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and I just can't buy into the price of your patched together truth
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tell me again where is the floor
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Show me again where is the chore
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In delivering a cow you never swore

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ages void of stages, stories basked in fallacious glories
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thrones of bones
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We are to bow to such facades?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dreams are sacred inescapable mixologies of storms we can bear and horrors long passed ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And when I look to escape away you lie and tell me there is a new day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peddle your illusions in fields of forgiveness because I give no quarter to cons so old.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I bask in my demons.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You didn't close the sail.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'll drift into oblivious absolution,
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And when you're salt I'll mark a grave for the story you held.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

- I think I'm starting to realize all human organizations operate & function as secret societies: you’re always on a need to know basis in a corporate job, too…. They’re all pyramid schemes to 🥾.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

- absolutely 🤔😅.. prob why I quickly lose patience with such orgs; once you know enough about them to gnow what it takes to reach the so-called upper echelons, the latter have an odd tendency to quickly lose their appeal .. 🤨😅

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

HUMANLEVEL EVENTS

 

 

 

 

 

 

The various seasons of our lives are a bit like a syndicated t.v. show, and in totality, our memory, at least, seems to be something like a movie. There in our mind there are places in space and time, events, that stand out in relief compared to the mass of days that have passed us by - a highlight reel, little clips of the tape that are then spliced back together into our immediate personalities ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. there are probably technical psychological terms relating to these ideas, but I don't know them, and we could come up with our own terms, anyways... threads in space and time, a film, and all the world's a stage, acting on a veiled stage, etc. - When I sit in repose and reflect on my past existence, my attention, I find, is repeatedly drawn back to certain key events:

 

 

 

 

 

 

A foundational structure, some kind of constellation, actually quite literally existing "out-there" in space and time. - We have all witnessed and took part in many, many events as the scenes have progressed. Walked in a park, or down a city block. Ate in a restaurant, drank some drinks at a bar. Jumped in a pool, a brook, or pond. Went into an office to work. Kind of a swirl of similar events in which we find ourselves. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The islands of relief in the event flux, some strange attractors of sorts that can throw you off course [of course]. They don't really last in repetition as those days go by, but somehow it's mainly they've got you to where you are.

".. if one is to engage with the primordial forces of darkness, one must expect a bit of .. social awkwardness .."

- from Penny Dreadful

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. ah, the follies of youth .. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. when I was younger I thought I was in love with death; in my earlier daze, I sought it out, in my own way .. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. but more recently I've realized that Death is, truly, merely the beginning ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. & from just beyond it, always; beckoning .. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. the spirits ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. like revisiting vaguely familiar landmarks in the wheel of time ..

 

 

 

 

.. for I had long ago cast my lot in with the magicians; 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

seemingly in a past life, perhaps ..

.. today we hear a lot of clamor about transhumanism, often in a fearful tone, as if the greatest danger we face as a human race is to lose sight of "ourselves", whatever we've already decided that is before so much as examining the issue deeper .. 

.. or we hear that we are somehow now posthuman, & only now, of all other times in history, other factors beyond merely what we do as a species ought to be factored into how we envision future development as a collective & how to plan & act based on that ..

.. but we've always been posthuman.. in times so old they're barely even remembered by fossil records let alone history, humanity was certainly thought about by itself as a group, but a group that was nonetheless inextricable from the wider natural world, & yes, the spirit world just as much ..

.. what is new, perhaps, are the worlds of so-called "artificial intelligence", genomic engineering, & other such cutting edge developments that problematize what is ultimately a historically determined & arguably temporary & provisional understanding of what it is to be human ..

.. maybe what it re@LLy is is that we don't even gnow yet what being human is (becoming) ..

.. we're already transhuman; our con temporary human civilization would surely be seen as alien to our agrarian ancestors who developed the cultures that are the fount & root of much of our modernity, & which arguably would not have been developed in the absence of the large-scale agricultural practices that facilitated large communities of humans .. just so, these worlds must seem emphatically other than 'human' to the ancient hunter-gatherer bands that were once gnown as "the people" ..

.. it could indeed be that the only way to determine what humanity is is to explore not just technological avenues, but also different & more mutually beneficial means of engaging with the natural world, & powerful ways to traffic with the spirit world as we will .. so long as suffering is minimized, & which should always be a con sideration, not just when this is con venient for the critics of these and parallel trajectories of exploration, but especially for those explorers of the very understanding of humanity themselves ..

 

 

.. & just maybe, our distant descendants will look to our own geological remnants & wonder, in amusement & more than a touch of pity, what it was that caused us to hesitate, to wait so long to embrace the very means to our abundant future even as our home, our planet was a hair's breath away from a terminal decline that would have sealed our, & their, fates ..

"Let me be the first to break it to ya, kid .. you can't save 'em all"

- from The Baker

entitled/untitled

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. if you aren't enjoying the game, you've already lost ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 .. tighten up; refine your game ..

.. the lines are always shifting ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. but you can @ll ways improve at engaging with the changes ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Listen, here’s the thing. If you can’t spot the sucker in your first half hour at the table, then you are the sucker.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

- from Rounders

"Educating the mind without educating the heart is no education at all"
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

- Aristotle

I get my knowledge from the psst, the guy on the street - closer to the ground, the sound of the earth, a bit in the past. I buy what he's selling: there are other worlds than my own; the one I grew up in, was acculturated to, am accustomed to. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But we always fell a bit outside that application of social science, we didn't quite listen, because what our teachers were saying didn't quite make sense. They didn't get to the root of the matter and explain principles, they never quite answered the "why?" for... almost everything, and they didn't give us the tools for us to even ask our questions directly to Nature.- 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maybe some did, through special insight, an ability to get through all the fluff and noise, let go of the particulars of, to large degree, the isolated facts and fictions we were forced to study and read. In geometry we questioned why a triangle sums to half a circle, later to find out that even then it was more-or-less a blatant lie and is only true in a flat, empty, Euclidean space. History is taught without reference to who's written it - and our family stories, our own histories, are ignored at the preference of a Grand Vision of History. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The P(a)SST! - a loud whisper... I grab a bag - so I can let go of my baggage - I hop inside, a different set of stars and constellations appear; pin-pricks in the dark night sky that the bag became when I entered and sent out a breath... blowing up a balloon... A light shines on high: the hole where I entered the bag, receding, getting smaller as I fall[↧], but I can't feel it anymore... I seem to have stopped and the stars in the heavens start spinning[☸︎], barely perceptible. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A bright light appears in a distance, miniscule at first, then quickly enlarging and I can no longer look directly at it. I glance away... ah, that's nice, just another miniscule light out there now]..[then it starts changing colors and my entire field of vision is awash in tones. I forget about the pain from the light, I can't bear to remember, and do remember something about a bag filled with god-knows-what and a pisst on a s[tree]t which was nowhere to be found amongst the mass of shifting colors. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh great, I thought: now I've done it; I've gone in[to]o] deep. What was in that bag anyways? And now my vision splits in two; it seems a lace(d)work web now separates the colors, lies between them - moving, swaying, twisting, turning back on itself. Ah shit man... what do I do now, all alone on whatever trip I've ended up taking by jumping into whatever was in that bag? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I see flashes of light along the t[h]reads of the web, sometimes flashing off by tortuous paths to whatever final destination... if there even was one. Maybe some of the other celestial lights, holes in the bag like that, like me... but how do I move? The stars are still moving. I think: if I am like them in being some sort of source of some sort of light, color, and they move, there must be some way for me to do likewise. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The stars are rotating - I know this because some of them barely move at all and the others are like a spinning belt between this zenith and nadir. Maybe I can, have to, rotate too? But which way? And where are my hands and feet? Ahyeah, I remember, I did jump into this bag feet first, right? It would have been crazy to dive in. That light up there, at the zenith, that's the zenith, from when I started falling down - up there somewhere must be my head and down there in the blackness must be my feet, but I don't see a star... is there a star down there?.. maybe it's black? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don't know, but I still feel awful alone... I need to get moving. woof, at least now I've got some reference, oriented a bit. I'm falling right? I recall, so there is some motion I'm making already going on here, but I'm just falling into the blackness - nobody's there, so that doesn't do me much good. Those threads are moving too, flashing with washed out pulses. Can I pull on them like a rope? Damn, I still can't find my hands, they've got to be somewhere... I did open that damn bag after all... didn't I? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's becoming more difficult to remember, and the Unknown, being greater than the Known, by its weight, presses in through openings in the known.

".. I'm better even than I know how to be; & even I don't gnow what that means .."

- from the Stoned Sayings of Shades (fourth cumming)

 .. shades ( .. thus named because he was most comfortable behind the camera; behind the scenes as it were, & not in the bright lights .. ) often found himself wondering if the profound & far-ranging implications of the assertion that reality is structured like a con fidence trick or 'con' were felt & understood in the fullness of their scope ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 .. to say that reality is a 'simulation', or, as the gnostics do, that the world as we experience it daily was made by an incompetent imposter, is to begin to appreciate the deeper implications of such a position ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. & yet, this isn't merely to fetishize the con nor to idolize the con artist, although certainly one could credibly argue that in a holographic world in which god is a con artist, to do either of these is in itself ostensibly an act of devotion or worship ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. certainly it would be an easy enough matter to dismiss such a perverse perspective which sets aside the lofty ideals of honor & integrity in favor of a hermeneutics of suspicion & deceit in which nothing is ever really 'simply' black or white ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 .. & yet, there are deeper levels of reading our thesis compared to which the latter is merely a surface understanding .. for one thing, when is anything ever obviously black or white ..? ... is it not more likely, & indeed, deeper in tune & true to our lived experience, that everything comes in shades ..?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. & then there's another important con sideration, specifically, where are honor & integrity to be found today ..? .. for surely one must take the claims of those who boldly proclaim that they're possessed of such ideals with a healthy dose of salt .. indeed, this is especially true now, when some of these feel entitled to bid for our leadership & seek our allegiance .. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 .. arguably, it is our understanding of honor & integrity that are lacking in subtlety & the discrimination to distinguish between those who are victimized by the greedy & those who unjustifiably feel entitled to make the lives of others worse in order to make their own better .. perhaps both might resort to honing their con artistry, but this with diametrically opposed goals .. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. if this is an accurate analysis of things as they stand, then it's ultimately up to each individual to determine for themselves which of these is which .. & who among the entitled & the untitled is worthy of respect & support .. for such are the rules of engagement in what, if any are, is surely the very aeon of the con artist ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

.. that's the problem with success; 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 .. it doesn't lead anywhere except to opportunities for failure .. 

"Magic is organizing chaos. This requires two things. Balance and control. Without them, chaos will kill you"

- from The Witcher 

 

.. that feeling of falling backwards into sleep ..

ideo(to)logy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Ideology is the science of idiots"

 

 

 

 

 

- John Adams

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 .. apparently the putsch has been cancelled ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. or rather deferred, perhaps ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Smashing singularities.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tagging allies with unremarkable anarchies of calculated vibration.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All that defines Will bind.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is no other way,
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To force us to stay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mind presses to skin, there’s no such thing as never been.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bind as faith.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Temples on my back.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Toppling turrets with torrents rough as redemption.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No matter -
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

your call sign.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We all serve The Tower    
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All the same.    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 .. beware of getting lost..

.. inside another person's dream ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. shades (.. thus named because such a name would supposedly help him maintain a low profile ..) was amused by this (arguably unintentional) double entendre, "bad actors", which has been used to refer to malicious individuals, but could also mean that they're just not great at deceit .. 

.. amusingly, both senses are technically valid in the case of certain people who, when con fronted by reality, prefer to s(l)ink into their (day)dreams, forging ideo(to)logies which are detrimental, to a greater or lesser extent ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. these "bad actors", motivated by flawed ideologies, are seeking to maintain the status quo, a state moreover that increasingly many have realized is untenable .. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. in fact, it is precisely by avoiding change & progress that such "useful idiots" will themselves become their inadvertent catalysts ..

.. unfortunately, it's gonna get worse before it improves, as long as those who don't learn stick to their ideo(to)logical guns instead ..

 

.. it was only when I stopped running ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. that @LL I was chasing caught up with me ..

Taking a twist on spacetime transients and unusual events, is there anything we can do that causes unique events? Either to cycle back into our own experience or to land somewhere "out there" in the world-at-large? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We know that things occasionally happen that are out-of-place, or unique when taken in consideration with our more general routines and perceptions. But, is there some sort of mechanism we can use to elicit such responses from the universe? (besides ingesting questionable substances)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Submitted for acceptance / rejection: We have at least some control over our thoughts and actions, and we ourselves can intentionally do things that are out-of-the-ordinary or relatively unique among happenings. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We can make it a point to deviate from our routines or ways of doing things, to break the mold of physical and mental trackways in which we operate: the prisons without walls that have been built for us and that we ourselves have played a part in constructing. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do the cracks that we hammer out into our local spacetime - they at least enter other consciousnesses as "unique" - get paid back, so to speak?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maybe simply as small wonders creeping back into our experience. Not necessarily wonder at "big picture" items, for those are somewhat amorphous and more-or-less background considerations or scenes, but rather the little coincidences that usually go ignored. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For instance, you hurt your ankle and the next day while cleaning up find an old note written by someone else that says: "shotintheankle@gmail.com"- events that are in some sense related, separated in time & space, but that then become proximate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

These sorts of coincidences hint at additional hidden structure underlying our experience, but they usually do not lead into a more expansive psychic or material life. They pass, either unnoticed or noted, and leave little trace behind, since what much is there we can do with them other than that. We still do not have the magical mechanism that would enable us to make use of whatever structure causes coincidence in the first place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In order to even make an attempt at developing such a mechanism, we have to pay more attention to... our attention, and what we happen to notice and why. We do xyz and then awhile later some uvw happens. Something a bit different, or a little off - unusual. What did we happen to be thinking of at xyz and at uvw? Maybe, in a span of moments, we see answers on reflecting into the past to questions we are having "right now", possibly not at all related to the conversation at point.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Considering the universe in the sense of a magic mirror, somewhat akin to a dream, reflecting ourselves back to us, we need to always consider what part of us is it that we are looking at "out there". When we do a thing, we have to think of what (interior) part of ourself it is that we are changing, rearranging. And that requires careful appreciation of the effects of an object's perception on our interior life and the whole system of consequences in which we find ourselves as a part. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Even though for one event all causes and effects are infinite, maybe we can slip little hooks or nets of new forms into that flux and move things a little differently... like slapping a sigil on some oft-viewed bypass, or painting an alien on a yield sign. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anarchistic (unsanctioned) public works of art. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Perceptual incongruities that may not need to be consciously noticed to DO SOMETHING™ - you can't help but look, but do you see: placing a rock diverts a stream.

.. everything ends ..

.. & that's the best thing, & it's the worst thing.. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. that can be said ..

.. innocence (in no sense) ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"One who creates should be especially wary of success, though needs it"

 

 

 

 

- CG Jung, the Black Books

A stone, excelled to the ocean
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Convicted for resembling the spirit of its people.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The fires are lit, the homes are ash.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The songs grow sad, the tongue forgot.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The dance as gifted a call with a string.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tomorrow buried beneath concrete,
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Where the exhaust muffles the cries.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Souls bridled with treaties of rot.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Until an ocean of grief scores thundering waves.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Exhuming a stone, braving a face,
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Releasing a congregation,
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To raid the shores of commerce,
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Releasing a contagion,
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Armed with a fury of forgiveness.

 

One thing and then another: perceptibility is always mutual, we deal with the world by making mental machines. YET ONCE AGAIN FOLKS!!:- the magical deposition of the self in (a) space! We are some(w| )here(?), but where? And where the fuck are you? Right now, I'm sitting on a couch typing somewhere in those finest not quite United States. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's a tad dreary; low energy, you get the gist. And that couch, goddammit, had better know I'm there or I'll be falling through it to the floor... then on to outer space or something I guess. In any event, the couch and myself have some mutual understanding that I'm (some sort of|a) human and it's a couch - that bounces a bit if you jump on it...  But I may have gone a bit overboard with saying perceptibility is always mutual... maybe I should have said that a mutual relation always has within it the possibility for bidirectional apprehension of the other.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Call and response - you know there's an extended body already, right? - My outward going sensory complex meets the world, and the world reacts upon my sensibilities, and emotions etc. I push out, the world pushes back... maybe? Usually? fortunately, I'd hope. Maybe a little push here or there can bring me what I want; after all, everything(?) the will accomplishes is through moving some type of shit around. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unless I'm what I characterize as a plant, I have to move this body to get some digs and feed myself. Maybe I have to push through thorns to grab some berries, or chip a rock into the tip of a spear. Or maybe walk down to the supermarket and exchange some human energy tokens for an orange or something. We push, pull, poke, or prod some thing and we shift the trajectory for that bundle of stuff. NAY! We shift the entire universe for that thing in all its relations extends into both the infinity of (just our?) space and (our?) time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And, don't get me wrong, moving shit around isn't just confined to putting a potato chip in your mouth. In the world of mind we can push concepts around, combining them into trains of thought, which probably have to loop off into infinite recess if one ever gets going. I can grab a mental structure, not thinking in terms of thought forms ATM ($$$), and search for connections to some other idea, tangibly expressed or otherwise. I direct my mind - really I don't separate mind and bodily perceptions, but here we'll separate the two since they can be more-or-less bisected from the unitary perception - (or it is directed for me) to something: a word. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This seed or condensation of the whole universal expanse into a succinct series of phonemes, though it may ossify and separate from the general mass, still retains all its links in the conceptual space. These trails and dangling threads can be followed, like a monkey swinging on his vine through a jungle of thoughts somewhere. On the page our letters and their combinatorics are records of various histories: Roman Letters.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Books of Law and commercial ledgers - marks scrawled on magic paper that dictate realms of action: We live inside these organisms that we've created for ourselves, if not also our physical bodies, then those extended systems of law and economy. Maybe machines? They are only natural as having arisen from people themselves, and it should be remembered that those people were NOT you. And in so far as we are constrained by the operating procedures of the social organism - we are cells, or the energy that feeds these things. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You know, moving around and doing shit........... Not even that alone though, the actual environments in which we live are built out of people's energy and labor - usually ones we do not and will never know. Who built your house, huh? What about that pan where you fried some eggs and how in freaking hell did that olive oil get here? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unless it has nothing to do with people, and even then unless a wild dog bites you or no-one planted that tree, there were a whole mess of people variously involved in literally taking stuff from one place to some other place and fabricating whatever, maybe only a fractional piece of some final product, that eventually you plop over some cash for it and take to your home - or drink / smoke it or whatever. Like a giant mechanical brain, where the people are cells and the streets are veins.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

STEP BACK!:<- If a thing can perceive you, you can perceive it; if you know the operating space and are aware of your body in it. Really, I'm thinking about non-human, non-animal, entities, or those that only seem to be such... anyone remember Don Juan? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So if all we're doing is moving things around to make them unto our lik(ing|eness) we've got to have a stable nexus (body) from which we can push and pull. But who says we've got one body, eh? Well... not me anyways, but I'd better hope you know that already and that you've got one such body at least - bend that spoon goddammit! It's all a pushmi-pullyu but we've forgotten how to listen to (wild) animals, yet alone talk to them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

STEP INTO THE 4TH DIMENSION!: so these bodies leave trails, not two ways about it, going from one place to another implies a path. We've got this long t(r)ail "behind" us - that's our personal history. And so does everyone else; they've got their backstory too. Each of the people we come into contact with, either walking down the street or while drinking in a dive, has been led there by some sort of story that actually extends WAY back into the past to our prime ancestors, but try not to think of Darwin here... 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now take a dip, so to speak, and imagine that we actually have control over this body - 'cause we do; unless you forgo freewill, and that's not what magic/life is all about. You should have realized it already, but we're in a choose-your-own-adventure novel and we're all coauthors.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If we're leaving marks on reality with our choices, aren't we then some how like a pencil, or pen, really - I don't know how to erase the past other than to let the oncoming future wash it away, and it's probably not a good idea if it is possible: repressed memories, trauma, etc. don't really help people. But, can we pick up a big sloppy paint brush dripping with some turpentine and make this thing a bit more like Dali and Dada, instead of a series of switches and pushing each other's buttons? Maybe some kind of acid will do the trick. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Painting a picture with our thoughts and actions, through our bodies "and moving shit around"™️. We've got story lines and histories, factual ones and may-as-well-be-falsified recorded ones, and people are walking these story lines and sometimes getting into trouble together. Every story needs an antagonist, right? But, I at least, don't want to appear in every blockbuster action movie - give me something more like a 16th century alchemist in silent repose patiently watching some six month reaction taking place in an alembic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With our mental "machinery" there are different structures that variously pattern our activities and perceptions - don't go smashing them all to bits now, would you? - Two such conceptual summations pertaining here are the notions of "what is real" & "what is possible". First you should dismantle that bit about "what is real" - you're not being a very humble human if you think you know what is actually going on, now are you? - I'm just a man, not the universal architect - You know that quantum nonsense being used to build Teevees? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anywho, we've got a whole lot of assumptions going on that we regard as describing the factual reality that lies beyond our immediate apprehension. But really, we don't know. Using the admission that we really don't know what-the-fuck™️ is going on, and combining it with a distention of the possible, you can find some pretty strange stuff out there in that big mess of story lines. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You get into *real* trouble when you link up with a crew where the possible is outside the strictures of "the mass" (of [story line?] inertia). That "mass" points to a method, however, in that we can hook into the train as it keeps rolling on. It is easier to interface story arcs where there is repetition. Same old faces, you know? Gotta watch out for the randos that pop in just a minute, those can carry you away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Approach and recession - distance (in time & space). HEY YOU! Now you'd better drop that new-fangled hippie notion of the eternal NOW, godammit (for the time being) -> the more near a thing is, the more real it is, and reality is a bit tricky to bend (that spoon), now isn't it? But, if things that are far away [think of space] are less real, maybe more like a dream? then maybe we can work a bit of magic there by pulling in from that "possible space" out there, far way. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The possible is not real, but may become real according to the nature of that possibility. Seems probably easier with things that already move and don't have to be built or engineered. The local space of the real is actually very small. Take vision, for example, there is a very obvious frame where peripheral vision fades to black. For vision, the only thing that is real is within that field of view. Enter stage right: A bird passes across to left.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well, well, well - I think it's time to loop back and let this train disappear into the distance for awhile. PAY ATTENTION! It's already been said: The act of perception causes a change in the thing perceived; or, the feeling is mutual.

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. shades (.. thus named randomly; arbitrarily, basically .. ; ) thought back to a time when he was possessed of innocence; in a sense ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. it struck him, the parallel between the development of individuals & that of cultures, societies & their technologies .. & the valid point that those critics of progress raise against this 'myth', that there always seem to remain intractable problems & challenges that seem to defy the most far-reaching & wide-ranging of innovations .. 

.. & it further struck him that there are two ways to look at such challenges: one could either see them as insurmountable obstacles, immovable objects that will not yield to force, or as temporary impediments for a view of progress that argues that these also will be overcome by new 'technologies', new (reified) ways of thinking about the world that have yet to be either developed or adapted on a large scale .. 

.. admittedly, looking at the state of the world today, it's surely the 'easier' route to think of progress as an outdated myth that's past its sell-by date .. but how many times has this same thought echoed in the past, & how many will think so in the future ..? .. surely it's clear that the world we now inhabit is so different from some in the past that it would seem to visitors from there like another planet, or even another dimension of reality altogether .. 

.. & yet, now as it was then, certain qualities & attributes of reality, the world, persist .. certain (inner or hidden, i.e. esoteric or occult) mysteries will not yield to a discursive, rational approach .. they must be apprehended subjectively, & assimilated into one's inner experience(s) to be 'known' at all ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

& when or where has there ever been a society or a culture that didn't somehow be lie ve in magic(k) ..? .. the short answer is that there has never been, nor will there ever be; not only that, but such self-styled ideological rivals as scientism, being the belief that *everything* falls under the scientific purview, & which once proclaimed the death of magic as such, are now in decline, even as the esoteric outlook and its ideas pervade every (social) medium ..

 

 

 

 

.. & so it will certainly be in the future .. whatever innovations, inventions, technologies or ideologies develop in time, there will always be a space for the inner & hidden matters, & there will always be seekers of initiation into & experience of these timeless & boundless mysteries ..

.. never mind electric sheep, do AI dreams predict the future..? .. no matter where we look, we will find the occult, the esoteric .. & those adepts of matters esoteric will without a doubt be the best prepared to meet such future chaLLenges con fidently wherever (& whenever) they find themselves ..

 

 

 

.. don't fear success ..

.. but don't expect it to be exactly as you expect ..

This is where I am today…..
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

….islands away.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Never to stay.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Never not to try,
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Never to truly be….here.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No more deals with distraught.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fountain pen head,
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Struggles to skewer,
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dreams to sea,
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Freya to invoke.

retroshades

(or, be the eclipse you want to see in the world)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. the wrap-up that occurs with retrograde could be seen as the setting of a scene, time or era. A recapitulation that leads to a new beginning ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My bathroom sparkles like the stars I can’t clutch. 

 

 

 

 

 

A vision too tactile to inspire salvation trough reflection.

 

 

 

 

 

 

That’s the key we reject.  Apathy.
 
 

 

 

 

 

Nothing is safe beneath these lights.
 

 

 

 

 

 

Always a shadow to comfort me.
 

 

 

 

 

A slip in the stream, doesn’t it always seam?
 

 

 

 

 

A penance for pleasure, an appliance for me to railroad my escape into relief.
 

 

 

 

 

 

Well baby in a nutshell that’s just all I see.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pulling out hair in doubt. …..I thrive in the dive.
 

 

 

 

 

 

And there is no meat on the grass for me. Green to the bone.
 

 

 

 

 

 

When will it appear to me?
 

 

 

 

 

 

The {matter} isn’t how far we are, but rather how hard the try.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There’s an analogy in there, a punch towards tempered skies.
 

 

 

 

 

 

There is no way. All tense is past.     
 

 

 

 

 

 

Gaslight.
 

 

 

 

 

 

Stars sinking beyond always.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I grapple to pierce myths, but the sedation of lies tempers my resolve.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I cook labyrinths in my kitchen of try.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I spend faster than I can die.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I audition to fall. Endless unrealized ambitions.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anxiety is sanctuary to me. Because baby I can never see why you are so afraid, but I am always so frail. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And together we can make a pair of wait and see.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A tightrope of self-medication, strung between try and deny.
 

 

 

 

 

 

My bedroom breathes truths to me, repressed desires masturbated into fires.
 

 

 

 

 

 

The sun breaks always too early, and never too late, but how can that be baby when maybe is all I see.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Terrestrial treasures are my most coveted bore.
 
 

 

 

 

 

Dripping digital anxiety, an estate of sublate.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We have to come back to (G)eometry again and again, as that is always where, at least, my mind tends to lead, and I think we've already said that there are many geometries. One of which is in our choice of what we surround ourselves with, and the arrangements of our living and the scenes and objects we frequent. The lives of humans find their representations of stories, which have from the first long-ago tail been elaborated by the use of symbols and types. The analogical correspon[d(a|e)nces] by which yarns are spun have their foundation in the early days of the race, specifically our own early days. The lion and the sun, etc.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How have people been hypnotized by their various currencies? What old mummies, embalmed long ago, protected by negative green, hold sway over the current hour? Has the power of the people become an agent in the deaths of men from past? When will we get past the mere material uses of symbolized, tokenized, human energy?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Smoke and spirits, Rising Fast, Turn the wheels of time. And once upon a time, These UNITED STATES (of mind), Hand a silverine mercurial dime.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. it's either All Intelligence Is Artificial or No Intelligence Is Artificial .. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. which sounds somewhat simplistic, I suppose one might think .. ironic, because that's exactly why I'm critical of people who say things like chatGPT are "just" whatever .. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. & the problem is with the "just", not the whatever .. it's definitive of reductionist thinking ..it's a slippery slope that leads directly to the deduction of the instru-mentality of reality to "merely" human ends .. & isn't that what got us into this mess in the first place..?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. a far more productive con ception of humanity's engagement with the world is that of a con versation between at least arguable equals .. each exchange a link in a chain .. that never began, & will never end ..

.. & speaking of links ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. all of magick can be derived from the con cept of magickal links ..

.. that there are tangible con nections between objects, thoughts or energies not just be they physically linked, but also on other planes, such as those of intellectual reflection or even resonance .. this underlies everything from the magickal ritual circle, to various tools, incantations, astrological correspondences, etc ..

.. indeed, many advanced magicians do not Work with rituals or spells at all, but with (bio)energetics in particular, & with energy fields in general ..

.. by setting up very simple recurring patterns demarcated by (a) space & (a) time, certain, shall we say, standing waves of habits are "programmed" into reality itself .. enfolded into a manifold that is thus indexed & can be linked to from various spaciotemporal locations or stations, either by the Working magician or even by others ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. in this way, the spaciotemporal matrix itself is imbued with the qualities; the attributes & trajectories the magician seeks to explore, nurture & develop ..

.. it's worth noting that, following this trajectory, we're very far from at least the common understanding of chaos magick here, where things culminate in a climax ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 .. on the con trary, from this perspective, magick would ideally be a con stant & endless practice that is aLLways happening @LL the time .. needless to say, in order to function at that level, the magician requires a great deal of discipline & self-con trol ..