maandag 1 januari 2007
zondag 3 december 2006
Farting in a bottle
"Civilization is the interval between Ice Ages." - Will Durant.
Humankind evolved from pre-literary supermonkeys towards anarchy, matriarchy, patriarchy and what's now sensed as the technological peak of human evolution. Maybe those eons of evolution shall prove to be no more than a "fart in a bottle", a Dutch expression meaning of a value close to nil.
It seems to me the unsatifactory feeling permeating our society could show that we are only in a transitional period. Both pillars of our evolution, language and technology, could prove only temporary tools to deal with our existence, and for lack of better tools, incomplete. It seems by using only these two tools we created a worldview slightly off the hook. We even managed to make the word 'culture' rhyme with 'nature', as if the first had a similar value in existence to the latter. Maybe culture is no more than the temporary, clumsy way of the evolutioning ape to deal with its fears and hopes, and not a synonym to 'evolution' as it is often percieved.
Through the 8 Circuit Model of Leary, Wilson and AIli I have the habit of analyzing any situation (information) man has to deal with through the three components of reception, digestion and reflection.
The Reception seems garbled, influenced by our drugs (sugar, caffeine, red meat, nicotine), all meant to help us accept consensus (culture-driven) reality. Language and technology have become our sole ways of input: the words have become the world, and technology pushes us into faster and shorter attention spans making it almost impossible to assimilate, let alone to reflect on the percieved information.
Digestion of the information cannot happen in a serene fashion, our conditioning in the western culture gives only attention to third cicruit reasoning; the insights obtained by other brain activities, such as psychoactive-induced states, dreaming, zen meditation, trance or narcolepsy (a condition I meet almost every day) are considered at best funny, at worst worthless.
As for the Reflection, our emotional and social circuits urge us to adjust our belief systems to fit into one or more of the ruling paradigms. And here the same tools are used again (hence this blog), and often become means by themselves: literature and industry.
My guess is culture is only a temporary condition in our evolution. Some pretend the world will radically change in 2012… I have no idea if and when a shift will be percieved, but I have strong suspicions that a fundamental change will happen for us to have chance as a species to leave this temporary dead end and finally deal with ourselves and the world.
"Being monkeys, when we encounter a translinguistic object, a kind of cognitive dissonance is set up in our hindbrain. We try to pour language over it and it sheds it like water off a duck's back. We try again and fail again , and this cognitive dissonance, this "wow" or "flutter" that is building off this object causes wonder, astonishment, and awe at the brink of terror." Terence McKenna, "The Archaic Revival", HarperCollins 1991. Elsewhere in this book McKenna points at how Octopi communicate with each other in a way that might be closer to nature than man does, hence less garbled with noise: instead of a symbolic language they use coloured patterns on ther skin. As such the awareness of the the world of an octopus might be shown higher ranking than the human one in Korzybski's Anthropometer.
Humankind evolved from pre-literary supermonkeys towards anarchy, matriarchy, patriarchy and what's now sensed as the technological peak of human evolution. Maybe those eons of evolution shall prove to be no more than a "fart in a bottle", a Dutch expression meaning of a value close to nil.
It seems to me the unsatifactory feeling permeating our society could show that we are only in a transitional period. Both pillars of our evolution, language and technology, could prove only temporary tools to deal with our existence, and for lack of better tools, incomplete. It seems by using only these two tools we created a worldview slightly off the hook. We even managed to make the word 'culture' rhyme with 'nature', as if the first had a similar value in existence to the latter. Maybe culture is no more than the temporary, clumsy way of the evolutioning ape to deal with its fears and hopes, and not a synonym to 'evolution' as it is often percieved.
Through the 8 Circuit Model of Leary, Wilson and AIli I have the habit of analyzing any situation (information) man has to deal with through the three components of reception, digestion and reflection.
The Reception seems garbled, influenced by our drugs (sugar, caffeine, red meat, nicotine), all meant to help us accept consensus (culture-driven) reality. Language and technology have become our sole ways of input: the words have become the world, and technology pushes us into faster and shorter attention spans making it almost impossible to assimilate, let alone to reflect on the percieved information.
Digestion of the information cannot happen in a serene fashion, our conditioning in the western culture gives only attention to third cicruit reasoning; the insights obtained by other brain activities, such as psychoactive-induced states, dreaming, zen meditation, trance or narcolepsy (a condition I meet almost every day) are considered at best funny, at worst worthless.
As for the Reflection, our emotional and social circuits urge us to adjust our belief systems to fit into one or more of the ruling paradigms. And here the same tools are used again (hence this blog), and often become means by themselves: literature and industry.
My guess is culture is only a temporary condition in our evolution. Some pretend the world will radically change in 2012… I have no idea if and when a shift will be percieved, but I have strong suspicions that a fundamental change will happen for us to have chance as a species to leave this temporary dead end and finally deal with ourselves and the world.
"Being monkeys, when we encounter a translinguistic object, a kind of cognitive dissonance is set up in our hindbrain. We try to pour language over it and it sheds it like water off a duck's back. We try again and fail again , and this cognitive dissonance, this "wow" or "flutter" that is building off this object causes wonder, astonishment, and awe at the brink of terror." Terence McKenna, "The Archaic Revival", HarperCollins 1991. Elsewhere in this book McKenna points at how Octopi communicate with each other in a way that might be closer to nature than man does, hence less garbled with noise: instead of a symbolic language they use coloured patterns on ther skin. As such the awareness of the the world of an octopus might be shown higher ranking than the human one in Korzybski's Anthropometer.
dinsdag 3 oktober 2006
Help Bob
Robert Anton Wilson, the man who influenced and still does different generations, the guy who opened my third nostril with the multi-layered wisdom in his books, the master who made my grass green again, the rising Prometheus offering the fire for those who dare, the person thanx to whom I entered the Maybe Logic Academy and finally started this blog, seems in financial turmoil.
I was honoured to be taught by him in several online classes in the MLA, from the seminal Quantum Psychology course last year to the Tale of the Tribe (supposed to be the title of his next book), and the Non-Euclidean Politics.
During the first course Bob became siriusly ill. He has post-polio syndrome which, regarding his age (74) seems irreversible and quickly degenerative. The man with a mind the size of a continent and an ego the size of a grain of sand was lying in bed, quickly losing his capacity to move and with speech difficulties.
A few months ago some people who know him put out the news he was dying. A few weeks later he put out the mail-koan "I'm still not not" and seemed to recover a bit. His good temper and inexhaustible humor gave his fans a bit of hope… But his physical condition remains critical.
Now it seems because of the amount of health care he needs in a country with no social help (he has only the income from the sell of his books), Bob Wilson is unable to pay the rent.
In this crazy world, a sleek bad writer like Dan Brown can virtually rip off some of Bob Wilson's lesser ideas and get away with it (believe me he did) and become horribly rich; but the Discordian Pope who invented Guerilla Ontology, developped further Timothy Leary's 8 Circuit Model of the Mind, elaborated on E-prime, on Maybe Logics, Quantum Psychology, the cybernetic trickster who married NLP to Crowleyian Magick, the encyclopedic mind who examined almost every possible conspiracy (and invented some), the world authority on the mystery of number 23, the founder of Operation Mindfuck is sick in bed waiting to get evicted by his landlord.
Ffffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkk!
Something seems very wrong with this picture indeed.
What can be done?
You can start by buying Bob's books.
Most are published by New Falcon Press. Check out their catalog offering his 20+ books, from philosophical essays to mind-opening novels. My favourite for this moment are his both Illuminati trilogies:
Cosmic Trigger and The Historical Illuminati Chronicles, the Schrodinger Cat Trilogy, Prometheus Rising and Quantum Psychology. I only miss three of his books in my library. By buying one of his books for the first time not only the royalties will help him survive, but by reading it you'll feel like to start to think at last. As one critic wrote about Bob's writings: "Like swallowing a hand grenade coated with LSD: it will either expand your mind or blow it to Kingdom Come." Or as Bob himself wrote: "think for yourself, schmuck".
You can become a member of the Maybe Logic Academy.
This is a private forum with lots of on-line courses. For a nominal fee, you can get taught 'Angel Tech' right now, by Antero Alli; 'Meta-magick' by Philip H. Farber; 'Modern Visionary Art' by Erik Davies; 'Running Your Own Cult' by reverend Ivan Stang of the Subgenius foundation, and more to come. Read here a review of the MLA. To enter the forum either you apply for one course and it comes for free, either you pay 60 $ for one year. Join me and meet some of the finest minds this side of the Pecos. Discussions about belief systems, Korzybski, kaballah, Wilhelm Reich, conspiracies, weird stuff, fun stuff, magick, and virtually whatever makes one tick. I understand some of the income goes to Bob; in fact the Academy started to help him out when he was too ill to travel around giving workshops to survive. So he started to give courses online.
If you want to know more (maybe more than you want to know), buy the Maybe Logic DVD: "The lives and Ideas of Robert Anton Wilson". Gives the effect of the movie Videodrome to the conscious mind. Here the royalties for Bob should be a bit larger.
Finally, for those who bought all his books already, you can give a donation through paypal. All you need to do is set up a paypal account, log in and click on 'Send money'. Bob's paypal account is olgaceline@gmail.com
If you think this is a hoax, you can read more about this in Douglas Rushkoff's blog.
Update 6th october 2006
Great news. The call for help on BoingBoing gave up more than could be expected. In three days sharp, 68.000 $ were collected. This means Bob can stay in his home, he will have the health care he needs (several thousands $ a month in the USA), and especially, he feels happy again. Read his own words - and his daughter's - at
BoingBoing.
But let's not stop sending him material help. I hope I'll be able to send him (maybe even ridiculously small amounts) a bit for the years to come.
zondag 24 september 2006
The Elohim update
I finally came up with a name for god's offspring. For what it's worth - if and when I find a new home for them they'll probably be renamed blackie, pussy, 'the cat' or whatever stupid name people come up with - here goes:
Ezra. The pic doesn't show but sHe has a white stripe from top of head to chin. Looks a bit like Pound's beard.
Orson. One big fat critter. Just like mr. Welles.
Bucky. Has a big forehead, looks like the smartest (and smallest) of the bunch. Only has a third of a tail since birth. Was the first one to SEE. My tribute to Buckminster Fuller.
Alfred. The most exploring, the most mature of them all (and yet the last-born). Was first to start exploring, first to wash hiRself… As discoverer of the world, named both after count Korzybski and monsieuye Jarry.
Ezra. The pic doesn't show but sHe has a white stripe from top of head to chin. Looks a bit like Pound's beard.
Orson. One big fat critter. Just like mr. Welles.
Bucky. Has a big forehead, looks like the smartest (and smallest) of the bunch. Only has a third of a tail since birth. Was the first one to SEE. My tribute to Buckminster Fuller.
Alfred. The most exploring, the most mature of them all (and yet the last-born). Was first to start exploring, first to wash hiRself… As discoverer of the world, named both after count Korzybski and monsieuye Jarry.
zaterdag 2 september 2006
A pregnant god
My cat god had 4 healthy kittens last friday. This seems the most important event of the year to me.
God came living with me last year in August and became good friends with my male cat KIA. I always wanted to be able to yiel 'god' at the end of the day to get her inside, and to watch the puzzled looks on the face of the neighbours.
As KIA was neutered years ago, god became quite close with one of the infinite number of cats from the farmer next door.
In her 12th month she became pregnant.
Finally on the 25th of August 2006 she gave birth to four healthy kittens. The first one (I'll call hir Elohim 1) she abandoned and came to me for help, too young and too much in pain to realize what she was supposed to do. With a little help nature took over and she took care of number one while number two was on its way. The last one, born after three hours of labour, seemed very weak and I thought (s)he wouldn't make it. Today it's the biggest of the bunch and the most dominant, while number one turns out the smallest.
The first four days she kept them safe under a warm blanket.
Below pics of day 1…
Day 2…
Day 3…
Three days ago she moved them from under the blanket to a shelf next to the ead end of my bed. I felt honoured for the trust.
Day 7:
Today (day 8) I took pics of each one individually.
This is the smallest and first, completely black:
This is Elohim two, black with a white moustache, the only one whose eyes opened yet, extremely curious and hard to photograph:
This is Elohim three, white belly and a white mark on the forehead:
And this is Elohim four, the big one and very ugly for the time being. Looks like a cow.
God came living with me last year in August and became good friends with my male cat KIA. I always wanted to be able to yiel 'god' at the end of the day to get her inside, and to watch the puzzled looks on the face of the neighbours.
As KIA was neutered years ago, god became quite close with one of the infinite number of cats from the farmer next door.
In her 12th month she became pregnant.
Finally on the 25th of August 2006 she gave birth to four healthy kittens. The first one (I'll call hir Elohim 1) she abandoned and came to me for help, too young and too much in pain to realize what she was supposed to do. With a little help nature took over and she took care of number one while number two was on its way. The last one, born after three hours of labour, seemed very weak and I thought (s)he wouldn't make it. Today it's the biggest of the bunch and the most dominant, while number one turns out the smallest.
The first four days she kept them safe under a warm blanket.
Below pics of day 1…
Day 2…
Day 3…
Three days ago she moved them from under the blanket to a shelf next to the ead end of my bed. I felt honoured for the trust.
Day 7:
Today (day 8) I took pics of each one individually.
This is the smallest and first, completely black:
This is Elohim two, black with a white moustache, the only one whose eyes opened yet, extremely curious and hard to photograph:
This is Elohim three, white belly and a white mark on the forehead:
And this is Elohim four, the big one and very ugly for the time being. Looks like a cow.
zondag 27 augustus 2006
Chicken
I chickened out.
Becoming a landowner shall remain a dream I guess. From this moment on Clinamen22 is defined as the imaginary dwelling place where Clinamen23 is produced.
As much as I intended to buy my own house, my financial conditions gave me only very few possibilities. The house in Mouscron I intended to buy had only one positive point: the fact that I could allow myself to buy it. Barely. As a location in a city, in region I do not know, far away both from my current social circle and my current job, with the prospectives of surviving a hard winter with my cats, in a house without gas nor water, hoping that my furniture and books survive the cold and moistness, and with my hopeless inability to connect to money and material possession, with me having no money put aside, I only kept it going because of my chronical stubborness.
Every day last week I got new information concerning extra expenses to manage to make that house liveable - just the basics, no finishing. Finally an expert from the mortgage agency phoned me mentioning a prize much higher than what I can afford to lent. I should have needed about 9000 euros in two years time, above the mortgage, to pay for all expenses. Seems that's a lot more than I thought in my naivity in buying and renovating a building.
I've called the whole shit off. I guess I haven't slept much since the beginning of August when I signed the first papers. I feel like a Leviathan coming off my shoulders.
Now it's back to square one, about 40 days left to find something to rent. And a probable rest-of-life of renting and licking landlord's boots. Maybe?
dinsdag 15 augustus 2006
Clinamen22
I have been searching for a new home for months. The rents have gone skyrocketing, I feared the worst. Seems like I'll manage to move after all. If all goes well I'll become the owner of a small house with a garden in Mouscron, just passed the Flemish language border in Wallonia, a few kilometres from France as well. Finally I too shall enjoy the bourgeois angst of living with a mortgage for probably the rest of my life.
As this blog has the name 'Clinamen23' I'll call my house 'Clinamen22' since it bears number 22. The original Collège de 'Pataphysique had its HQ in founder Anne de Latis' villa Clinamen in France. It seems this building still exists, but it was sold a few years ago and the 'Organon Exécutif' was moved to another location. Maybe one day I'll start my own spin-off of the Collège; the 'Vlaams Patafysisch Instituut' has become awfully quiet. To keep up with the mystery of 23, number 23 should be on the other side of the street but there's only an empty space with grass and trees there - it goes directly from number 15 to number 31 a bit further up the road.
It will take me more work than I can even imagine to even make it a place to live in. No water, no gas, the electricity needs to be adjusted, no floor, just a fireplace as heating system… but given enough 'pataphysics, kaballah and maybe logic I'll pull through what I hope shall be a mild winter. It shall become extremely calm on this blog. Next year in March I hope to broadcast Clinamen 23 right from Clinamen 22!
As this blog has the name 'Clinamen23' I'll call my house 'Clinamen22' since it bears number 22. The original Collège de 'Pataphysique had its HQ in founder Anne de Latis' villa Clinamen in France. It seems this building still exists, but it was sold a few years ago and the 'Organon Exécutif' was moved to another location. Maybe one day I'll start my own spin-off of the Collège; the 'Vlaams Patafysisch Instituut' has become awfully quiet. To keep up with the mystery of 23, number 23 should be on the other side of the street but there's only an empty space with grass and trees there - it goes directly from number 15 to number 31 a bit further up the road.
It will take me more work than I can even imagine to even make it a place to live in. No water, no gas, the electricity needs to be adjusted, no floor, just a fireplace as heating system… but given enough 'pataphysics, kaballah and maybe logic I'll pull through what I hope shall be a mild winter. It shall become extremely calm on this blog. Next year in March I hope to broadcast Clinamen 23 right from Clinamen 22!
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