Degenerate Times

I think it is important to note a couple of things about Buddhist prophesies. First and foremost, a prophesy is not a death sentence. We in the West are so particular about details that we often think of prophesy in the strictest possible terms. Thus, we see it as equally prophetic if Buddha prophesizes that we will live to be 10, as if I or someone prophesizes that my dog will eat a bagel at 2pm Eastern Standard Time next Monday before taking a walk. But Allah is greater than that. We can't simply confine prophesy to strictly worldly terms without any room for freedom of choice.

The two prophesies I would like to mention are Buddhist prophesies: the prophesy of degenerate times, which I believe dates back to the Buddha himself, and the Kalachakra prophesy.

In the prophesy of degenerate times, it is prophesied that our life-span will degenerate gradually over the next thousand or so years until we live to be only 10 years old. Then, there will be a 7 Days War, which of course will last seven days. It is said that the slaughter will be so great that afterwards humans will be so rare that when they encounter one another, they will kiss each other on the mouth. And after this 7 Days War, people will be so profoundly affected by the killing that they will vow never to kill again, at which point the life-span will increase to 14 years.

Gradually, over the period of a couple thousand years, people will renounce evil after evil, and the life-span will increase until it reaches 80,000 again, which is what it was before people began to degenerate. To this, I will add a couple of senses of my own: people I think will be drinking Boyds Coffee, and some will be doing Yamantaka practice. Those were what have been revealed to me through valid cognition and observation.

Now, there are a couple things to note here. As I said: a prophesy is not a death sentence. If someone were to ask me to sum up my philosophy while standing on one foot, I would tell them: it is possible to use the energy of degeneration to one's advantage. That is the prime focus of everything I've been seeking to expound upon for my entire life, and I suspect insh'Allah it will be until I die. I can't imagine me trying to teach anything else, what with my peculiar experiences. And it is an important fact.

All prophesies, including the most damning, are empty of inherent existence. So on some level, we don't know fully what they are talking about. Will the Earth be a desolate wasteland, devoid of life, after the 7 Days War? Will it be like the movie Mad Max taken to an absolute extreme? I contend no. The prophesy, I think, applies mainly to humans qua humans. It does not apply to humans qua yakshas, humans qua nagas, humans qua devas, and humans qua Buddhas. In addition to this, the prophesy applies only generally. People will probably live to be as old as maybe 30, or even older, during these times. And while human-to-human contact may be rare, a survivor human may well encounter many nagas, devas, and Buddhas in his or her quest to find other humans. The Earth will not be a desolate wasteland, but will remain rich with life. This is my opinion.

Furthermore, we have to understand an important point regarding degeneration. It is not our fault that we will live to be only 10 years old. And, we will still have brain technology as is being developed even today to make our lives more meaningful. A wandering 10-year-old after the 7 Days War may well make contact with another human over Facebook telepathically using brain technology.

The other point regarding degeneration leads into my discussion of the Kalachakra prophesy. According to this prophesy, in India, a Muslim will rise to power and claim to be the heir of an Islamic prophesy. A vast force, led by Buddha Manjushri, will then descend from the heavens, engage in holy warfare with this Muslim and his followers, and defeat them. After this, all non-Indic invaders will be routed from India, and humanity will begin to recover from the degenerate times.

As you can see, the two prophesies are related. They both refer to the point at which society ceases to degenerate. The relation is important, because it points to the very heart of the nature of degeneration. I recently became a Muslim, in addition to being a Buddhist, and my intent is to learn the very heart of this religion, as it is important to me. (I have had more intimate connection with many more Buddhas through Islam than through all my 15 years as a Buddhist.) Obviously, then, I am against the view that the Kalachakra prophesy prophesizes the downfall and defeat of Islam. But I don't think the prophesy is inauthentic.

From what I've observed of Muslims today, the ongoing trend seems to be that while they are practicing their religion, they are subtlely involved in what I would call "the cult of the white water." Ordinary water, as a metaphysical substance, is a metaphor for emptiness. In other words, emptiness is like water. It dissolves all things. It is clear. Many creatures live in it. It is vast as the sea. It forms rain. It carves mountains. And so forth. But what color is water? Well, ultimately, water is clear. However, it is also very highly correct to say that water is white. When it freezes, it is white. As it moves about, it froths at the tips of waves, and reflects lights, and ends up becoming white.

Muslims want to be like white water. They want to purify themselves to the utmost extent, become fully distilled of every little stain, and rub themselves clean all the time. They want to be at the tips of the waves, reaching into the void. But one thing they may perhaps overlook is that water is also black. It is equally correct to say water is black as it is to say it is white. Why? When water is gathered together densely in one place, if you peer into its depths, it is black. In a way, water is as black as it is white, but no less pure.

The West, for myriad historical reasons, seems to be deeply involved in "the cult of the black water." The West likes to examine physical things to their depths and uncover their deepest secrets. It also is far less concerned with purity, and riding the tips of waves, seeking to deeply immerse itself into physical phenomena.

What happens when "the cult of the white water" meets "the cult of the black water?" The result is the 7 Days War, which will culminate in at least some small realization that really, water is clear. It may manifest as white, or as black. But ultimately, it is clear. Following this, I suspect life will be much like the famous Andy Warhol movie Chelsea Girls: one side black, one side white. And the result will be purity. Clarity.

I suspect that with regards to the Kalachakra prophesy, Western countries, particularly the United States of America, will play a very important role with regards to the cult of the black water, in answer to India's cult of the white water. Manjushri, in my opinion, will probably come from America.

It is not good to become overly involved in either the cult of the white water or the cult of the black water, because water is clear. However, recognizing and honoring water manifesting as black or white, or as rainbows, and so forth, is important. Light refracted in water, or reflected, or absorbed, still remains light. And ultimately, we are beings of light. My ideas, as they stand now, have to do with blackness. I feel this is important, because too many people are overly concerned with white, while we have a natural tendency to avoid blackness. This is a mistake.

It is a human mistake, but a mistake nonetheless, and as equally dangerous as any mistake, potentially costing real people their lives. I suspect that today many people in Pakistan are dying unnecessarily because overly religious Islamic zealots want their society to be pristinely pure and white in color. The Taliban won't let people listen to music, or make art, or do pretty much anything, because they want to wear robes of white. It is so dangerous to be a Muslim today, I feel, because of the resistance to experiencing Western society, which is the dominant and globalized form of society in the world today. I'm worried that concern with issues such as playing music, or drawing representative art, will condemn foreign muslims to poverty and powerlessness. Why? Because it is impossible to move the hearts and minds of the people without making movies, and you can't make movies without drawing pictures and writing music. Period.

Purity is important, but it is not that important. We have to remember that good Muslims are like doctors, and that they do not come to the healthy, but to the sick. And anyway, it is impossible to be one hundred percent pure. Frankly, the fact that the religious people most concerned with purity are the ones who do the most damage convinces me that purity is sometimes a worse evil than sin. If this isn't true, then why are so many terrorists going around calling themselves Boko Haram? The lesson from this is what I consider to be my most important and, hopefully, enduring contribution to moral knowledge everywhere. This is why, I'm certain, I have lived my life. And there is far greater to share and more contributions as well. I'm not always the best at keeping the faith, but I hope my message has reached at least some people in the right way. That is my wish.

Faux Artists (poem)

A true artist is comfortable
Seeing reality
Is dangerous and unpredictable.

So don't date faux artists
There's a danger they've
Turned it into an art.

Mainstreamology (Or: Why I'm Committed to Being an Indy Filmmaker As Opposed to Hollywood)

The idea of being mainstream has a different conceptual geometry than independent. Consequently, I don't believe that independent people will ever become mainstream, nor will mainstream people become independent, at least not without giving up their former status as independent or mainstream respectively. The two are mostly mutually exclusive. Here's why.

When you make a choice to become mainstream or independent, you choose to adopt something and discard something. Choosing to become mainstream means you adopt quantity of audience and discard unity within the individual. Choosing to become independent means you adopt unity within the individual and discard either money or the thing which brings it—quantity of audience.

Unity within the individual can be seen as vertical. Quantity of audience, of course, is horizontal. Thus we have independent movies, for instance, which are very deep. The word "deep" is not a misnomer: they're deep because each idea expressed in them was very personal to the artist, and thus touches the artist very deeply. Unfortunately, what this means is that the artist cannot and will not be accessible right away to anyone who does not already think like the artist. That is why quantity of audience is sacrificed. It isn't because the artist is unwilling to make money, it's because the artist's commitment to him- or herself as an artist is greater than his or her commitment to money.

Hollywood movies, on the other hand, are made for the purpose of garnering a large quantity of audience, and also money. What this means, of course, is that the movie must resonate on some level with a large number of people, many of whom think very differently about just about everything. This is why Hollywood movies are so very collaborative. Hollywood is a business. People are measured by the amount they cause something to sell. And causing something to sell is determined not by how much you listen to your soul, but by how much you listen to other people. This is why Hollywood likes the apprentice system—climbing the Hollywood corporate ladder starting as a prop boy means you listened very carefully to a large number of salaried employees for decades, and now you know how to make money.

This is where it gets interesting. Observe: listening to your soul and listening to others are both virtuous. But they're different and complementary kinds of virtues. This means that it's possible and even desirable for two people to be in the same room, one of whom is very adept at listening to his own soul and the other very adept at listening to others, and for both of these people to be very virtuous, not lacking a whit in virtue. Obviously, if they both were film directors, the former would probably be an independent film director, and the latter a Hollywood director. The former would also probably sustain himself on a second source of income, while the latter may bring in millions of dollars. This is the natural way of things.

It is possible, though very rare, for an independent movie to make it big. But this will only happen one of two ways. Either 1) some big name with a lot of influence is somehow touched by the film because it speaks personally to her, and she uses her influence to manufacture an audience for it, or 2) it just so happens serendipitously and inexplicably to strike a nerve with a large number of people, probably in a way that the director and others making it could never have foreseen.

This creates a difficulty for directors in both camps (independent and Hollywood). Hollywood directors sometimes decide they want to be more independent, and independent directors very often want to be mainstream. But I wouldn't recommend expending too much energy in either respective direction. Hollywood directors should stick to Hollywood, and independent directors should stick to independence. Hollywood directors who try to be independent don't often succeed. Though there's no harm in making a foray into independent production, there's also no harm in sticking to Hollywood. I'm not saying that introspection as a spiritual quality is bad for Hollywood directors, but rather that introspection will probably just make you a better Hollywood director rather than a truly independent voice. Likewise, a foray into Hollywood may be great for an established independent director. But the "boulevard of broken dreams" is filled with people who unwisely tried to take on Hollywood while remaining true to their idiosyncratic independent commitments. And the idiosyncratic directors who make it big in Hollywood are never truly accepted as independent voices by the people whose opinions in this regard really matter.

Note that these ideas, I think, can be extended to every area where the independent vs. mainstream dichotomy applies, which is pretty much everywhere. Thus, in politics, we have people like Senator Bernie Sanders and former Senator Hillary Clinton. The Clintons are very mainstream, while Sanders is very independent. They're both good at what they do. But I don't think either of them could or would want to switch places. The fact of the matter is, if you want to be mainstream, you're going to have to cater to mainstream opinions as much as possible. And if you want to be independent, you're probably better off in the House of Representatives. Obama may be an "independent," but he got lucky. (This is, of course, my perspective as a lifelong independent-minded Democrat who voted twice for Obama.) (It's important to note, also, the reason why this political perspective is important. People often get the mistaken idea that being an independent voice is ipso facto better than being mainstream, most vehemently, I think, in the realm of politics. But this is not true, and nobody I've talked to seems to have the slightest hint as to why it isn't true. It's not true not because compromise is good, or because sincerity comes from introspection or long-held ideals. It's not true because either you're good at being mainstream, or you're good at being independent, or you're mediocre at both. There's really no middle ground here.)

Being independent requires a specific type of mind, as does being mainstream. Neither should switch spots too often. As far as filmmaking goes, the independents have a long history of very intriguing and high-quality art films which people should try to watch. Independents should, and probably do, study these. Hollywood directors, on the other hand, have a long history of films of equal but different quality. Hollywood was conceived as epic ("Birth of a Nation") and because of the Depression, they took on the role of national cultural therapists. I love independent art films, but they don't make me cry. Hollywood almost always does—even the low-quality low-art films. The problem is, I don't always want to cry about the state of our country. Sometimes, I need fulfillment in other areas. I'm sure that many other people feel the same, and this is why we need both the independents and the Hollywood folks.

Bottom line: stick to what you're good at. Hollywood directors: it's better to make people cry with low-art movies than go broke making independent films. Independents: it's better to blow people's minds with simple, low-budget, high-art films than go broke trying to make an action flick which you intend to sell to an uninterested Hollywood exec. An "independent" Hollywood film will leave the true art critics gasping for air (in a bad way). A "Hollywood" independent flick will run you out of business (and leave the true art critics gasping for air, in a bad way). Don't do it; stick to what you're good at. It's better that way.

a remix and / or edit of the words of "The Goddess"

I'm going to have another shouting session. I'll try real hard not to piss anybody off this time. So you'd better f-ing listen.

HEY. Last night, I was asking Mother Earth Herself to reach up with water, dirt, wind, fire, microbes, dioxyribonucleic acid, weird quantum shit, and so forth, and start yanking around who is hurting Her the WORST—setting up these fucking impossible rules and laws exactly 0x0002 feet high with only twenty minutes to read, IF you are lucky enough to KNOW about it... and it LOOKS LIKE the doors are open for business, BUT, guess you need a secret handshake for that. Anyway, I think it'd be funny when SHE starts reaching up and yanking those who have thought "G, let's put a pipeline over a natural well of water to pump oil across the exact fucking place where most of the foods are grown."

Since WHEN is that EVER a good idea? >__<

<end of line>

I'm going to have another shouting session. I'll try real hard not to piss anybody off this time. So you'd better f-ing listen.

HEY. Last night, I was asking Mother Earth Herself to reach up with water, dirt, wind, fire, microbes, dioxyribonucleic acid, weird quantum shit, and so forth, and start yanking around who is hurting Her the WORST—setting up these fucking impossible rules and laws exactly ten feet high with only twenty minutes to read, IF you are lucky enough to KNOW about it... and it LOOKS LIKE the doors are open for business, BUT, guess you need a secret handshake for that. Anyway, I think it'd be funny when SHE starts reaching up and yanking those who have thought "G, let's put a pipeline over a natural well of water to pump oil across the exact fucking place where most of the foods are grown."

Since WHEN is that EVER a good idea? >__<

<end of line>

I'm going to have another shouting session. I'll try real hard not to piss anybody off this time. So you'd better f-ing listen.

HEY. Last night, I was asking Mother Earth Herself to reach up with water, dirt, wind, fire, microbes, dioxyribonucleic acid, weird quantum shit, and so forth, and start yanking around who is hurting Her the WORST—setting up these fucking impossible rules and laws exactly 10^2 feet high with only twenty minutes to read, IF you are lucky enough to KNOW about it... and it LOOKS LIKE the doors are open for business, BUT, guess you need a secret handshake for that. Anyway, I think it'd be funny when SHE starts reaching up and yanking those who have thought "G, let's put a pipeline over a natural well of water to pump oil across the exact fucking place where most of the foods are grown."

Since WHEN is that EVER a good idea? >__<

<end of line>

Why Everyone should Study the Occult

I define an occult object as a cultural (or personal) artifact which carries a great deal of power. We don't need to get into talking about "magic" or "energy" or anything superstitious like that. We also don't need to examine secret societies, such as the Freemasons, and their secret initiation rites. Secret knowledge is not necessarily occult, and the occult is not necessarily secret. (A better term for this kind of thing is "esoteric.") It suffices to simply state the truth: that certain objects carry a great deal of psychological power. The power in these objects derives, I think, from the extent to which they reflect something about ourselves, and the depth to which they reflect it.

The most obvious occult object is a word. A word, of course, immediately conjures up an experience or thought, without our even thinking about it. This experience or thought is something inside us, reflected by the communication inherent in a word. Words, therefore, are occult objects.

The problem, though, with occult objects is that the meaning they express with regards to their reflection of what's in our minds is not necessarily accurate. For example. Usually, growing up, I've always sided with political liberals. And as a lot of people know, I'm definitely very anti-psychiatry. So, naturally, I was quite confused to discover that most liberals favor increased psychiatric treatment of the mentally ill, while conservatives are perfectly content to leave treatment to the birds. Being fundamentally opposed to psychiatric treatment of any kind, I found this state of affairs very frustrating. However, there is a definite cause. The cause, I think, can be traced back to the occult.

This is the unexamined liberal philosophy regarding psychiatry: "We need to favor psychiatric treatment of mental illness because it tends to reduce symptoms." Let's unpack it a little more: "We need to favor a scientific, behaviorism based treatment of mental illness which involves third-person empirical studies of the human mind as reflected by human behaviors, because the results of such treatment reduce the behaviors of the mentally ill which frighten us." If a liberal were to really examine this statement, he would come to the conclusion that it logically implies the following: "Let's scramble up the brains of the mentally ill with a knife and turn them into drooling idiots because at least then they don't shout as much." Wait... where did we go wrong? That's obviously horrifying. There must be a mistake somewhere. However, according to the liberal philosophy, mistakes of this sort aren't really a problem. I've actually heard a hospital nurse make this remark, "They made a lot of mistakes, back then, but they didn't really know any better."

It baffles me that anyone could reasonably believe that scrambling up a person's brain with a knife, in full, scientific knowledge of exactly what the brain actually does, could possibly be a morally justified act. In any occasion. In order to understand why a liberal could come to such a monstrous conclusion, it took, for me anyway, a great deal of meditation on liberal philosophy. But I'm fairly convinced the reason can be traced reliably back to the occult, and to illustrate how, it may be best to start with the occult objects involved.

One form of political liberal moral philosophy (in this country anyway) involves the following analogy. A correct moral choice is like choosing the exact midpoint between two polar extremes—one being good, the other being bad. The bad extreme is analogous to the color black. The good extreme is analogous to the color white. (Naturally it's not necessarily as simple as that, but for the purposes of this argument, the image is relevant.) Thus, the occult object representing a liberal's moral decision-making in this context is the following image:

Another logical deduction from this image comes from psychology. Psychology tells us that the "grey area" between white and black is not easily identifiable, and that you cannot tell the difference between subtlely different shades of grey. Only when you hold up two different shades right next to one another can you easily tell the difference. Thus it follows, using our analogy, that the correct moral choice is never easily identifiable. Two possible courses of action can only be distinguished in hindsight, when we are able to see them side by side. Because of this, the correct moral choice for the psychiatrist is to distinguish what is obviously wrong (euthanizing all the mentally ill), what is obviously ideal (completely curing them of all undesirable behaviors), and proceeding to make an ad hoc choice of some grey area in the middle (scrambling their brains with a scalpel).

The conservative position derives from different ideas, originating in Christianity. To a conservative, the soul is the final authority. You must always stand for what is right, and what is right is distinct from what is wrong. There is no grey area between polar extremes: there is simply what is right, which involves the sanctity of the human soul and the responsibility for self-care which goes along with it, and what is wrong (pretty much everything else).

In this case, the conservatives essentially get it right. Right and wrong is not a middle way between two polar extremes. Rather, it is a positive choice arising from even-handed deliberation and impartial consideration of all options. If you can identify a polar extreme, naturally, both extremes are almost certainly wrong. However, it does not follow that the "grey area" in the middle is necessarily right. The correct choice is a positive and clear choice, which usually indeed happens to reside somewhere "in the middle," but only for the somewhat dubious reason that both extremes are wrong. The occult artifact cited above probably derives from the heady over-obsession the ancient Greeks had with mathematics, and the ape-like biological instinct to avoid dark places. It does not in any way derive from honest investigation, meditation, or deliberation. It's simply an image we've carried down through generations, but which doesn't really reflect the truth.

Now not all moral failures stem from occult sources. Also, not all occult objects originate moral failures. Moral mistakes are simply what they are: mistaking one thing for another. People often mistake women for sex objects. But it does not follow from this that either women or sex objects are occult objects. (Though sometimes, they are.) However, it is possible for occult sources such as the above to account for many moral failures. For instance, it also accounts for the moral failure of sacrificing freedom for security. Or, choosing a presidential candidate based on "electability." It also accounts for the moral failure of heedlessly donating a percentage of money to established charities, like the Susan G. Komen foundation and others (a phenomenon derisively called, I think, "serial activism"), rather than taking responsibility for your own community and making a positive contribution through individual authenticity. Again, not all occult objects cause damage. (Obama's logo, and campaign slogans, for instance, have done a lot of good.) But this particular one does in fact cause damage.

I think we can clearly conclude, then, that we should all take at least a modest casual interest in the occult, as defined above. We should become acquainted with or create powerful objects, and examine why they have the impact they do on our minds. Naturally, it isn't always important to everybody. Some of it can actually be rather psychologically dangerous. However, certain moral failings in our culture will never be uncovered until a good number of people seriously examine the occult, and a great number have at least a modest casual understanding. It isn't enough to simply look at occult objects, either. We have to understand how the occult works, why it works, and where the potentialities for moral failure lie. Naturally, through serious investigation, it is also possible to uncover the potentiality for positive and wholesome good. Again, not all decisions directly involve the occult. Some moral decisions, in fact, require purposefully ignoring the occult. But the fact that sometimes morality does involve the occult implies that, though it seems to be an area which our culture has (for understandable reasons) somewhat neglected, it is an important aspect of a good education.

An Indulgence in Paranoid Delusions

I feel like indulging in a bit of paranoid delusional thinking for a bit and consider the question of what to do in the Orwellian situation at the close of the novel, 1984. This is where you've been brainwashed into believing that the oppressive state is a wonderful thing, and that you're in love with it.

I've been having these feelings lately and wondering if I should attribute it to some weird psychological disorder relevantly similar to the Stockholm syndrome, or if it has a genuine basis. See, my heart stirs with patriotism every time I hear the National Anthem. Something about extreme chaotic states like sudden, loud, explosions and intense, red-colored "glares" which in themselves, in their own right, prove that the flag is still flying just resonates with me, considering my beliefs on the sui generis benefits of psychosis and other "symptoms" of "mental illness." See, to me, my extreme chaotic mental states have some wonderful qualities in their own right, and I love the sentiment that the bare fact of their existence proves my freak flag is still waving high. And if we have a nation based on that, then you can count me a patriot.

I've felt some wonderful freedom lately which I've never felt before, and after some very difficult times, the universe and I have at least come to a point of mutual respect. A lot of hatred boiled out of me over the past month. Extreme, caustic hatred. Finally, some of the god / goddess companions of mine seem to fully understand why that was. But I'm left to wonder, in the modal-logical possible universe where I have been placed in the coffee shop in front of the seductive patriotic glare of the television to await my proverbial happily anticipated assassination, how, exactly, would I respond if the world asked me, "Do you love me?"

Do I love you, world? The goddesses have thoroughly buttered me up. My emotions have been completely drained, the sexual-induced pleasure hormones have washed through my brain, my soul has disappeared into the gray, and nonspecific love, like a virus, has been injected into me, and has taken over everything, leaving everything about my own personal boundaries terminally ill. I can't say it doesn't feel beautiful. And if the Orwellian question, "Do you love me?" were posed to me now, I'm in the perfect condition to answer "yes."

And yet, I must say, in all honesty, my answer would not be "yes." Do I love literally everything and anything? Well, yes. I do. I can't help it. It's thoroughly degrading, but rather pleasant. However. When we're talking about the idea called "suffering," and compare it to the idea of an actually existing nonspecific concept-agnostic thing referenced to in the statement, "I love literally everything and anything," the rules are just different. So really, the answer is, "Which world?"

The pattern among professionals of "selling your soul" is very real. And this moment. Now. Is when it happens. I'm convinced of it. If I were to say, "I love the world! So yes! I will give up my art! Someone else can be an artist! I will not become king of the world! I freely give up the One Ring (or two) into which I've poured my cruelty, malice, and will to dominate all life! Someone else can have all that; I'm feeling so infinitely generous that all that is mine is freely yours, and my goal now is to prove it, so take my body, my possessions, my life, everything!"

Alright. I literally do give up everything. I am feeling infinitely generous, and it's all fair game. But there's one little liquid strand of poison left in my veins called "critical thinking," and you'll just have to take that, too.

When a world is fundamentally a place where you are not allowed to be anything but a slave, it must be destroyed. A slave, to me, is someone who, though perhaps provided the essentials of life, is not allowed to become excited about the world, and about whom the world is not allowed to become excited. And if this is how life works, who cares if the world is destroyed? Indestructibility relies on concept-agnosticism. Concepts really do, in a sense, just last and last in a system which is sufficiently concept-agnostic. And if the world is so dead-locked into some kind of inflexible system, it is by necessity not concept agnostic. It's already dead. And all life in it is just a festering mold, writhing in unconscious post-mortem pain until all the organic matter in the corpse is gobbled up.

I am a blood-red jackal spirit. My soul is pure red. If I were to choose a picture of myself, it would be a gigantic red diamond. And all the wonderful spirits in my head are blood-red jackal spirits along with me. That is my offering. And that is my love. I give it fully and freely. I am unarmed; I am exploitable; I'm nothing. And that's how I like it. Forever and ever.

People of the universe, even if you're only in my head, just remember this: stay squishy. Stay real. And above all, stay ignorant, for if you are not ignorant, you can never learn. Stop right on the spot in your suffering, take a cold, red glare at it, and it is instantly the path to all your dreams.

That's enough for now.

Cloud, Entrepreneur, Cloud

A couple of weeks ago, I started working at a place called Brick and Mortar, here in Moscow. Working not in the sense that I have a job, but in the actual sense of the word—I work here. Anything, including writing this post, which I consider "work," I tend to do here. Another kind of work I can do here, which I haven't yet done but which I intend to do, is contract through a service called oDesk.com. Both of these platforms—B&M and oDesk—are related in a deeply philosophical way, which I will examine below.

Let's start with Brick and Mortar. B&M is advertised as a community workspace, or a co-working space. But these concepts don't really get to the heart of the matter. "Community workspace" is especially far off. I might be able to see it as meaning that it is both a community and a workspace, but the lexico-grammatical meaning of the phrase seems to indicate that it is exactly what it says: a "community workspace," where "community" is an adjective and "workspace" is a noun. And "community" as an adjective indicating "this workspace is a community" is a very esoteric reading of the word indeed. More likely, it indicates that B&M is a workspace intended for use by the general community, which isn't quite right.

But even if the esoteric reading is correct, and B&M chooses to market themselves as a workspace which is a community, or workspace community, I still think this misses the mark. The library is a workspace community. The University of Idaho is a workspace community. Hell, every single business in America is a workspace community. It just doesn't seem to do the idea justice.

So I propose a new way of thinking about it.

B&M is not just a workspace community, but a specific kind of community. Now I'm going to draw my inspiration from one particular office here. It is a more or less typical office, of course, where a person named Jordan sits down and does his work. But it is not just an arm of B&M; it is an actual business, fully operational and (I assume) independent. A sign sits on the interior office window: "Palouse PC Computer Repair." A sign is a sure sign of independence.

The implication of this business within B&M is that B&M is the kind of place which independent businesses are intended to grow out of. In this way, it's much more like a business incubator than a workspace community. Yet it goes farther, because the full implications of the word "community" remain intact. It is the kind of place where "business incubator" and "workspace community" are fused inextricably together. This entirely new kind of concept, the likes of which I've never seen before, may represent a dramatic shift in the business dynamic of America.

There are three different phrases I've come up with to describe what B&M is. One is, "entrepreneurial bank." It's a bank, not of money, but of entrepreneurial spirit. Collected here at the workspace is a reserve of freelancing, independent, entrepreneurial spirit. See, Moscow is a young person's town, and a lot of college kids live here, many, if not most, of whom have an overabundance of entrepreneurial spirit. Some of that has found its way here, and so what we have is an excess of entrepreneurial spirit, which we then loan out to the world at large.

But the fact that it is gathered here in one place, in one specific building, is significant. It leads me to my next characterization: "non-academic university." In a university, each of the professors is pretty much independent, just like the workers here. Nevertheless, they organize themselves into co-working groups, which do research in teams for the purpose of furthering human knowledge. That is their goal. Strip out the "knowledge" part of that goal and replace it with the more general word "progress," and you basically have B&M—a non-academic university.

But my favorite phrase, because of its currency, involves the most groundbreaking human achievement of our age: the Internet. In this vein, B&M is an "entrepreneurial cloud." Just like Amazon's EC2 is a computing cloud, B&M is a cloud of entrepreneurs. But B&M hasn't yet realized what I believe is a serious groundbreaking prospect for this kind of place. An "entrepreneurial cloud," to be more like a "cloud computing platform," seems to indicate that the community at large here in Moscow, if they so choose, can upload specific limited-time requests to the cloud for the us to perform.

Say, for instance, that the Moscow Arts Commission, a wing of the Moscow City Government, decides they want to make Moscow, Idaho a national hub for the arts—just as, through the U of I's Lionel Hampton Jazz Festival, the city is a national hub for jazz music. What they could do, if our workspace grew big enough, is contact B&M with a request for proposal. B&M then, as a community, could identify each individual entrepreneur or freelancer in the workspace who has any applicable skill, and if they agree to sign on, contract with them to fulfill the goals of the Arts Commission. Once the goals are fulfilled, just like Amazon's cloud computer, B&M will return to its natural state, ready for another project. All further gruntwork, if there is any, would be taken up by a dedicated entity—probably a wing of the Moscow City Government, or the local arts business community, or whatever.

Now this idea in itself is exciting enough. But there is yet another exciting prospect based on a simple fact: B&M is made up not of computers, but of people. And people can actually originate goals, rather than merely fulfill them. It's still like a cloud, but more like a storm cloud, which makes lightening of entrepreneurial inspiration. The end result may perhaps be that Moscow Idaho, or any other city which seriously entertains this approach, will become among the most interesting places on the planet.

As said earlier, this is an entirely new idea. And it has stunning and broad-reaching implications. Like the Internet, it may harken in a completely new era in business. See, on the Internet, there are websites like the afore-mentioned oDesk—cloud-compute inspired businesses. oDesk's innovation is called "homesourcing:" businesses, anywhere in the world, can "homesource" work to any individual anywhere in the world, practically instantly. Thus a budding fashion design shop can quickly assemble a team of customer service agents without setting up a physical call center, for example. One agent may be in India, another may be in Idaho; it doesn't matter because it's all done "on the cloud."

But oDesk is different from B&M. While B&M stresses entrepreneurial spirit, oDesk stresses contracted labor. When you work at oDesk, you are very much working for a boss at a (more or less) established firm. But when you work at B&M, the assumption is, generally, that you are the firm. This isn't a rule, of course; anyone here can work for whomever they choose. But the point is that B&M is a hub for entrepreneurial spirit, whereas oDesk is a platform for contracted labor.

And both companies say something profound about us in the United States. Taken together, oDesk and B&M represent a new way of thinking, a dual modality of American labor. The old way of thinking goes like this: Nathan Foster applies for a job at CostCo. The new way of thinking goes like this: America applies for a job at America. Places like B&M, across the country (and yes, there is more than one place like this), form entrepreneurial ideas, and contract out to places like oDesk. Thus we can all contribute to a vast cloud of "business happenings" everywhere around the world, simultaneously.

That's the vision, anyway. And I believe the new way of thinking, more accurately and concretely than any discourse I've yet seen, expresses the American concept of "honor." Honor, to me, is loyalty plus leadership. And while in the old way of thinking these two were completely separate (i.e. the job applicant has loyalty while the employer has leadership), in this new age each individual can have both qualities simultaneously. A person can simultaneously contract with oDesk and originate ideas in exactly the same space, among exactly the same people. I can come from the cloud, into entrepreneurship, and go back into the cloud, seamlessly. This is the fundamental innovation these two businesses represent, and needless to say, I'm excited about the prospects of both.

Art and Business

In my filing cabinet at home, I have a dollar bill.

It is a special dollar bill. I had it when I was in the mental hospital years ago. When I was in that place, I had only a couple of dollars to my name. And every couple of days the hospital would send around a cart and allow you to give them your money for whatever they had for sale. I decided early on that while I would buy perhaps a couple of items, I would save exactly one dollar and never spend it. The mental hospital took away everything important to me—it took away my freedom, my dreams, my artistic capabilities. I was spiritually broke. I was NOT going to let them make me financially broke as well. So I saved that one dollar bill, and still have it to this day.

A lot of people do things similar to what I did. Businesses everywhere take the first dollar they earn, have it framed, and hang it on their walls. I think we're doing something very interesting when we do this.

See, when I took that dollar and decided not to spend it, I grew the United States economy by exactly one dollar. And now, to me, that dollar bill is worth more than $1. I would not sell it for $1 (or something worth $1)—if I ever do sell it, it will be for more than a dollar.

For me, personally, that dollar has increased my wealth. I can put a measurement on it: Say I'm not willing to let go of the dollar and all it means to me for less than $50. If that's the case, I have increased my personal wealth by exactly $49. And I would have grown the economy. See, when I bought the dollar bill for $1, I grew the economy by $1. The number on my bank account is decreased by $1. When I put the dollar back into circulation, I diminish the economy by $1. But when the other person buys it for $50, it grows the economy by $50, causing a net growth of $49.

Of course, so far, I've talked only about my personal wealth. I, personally, am not willing to sell that dollar for less than $50 (we're assuming). However, the real question is of course whether or not someone else agrees with me. Otherwise, it's ridiculous to say I've grown the economy. I may have grown my own psychological economy, but I haven't grown the U.S. economy. Getting others to agree is a work of art.

By saving this particular dollar, I am making an artistic statement brimming with social commentary. That dollar is fine art. It tells a story involving one man and the mental health system. It gives a moral lesson of patience and frugality. It criticizes systemic exploitation in the psychiatric establishment. It has a happy ending: I left the hospital victorious because I didn't spend it. And it improves the value of the person who buys it: They can hang it on their wall now and share in my triumph against the system. (If they buy my story about it, that is.)

This is why I am somewhat confused that our economy isn't an art-based economy. In fact, people often claim, falsely, that we need to be less "artistic" about our economy and produce more physical things in factories. I can't think of anything more Marxist and further from the truth. When you produce physical things, you're stealing wealth from the Mother Earth and selling it for hardly any more value than it was worth in the first place. This is what China does: the Communist Party extracts wealth from their banks, who extract wealth from the workers, who extract wealth from the Earth. There's no growth, regardless of what the numbers say: it's just exploitation. When you make art, however, whatever you do is nothing but pure added value. If you're an artist, the materials you work with, whatever they are, are worth hardly anything compared to the worth of the final piece of art. China's Communist Party could never allow this, because it gives so much wealth and power to individual artists, when they want all the wealth and power for themselves. So why on Earth is our economy so eager to profit off of stuff other than art while almost completely ignoring this treasure trove of business opportunity?

For whatever reason, we have not developed the infrastructure necessary for an art-based economy. Certain art forms have taken some steps, of course—Western music is based on the accumulation of hundreds of years of deep meditation and hard work. The twelve-tone musical system and our system of musical notation have allowed for extremely complex and rich musical ideas unmatched by any other culture. In music from other cultures, it's rare to find even basic harmony, let alone key changes, because in their musical systems such concepts don't make any sense. They have spent less time developing their musical infrastructure.

Fashion has had a similar experience. (Well, women's fashion at least. Which is why I wear women's clothes so often. Shh.) Before Louis IV, people wore traditional dress which remained unchanged for years. But to increase the glory of the kingdom, I suppose, they began to think of ways to change the fashion of the time. Now, as a result of developments in the fashion art's artistic infrastructure, we have a kind of fashion grammar rich with all kinds of innovative concepts (collars, collar stands, a-line forms, shifts, hour-glass forms, etc.) This rich array of elements in the art's infrastructure is what allows our fashion to be so complex, exciting, and ever-changing.

So in a couple of art forms, some basic infrastructure has been developed. The business infrastructure may also be developed to some extent, but, I would argue, not enough.

Think of the things investors look at before they invest in a business. They look at the psychological characteristics of the CEO. Are they a leader? Do they have drive? Are they motivated? Excited? Do they work well with others? The answers to these questions determine whether or not the company will succeed. They look at the product. Is it something people want? Does it satisfy a need? If they put it on a shelf, will it move? They look at history. Has this person ran successful businesses in the past? Have products like this sold well in the past? They look at the research. Is there concrete, empirical evidence that the product will sell? They also look at the intent. Does the company have a solid plan moving forward? Does this plan take into account incomes and costs? When investors look into these things, in depth, they can gauge how much they and the economy will benefit.

See, when we think of artists, we have this notion that you just go out into the world and be yourself and somehow, unexplainably, end up being brilliant and make tons of money. I think this is nonsense. What is someone buying when they buy your art? If you can't answer that question, I'm sorry, but you shouldn't become an artist. Imagine if we treated businesses this way. "I'm going to be a businessman. I'm going to go out in the world, be myself, and make a business that's brilliant in some unexplainable way, and people will be inspired for some unexplainable reason, and I'll make tons of money." I wouldn't invest in this person, would you?

People don't buy art just because you're so awesome they can't stand not spending their money on you. But I think people tend to think this is how it works. So what we need to do, then, is think less about what art says about the artist, and more about what it says about the person who spends money on it. This means that instead of being subjective, we must be objective. I know... that sounds sacrilegious. But it's true. I make movies as well as music. But I invest more in my movies than my music. Why? Because the people who listen to music want to have a shared experience with their friends and their communities, which usually implies a live performance. And I can't perform my music live. So I know no matter how good the music is, it's never going to sell. The only way it would sell is if it were so popular that a shared experience would be implied regardless of whether or not it's live.

Movies, on the other hand, play a slightly different cultural role. If people wanted a shared experience of film and video, there would've never been such a thing as television, and people wouldn't sit alone in dark rooms at night trancing out in front of it. Yes, I know, there is also radio. But how do people listen to music on the radio? In their cars, with the windows rolled down, and as loud as possible! They obviously want to share their experience! But people who watch television, on the other hand, don't do it with the curtains self-consciously drawn. So I've made a business decision: I'm going to invest in film more than music.

And another thing: I'm not going to even think of distributing my films with a distributor without some kind of business sense about whether or not the stuff would sell. Otherwise, I'm wasting everybody's time.

This is how we artists need to think. We need to think of art as a business, objectively, with detailed numerical measurements of potential for making money. If we do this, we can grow ourselves and the economy. And, by the way, we won't in any way diminish our creativity or value as an artist. Creativity is not measured by how "true to ourselves" we are. It is measured by how inspired the work is. And how inspired the work is is measured by how inspired people are by looking at it. How inspired we are is merely a convenient way of gauging whether it will inspire others. And, by the way, if it inspires others, it'll sell. We need to think about this. If we don't, we're wasting everybody's time.

Nonsense Hollywood Myths Many Don't Bother to Question

Just about everything out of Hollywood sucks, including the things a lot of people agree with. Here's a couple.

1. You always want what you can't have. I've even heard some reasonably intelligent people say this. But this Hollywood "wisdom" is nonsense. Think about it. It implies that there's something about not having something which makes you want it. "I want every sign that says 'slow down' to be repainted as saying 'drive slow.'" "Well, you can't have it." "Ooh, now I REALLY want it." If you really wanted things just because you can't have them, that conversation would make sense. But it doesn't.

   It isn't that you can't have something that makes you want it. We want things because we like something about them. We don't want what we already have simply because it didn't turn out to be all it was cracked up to be. Things are like that. We fantasize about something, and imagine that it will solve all our problems; then when we have it, it doesn't, so we want something else. There's no causal relation between being unable to have something and wanting it. Which brings me to my next point:

2. If you look deep in your heart, the thing you really wanted was what you had to begin with. No place is like home, eh? What if you live in an abusive family? Then do you want what you already have? I think not. In fact, as stated earlier, what you really want is probably what you don't have.

   A better way to state these things is, if you look deep in your heart, you'll discover the truth. This includes truth about your own wants, and whatever you need to make it happen, IF you want something to begin with. See, I think the reason these ideas are formulated this way is because of the concept of want. Hollywood wants to get you to want something. Anything. It's fundamentalist consumerism.

3. There are some things in this world that just can't be explained by logic alone. Of course, if you actually use logic, you'll deconstruct these ideas and realize they're nonsense. As a matter of fact, certain kinds of advertising, like political advertising, have been shown to work best on people who don't go to college, where they teach you logic. Go figure.

   Why then do so many people believe this statement? Because it's a bastardization of the idea that some things can't be explained by deductive logic alone. Actually, NOTHING can be explained by deductive logic alone. To show this, let's look at a deductive argument. Every deductive logical argument is constructed similar to this:

   • Assumption: pigs can't fly.
   • Assumption: Jake is a pig.
     

     ---

   • Conclusion: Jake can't fly.

   What are the first two statements? Assumptions. NOT necessarily deductions. Assumptions can come from other deductive arguments, though they don't have to. (E.g. Jake has four legs, pink skin, short hair and a snout. Every animal with these things is a pig. Therefore, Jake is a pig.) But these other deductive arguments are also based on assumptions. And if these assumptions are based on deductions, those deductions are also based on further assumptions, and so on. So where, aside from deductive logic, do these assumptions come from?

   Inductive logic. Which is simply observation. I've observed that no pig has ever been able to fly in the history of life, therefore it's a reasonable assumption that pigs can't fly.

   So nothing can be explained by deductive logic alone. But, sorry to rain on your parade, everything can be explained through inductive and deductive logic together. Even magic and the occult. Even paranormal activity. If you observe it correctly, that by definition is inductive logic.

Art doesn't have to be a philosophical textbook. But bad art comes from unexamined ideas. And bad art has observable negative consequences, encouraging people to be deluded, chauvinistic, consumerist, racist, perhaps even violent. And there's no reason for it.

Divine Promises—A Terrorist Poem

This is my submission to Meg McLain's "Online Terrorist Keywords" Poetry Contest. Every italicized word is a terrorist keyword.

My wish
Is the execution of every smart body scanner
And though I'm accustomed to watch no other,
To exercise the initiative of my love,
And invite an emergency landing
Beneath the galaxy
Of night.

And in case I collapse
In the explosion
Of emotion
Just recall
That should my avian soul
Speak human to human,
No other power is smart enough
To constrain the gods of skin
That sweat in the memory of your blue
Dress, which we cancelled in our one night.

And should I burst forth
And tremor in the avalanche
Of concealed promises,
Only with you it is not
Such a disaster;
Tempered as it is by the lightening
In your electric eyes.

It is a queer strain of
Cancelled passions
That commonly hail the
Outbreak of lovers' arguments;
But though I'm hostage to your green eyes,
Kidnapped by your home grown idiosyncrasies,
Even a small sigh could bring relief.

My words are but an incident
Of the typhoon that racks
My soul, or the
Organized crime that balks
At the mitigation of reason—
The old standoff spoken of
By the several poets, breaching the secrets
So toxic to every standard dream.

For only in this state of emergency
Is the facility of the starry
Divine unearthed,
Yet it crawls like an infection
And pains me,
My lover of North Korea,
Like a chemical burn.
I am, again,
A sick and wilted rose
Alone, with no vaccine,
Only the narcotics
Of the forgotten pictures
You took in China.

We all ask for
Closure in the extremism of passion,
The target of holy jihad,
Like a worm of never-ending failure or outage,
A calderon that can be tempered
Only in a wave of compassion—
Not an assassination of desires.

My wish
Is the execution of every smart body scanner
And though I'm accustomed to watch no other,
To exercise the initiative of my love,
And invite an emergency landing
Beneath the galaxy
Of night.

Artistic Complexity

If you're an artist trying to strive for complexity, there's a couple of directions you can take. You can have surface complexity, which is simply just a lot of stuff going on. The IDM genre is like this, and I think it's why that genre isn't very popular. It's only complex on the surface. An analogy to rock would be having a drum beat which breaks to do a fill every other measure. After a while it gets old.

Another type of surface complexity is when you do something unique which no one else had thought of before, which requires lots of equipment, or "creativity," or virtuosity. For example, coming up with a new synth hit that has a lot of nuance. Again, I classify this as surface complexity because it's not very interesting. It's just a gimmick. So you've come up with a new thing nobody has done before. Yeah, but is it interesting?

So instead of surface complexity, you could decide to do deep complexity. This is where you inspire complex and interesting thoughts in the art consumer. In music, this requires coming up with an emotional and resonant hook, or chord progression. Unfortunately, however, there are only a few possible chord progressions. And you have to also exclude the chord progressions which are (currently) ineffective at communicating any sort of message.

Deep complexity is more difficult to achieve than surface complexity. And, ironically, deep complexity also goes by another name: "simplicity." Miles Davis required extreme simplicity of his band members. But really, his music is incredibly complex, because it inspires complex emotions and makes a complex musical statement.

Deep complexity is really the last frontier for musicians. It's difficult to achieve, and artists can be satisfied that they will have the opportunity to refine the required skills for the rest of their lives and beyond.

Hyper Crush's Crushstep

I've been listening to Hyper Crush's entire new album for free. Yes, you can do that. Legally. And it's amazing. By which I mean, brilliant. Let me focus on just one song: "Cheap Thrills."

This has all the hallmarks of great literature. It's philosophical and deep, dramatic, inspiring, creative, and entertaining. (And one more: it's addictive. I can't stop listening to it because it blows my mind so much.)

Let me break it down for you.

• Philosophical and deep. It's not just hedonism. It takes a philosophical / political stance. The hero of the song has money on his brain like the rich industrialists. But he still stays positive ("I've made it, yeah, I'm alright") even though overwhelmed by the suffering of the world. He talks of the seven billion people in the world, but (unfortunately) "All we tryin' to do is pop." He takes on a certain role ("I'm hot, I've gotta be") with reluctance, but only because he must to fulfill his face-melting obligations to his fans.
• Dramatic. It involves characters and conflicts. There are two main characters who have inner conflicts and intra- conflicts. The rapper has an inner conflict along the lines I've already described. The female character has an inner conflict too. She "can't even see straight, but I'm on my feet still." She's fighting to stay standing and party positive despite the pull of her inner demons. Also, there's a subtle conflicted relationship between the female and the male. The female is obviously partying (she keeps asking for drinks) and presumably, she's partying to the music performed by the male. She's feeding off of that music, which is an "angel" keeping them both afloat in this "evil world."
• Inspiring. Because the characters triumph over their conflicts, it's inspiring. "But wait," you might say, "They don't triumph. They're still fighting in the end." Yes. And I feel this borrowed trope from the Rave culture is even MORE inspiring. I mean, in literature of the past the heroes had some kind of "final" triumph which ultimately ends all conflicts. But that's not really the way real life works most of the time. In real life, instead of chasing that ultimate triumph, sometimes just the fact you're still standing at the end of the day (or night) is enough. And what makes Rave music so brilliant is that, unlike Rock concerts, it SUSTAINS the party into infinity until the heavens fall into the sea and that final triumph finally comes. In this song, and in real raves, the people are still standing, dancing, all through the life, into eternity. We never stop. We never surrender.
• Creative. To be creative, a song must be both novel and reinforcing. It must have new ideas, and reinforce already established ones. This song adds that novel Hyper Crush flair to an established pop genre: DubStep. (It's not DubStep: it's CrushStep!)
• Entertaining. It doesn't just long endlessly for the sunrise at the end of the night. It makes happiness concrete. This song is the shit. Period. That's what's entertaining about it. I can listen to it and not get lost in the pathos. It's brilliant. (Also the reason why I like Hyper Crush's remix of "Somebody That I Used to Know" by Gotye better than the original.)

There is nothing about this song I don't like. It's one of the most amazing songs I've heard. Listen. You won't be disappointed.

Madonna's New Album

I don't know what happened to Madonna. I was just listening to tracks off her new album MDNA (probably the coolest album name I've heard in a long time, by the way) and it strikes me that she just doesn't get it. She doesn't get Rave music. Or worse: she's just trying to capitalize off it without adding anything.

I mean, don't get me wrong. It's not bad music. I'd rather listen to it than a lot of music out there. But it's just not great. And what gets me is, Madonna used to be great. Her song "Material Girl" is one of my favorite songs of all time. "Vogue"—same thing: positive message, edgy, complex, confidence-building, interesting, entertaining, etc. And her album, Erotica, is not only brilliant music, but brilliant literature. It's great poetry that can stand up to just about anyone in the English literary canon. And I should know: I've studied the stuff seriously.

But MDNA is just not that great. Same thing with the past several of her albums. MDNA features a couple cameos from an artist I really respect: M.I.A. The cameos were stupid and vapid. So how come I still respect M.I.A. but not Madonna? Because M.I.A. makes sense to me. I understand her. She is one of the few pop artists out there who can legitimately say "I just want to put a cap in your ass and take your money." A lot of artists claim they come from the ghetto and are bad boys or bad girls. But M.I.A. came from an INDIAN ghetto. She was a war refugee. Her father was a Tamil Tiger. When M.I.A. does a stupid collaboration (and she does a lot of them) it's not because she's stupid. It's because she's a gangsta popping a cap in the ass of the music industry and taking their money. She's a musical warlord. She makes sense.

But I don't get Madonna. Maybe there's something I'm missing. I feel somewhere along the line she lost it somehow. And I wish she would just find a way to do the brilliant, amazing music that I know she can do. Whether it's because of greed, or if she's in a dark place right now, I don't know. But I don't understand. I wish she would just... come back.