The Era of Great Pain

It is possible that we are entering an era of great pain. This is an era where:

• Every concert is a "recreational activity."
• Every day of work is a "job."
• Every formal learning experience is an "education."
• Every animal is a "pet."
• Every blog post is "self-expression."
• Every tennis match is a "hobby."
• Every computer is a "computer."
• Every piece of food is "food."

Every hallelujah is cold and broken. Every experience is psychological. Every activity is a behavior. And every dissenter is "mentally ill."

Look. Concerts are NOT "recreational activities." They are LIFE. In short, everything is pain. And "living in the moment" has lost all meaning apart from forgetting everything, as though the phrase holds little more promise than recreational drug use.

Work is not a "job." It is LIFE.

Learning experiences are not "education." They are LIFE.

Animals are not "pets." They are LIFE.

Blog posts are not "self-expression." They are LIFE.

Tennis matches are not "hobbies." They are LIFE.

Computers are not "computers." They are LIFE.

Food is not "food." It is LIFE.

We cannot go on as though everything is meaningless. We simply can't continue as a species if everything is trivial and forgettable. NO. Every experience should be profound and meaningful. We MUST take every form of being, doing, experience, and so forth AS SERIOUSLY AS THOUGH OUR LIVES AND THE ETERNAL SALVATION OF OUR SOULS DEPENDED ON IT. When we feel upset, or when we need a little pick-me-up, we cannot simply say, "Recreational activities help pick me up. I should choose a recreational activity that will pick me up. I think I'll go to a concert."

I can't think of any more meaningless thing we could possibly ever think. It is absolutely cynical and wrong. We should NEVER think like that. We should go to a concert because it will ROCK OUR WORLD, or we shouldn't go at all. We should get a job because it will FUNDAMENTALLY IMPACT EVERYTHING, or we shouldn't get a job at all. We should eat food because it will ALLOW US TO COMPLETELY REJUVENATE THE WORLD, or we should eat red-hot balls of iron. There is no excuse. Either you're part of the solution, or you're part of the problem.

If you're part of the problem, you're part of the Great Pain. You'll do nothing but cause everyone around you great pain. If you can't enjoy life, GTFO.

The evil of the machine thrives on insecurity. We feel we have to be "hip enough to be square." But there is NOTHING that makes life more beautiful than insecurity. And if we can't recognize that, then we should demolish all the Universities. We should set fire to all the schools and libraries. We should forbid all scientific and academic inquiry. Because all it will do is make the human race more cynical, more painful, and more evil.

Science is for risk-takers. Knowledge is for risk-takers. Comfort is for risk-takers. Otherwise it is the purest form of curse. And I believe our society is currently cursing itself. I wish EVERYONE would take a moment to LIVE IN THE MOMENT—which, properly understood, means NOT forgetting everything, but THROWING AWAY scientific knowledge, security, money, food, computers, "recreational activities," "jobs," "education," as UTTERLY MEANINGLESS, and living completely in the state where it is possible that the world will DISAPPEAR. That everything you've trained for will DISAPPEAR. That everything you've worked for and earned will DISAPPEAR. And you should live the rest of your life that way.

Ironically, if you don't do that, it would be better if it DID disappear, because all it will cause is Great Pain.

A Note or Two on Yelling at People

A while back I decided to yell at my therapist. We both agreed that a shouting match was the most appropriate thing to do at that time. No, it wasn't one of those sterile, therapist-y agreements—"I want us to try something new. Let's have a shouting match. Don't be afraid; let it all out." We don't do business that way because it doesn't work. My therapist is a straight-up, no bullshit kind of guy. He wanted an emotional response. Well, he got one.

"Nathan," he said, "you just seem to think these psychiatrists all get together and sit around saying, 'Gee, let's see how many people we can hurt and oppress today.' You really think psychiatrists go to medical school for eight years and live on crappy doctors' wages just because they felt like hurting people was a cool thing to do?"

"They don't have to! The entire system is based on fallacious and fundamentally oppressive assumptions. I don't care what kind of person you are, if you believe that people's minds are diseased, you're going to be oppressive! It's the same as saying you're a flawed person!"

"Great. Tell me: when has a psychiatrist ever told you that you're a 'flawed person?'"

"I've been lucky not to have to work with psychiatrists since the mental hospital. But I know people who have. And if people weren't regularly abused like what happened to me, there wouldn't be a consumer survivor movement."

"See? With you it's always 'Oh, I've heard stories.' What about you? I want you to tell me right now, what evidence do YOU have?"

So I told him my story. I told how I went to the doctor for help because I thought I was sick. How he started talking behind my back to my friends and family about how I should probably get on meds. How I started sensing that people were conspiring behind my back. (Because they were.) And how they hit me with, "You have a mental illness. There's something wrong with your mind and it'll never get better. You'll probably live a half life filled with misery and regret, and take these pills which change the way you see the world but don't make anything better. Oh and be sure to talk to your friends and family about it, see what they have to say. That's important, you know."

"So," He said. "You went to a doctor for help, and he gave you help." (Gasp.) "What a surprise."

"How can you call that help??"

"Look, Nathan. It may have hurt. But he did what he thought was in YOUR best interest. But you give him no credit. You think he just did it all because he had some kind of grudge against humanity."

"You know, NAZI's were all ordinary, nice people too. They only became monsters because they were trained that way. Psychiatrists are trained to believe that people—REAL people—can have something FUNDAMENTALLY wrong with them, with their very minds. That's what they believe."

"Tell me, how many years have you been trained in psychiatry?"

No answer.

"Well I have been trained in psychiatry." (He loads a web page about the WRAP program.) "Look at this program that every mental health professional in the State of Idaho is REQUIRED to take."

From there on I was on shaky grounds. I'd never been formally trained in psychiatry, and though I'd heard things about the consumer-directed movement in mainstream psychiatry, I hadn't looked at it much. There was still a thing or two I wanted to say, though.

Emotions were hot, of course, and the fiery exchange went on deep into the night. But there was nothing about the shouting that wasn't congenial and ultimately beneficial. And we concluded with friendly words: about how he liked to see me "all fired up," how angry we never really get, and so on. The point is: it was beneficial. It was positive and wholesome. If I had not decided to get angry, I would've missed the point.

Let me show you something I made:

The execution may not have been the best, but those goddesses are real. They'll come to me, in the middle of the night after a bad day, wrap their beautiful thighs around me, and get right inside my mind.

They're like, "I fucking hate you. You're a terrible person. I wish you would die. You're bad. I hate you. Just die."

They break my neck. They feed me poison and rip my intestines out. They hurt me, and they don't stop.

They're like: "I hate you. Just die. I fucking hate you."

And suddenly, when the world stops, I burst into tears, look her straight in the eyes, and—the love. We cuddle; flowers bloom, babies coo, birds tweedle, and everything's alright.

You know that feeling of grimacing through an unbearably hot sauna then laying down for twenty minutes in 40 degree water, blissed out like you've taken some cocktail of the most amazing drug, only without the addiction or side-effects... kind of like that. Ladies, I'm telling you, it's hard to compete with an experience like this. (Come to think of it, probably shouldn't try either.)

See, in our culture, we're so rational and deliberating and scientific that we forget the heat of emotions. We forget the value of rage and depression, and of tears. I hate it when people say, "Don't cry." Actually I love it, because it makes you cry. The more they say it the more you cry. That's why it's so nice to say. The trick is, don't analyze and deliberate and come to the reasonable conclusion, "She probably doesn't want me to cry. I should stop now." Because tears are the seeds of joy.

I know it's not right to hurt people. I know it's not right to get angry and yell at someone and put them down. But sometimes, if you're extremely careful, it's the best way to show love. If you REALLY love someone, and if you yell at them lovingly, it's like that hot sauna. It opens your pores and all the bad stuff in the world comes out. Then when you cry together, and hug each other, and the birds and the flowers—it's like the cold water. It's bliss. As long as you love, you can't go wrong.

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.

An Urgent Call to Action!

We all know the exploits of our leaders in Washington. You can't read half a paragraph in the papers but find something amiss. For heaven's sake, we don't even need to step beyond our private life or community sphere to find problems: everywhere are angry egos and their petty manifestos. No one is without an opinion, or a "solution." Every day brings a new pill—red ones, blue ones, white ones, round or oblong—and everyone plays the doctor. But these answer-pills all seem like placebos. Where do they come from? I say they come from the herbs cultivated by good men and women who make up the backbone of this country. But the herbs go to waste: they are chopped down faster than they can grow. It is because there are too many pills! There is only one thing to do, which is what we do best: nothing.

Our lives are drenched in freedom: our egos are enslaved by freedom. We have the freedom to buy hamburgers and doughnuts—and many of us don't even need to raise the cows or farm the wheat. We have the freedom to spend money—this is actually quite significant, because not only does this freedom require money to spend, but places to spend it at, and there are plenty. We have the freedom to speak our mind to the general public and not fear a harsh response from the government—Chinese people do not have that freedom. We have the freedom to travel, the freedom to petition, and the freedom to start a business. We have the freedom not to be Muslim. We have the freedom not to be communist. We have the freedom not to be Christian. And, for long stretches of time, most of us have the freedom not to be bothered. That is the most important freedom of all, which is why we should use it. These freedoms have been granted to us by George Washington's seed and by everyone's photosynthesis. The medicinal plant has grown, and it's due time to let the medicine do its work. What wrong can come if no wrong is done? What wrong is done if we do nothing at all?

Some people say, "Write your Senator! Write your Representative!" But congress, like any mature institution, is a rock. It is mineral-rich, and healthy to grow plants on, but in what direction can a senator move without running face-first into a lobbyist? Or a union president? Or an activist? Or the wrongly-motivated part of his own constituency? Congress is a particularly interesting outcropping of solid rock—a geological specimen. A work of nature, which we should preserve and protect against harmful influences. Ask an environmentalist how to preserve and protect specimens of nature: I am sure, at the very least, he will not say, "develop it and build a mansion on it." We should not try to make our congressmen do our bidding—we should not make congress the house of our opinions. They are representatives; why not leave it at that? If you think you can change Washington, go be a congressman. And good luck to you. When you burn yourself out trying to dig up a giant rock, there is only one sensible course of action left: sit down and be another rock. This is something we CAN do.

No matter what the bumper-sticker says on the car in front of us, no matter what the man says on television, no matter what the tractors and bulldozers and chainsaws and men and women in red-orange shirts do to our wilderness, no matter who we trade insults with on our way to the next hard-earned paycheck, the tree of liberty—nay, the ecosystem of liberty—remains the triumphant emblem of our times. It's not going anywhere, but we are. We are always going places. When we sit still, or lie down to sleep, in our minds, we are still going places. It is no good. Since we have the ability to sit still at our convenience, why not use it? Then we can grow our own trees. But we do not do this. Even I have the audacity to write for two and a half hours about how we should stop doing stuff. (Though I assure you, these ideas were formed in stillness.)

So I urgently call upon all of you to summon all your courage, look your enemy straight in the eye, take a deep breath and, do nothing. Everything is perfect! Sit still, be still, and be happy!

Tree of Liberty

The above images are protected under Creative Commons licenses. The first and second images, entitled "Wild Animal Park" by Chris Ingrassia, are protected under an Attribution license. The third image, entitled "IMG_4415.JPG" by Tom Woodward, is protected under an Attribution ShareAlike license.