Radical Distortions Of The Bland

Mono-diodic harmony – fill in the wasted space!?

Hipster Infotania, A Disease of DisThermionics

The Flow Of The Current Is Dead

Decay. Some thing alive, producing waste, consuming taste, eradicating style. It can be seen on every screen, handheld and wall-length. The larger the projection, the more grotesque the faces. By the end of any day, a viewer’s eyes itch with disease – infotainia. Too much information, entertainment and mania for the brain and it’s one unique sense indulging in all the visual trash.

Expressionalism? What is it? A fairy princess of pretend Hipsterville said it once while chatting on art for a photoblog video about ego. There’s a generation in need of decimation, in need of ridicule and jest for it’s disgusting reproduction of statementless fashion, music, art and thought. Dionysian flair can’t be reiterated in such a superficially, obstructed materialism rapidly disintegrating into the steel and plastics it was built upon, and this is just a description of adult film star habitus in the 21st.

Scene! One who has never been a scenester in any or all generations can’t perceive the lack of consciousness it takes to dissociate one’s personality from one’s image. Putting the clothing on, carrying the gear, topping it with accessory – there’s no justification for why it matters to anything other than sex. Are we only looking for sex? Boy on girl, girls on boy, boys on girl, girl on girl, boy on girl on girl on boy with trannies pulling up the rear. Or should I say putting in the rear? MSM, homey!

MUtAtiOn.The feel is ingratiating because the visuals are mutated. We long for mutation of self and body, starting with body while hiding self. The best audio-visual platform to put it into psychological terms is found in David Cronenberg’s Crash and Deftones’ “Passenger”, both about vehicular transport, both about the unification of object with flesh. One by purposeful accident and the other as a bystander. Metal crushing into bones, blood and tissue, pulverizing a perfectly good mind now contained in the darkness of redressed droll.

Oxidation…Given a set amount of years, metal will begin to rust, diminishing in quality, changing in luster from shiny gray to dull red if not continually used or polished. The diminishment is like going from the glorious age of 60 to the 6 foot underground after eating dust. It’s like the spotlight in your 20’s burning out to the steady pace of social decline in your 30’s and 40’s. The body has been pushed beyond repair and the mind recruits the self once again, yet the you who loved you doesn’t come to the table to sign up. Where have we gone?

Abs_en_ce. We’ve either died or given up. In some cases, one leads to the other or the other way around. When the group tabulating taste has died, the scene changes, it evolves. There’s no one left to keep it in place, hence we’ve given up on it. But giving up is the first step toward death. If one has given in, given up, checked out and shown they can’t or won’t victimize their circumstance by continuing headstrong, the solitary option is death. Whatever influence to be had on the scene is extinct. There’s no more electricity conducted from the stylized mind of one to the body and presentation of another. The cathode is dead. The anode is alive. One without the other presents a problem of propagation. The flow of the current is dead.

Husserlian MonoHue

Relative Grandeur

A surviving and thriving beauty surrounded by machinic tekne…

Distorted Sleep is Death

Psyche of the Gaetulian-Numidian Ginsberg

What has always lacked is a confidence in distortion. Sending the message by any means necessary condones ridicule and failure, which is half the battle to be embraced. To be in the flow, even if the words mean nil, is a place of no better easement. Ease into the meant, being the meaning and the message through the medium doesn’t matter to the aortic pumpings of inner psyche carrying outer psyche into the wind.

Instead of asking questions, people are certain. They know, they feel, they act, and often without remorse because they can be forgiven. Mistakes aren’t life threatening to the affluence of crimson certitude. When death rolls through blood and breath, surety lacks understanding of an inevitable misunderstanding. Can we die composed, even if it comes from our own composition?

Suicide isn’t accepted by the majority – hope and faith tend to supersede its rationale in our oh-so-humane descent toward the end. In light of civilized misgivings, the righteousness and personal control is easily summated in all philosophical, theological and physical terms. There’s an excuse to take one away from all.

Excuses are shallow. For most, the excuse is never death itself – kill oneself for death’s sake. There must be a purpose, a reason, a cause. Too many others. No hope in earthly improvement. Inner and outer pain and suffering. Personal control over social enslavement. Just plain exciting. But what of suicide for its own, as an act as common as all else. What entitles an individual human life continuous, a push to be immortal and aged?

At this age, it’s difficult to take a self-threat serious. There isn’t much more to lose than what was involved as a teen. In fact, there’s less to lose, or at least less that matters. But that less means so much more. It’s the meaning and message – to not do for me but for her and them. For me, we should all end the pumping and blowing of psu(c)khe. Our minds tend to suck the life out of what is mistaken and faults we should reflect on and enjoy. The distortion becomes summated as order in chaos. Just give it some time to be solved.

The thesis is to suggest I could be critiqueled and would live without regret or discomfort. I wouldn’t be embarrassed if someone said I sucked. Or blew their nonsense disbelief of my renderings into my face with an infallibly, pretentious stink. Maybe I wouldn’t become defensive and protectionist, for it’s my fault if I don’t compose with the incalculable beauty of Apuleian or Howlish prosody uttered by the likes of Roman Beats knocking on my oak-finished particle-wood doggy-door. I fell in love with the golden ass who was unwavering in his ability to be unique amongst all surrounding him as different. But neither took their lives, only snapshots or wealthy widows.

It can never end. It never feels complete even when it’s over. My life or my art? Mimesis or anti-mimesis? It has become both and every mode of perceptual transference into the right perisylvian zone as to not conjure Wernicke’s aprosodia, a sensory insufficiency on par with the death I merely fantasize will never arrive unless carved by my hand. By my hand, manumitted into the medial artifice of transmission, never to return the psychic circulation to and from the world, but rather solidified in scripted stature as the fate I can’t believe will be me.

It can never end but if it doesn’t, I’ll merely distort wake and fall asleep.

 

The Thick-Rimmed Army

Our instrument of vision is the only ornamental extravagance…

Inner Liberation Through Anarchy III

Coherent Epistemological Archetypes

Episteme is knowledge or science.

Archetype is an original model.

Truth, belief, justification, internality and externality are synecdoche.

The most convoluted, complex and condescending weapon toward liberated consciousness is the very topic at hand. Not only is there a loaded and continual cycle of re-generative semiotics, there is a dilution of human experience and egotistical indulgence in the terminology of knowledge, origin, interpretation and observation, much of which is metonymously counter-intuitive. I feel Bey is addressing telos on predicate, an intellectual expectation forced upon anyone achieving a higher sense of human mentalism. There is an inert rationale of complication, teeming with endless inquiries into “truth”, “belief”, “justification”, “internalization” and “externalization” which can never and have never been appropriated with clarity. We’re asking for too much indoctrination and post-less thought if we enter the realm of meta-rational antimony.

Rather than dissect origins of Indo-European or Afro-Asiatic linguistics in the conceptualization of symbolic learning, it is important to ask why. Though why is also endless, we can ask what for?. What is epistemology for? What are archetypes for? What is hermeneutics for? What is phenomenology for? Many have made a career out of answering such questions, delicately and rambunctiously fitting and slamming divergent explanans into the tedious and eloquent activities of every day. For our epistemological ratiocination, we’ll simply and briefly state the who and what.

Epistemology is the word of knowledge, or the original attempt at developing a mentality of scientific thoroughness. While the term was amalgamated in the 18th century, the need or innate drive and potentiality for communicable truth, belief and justification overwhelmed conversations in ancient Greece. To assume this age as the origin for such discourse neglects the internality-externality inherent in experiencing and reintroducing through transference, of which must have developed in Egyptian, Near Eastern, and Far Eastern cultures and traditional mythical structures hundreds and thousands of years prior. Once a challenge to purely external mind-before-matter functionality occurred – due to both empirically-deduced and rationally-induced causation in human micro-evolution – all subsequent cultural regeneration induced the act of knowing, taking a purely mental endeavor into the realm of praxis.

From such a point emerged a raison d’etre within the thinker’s existenz. Knowing became telos itself, as demonstrated by a personal interpretation of Bey’s ordination, and diverged across many noospheric landscapes. Taking on Babylonian and Roman conquests, Indian and Persian spiritual Empire, disease and seafaring revenge in middle European voyage, and rooted industrial production during the dominance of Western technical allegiance, each ancient and relative epoch clearly influenced the social and individual expectation of fact and fiction via episteme, offering scaffolding and proximation within singular spacetime. Much of the conserved knowledge isn’t useful or vital to a continued conjectural status, but the information intended survival over declarative suppositions. Yet, we’ve taken the inertially-framed verbal spats further than necessary, with their manipulative outcomes usurping clever and witty natural and mental principles. The archetypes are time-tested beyond personal actualities and our minds have been made up for us.

Meaning in Hermeneutic Phenomenology

Phenomena is that which appears, is observable, or is conscious.

Hermeneutics is the messenger, translator or interpreter.

Noema is associated intentionally as the ideal act.

Noesis is associated purposefully as the real act.

During this spatiotemporal process of uncontrollable mental configuration, representational confluence – or conceptual convergence if preferred – of a continual collective thought process was actually wrought with inter-subjective retrieval. Once entered into the person’s sensory-perceptive systems – albeit those with multitudinally-magnified and conserved morphology – experiences of personal and social pliability contextually altered inert symbolism conceptually and neuroanatomically. In this instance, the course of archetypal knowledge developing through phenomena and epi-phenomena became subject to a knowledge underdetermined unless hermeneutically-dissected. Hence we develop such new ideas as those filtered throughout above (existenz, telos…), Husserl’s noema and noesis, and strains of intentionality, Bentham, ontology and a varied argument on the nature of being, of which is the easiest to encounter throughout traditional Western, scholastic philosophy and education. The micro-evolution of human thought crescendoed during the Enlightenment and Victorian eras, only to become materialistically rehearsed in the industrial, technological, information and beta movements we use to interpretatively alienate Now.

It no longer takes a discussion of philosophy to uncover a meaningful epistemological citation for how anarchy can awaken a dreamer’s caustic mirage of utopia. To know, believe, trust or justify in a newly formed conscious-less space takes understanding how much of each comes from thoughtless, feel-fueled self-exposition. One cannot trust another’s symbolism, much less believe archaic, archetypal congruency as a methodology for getting through a day, when the hierarchical nature of personal interactions – much less the strenuous path from birth to cognitive awareness and on to vision-logic – is distantly discordant. We’re so unattached to this level of communicative lexicon as common talk, it’s become irrelevant to minute renderings of anarchic magic and the meta-rationality of achieving rebellion, revolution or reintegrative teleological consideration. One can talk the talk, but walking tends to develop first.

Why there is no anarchy in practice beyond the retro-fitted synonyms of a neoteric industrial and sustainable economy is simply because the comfort level of lifestyle and learning is tangential. There is no talk of hierarchical denigration cast with exploitative memetic for fear of self-deluded grandeur. We cannot delineate between noema and noesis because we simply don’t understand the difference between purpose and intention. Both seek the future rather than letting the experience come to us. Our dilemma in developing a cultural awareness of the need for anarchy and liberated consciousness still lies in the simple pleasures of avoiding pain and loss physically and mentally. We will interpret and observe, standing at a distance while reading a book before we include a potential for being subjective and phenomenal selves. ‘Look from one side to the other but never submit yourself to slur’, as the koan and kudos go.

Next: Teaching Sexual Awareness and Using Pleasure Liberation

Anthropod Lessism

This is my stratum of sinister dexterity. I have been traversing terminology to manumit bloc thought, under which many philosophical movements are classified. Rather than modernism there is postmodernism, and rather than postmodernism there is remodernism, neomodernism, post-postmodernism and lessism – as in the suffix ‘-less’, my choice. As ‘postmodern’ or ‘neomodern’ ideology precedes postmodern or neomodern art, there is now artless. Instead of postmodern or remodern psychology, there is psychologyless. Some find ‘anti-’ a better prefix than a suffix tending to synopsize ideology, but in the tradition of decimation and negation, it‘s necessary to utilize parsimony for the fractured distention of human mentation.

When I set out to theorize existential strata through anarchaos, I failed by listing the strata and eschewing inert dynamics and antimony. Indulgent in self absolutes, simplicity and clarity were enough to encompass the variety of movements within dynamism and contradiction. I was wrong, as I know most thinkers are, and because the thinkers are wrong the doers care less about the words and the layers built –  us deconstructing and analyzing but instead conglomerating and bogging. If what’s presented is to be useful, it can’t limit its own scope. It can’t address logical supposition.

In setting myself apart as anarchist, one sees the uniformity in every hierarchy created by thinkers. There is little above and below other than sky and iron. In between are the strata, weaving and interchanging like rhizomes rather than layers. It is wrong to create a name, to signify a signifier and reduce the modality to language, but it must be done as the precursor to action. The action then taken is the nearest interface to intended meanings of living neoteric manumission and anarchaos.

Sinisterity: Neoteric Manumission is the Birth

When this literal journey began there was a theory. It was an impulse driven by purpose and an expectation for success. What amounted from the years initiated by one night of brief mental insanity was nothing more than the spark, the scratch and the rebirth of a person institutionalized to then’s present. Taking on a bit of hemispheric sinisterity, as right brain logic can be paradoxically parallaxed, the creative urge for a transient freedom via more manual physiology than cortical materialism apportioned itself. The urge to release what was characterized as epistemology overwhelmed conditions and an assumption of arthropod existential activity graced auditory perceptions. The inter-cranial voice was imagined to be from a barely visible Thysanuran with a penchant for all content, substance and dynamic anarchaotics. It simply took over neural pathways of language, logic and sensorimotor integration from reticular consciousness up to cortex vortex. The circularization became as random as the times and spaces Silverfish Firebrat intended to consume. Hence, the anthropod was born.

Dexterity: Esoteric Submission is the Death

In the midst of denaturing the flesh of brain, the lessons of lore decimated themselves, or so thought. From the deep burrowing for continual sustenance, found targets assumed mutual exclusivity to what had been taught in the past. No longer was scholasticism, rationalism and logic a fierce foundation within frontal and parietal cortices – as they were devoured and re-anatomized – but the schematic paradigmatic representations forming an Esoteric-Neoteric or Old World-New World slowly dissipated into vaguely familiar extraditions of traditional intellectual criminality. Don’t call neoteric manumission gone foreign, but the supplication of alternation from esoteric submission through years of rhetoric to a subtle and passionate digression toward living was primally diverse. It is often suggested the only lens with which to look at life proper is through death, and death arrives only by way of a linear passage of age through time. Using such obvious, flat mindspace reeks of dexterous, left brain machinery. The death and submission experienced came from inside out, with a mind dying well before a body re-eidonomized.

Sinisterity: Nature is the Content

From whence such a dirge of content arrived, even nature is uncertain. In our inescapable drive to obstruct each other’s daily movement toward life, the human nature we formed to ascertain advancement clearly convoluted clarity. Physical and mental existences resolve quizzically subtle development of human animality as it diverges toward reconvergence within the containment of diversified primitiveness. Whether blasphemed as too archaic and simple, or sublimated free from ferocity, nature’s content no longer resembles a full cephalic process. What inordinately supersedes such a loss of cosmic balance in metabolic functionality of homeostatic, earthly perturbations is the one who can invade a macro-organism. Our defiled nature represents what extinction began as a deeply neurotic and repetitively usurping collection of unbeknownsts, and the pattern necessary for reverse revolution mimicking microscopic visions. All it takes is digging Dipluran insect activity, much less the triad of Thysanuran venture, to bring the gates of earthly paradise crashing to its intended, sudden sinisterity. Without so much as knowledgeable biological predetermination, Silverfish Firebrat was able to discord brain circuits and networks for what is only the sustenance of natural nourishment. What is the content but to eat to survive, which in turn will shelter us from even the most severe decimation of our known population?

Dexterity: Human is the Expression

While nature and content are what adheres externally, our human expression seeps through the space they are unable to fill. Humanity has determined itself as the precedent for its own self-awareness, and it is true, we are only aware of ourselves. That self must be contained and protected so when the invasion of oikos is attempted by a creature we sense, we innovate progress. During the course of continued survival, the corrosion of compliance leads us to differentiate from intra-specificity. In that progress, the expression we assume to be nouveau, avant-garde or remodern has no relation to the truly unique distancing we’ve done without perceptual recognition of inhumane interpretations. Lost is too clueless, but the strain of separation is just that spatial. The severity of lapse assumes complexity and several stop-points for bifurcation and chaos flow with non-linear visualizations. Even the most unbound of artists or craftsmen fail to realize subsequence, with predictor modeling as a punchline to a joke revealing itself when bristletails were formed. The moment was not time, but is the constant expression of a magnified humanity lost in what’s happening, not what is.

Sinisterity: Chaos is the Substance

The mixture of organic compliments struggles to present itself through human expressions. In doing so, we’ve made dire attempts to organize, philosophize, articulate, model and gesticulate the perfection of golden languages, ideas, ratios, schemas and crafts taking us out of natural content and into material form. The movement from content – a wholly creative realization of actualization – to form also enables those intermediary – expression and substance – to be convoluted in absentia. Expression is unnecessary because of its subjectivity, and substance is avoided or unseen. The simple, relative truth remains that was is unavoidably seen can be and is chaos. It is the linearless projection from which all gold is alchemized and atomized into verbiaged condescension. In the middle state of substance, which is base fundamental, lies spatially neutral outbursts of congregation as in content, purpose as in expression, and gestalt as in form. What lingers in the outskirts is the energy to bear chaos as something wholly productive, wholly creative and nothing but righteous, sans literally confused irony.

Dexterity: Material is the Form

The disease amounts to this: material as the singularity of form. We’ve run amok, cleverly coaxing objectivity as the solitary means of human expression and substance manipulation. We think Silverfish Firebrat as material. We think the ear it enters as material. We think the tympanum, ossicles and cochlea it breaches as materials of hearing, which isn’t part of us but something we use to build ourselves. We think the brain tissue it slowly survives on as material to encompass the object existence undenied. Soon the thinking we do to assume form and material are eaten and decimated into quick bleeps of information not quite coherent enough to be complete because they remain strata unconscious, wholly unaware via dexterous retention of what is done and not what is. The relationships unseen result in a substantive content of emergence extracted from the bioentomological form expressed via human creation alone. Rapture as eureka supplants ignorance as euphoria.

Sinisterity: Feeling is the Dynamic

In this rapturous seizure of arthropod transition, sense is removed in its various faculties. No longer do we visualize and audit, or texturize and odorize as order for understanding the movement as bloc and intention of structure. Negateless and feel the completion! A fusion of creative interpretations from sinisterity, and mandatory impulse control from dexterity, is met – a match to the birth! In obvious recollection of fight to the death and competition-driven expression and form, the natural, chaotic feeling of substance accepted and content derived enables minutiae not mass. Take care to feel unattended! because the networks of axial potentials have been ionically altered for arthropodian consumption. One bug’s excitable entertainment is another human’s illogical transition from darkest objective death to lightest injected birth. The words don’t delineate meaning when their linearity is separated by misgivings of binary dashes rather than rhizomatic continuity felt from the fleshy depths of bristletail detection.

Dexterity: Spirit is the Attraction

Humans look for the ethereal connection, to a place high above or deep within the eyes of cohorts. We tend to feelings as something reciprocated, and obfuscate sense as registration of existence rather than antimonous mereology. The parts do not exist paradoxically-speaking, only enticing our interest and energy, surging us forward rheotaxically toward the edge of metaphysical and actual experiences. For, how can we find what we’re looking for if we have to make it up as we go? But that is the deterrent and integrator of endurant and perdurant, or substance and chaos, in-between death and birth. Digging deeper to face neurotic near-collapse and demented discourse beyond spiritual comprehension means Silverfish Firebrat is getting close to satiated resolution. If one understands any, then we’ve all been driven to craze by a simple epiphenomenon soon to be discovered for its unique implore as a discrete axiomatic schemata for anthropod development. Less is definitely more when finding a simple path to anarchaosless.

The conclusion is simple – a strata of dexterous sinisterity. It refrains from order and firm understanding. It insinuates fun and creativity. It outlines stratum relations within only four magnitudes, asking one only feel so far and not too deep. There is no summation, only the necessary loss and confusion americanhardmind alludes to. If the passion and allegiance persists, reassurance is truly subordinated to obvious interdependence without request. We are here for each other because they stay effortlessly aware of what we cannot.