Four Aphorisms

by the Sorcerer u/IAmFaircod

*1*

I went to the gym tonight. I was high on Baked Bros (R) Happy(TM), 10mg.
I was using my body to manipulate the relative weight and position of fluted metal bars and balls.

I was straining my neck muscles, my calves and pelvic floor when a thought came on me:
At the gym, we are not yet fully out of the minds of our cars.

Rather, we enact optimization rituals ritualistically sacralizing the rites of passage between ass and eyes.
It is to be understood by all travelers: someone probably looks at me in this light.

Someone probably likes the way I swing my hips when I go up and down like this.
I am only guessing. I will never act assuming this as knowledge; it's just fancy.

But my heart swung with some close stranger's presence down peripheries;
It didn't mean talk to that person, suffering there in beauty, oh but no, only to God.

And God sayed to me, look at her once, and if she's looking at you, look down.
When you go on to the treadmill in the corner, guilty to be alone,

And when the shades of shapes wonderful to be walked on watch on,
When you look up once and are guilty both of you to both be and behold, well:

Then you are both of you then the patients of the same disease.

*2*

I am an unfortunately gifted young person. I will admit this to no one who goes here:
I mustn’t let anyone ruin my cinema. We wait way too long between REM tales &

I’m afraid there’s a logic gate on the horizon.
Intellects of ourselves, stored in our bodies like plasma, roam the intensifying range.

The faint echoes of past lives stack the risen spires of Canyon Grand.
I am ignored by my troop, I am made small in the pack;

I grip my soul in my dark; it’s become frail.
It’s floppy.

*3*

I wrote this when I was completely buck naked in the bathtub at this house I’m staying at.
I say all that to plug my butthole and shut yours the fuck up.

I say all that to be a vehicle for a mighty-foreign discourse: I say this to propose
We’re running discourse like a guild of extremely specialized & gifted magic-seers.

And we ought to be running it like a pirate radio station.

Let me explain:

Sorcery as a term, being pride of place being the first word in our name, r/sorceryofthespectacle;
Being in this wise a species of sigil, heritable trait for any venturer who dares waste hours in this despicable hog-heap!*1

Sorcery, if it is to be/mean something to me, at any rate, means something about being canny to a mystical, true aspect of all being, all entities. Meaning that sorcerers, if these we are, are cunning fellowtravelers to a common method of vehicularity:

We live for, or by, or otherwise off the crude vehicular means, but we do so with courage and with awareness of the great scourge of suffering this life is.

I, for example, take solace inside a house tonight, sort of bleeding these inky worthies into entropy, erm, or I mean, existence.*2

And so I now will read, as the next allegory, what I wrote in the bathtub earlier.

*4*

I mustn’t let anyone ruin my cinema–

(Tell me, you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,
And yet I’ve not seen you before this.

How is it you’ve been so invisible
for all these years?

[And handsomeness is a way through the soul,
picoscale laser-decision theory of “how insides-of-the-vehicle may become outside-the-vehicle.”

He’d like to live in a show,
Faircod. *3.

*1. This being of course an allusion to George Orwell’s uncanny text of the authoritarian counter-revolution, Animal Farm, in which farmyard pigs are depicted reenacting the allegory of Bolshevik revolution and its contradictions. In just this wise, might we say, is it not true that we are sufferers and partakers in the instruments of our very own misfortune? As residents, perhaps, more conscious than most that we live in hell. This being a mighty strange and unfortunately plausible drama to inherit, is it not?

*2. In this case, entropy would be a better term to describe the environment into which one of us might throw a loose pile of words into oblivion from this place. The clod of loose mud and wet turf will eventually fall out and reinter behind several separate time-doors.

*3. Theory of the case: this struck the person behind the OP in the moment like lightning. Such direct encounters with the musical (muse-related) epiphany toward gnosis are, when encoded via poesis, basically the same thing as literary vehicles: empty vessels through which you may expand, expose. I have been feeling and witnessing myself being extremely vain recently, unable to stop thinking about my physical appearance in this never-ending effort to attract attractive mates. This is a consuming lust, this a base, worthless passion. This post, indeed, is a rational attempt to regenerate the organism behind Faircod. It is a spiney grub.

** Poll question is about which line from the poem poses the worthiest question. **

View Poll

Gateway tapes

CORE Program (WMC) CORENode v1.2

Guided Breath Meditation

Your First Hypnosis 💋💄- Sissy Affirmations Training

Description: these are all long form audio recordings and compositions in the "hypnotic instruction" genre. They are all presented as leader-follower, employing various health, emotional, and psychological effects. They have various affiliations and some are more cultlike than others. For example, the CIA hosts gateway content, which can be interpreted as an endorsement of the gateway tapes. [1] [2] The guided breath meditation records the voice of Ajaan Geoff, a Theravada buddhist abbot at Wat Forest Metta monastery in Valley Center, California, and his evening dharma talks are posted on the website and on youtube. [3] [4] The sissy affirmations training is a YouTube original. The Buddhist monastery and organization behind sissy affirmations training both accept donations. Both CORE program has a website and tumblr but is not accepting donations. [5] [6] Gateway tapes can be purchased by following a link contained in the START HERE !!! sticky in the /r/gatewaytapes subreddit. [7]

[1] https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/cia-rdp96-00788r001700210016-5.pdf Analysis and Assessment of Gateway Process

[2] https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP96-00788R001700270006-0.pdf The Gateway Program

[3] https://www.watmetta.org Metta Forest Monastery

[4] https://www.dhammatalks.org/audio/evening/ Evening Dharma Talks and https://www.youtube.com/@DhammatalksOrg Dhamma Talks by Thanissaro Bhikkhu

[5] https://core-wintermute.network/coreguide/ CORE Guide

[6] https://thecoreprogram.tumblr.com/post/165798985984/core-program-v11-write-to-program-corecore CORE PROGRAM v1.1

[7] https://old.reddit.com/r/gatewaytapes/comments/19aiyu4/start_here/ Gateway tapes subreddit "START HERE !!!" sticky

Edit: I've decided to add Algy Pug's rendition of The Kybalion: A Study of the Hermetic Philosophy of Ancient Egypt and Greece. The Kybalion is affiliated with Hermetic alchemy and philosophy, Freemasonry, and Ancient Mystical Order Rosae Crucis. (By the way, the Illuminati, which inspired Steve Jackson's Illuminati: New World Order, was formed as a reaction to Freemasonry). Unlike the previous four, The Kybalion is presented as a teacher-student teaching rather than a leader-follower instruction.

Something strange and unsettling happened today, and I need some advice. Here's what went down:

An old sage, who I had seen begging for alms at my shop earlier, left a clay lamp (diya) outside my home. The eerie part? He seemed to magically make the lamp full of milk appear out of air using his stick. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if it weren’t for the fact that my CCTV camera recorded the whole thing.

The sage only asked for alms at my shop, not my home, and the timing suggests he walked straight from my shop to my house without stopping anywhere else. It feels like my home was his target. I threw away the diya without thinking much, but now I’m worried—could this be black magic or something else harmful?

I’m not usually superstitious, but the whole situation feels odd, and I can’t shake the uneasy feeling. Has anyone experienced anything similar? What should I do next? Should I consult someone (like a priest or a spiritual advisor), or am I overthinking this?

Any advice would be greatly appreciated.

[Note: this is a prequel to the extra short story Planet Z]

I was wandering near the waterfront, by some trees and grass. There was a path here that wound around and branched off, looping back on itself in a criss-cross tangle; I could go off the path, too, treading on dirt and leaves. Sunlight shone through the leaves of the trees, a slight breeze moved the branches and boughs gracefully in a meditative fashion. I focused on my breathing; the air was mostly clear, with the nearby river filtering the air pollution from the cars passing a few hundred feet away. With no people around, I fell into a trancelike state, lifted up as if a change in the density of my body had produced the effect, clearing my senses and providing me with a greater view, an expanded horizon.

Perceiving now tiny, insignificant motes swirling around like dust, illuminated by the sunlight as if rays were poking through gaps and openings in a dark room, but there was no darkness, only quiet and stillness. Now a cave imposed itself, my body seemingly transported to a new realm, glowing energy crystals humming and pulsating like beacons, but no mere mechanical artifice: the rocks were alive! Feeling their warmth, my body instinctively relaxed, and I fell asleep.

I had a dream that I was wandering around the inside of a large hotel with conference rooms. There were plants and trees, a stream, even frogs and an embankment. Looking around, I could see that my setting had changed, and I was now in a rainforest. I reached out to touch a frog, and it turned into a button on a mainframe console. I was now typing commands into the console, for what purpose, I could not say. yet the power I had over the hardware had a fluid ecstasy about it, as if the purpose were alchemical and sorcerous rather than computational in nature. Hearing beeps and clicks, it reminded me of the rapid and sure transmission of a message by telegraph key. It was buzzing with commotion and excitement. Now sinking into a meditative back-and-forth, submitting data and waiting, alert, for the result, reading it, there was still no sense about it, the cognitive effort must've been a load taken elsewhere, outside my consciousness.

Edit: I give credit for inspiration where it is due. [1] [2]

[1] http://www.eldritchdark.com/writings/short-stories/61/the-empire-of-the-necromancers The Empire of the Necromancers

[2] http://www.eldritchdark.com/writings/short-stories/183/the-return-of-the-sorcerer The Return of the Sorcerer

Edit 2: pasting part 2 here as an edit to this OP, which was originally its own OP

The setting changed, and instead of typing commands at a mainframe console, I was playing MYST while piloting a spacecraft. All feelings of dissociation or derealization dissipated. I could let the autopilot make minor course corrections while immersing myself in the game world. A few times a minute my eyes would flick back to the window and console, but mostly my attention was absorbed in collecting clues, listening, and trying to find objects and passageways to click on. I had actually beaten the game years ago, but my memory was hazy, and it presented a fresh challenge this time around. I found the 3DCG from the era cheap and tawdry yet oddly nostalgic.

Now the ship's console demanded my attention. "What is it this time?" I intoned.

"Unknown craft approaching off starboard bow." the ship's computer replied.

"Open a hailing frequency." I commanded. "Let's see what they want."

The ship's communication system sprang to life, and I heard the frequency negotiation clicks and beeps make the connection. When the channel opened, I could hear the deep voice of an older man. "Hello? Got a light?"

I smiled. Three parsecs outside the solar system and this guy forgot his cigarette lighter. "Yeah I've got a light, you're cleared to dock. I'll transmit the clearance code for port C, it's about a dozen yards away from the left main thruster."

"You're a peach." I keyed in the relevant command to the console, then hit the enter key. A few moments later, I could hear his ship's computer receive the transmission. "Got it, preparing to dock."

I got up from the captain's chair and went over to the window to get a look at his craft. It was much smaller than mine, with all sorts of neon running around it. I wondered for a second if this guy was an ecstasy dealer, but it made no difference regardless. I fished around in my pocket for a disposable lighter. I had a half dozen of them, and I could spare the one in my hand, but I didn't want to give off the impression that I could be easily exploited.

A few moments later the port door opened and a fat, stinking hippie held out his hand. I raised the lighter and flicked it on, he awkwardly extended his neck and head to put the tip of his cigarette to the flame. It struck me as odd that he was dependent on the largesse of others simply to maintain his smoking habit, but then again, I couldn't blame him, either.

After a few puffs he smiled and reached out to give me a hug. I obliged. "Thanks" he said. After a few more puffs, he continued, "What brings you out here? There's plenty of vermin and trash out here, most of them are my friends." He smiled and took the cigarette out of his mouth.

"I'm working for Interstellar Advantage taking medical supplies to Antares III. As soon as they can provision a freighter, I'll probably find work in Saturn's outer rim. But all of the freighters have been used up hauling weapons to fight the Xinsecho terrorists. They're extremely brave but surprisingly stupid. I'm sure a Coalition victory will be worked out by the end of the month."

This news appeared to give the old man pause. He was silent, then took a long drag on the cigarette. "Well, seeing as you've got a humanitarian bone in your body, I might as well inform you of the sort of work I do." Truthfully, it was plain that, given the bright colors of his tie-dye t-shirt, he was an LSD dealer.

His t-shirt was louder than his voice, so I responded non-verbally by raising my hands slightly in a "woah there" motion, palms toward his chest, pushing the air back and forth a bit. However, I couldn't help but crack a smile. I knew many intellectuals and artists on Antares III, and I had even spent a few drunken nights with some of them high on mushrooms and marijuana.

I was starting to chuckle, this guy knew his business pretty well. "Ah, well, I've got the buyers, that's for sure." I let my eyes wander askance. "Alright, can I have a blotter sheet with 100 doses for $300?"

"You can have it for $50." He smiled. I wondered if this man had many ways to make payments or was enough of a character that he could live by begging and bartering, and sometimes using some information to grease the transactions.

"That deal works for me" I said. I reached for my pocket, but the old man grabbed my arm.

"Hold on, I've got something for you." He raised up a glowing crystal talisman pendant he wore around his neck with a thin silver colored cord. I looked at it. As I did so, I could sense a vapor swirling within the crystal. I blinked, and intuitively it became apparent to me that the old man wanted to get me high and introduce me to some of his female friends, undoubtedly prostitutes. It dawned on me now that I was the real currency he was after, and he wanted an extra man to babysit the girls, who didn't belong to anybody, but I was pretty sure they wanted to belong to someone.

It was now becoming apparent to me that the man thought I might be able to help him in this regard, yet I would have to adhere to a high moral standard to tolerate the company of his girls. It was a challenge and opportunity he had in store for me, and I realized, of course, that the light was just a way to crack open a conversation he wanted to start.

I took a few deep breaths and internalized the virtual conversation transmission that had just occurred. "Where do you get one of those crystal talismans, if I may be so bold?" I asked. The man guffawed, wheezed, and cried a little.

"Is that what you want to know?" Clearly his histamine system was acting up. It was as if I had told the funniest joke he had ever heard in his life. Truthfully, I had seen such talismans before, but in recollection, I had always been high as a kite when one was presented to me, and now those memories started to illuminate themselves and become present in my mind. I could feel a deep sense of relaxation and comfort as my various recollections bent, twisted, and recombined into a new megamemory like Voltron's parts assembling. I wondered now if my question was playing tricks on his mind, and if his reaction were not a product of a similar such alchemy.

"Is that what you want to know?" He repeated, guffawing, quite obnoxiously now, bits of spittle spraying my Skizohed shirt. Finally, he caught his breath and sat down on a beanbag in his ship, right next to the port. He took a few deep breaths. I wondered if my trajectory were taking him from his destination, but then I recalled my hypothesis that I was the goods he was after.

"I would tell you, but I'm surprised you haven't found the answer yourself." It was quite obvious now, that I put my mind to it, that the crystals were controlled by a secret society, possibly involved with organized crime.

"Oh, nevermind. Do you think the girls will like me?" I asked.

"Like you? LIKE you?" His fit of laughter returned with a vengeance. It now took the better part of a minute for him to calm down, and my mood was elevated to soaring heights along with his. I couldn't even remember the details of the run at that point, or when I was due to deliver the goods. Feeling the warmth, his warmth, and the long arm of whatever organization controlled the energy crystals, no mere material concern could touch it.

"They'll love you." He looked me straight in the eyes. "But that's not the main concern. I'm getting on in years, and, well," The possibility that the aging hippie wanted me to impregnate at least one of his womenfolk passed over me like an ocean wave. I gulped.

"Oh my gosh," I said instinctively, looking down.

"Yes." He took another drag on his cigarette. "That." There was a finality in his tone, as if had just spit out something that had been bothering him. Now his eyes were now filled with love and admiration, as if he had cleared the most difficult part of what he wanted to communicate to me. He gave a big sigh and looked at the ceiling. "I would do the deed myself, but you see, a newborn deserves a father with a full life ahead of him, and, well, I'm getting on in years, and you're doing the right thing," his words trailing off, his eyes gauzy, recalling memories.

I could only stand there, stunned, looking at the man. Clearly he was involved with a duty to community and was sensitive to those willing to serve a noble cause. I wasn't just flattered; I was overjoyed at the prospect of being called to serve, even as babysitter to some whores and their kids, my kids. It was almost too obvious that the old man wanted me to come aboard his ship and smoke a bowl, but all of that in good time. I had some filet mignon and caviar in the ship's pantry, and now seemed as good a time as any to enjoy a feast. I could hear a dog bark from somewhere around the corner, inside his ship.

[Edit: the story continues here, in the form of some informal notes I've made]

Narr Ator gets talked into a mission against some shadowy organization, possibly related to warfare between secret societies, he flies a craft stolen from Martian special ops to a secure location near a secret base on Europa, which he has been tasked with spying on for one of the hippie's whores, who happens to be a spy herself, for whom, it isn't clear. En route, he encounters a freighter, and, using a special device provided by the whore-spy, he is able to scan the payload, which happens to be tons of energy crystals being transported as slaves.

It now becomes clear to Narr Ator that the organization he is spying on is involved with the energy crystal slave trade, and that the energy crystals themselves have a will of their own, but they are taken from their native habitat, enslaved, and sold off. He realizes now that this is a crime against the energy crystals, an act of cruelty against a living being, but the energy crystals appear to have no way to defend themselves save by infiltrating the mind of a human, which they are forbidden to do, and possessing the host, considered a crime against humanity, for which an offending energy crystal is punished with death/shattering.

Narr Ator surmises that the energy crystals breed aseuxally, like mushrooms and other fungi, and he wonders offhand if the energy crystals are actually like a Cordyceps fungus that have evolved speciffically to kill off human beings, just as Cordyceps fungi evolve to kill off species of insects that grow so numerous they threaten their own habitat's ecosystem.

All of this is telepathically transmitted to him when he scans the freighter's cargo. Narr Ator surmises that the energy crystals have some natural telepathic mind-reading and mind-control capabilities, but that their natural power can be harnessed and controlled by some human beings nonetheless, who are immune to their telepathic mental influence. If his hypotheses are correct, this would mean that human beings and the energy crystals are in a host-parasite coevolution relationship.

Narr Ator now wonders what sort of power can intimidate the minds of the energy crystals and rule over them, and he hypothesizes that a court of justice has been set up to rule over the energy crystals and instill in them the fear of judgement. Now, following the lines of his reasoning through to their conclusion, he realizes that the growth of the human population was originally controlled by the energy crystals, naturally, and that the energy crystals were a parasite infesting human hosts, but that the court system designed to control the power of the energy crystals has moderated their influence over the aeons, suggesting some hypothesized moment in the remote past, when resistance to the periodic catastrophic decline of the human population, brought about when the energy crystals sense that human beings have grown too numerous, thereby threatening the biodiversity of the human habitat, became a cause to organize the court of justice that rules over the energy crystal mind.

Shocked, Narr Ator realizes that he has been called to investigate control over both the rate of human evolution and the size of the human population, as well as the history of such control.

[Inspiration: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XuKjBIBBAL8 "Cordyceps: attack of the killer fungi - Planet Earth Attenborough BBC wildlife"]

The banonization (canonization + ban) is a sacred rite by which the scapegoats of this subreddit are formally recognized as such, to prevent us from haphazardly and accidentally (unconsciously) scapegoating.

There have been three banonizations in the past. Each was a situation in which I felt my hand was forced, either by strong community opinion, or for legal considerations.

Each banonization acts as a codification of the subreddit's values, and I embrace this function as an expression of the Sybil System (watch Psycho-Pass, don't spoil it). By being conscious and specific about why we banonized someone, we can improve the articulation of the subreddit's values and social boundaries. This develops the image of the community.

A few handfuls of people have been banned over the years for simple insults or interpersonal abuse; spammers and people posting commercial content are also banned unceremoniously. These figures are not banon, because the decision to ban them was easy and not problematic, and more or less universally accepted.

The banonized individuals are the real troublemakers. The individuals who take a position that dialectically challenges the current discourse of the subreddit. I believe in free speech and open debate, but there is a real limit to how much a particular discourse can take in and still remain true to itself. Discovering these limits teaches us about the purpose, meaning, and conceptual boundaries of what it is we are all gathering here to think and talk about.

I have an excellent example of such group dilution: The DKMU group on Facebook. The Dark Knight Marauders Underground was a chaos magick group on Facebook. Followers of their own chaos magick egregore named Ellis, they invented and popularized the LS sigil. However—as I learned from /u/AciaMeriPens—the group became polluted by various "non-chaos energies". That is, Khaos is a specific energy, vibe, or pattern, and too many people were bringing in energies that were not Khaos. A hodgepodge of all energies is not simply Khaos; Khaos is a particular roiling and constructive pattern (it is not boring, or depressing, etc.). The result of this was the gradual dissolving of the Ellis egregore, as she fused into the more generic and universal Eris archetype. In other words, that group lost its particular character, its instantiated group-identity and culture.

So, it's important to for a group to know what it is, and one of the easiest and most pointed and ratchety ways for this to happen is for the group to come to know what it isn't. So without further ado, let's review the history of banonized individuals on /r/sorceryofthespectacle:

• Eris Omniquery / Aminom Marvin, a gifted videographer, was banonized long ago for intentionally trolling the dialectics of the subreddit. That alone wouldn't have been a problem, but Eris trolled by spamming with low-quality posts, grandiose narratives in all caps, and by insulting those who disagreed. Eris returned to the subreddit a few times and each time was eventually banned again for the same reasons. The value: All enlightenment is equal in quality and rank. We are all messiahs here, not one messiah above others.

• Humon1902 was banonized for trolling and explicit threats, but this was later overturned after we talked it out. (The ban was part of the dialectical process in reestablishing communication.) The value: Don't make threats to other users.

• Finally, during the subreddit shutdown a year ago, I angrily banned Impassionata after he said he was going to go start his own "Sorcery of the Spectacle" forum. In order to defend the mark I was forced to take some kind of action, and I took the opportunity to ban him. Impassionata was also pretty explicit about the fact that he was trying to colonize everyone else's perspective with their objective truth, hates post-structuralism, and doesn't seem interested in occultism either (the two topics of this subreddit). So I was very weary of him passing off his patriarchal authoritarian structuralist perspective as if it were not only on-topic, but the only correct perspective. (I can't find the comment where he got banned but I will link it someone finds it.) The values: 1) Post-structuralism + the occult is a good and interesting combination 2) Entertaining multiple perspectives for realsies in good faith is essential for meaningful debate. 3) Nobody speaks for everybody or infallibly knows the right answer (except those in the midst of divinely inspired ecstasy). 4) Interpersonal abuse is not an argument but rather a sign of bad faith or ideological impotence.

Those values again are:

1. Amity: Don't make threats to other users.

2. Civility: Interpersonal abuse is not an argument but rather a sign of bad faith or ideological impotence.

3. Equality: All enlightenment is equal in quality and rank. We are all messiahs here, not one messiah above others.

4. Topicality: Post-structuralism + the occult is a good and interesting combination.

5. Plurality: Entertaining multiple perspectives for realsies in good faith is essential for meaningful debate.

6. Fallibility: Nobody speaks for everybody or infallibly knows the right answer (except those in the midst of divinely inspired ecstasy).

I hope this post has provided context and transparency for anyone who hasn't before heard this history.

Humans are human

Humans are not selves

Selves are fictitious humans

Fictitious humans are people

People are not humans

Humans are human

It's a massist simulacrum of a community driven by a visible cadre of most-active-users. These most-active-users do not generally interact interpersonally with each other, but participate in an alienated arms-length fashion via projective identification with the image of the community as a whole. This image is "the Subreddit", or, via synechdoche, the image of "The King (and his Subjects/Peons)".

I mean, it's not like it's a room you can go to or something and hang out. You won't see me there! That's Abraham Lincoln.

j/k it's an anime for angsty Japanese teens that also works for American / Western audiences; the angels are a completely original thematic element with no basis in historical fact, and the name "Adam" is just coincidentally the same as the male half of the original couple, Adam and Eve, I mean it's a common name in the West

...and Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind is totally speculative fantasy / science fiction incorporating no genuine historical content whatsoever

same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same same

Taking direct corrective action is a form of self-defense. For example, assuming this guy had some kind of contract, agreement, or common-decency expectation that he would be flown home at the end of his work, he should be able to steal a plane ticket's worth of value from that company without consequence—the law should side with him.

Ordinarily, when someone breaks the law, everybody else is still expected to follow the law as they control and punish the lawbreaker. For example, if a cop pulls you over and wrongfully arrests you, you are still required to submit to being arrested, or it will be called "resisting arrest"—even if it gets proved to be a wrongful arrest, later. "Two wrongs don't make a right" is the rule—even when blatant oppression is occurring.

The only people this doesn't apply to is cops. Cops can speed to enforce the speed limit. Cops can murder if they deem it appropriate. The Company is Always Right.

If that guy mentioned above tried to steal a plane ticket's worth of value from the company, they would call the police and he would be put in jail for theft, even though it is the company who is stealing a plane ticket from him. It's always about who is the already-in-charge hegemonic institution. The Institution means everything; an individual is always crucified before the Company takes one penny of loss.

I authorize any and all direct action against persons who would use either officiality or equality to put themselves above you. Put narcissistic and authoritarian people in their place. Punch back and punch up! Only through joyful brawling will anything change; the truth will out!

When I awoke, I was in a dark cavern, the only lights were glowing stones and crystals jutting from the ground, six, eight, ten feet high. I could hear a humming drone sound, the stones and crystals were vibrating. Each one had a distinct frequency, and some of them played chords. In fact, as I approached one, I detected a pulsating tremolo effect, and it glowed in unison with the pulsating vibration. I touched it, and I had to take my hand away fast because I was so startled, like an electric shock discharged at the moment of contact.

However, this was impression only, the glowing crystal or rock did not actually discharge electricity, but something else entirely overcame my ordinary senses, and my entire body flooded with the ecstasy of knowledge. Like a mushroom, this being, in such form, demanded supreme domination over my mind.

I was astonished; no peer of mine, it perceived me as a threat! Hastily, I scuttled away, only to become close to another outcropping of the rock crystal tree mushrooms. It was not their appearance that suggested life, but the experience the one had given me. Was it their leader? As this thought crossed my mind, I perceived the shrubbery of energy crystals I was near respond in sympathy. Clearly domination of my mind was a shared goal, and their leader, the king, the big kahuna, it had done something. It had acted like a beacon, drawing me to it, the source of their power, the one all of the others followed. Was it protecting the others?

There was a flurry of activity, passing through the energy crystals near me. Like children startled by the wind, they fluttered and shrieked, in their own way, as if I had heard a sound from them, but it was only my eyes. In fact, they had given me an impression using their power, knowing my mind, responding either in fear or trepedation. This was most concerning to me, as I had no idea of their true power, what they could muster if the need was great enough.

I decided that staying here might upset them, so I got up, walked to a wide opening to a tunnel passageway, which happened to split in to, a main left artery leading downward and a smaller tunnel leading mostly level or slightly uphill. I took the left branch and followed it. There were glowing energy crystals scattered along the path. As I approached, they would glow brighter and even encourage me as I traveled.

I could sense that these were more attuned to serving me. They seemed nearly happy to sense my approach, and smiled benevolently as I passed and made my way. As if hit by a freight train or a flood of water crashing through the passageway, my senses nearly left me. It was difficult to perceive my body, and feelings of numbness surrounded me like a gauzy or fuzzy blanket. Then, slowly, my senses returned.

Difficult to understand, the possibility that some internal change was responsible, instead of my environment, slowly crept upon my consciousness. In fact, there was no food around, yet my hunger gnawed and clawed at me. My body was dying, clearly, and without food and water, my death was near. Yet for some reason, fear did not impose on my mind. Now a new sensation filled me, wondering if my body were to be transformed, perhaps even made into one of the energy crystals. Would they take me? The possibility that the energy crystals had the power to transform me, a simple human being, into one of them dawned on me like the opening bars of Also Sprach Zarathustra.

At first, the possibility that my own will in the matter would simply be overcome horrified me, that their will to take me would move my body around, with my own mind and will unable to object. Now pausing, it struck me as odd that the behavior of the energy crystals followed a plan, like circles radiating outward, a bullseye. Stopping, it became clear that my eyes were growing less and less useful as sensory input devices for my own will, and through a third eye a new sense was growing, not as sharp and demanding as the terror of vision, yet even more insistent, pressing, and it reminded me of the one time when intoxication by mushrooms transported my consciousness to a realm of pure thought, unencumbered by the demands of feeding or sexual reproduction.

Clearly this was some sort of initiation ritual the energy crystals had planned out. Having perceived me as other, and not too much of a threat, they simply followed their own protocol, the plan for survival laid out by their own existence over the aeons, their leader regulating the conduct proper to surviving as a community.

It reminded me of the stars in the sky and my anti-Christian philosophy. Like a glitch in a meta-physical computer, imagining, fancifully that instead of levitating and ascending to Heaven, Lord Christ was treated to a supernatural horror show: all living beings not Christ Himself received transmission via the totality of electromagnetic signal generation mustered by all of humanity and all plants and animals—the energy force of all living beings in the world—and like a terrible crime, all beings not Christ began levitating and ascending to heaven, all convinced of their own divinity, barely, dimly aware of the possibility that they were not unique in this regard, obsessed with their own senses, oblivious to Lord Christ, the only one with his feet firmly planted on the ground.

Smiling broadly, this memory opened up a radiant warmth, a counterpoint to the new sensations the energy crystals impressed upon my mind. It was too easy, thinking, letting the thoughts pass through me, wondering if they were truly mine. It was now apparent that the energy crystals could sense competition with my mind by sensing my thoughts. Or was it different? Were the energy crystals mostly in charge of my thinking, with objections and counterpoints to thought itself resisting this relentless onslaught of action, of bodily action?

If the energy crystals could not control my body, then they would be defenseless in the event some need arose, some purpose served by the bodies of the energy crystals themselves, and it now became apparent through simple logical reflection that the minds of the energy crystals were in fact joined through their physical connection to the cavern. Shocked, it now occurred to me: these energy crystals may in fact be some parasitic growth, and cavern itself could be alive!

Perceiving this new possibility, this new energy, it would mean some circulatory system, some biological nature to the cavern itself, must exist. However, such a being would be vast, far greater than me, and my body would not be large enough to be perceived as a mortal, mechanical threat, through the exercise of my will alone. So, direct communication would be difficult. Now my memory served me: communication is only possible between equals.

inspiration: https://old.reddit.com/r/sorceryofthespectacle/comments/1341xcy/the_obsidian_bubble/

December of 2023, I took mushrooms in a garage a light dose and I kept repeating that “it’s all rape”

Throughout history, states have justified their existence through promises of public welfare, stability, and prosperity. Authoritarian regimes, in particular, often present themselves as benevolent protectors, fostering economic growth and order in exchange for strict control over social and political life. However, this public-facing image masks a deeper reality: these states, whether authoritarian, libertarian, or democratic, often operate not as public institutions serving the collective good but as entities reinforcing capitalist power structures. Across the political spectrum, from authoritarianism’s loyalty networks to libertarianism’s individualism, the state apparatus tends to prioritize control, resource accumulation, and the interests of a ruling elite over genuine public welfare.

Drawing on insights from thinkers such as Max Weber, Robert Michels, Minxin Pei, David Graeber, and Frédéric Bastiat, this essay will explore how states maintain a facade of public service while perpetuating cronyism, loyalty networks, and selective anti-corruption efforts to conceal their fundamentally self-serving functions. Through mechanisms that blend loyalty-based bureaucracy with capitalist desires for power and privilege, these regimes create the illusion of stability and progress, masking a system that ultimately serves elite interests rather than the people.

The State’s Public Facade of Prosperity and Service

Max Weber’s theory of bureaucracy provides a lens through which to understand how authoritarian regimes present themselves as stable, orderly, and benevolent. Weber noted that bureaucracy lends itself to impersonal efficiency, allowing an organization to function seamlessly regardless of leadership changes. In authoritarian states, this bureaucratic structure enables the regime to promote itself as a provider of public welfare and economic stability, emphasizing achievements in infrastructure, economic growth, and social order. These achievements become powerful symbols of the state’s supposed commitment to the public good, justifying its control.

However, this controlled narrative is reinforced by the state’s control over information. In many such regimes, state-run media, selective transparency, and carefully controlled public discourse project an image of progress and service while obscuring power dynamics and internal conflicts. By carefully managing information, the regime presents itself as a source of stability, much like Weber’s notion of bureaucracy suggests, but it hides a more complex system driven by the consolidation of personal and political power rather than by a neutral commitment to public welfare.

Loyalty and Cronyism as the True Engines of Power

Robert Michels’ “iron law of oligarchy” provides insight into the power consolidation within authoritarian regimes, where loyalty networks and cronyism often take precedence over competence or ideological dedication. Michels argued that all organizations, even those initially founded on democratic or collective ideals, naturally tend toward oligarchy. In authoritarian states, this tendency becomes a central feature, with loyalty to influential leaders serving as the key criterion for advancement within the political hierarchy.

In the country of study, for example, the ability to gain favor within elite networks determines both the survival and success of officials. Personal allegiances, factional alliances, and loyalty-based appointments replace meritocratic practices, creating a hierarchy where governance is indistinguishable from self-serving ambition. This transformation of loyalty into an instrument of power exemplifies Michels’ theory, highlighting how the authoritarian state’s primary function shifts toward consolidating and perpetuating control rather than serving the public good. Through these loyalty structures, authoritarian regimes become less about governance and more about maintaining the personal power of those within the ruling circle.

Anti-Corruption Campaigns as Tools for Power Consolidation

Anti-corruption campaigns are another effective mechanism used by authoritarian states to consolidate power while appearing to address systemic issues. Minxin Pei has argued that in authoritarian systems, anti-corruption drives frequently serve as selective tools to target political rivals rather than genuinely address corruption. By selectively enforcing moral standards, regimes eliminate potential threats under the guise of ethical reform, reinforcing loyalty to central authority and presenting a public image of integrity.

In the country of study, for instance, selective anti-corruption campaigns have been instrumental in strengthening the leader’s position by removing opponents and securing loyalty within key ranks. Through this tactic, the state presents itself as a force for morality and reform while actually using these drives to solidify control over internal power dynamics. Pei’s analysis reveals that, far from being purely reformative, these campaigns serve the deeper purpose of enforcing loyalty and consolidating power, allowing the state to mask its true motivations behind a facade of ethical governance.

The Capitalist Dynamics Behind State-Controlled Prosperity

David Graeber’s insights into debt and control mechanisms illustrate how authoritarian regimes employ capitalist principles to maintain power, even while professing to work toward collective ideals. Graeber noted that debt and financial dependency function as powerful tools of social control, creating relationships that bind individuals or groups to systems of authority. In authoritarian regimes, the narrative of state-led economic success operates similarly, creating a dependency on the state’s resources and fostering a public compliance that prevents opposition.

For instance, in the country of study, state-controlled projects and economic initiatives channel resources to elite loyalists, ensuring that wealth accumulation and opportunity are concentrated within the upper ranks of the political hierarchy. While these projects are celebrated as public benefits, their function serves the elite, creating a capitalist-like distribution of resources that contradicts the regime’s stated commitment to equality. Graeber’s argument reveals how the structure of economic dependency maintains authoritarian control, replicating capitalist principles of wealth concentration and elite privilege within a system that claims to be anti-capitalist.

Concealing Elite Self-Enrichment and Cronyism as Public Service

Frédéric Bastiat’s concept of the state as a “great fiction” offers a powerful critique of how authoritarian regimes mask the self-enrichment of elites as public service. Bastiat argued that the state often operates as a fiction that allows elites to benefit under the pretense of serving the public. In authoritarian systems, this fiction is maintained through loyalty networks, selective policy benefits, and public narratives of national progress, which frame elite-driven decisions as sacrifices for the collective good.

In the country of study, loyalty-based appointments and preferential resource allocations provide elites with privileges disguised as public policy. Infrastructure projects, government contracts, and high-profile initiatives are often framed as national achievements, while in reality they serve to consolidate the influence and resources of those closest to power. Bastiat’s insight into the state as a “great fiction” reveals how authoritarian regimes sustain a narrative of public service while functioning primarily as vehicles for elite enrichment. Thus, the state projects an image of altruism that conceals a fundamentally capitalist orientation toward resource and power concentration.

Beyond The Public Facade How The State Serves Capitali - Portal Mountain

It seems like a bizarre omission from a lot review given what he wrote about. It is an arguable that he would have encountered him.

I know Carl Jung isn’t a frequent authority in art criticism and is not without controversy when attempting to do so (his essay on Picasso, for example). However, I recall the segment of his book Man and His Symbols on modern art where his acolyte Aniela Jaffé acknowledges the unconscious as the potent source of art but criticizes certain elements of the surrealist movement (especially automatic writing, Dadaist poetry and exercises in randomness) which are essentially pure expressions of the unconscious mind without conscious organization. I believe her idea was that art creation requires the unconscious mind for potent ideas but also the counterbalancing conscious mind to organize them into a pattern or else you just have incomprehensible randomness.

I’m not sure I 100% agree with this but it caught my attention. Any ideas or thoughts on this?

Summary:

We are experiencing a significant shift in human communication and meaning-making known as the "metamodern linguistic turn." This involves the emergence of a dual mode of discourse that alternates between the literal and symbolic, as well as the resurgence of an oral culture paradigm within digital media.

The metamodern era blends sincerity and irony, materiality and abstraction, the universal and particular in complex ways. Communication involves fluid code-switching between factual descriptions and symbolic/mythic modes within the same language.

Digital media has given rise to a "secondary orality" that combines the participatory, improvisational qualities of oral culture with the archival affordances of writing. Language in the digital age is a living, evolving ecosystem shaped by the interplay of individual creativity and collective intelligence.

To understand metamodern meaning-making, the article explores French philosopher Gilbert Simondon's concepts of "transduction" (how meaning emerges through interactions between different levels/modes) and "disparation" (the tense asymmetry between these modes). The technical and religious modes are both amplified in the digital era.

The metamodern linguistic landscape is a contested arena of cultural-political power, as movements and leaders must navigate between literalism and symbolism, sincerity and irony, to shape narratives and mobilize action. This involves appealing to both rational interests and mythic imagination.

The poetics of metamodern meaning emphasize remix, pastiche and recontextualization to grapple with complexity and ambiguity. Creators combine elements of myth and cutting-edge tech, personal and collective memory, sacred and profane, to forge new symbolic languages.

The destabilizing effects of the metamodern condition pose challenges to notions of truth, critical thinking, and shared reality. A new literacy is needed to discern the fluid layers of meaning and agendas behind communications, while embracing a more integral, holistic epistemology.

The metamodern mind is undergoing a disorienting "fusion" into a planetary networked intelligence that is both hyper-individualized and hyper-connected. Navigating this novel state requires a new sense of fluid, interdependent identity and "neural" social organization.

https://gettherapybirmingham.com/the-participatory-poetics-of-metamodern-language-and-culture/