Tag Archives: marshall mcluhan
Morning McLuhan Reflections
The loss of the wrist watch, and the rise of the cell phone have produced a new kind of voluntary time.
Time on the assembly line was not voluntary, the looming clock everyone could see…
Then wrist watches decentralized the central clock in the Grand Central style. Time became a tad more voluntary, but more present: it’s also in the home, as well as “at work” whatever that kind of slavery was back then. Admittedly though, the wrist watch did make time ubiquitous. In the 1980’s, I mean, who didn’t have a wrist watch, or five; like Madonna..?
Anyhow, cell phones make time a bit more flatly digital or that is, a monopoly on the sun dial sort of time. Remember that digits are light projected at our face. As McLuhan says, the Sun Dial is a more forgiving sort of time, not because it isn’t exact per se, but because it is light in a three dimensional form versus a line; a moving line, the striking finger of a clock…I look over at my Smart Phone, and time even if in content, exact, I have had to open up the phone to find it…And even if it were threatening, I have a world of options to open time up to the perceptions of anyone I choose. Time under internet conditions, is organic and perhaps altogether becoming absent.
Best of You
Anyone who experienced the early nineties the way my generation did, knows what Mr. Grohl is actually saying here. On any number of levels.
This is possibly one of my favorite songs of all time. Actually, wait, it is. Most definitely. It is I think the first, truely epic song by the Foo Fighters that could put them back with his former band’s level: Nirvana. It is, judging by the seeming deliberate throatiness and extended high notes, that he is referencing his long lost friend, too.
I don’t know, the international corporations held it off and squashed the rebellion after 94.
But again, if the corporations weren’t here, it would be necessary to invent them.
However, this level of realness, will be a thing of the long lost past. Our relationship with our emotions will never be this complex again. The telescreen and anti-environment of the computer is rendering us into vacant hullks striving for a lost identity. This is the struggle against this loss. Generation X had not yet lost the inner logic left over from the 500 year enlightenment. But it is now over. 9-11 really threw it in our faces.
The never ending Lady Gagas are the Ecoland infused by media. We will never be unfictional like this again.
On a so-called even “realer” level, the struggle against the corporation in the early nineties shaped so ubiquitously every inch of our Starbucks sponsored life, so wildly pervasive in our living room six hour Saturday Morning seances. We are leaving plastic suburbia though. Urbania is metal and glass. In an age where metal and glass aren’t necessary. Through these architects eyes there could be any level of intelligent nature.
Urbania is Oz and Oz is forever.
I did paintings of this story. I wil continue to. Maybe I’ll make it into a Gen-X story book appealing to the divorce rate of that generation. We were the first to experience divorce in this country quite that high. Gen-Y doesn’t give a shit, they’re not generally that deep. Ha.
I remember eating endless Fruit Loops and watching Ghostbusters. I remember when there used to be first kisses. There will never be again for another child so long as the electrification of culture turns us tribal. And tribal means empty in the way we knew from 1776 on especially I’d say. Collective, the internal brain is gone and robot takes over. Looking for what we are only told is human. The robot’s quest is our quest now.
The human drama must continue, but especially because it is obsolete. 🙂
Sons of the Silent Age Part 4
“He’s also a member?”
Almost snorting, Camille spat a retort at her. “Of what?” she quipped. “The preferred Homecoming King along with being an aspiring scientist, right Helen?”
“Ah, that’s right Pam.”
She didn’t care, they couldn’t get away with this. So she skipped the doubt she had of any success, and…
He sat down alongside Helen, sliding in. He did have that great long low jaw jutting far from his neck, gracefully, but strong. Eyes, blue, crystal blue like hers, and Helen’s. It wasn’t a coincidence, blue eyes were the CAMBIAN or USC genetic preference for most parents. There was that taffiness again with Andrew though, when he smiled, like with David, but ever so faintly.
She liked him, instantly, despite everything, but she was reproachful and skeptical of what she considered his potential intellect at that point. Or maybe she was just a Louse, a Tramp, a Floozy, a Slut..? Well, no that would be a good thing, she gandered…
Maybe I’m just attracted to like, everybody. I like to feel beauty, or ugliness sometimes…
“I understand you’re Camille.”
Andrew immediately came out with. extending his hand as if to kiss hers, not to shake. They shook hands.
“Where’s Helen?” said Rachael dismissively.
“Oh she’ll be here in a minute…” said Gorsky.
Pam talked for a bit with them, and then…
“Well I’ll let you two get acquainted…” she said in the general-you tone.
Rachael didn’t have much to say now.
Her mom and Nana both slid out of the booth, and they were alone.
“Okay, you seem really nice and all but, I mean first off, I don’t usually date Poles!”
He laughed. “My parents didn’t put me up to this.”
“To what?? For what?” she replied.
“Well, to meet you.”
“Oh,” she said in defeat.
“What, what’s wrong with–”
“–What did your mom or Helen or whoever–tell you?”
“Um, I know Helen, cause Mr. Damiand’s son. Do you know Dr. Damiand? He works with Helen.”
She remembered Helen and Erol or was it, David? -Talking about something like that, but couldn’t pull anything specific out of her memory right then and there.
“No I guess I don’t.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I don’t.”
“Okay…”
“Okay, so whatever, we have to make this sustainable here and now, so okay, what do you do?” she asked.
“I’m a student, I want to be an engineer.”
“What kind?”
“The kind that works on stuff,” he said, smiling. His light and candid demeanor were working on her…she had to admit.
There was suddenly, out of nowhere it seemed, a long awkward pause between them.
He came right out with it. “Do you have a Boyfriend?”
Another pause.
“No.”
“Cool.”
“Why?”
“I dunno, seemed like a good starting point to better conversation…”
“Indeed,” she came at him with, still having no idea how to react, looking afraid…
By the time Helen, Pam, the Colonel, and Nana were all back at the table, she and Gorsky were playing footsie and poking at each other, trying not to be seen.
Pam and Helen were glowing synchronously.
Rachael felt that dagger again. And the sensation of eating poison, with enough distraction to want it.
But why is Helen smiling? Smile as you kill I guess, huh Helen?
Just then the taffy man himself came on a levitating View, happening to have stopped at their table to relay ads and information on where to buy things and Tourist attractions too…
Rachael was the only one to look above their booth. She poked her head, trying to get a mental snapshot of everything around her.
There were just as many Views hovering from table to table, each of them a flexible, shape shifting monolith, many translucent rectangular variations floating intelligently around the room. The Huge View before them in particular was a taffy-like man, but out of control taffy, and scary! Rachael thought this, without enough time to make conclusions—
“—Hahahahahaahahahaahahahaha!” The man chuckled, uproariously–at everything. Like a demon with altogether characteristically loose cackling jaw!
“I’m Guy Migger, featuring those tried and true consumer products only YOU deserve!”
She thought seriously that he could any moment be featuring Monster Trucks, and in the next moment, a Nazi rally. The next? Soap. Then…?
Nothing.
He disappeared. Oddly.
Reappearing to replay Monster Trucks, Adolf Hitler speaking softly to a man, then. Then Soap.
Rachael was going to vomit. ‘The fear,’ the dark fear had returned to torture her and rid her of peace of mind once again…
“Ah-hahahahaahahahahahahahaahahahahaha!!!” This discarnate head of a blonde blue eyed suburban mad man was of some generic early 2030’s ‘Epoche’ or period style ‘Characateur’–come-to-life! He had slicked back hair and a sturdy pressed collar. Stylistically, he appeared like a mesh between comic books themselves, and real life. Whatever that was anymore.
“Actually Guy Micker, was the name of the real one here.” Helen said it.
“Who?” Pam came in with, like a doe in the lair of a Gigantic Spider.
The Colonel and his wife were fading into the wallpaper, and fast…a sad tinkering could be heard, of Nana softly letting the spoon drop from her hand onto the Micro tea plate. The Colonel just sat there, staring at the table.
Helen continued over to Pam. “Guy Micker, the ol’ Tycoon maniac? You don’t remember him?”
“I mean, Helen, come now, and how many Cereal Killers have we had in the last few years? Like 30?”
Pam had made a genuinely rational point. Rachael noticed it. So did Camille.
“That’s who this is based out of, and it just happened to actually catch on. Masochistic to me…”
She’d never seen Helen, even the likes of Helen be so intelligent. Rachael lapped it up, then reproached herself for being such a cunt licker!
Guy Migger went on to describe the inevitable product he was no doubt about to shove down everyone’s throats–before which, he could only tell you about the new press for superiority against Utah, and the USC fight to prevail.
They’re using our fear of fear. And wait, why again, why isn’t Helen feeling guilty about torturing me right now? She must know!
Somewhere in her, she was confessing to herself, uncovering her own dirty little secret of wanting to like Helen, and blighting herself. Then beating her head with a mental punishing Switch for giving into it…
“Hey wait, isn’t the USC done with Utah? I mean, isn’t Utah, like kaput or what not???” Andrew asked, urgently. Something intelligent. It had to have been a plant. Of her mom’s, no doubt…
It had to be! Just had to!
Rachael felt more and more just mere Rachael, as if to age, backwards. No more Camille, no more future adult. Just fucking damn regular old Rachael…She was getting desperate to believe herself and hold to Reality.
My reality? NO. Somewhere the word ‘My’ could not go with Reality. No sir, she thought. Only a grammatical article such as THE could fit something so large, finite and yet, vast.
And no respect for it, not anywhere, save from this jack ass hot guy who could talk, and Helen, this demon of a package, with independence inside. From her mom. From CAMBIAN. From Voca’s, and Finally Fourteen…
The Onslaught Toilet-Bowl, Poo Wars, Vast Stone of Flies!
Nevertheless, was she to give in to it?
Never. She’d sworn. Long ago.
It would be so easy if Pam hated Helen. But she didn’t. And Pam liked her back, and golf liked them both. And they were evil, they had to be. Both of them.
It made her want to fuck Andrew while shooting at her mom appendage by appendage, until she got to blow her brains out and cum all over his face.
She came back. To the table.
“So glad you’ve joined us again,” Pam said.
She was getting a heady sensation. And low, so low. Need to breathe…
“Move, please, I’m sorry And–” Her mom gave her a look of no life beyond death.
Shrugging, she decided not to care, as she pushed her own way out of the booth and onto the red carpet, straight away to the restroom.
***
She was washing her hands and then she came to her again.
“Rachael…? Raccheeaeel?”
Softly, ever so gently…again. She knew it was coming.
“Una,” she stated, gravely.
“Don’t give into them. They’re only skin deep.”
“You’re still talking in metaphors. Clichés again, no less. Seems to make sense though.”
Terror had become visible as a medium to her in that instant.
Controllable. Maybe someday.
“I’ll talk to you some more, and better ways, if you take that injection…” said Una.
It was her, the real Una she had seen long before.
The faint apparition in the mirror pointed softly to her left. There, right there, slightly under the instant hand drying unit, was indeed a cylindrical misty blue syringe.
“Take it in.”
Rachael, I can’t believe you are about to do this.
“Are you really here? I mean, this is real as it gets, Real. But how can I know, and really know that I am not dreaming?”
“You can’t,” said Una.
“Bullshit!”
There was a pause.
“You can’t Rachael.”
“Fine!” She figured her fear of what was out there scared her more, and in that moment, took the needle into her foot.
And in a swarm, she saw the poppy fields. And the Towers. The mirror expanded to reveal an endless field meeting a gigantic seaside and a sky of enormous clouds.
The waves were close and far away. They were playing her music, a long time ago. A phonograph played endlessly into the landscape.
And with that, a vertical torrent of sudden cascading tears, Rachael’s Terror fell out the bottom in streams down her cheeks and neck and chest where they disappeared forever. “No, no no!….Okay, okay, I don’t fucking care anymore! Just show me!” She was wailing, snorting and sucking in her mouth, blubbering with trying to press through the murk of pure fear.
When she was finally calm. Una spoke to her again.
“I can speak now, to you, and it will make sense to you, even though I am really, still speaking like you heard before.”
“Yes. I understand. Why haven’t you come to me before?”
“Wasn’t able to.”
“Okay. Where are we now then? I’m still at the Buffa Grill right? And how much time do I have before my fucking mom or anybody walks in?”
“Don’t worry Rachael, I’ve slowed down the rest of the restaurant.”
“What do you mean, slowed down? Like they’re, I’m guessing, their movement…?”
“Their molecules are moving at a fraction slower, making it effectively–”
“Two different places!?”
“Different places? Yes, you could call them that. Not really. “What happens to the two worlds is important to them.”
“Who?”
“Them, Rachael. Them.”
“Oh GAWD, fine!”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Ah, I’m afraid I can’t tell you that Rachael, Camille, and Halea.”
“I’m all three, I suppose.”
“No. One after the other.”
“Inevitably?”
“Pretty much.”
“What? What does that mean? Can I be put off a ‘need-to- know’ basis right now, please?”
“No.”
“No? No, what do you mean, no?!”
“I mean, it would upset the Race. I want to see a true winner.”
“Winner.”
She realized she’d meant to say it as a question, but instead, it seemed to assert itself as a statement.
“What race?!” Rachael growled at her.
“No need, really no need Rachael…You must realize you are one in a herd.”
“Don’t–Wha–Not you. Don’t tell me this, not from you…”
“Don’t worry Rachael, I’ll take care of you. Just play my little Game here…”
“Fine.”
“Give her over to the Indonesian Client.”
“Who the fuck is that?”
“Handoko Tan.”
“You’re just telling me, for…”
“You’ll see her.”
Una disappeared in that instant.
“Be cryptic, be that way, you fuckin’ sadistic Bitch.”
Back at the table her mom was recounting newly purchased accessories while Andrew was arriving from somewhere else, at the exact same time.
“Where were you?” Rachael inquired.
“Using the facilities, same as you.”
Why didn’t I see you on the way back then?” she snapped back at him, instantly.
He looked at everyone as if to get permission, then said laughing in a jocular, yet defensive tone, throwing his hands up rhetorically while he spoke further–”I didn’t think it was that big a deal!” He chuckled some more.
She tried to calm herself. Her mom began pushing her a bit further into her seat as she soothed the back of her neck.
“You’re being paranoid, Rach!” he said to her, as if he’d known her for years.
You don’t know me yet, okay?”
She’d said it right in front of Helen, who just seemed to watch with a placid look on her face.
“Okay, okay girl, sure no prob.”
He sucker punched her. Like Kim would.
Right, like Kim would. Nice try Una.
But was it her?
He laughed with everyone else, whole heartedly this time. Rachael looked peaked.
“Do you need to go back to the restroom Rach?” Pam asked, dully.
www.VesperHelioTropic.com
Vesper Heliotropic Graphic Novel Excerpt Page 33
Vesper Heliotropic Chapter 1 “Garden” as Read Aloud by Author
God’s Good Earthen Soil – Dystopic Sci-Fi – Vesper Heliotropic Excerpt
She also and weirdly, knew that his daughter was no longer ‘present’ on God’s Good Earthen Soil, either. Harietta Damiand had died in a horrible Hover accident involving several or more automobiles. She was nine at the time of her death.
He had loved her, like Daddy’s do. Or like, Daddy’s can. To complicate things, Johanna, his wife was going senile. Her sudden dementia was combatted with restructuring software and everything, but in the end, she just slipped away.
This made things more convenient for him of course, especially. Harietta had been made of God’s Good Flesh when she lived. She was made of God’s Own Good Born Silicate and now, well now, she was made of wood. Dr. Damiand, resurrected her by copying what the Intra-Portable Equiv-MRI Bot, that is, the brain software, had recorded…
…Read More of Vesper Heliotropic Book II. RACHAEL Here!
Vesper Heliotropic Dystopic Sci-Fi Novel
Doris had been the first…
“…Doris had been the first. The remains of her body churned in a state of suspension as The Gentleman had emptied the blood and changed the soap at different intervals. This was so that the body would go through decomposition at different stages.
The dark otherwise empty room was lined on either side with moving bodies in the metallic yellow and blue of twelve industrial washing machines. In front of each of the spinning engines of the machines was a nice neat set of clothes and shoes along with all the other personal things on their person. A book, a Light-Board, a deck of cards, notes, and a tiny micro world of their life was laid out before the churning of their bodies, as if respectively, each of them had merely stepped into a hot bath…”
…Read More of Vesper Heliotropic Book I. Crystal Turbines…
a chanting hum
“The chanting hum of many large air-conditioning units permeated the streets and lawns of Crescent Village.”
“–Everything is just fine, and that vacation time means everything is going to be f—–g fun!”
“–Everything is just fine, and that vacation time means everything is going to be fucking fun!” He then turned to his wife and added with an off and rancorous tone, “No Eileen, not this time, I see you with that look of yours, but nop!-This is too important, this is the big event, we’ve been waiting for months–the cook-off, the Big-Game barbecue!”
After that, he grabbed his daughter by the collar of her T-shirt and threw her…Read More of VH Book II. RACHAEL
Note to Self – Probe 451 – Ramblings on The New Marketing
I’m too far ahead, as usual. Not a blessing in this case, need to profit guerrilla style.
Fragmentation of media preference will precede integration of communities into geo-magnetized self interest. The latter, is for later. That’s my realization today.
Example: Supermarkets are increasingly offering benefits for being a “card member” more custom orientation or least rather, the embryonic state of one. Conversely, supermarket style Portals are taking over and replacing websites with “presences.” This will continue to be abstract and the way to take advantage of such a market, is at first here, specialization of content toward niche audience, while that audience undergoes the numb state. This passivity can be taken advantage of per niche as we have seen with the traditional advertisers get “on in it.” MTV and Sony are such realizations. But they lack. They lack the sense.
This is the sense. This is the future: Horizontalization and fragmentation lead to reintegration of culture into niches across the world. These niches in their reintegration process will reject traditional modes of awareness i.e. Nike “Just Do It,” and “Support Our Troops.”
In a nutshell: Target communities via their own special interests via Google Ad Words and AdSense to hone in on the “Halo” of their commute and day. Fill their day, with YOURSELF. Keep in mind that the country is and forever now will be, on the verge of civil war. Just another note to self–fragmentation of culture has its breaking point, and margins may be nowhere, but there are seams everywhere.
Temporary Like Achilles
It’s hard to know who a traitor is.
“Treason doth never prosper. Why? Because if treason prospered, none dare call it treason.” – JFK, Oliver Stone
The major reigning institution of our time, primarily government dominated corporatism, or oligarchy, a business run society, finds it convenient to pour propaganda into believing in the Achilles tendon approach to life and logic by always going after non-sequitors to debunk claims.
Why?
Well consider that most people you know are probably oriented toward reasoning that looks for anything to disprove any theory. Whether you know it or not. I’ve even been duped by the present form of business and remnant Christendom in the form of skepticism.
That is, the skeptic movement is extremely convenient for big business that depends on making big theories into hash. We don’t see it but it’s there. For the right, the American oligarchy is trying pit the right against the left out of poking ‘holes’ in evolution. For the left, big business is trying to poke holes in anything philosophical that challenges the so-called capitalist story while supporting judeo-christian values in their propaganda. Its kind of like when I saw all of a 4 year old cousin’s Lego set of you know, random houses and people painted all in red white and blue. The advertising agenda had a conservative parental strategy in mind to sell patriotic Lego sets.
I’ve witnessed the veiling of christian ethics in the guise of the real and true science of skepticism, (vs. the philosophy I believe to be inherently flawed) which I believe in good enough numbers, to be a hidden Christian movement, as many skeptics are also former Church goers. Michael Shermer, a former Christian himself and now a leader of the skeptics movement is a poster boy for the allegedly converted atheist. Yet he is extremely populist in Rhetoric and the Things he writes about Tend to be politically motivated, yet, go figure–sound in content. Practically being raised atheist, myself, I see where the interpersonal gaps are.
The truth is not in what we’re saying (cause people will think your crazy) but even the most adamant conservative brainwashed Fox News junky, or conditioned liberal MSNBC monk, will reveal things about how desperate they feel through implicit means such as inflection, but also content, when their living space is under attack. My late grandfather, a very conservative christian former WW2 Colonel railed against corporate clear cutting of forests in Maine, as said, only cause he lived there, but still, it shows what people actually believe once their interests are threatened.
I’ve had 4 close friends pose as Intellectuals who are actually touting status quo religious attitudes. Funny enough, I have to admit I am partially a religious thinker in method. That is, I think the mental process of rapture is necessary to a healthy epistemology. Another story for another time.
I am not saying that all skeptics are synonymous with Christian values, but that business is profiting off of playing one group against another so that the acquisition of threatening quantities of Capitol are kept at shallow equadistant levels for the common ‘Peasantry.’ According to Michael Moore which I later verified, Citibank group leaked a document describing the American people as ‘Peasantry.’
It’s no secret that those in power consider things from a medieval point of view since their real business is power and force. Global domination. At present I do not see major signs that the global corporate agenda is coming at all exclusively from the right, though it may.
My point here is that people are translating bottom lines into lived philosophy. The bottom line inside the corporate model, is a job in which (unless it’s tech, and most often even then) you must work all of your vital weekly hours inside someone else’s dream of your life. This consumer model environment has been rendered temporary by the advent of the Internet and its decentralization of culture. Meanwhile centralized authority strives to make all countries sit stagnant together, as Chomsky points out, into ‘a low wage equilibrium’ within a blanket of constant war and low scale innovation. He has a tantamount quantity of controlled evidence to support this.
So when a close friend or family tells you that trying to get rich is a pipe dream,they may be correct, or they may not, but don’t ever close the door on any idea because people are telling you it just isn’t gonna happen. What you’re confronting is not an opinion, but very possibly, a conditioned reflex.
Sent from my iPad
Belief and Industrial vs.Electronic Man 2
Belief and Industrial vs. Electronic Man
A rambling of my maddening frustrations with leftist thinking. And rightist and whatever thinking opposes belief. In any case, I am analyzing how and why people have set belief systems and what the advantages of them are.
New Marshall McLuhan Video!
FULL of great stuff, totally STILL ahead. Note what he says about the cognitive process of ‘rapid guessing’ that ‘turn the human into the executor…the literate vs. post-literate (Facebook) man. WOW.
SEO will ultimately end marketing.
SPRINGFIELD MALL, Springfield, Virginia (Literally Half Abandoned)
For now, we think of search engine optimization as the science of bringing quality content to users by means of greater and greater improved search engine ‘visibility,’ and website architectural as well as keyword niche efficiency. But, what is the metaphysical (philosophy) sense of this? That is, the logical end of SEO?
I remember seeing Chat Roullette and saying in a flash over to my fiancé, Kristin, “This will be the beginning of the end of marketing.”
Well, CR is not yet that, though I will say its interface is just beginning to catch up to WordPress or Blogging/CMS standards. I.e. They have tagging and titles along with what appears to be a generic, but better UI.
Despite this, the so-called Social Media sites are taking marketing to ‘another level.’ Everyone seems so hyped up to say that, but curiously don’t seem to care why.
Well, why is it that social media sites are taking the Web, blogging, and marketing to new stage in developing the arts themselves…?
Answer: Because the end result of technology is always automation and the end result of all social models is conformity to a set of standards which through life can pass.
Yes, philosophy does matter to the Web. Standards through which life pass are essentially ethics but express themselves in terms of culture. Cultures tend very highly to orient themselves into groups. But groups organized by what?
During the Middle Ages in Europe, the stirrup (as Marshall McLuhan points out in The Global Village) ended the reign of the sword, putting to rest the knight’s existence as a more help-dependant or Squire dependent military unit. This along with Japanese firework powder made military orientation lead to the advent of the gun and of course, the end of the sword, along with it, hand to hand combat as primary infantry method on planet Earth.
In the same way, SEO will put an end not to traditional marketing, but marketing itself essentially because it flattens transactions and closes the gap between user or buyer and proprietor in a new way.
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Automation – Remember HTML? What was its primary function? To display web pages in a page-like layout. What is HTML5’s primary philosophical (meaning web) premise? Answer: To optimize and streamline for video and social media. HTML along with every other technology has become a semantic tool, meaning living in a moving fashion. Remember having to learn a backend language for real? Now it’s WordPress and Drupal. Not to say coding isn’t where the tech and money is at, but it won’t be for much longer. RSS, CMS, Blogging, and Keyword Orientation has transformed all of our processes. As the web closes the gap on users and business owners, the need to look hard to sell becomes obsolete.
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Semantic Web & Infancy of Social Right Brain Dominance – Keyword Niches and Intelligent browsers and browsing is where the curve is. Recombining elements is the essence of creativity and that is also the essence of SEO, bridging the gap between producer and user by means of the progressively precise fine tuning of his or her interests. Notice I said progressively. What SEO looks like now and what it will look like 5 years from now are six different things. It will be pretty common in 2017 to have people refer to hear people refer to what scent or fragrance would go well with their blog. It will also be common to see image and speech intelligence as premium. Text will be subordinate more and more as people can speak their searches along with hearing them being echoed back in terms of Minority Report or Vesper HelioTropic style 3D arrays hooked up to your Kinect. Yeah.
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Year by year more and more are connected. This is the phrase of an outdated, confused old era. The new slogan will read “Year by year, more are integrated.” Or should read. The computer has always been the great integrator and SEO is the new manifestation or infant which later will probably be automated. SEO will become a simple yet long list of preferences through which Google’s dynamic semantic-AI run database processing system will coordinate all the possibilities of where your ad could appear in terms of FAR more info than we’d consider now. Imagine doing a search for your name and seeing an ad for a colonge you mentioned over mobile text and mobile text alone? Imagine when SEO extends into what you say and maybe we’ll be watching our mouths more. See SOPA: http://www.webpagefx.com/blog/general/internet-blacklist-legislation-a-threat-to-the-economy-and-our-liberty/
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Web Semantics Trumps Social Media – Right now words are the new ‘units’ of consumption. But in 2017, these will be smells, tastes, pics from your retinal cam (yep!), and Google Goggles intelligence. Semantics is refering to words that are basically just acting as tags to combine into unique niches. Think marketing was spread out enough already. The modern consumer of 2017 will have a lot more and a lot less to think about. She or he will be worried about how to make their unique impression and unique skills in order to produce enough revenue to quit their necessarily low paying day jobs. Cause all 9-5’s will be evaporating into personal collectives of ‘Followers.’
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Followers Yield Special Interest Groups. The modern person in 2017 will be trying to create and fit in at the same time. No longer the two dimensional life of consumers and producers. Now everyone is both. The modern guy or gal will be hooked up with a person far better than either of them would dare to dream possible through roulette-like SEO site integrations and before college we will likely have a far better idea of what we want to do in life. Not like college will have half the draw it does now once personal ‘imprints’ generate revenue for a good number of people. The long and the short of this is that we will be buying each other’s products more and more as we buy pretty much only our staples, food, bedding, housing etc. Through online, yes, but more traditional outlets.
The man and woman’s social reality in 2025 will be the beginnings of true tribalism in America and the western world.
We will wonder why we continued to limit our buying patterns to a few names we trusted? When our apartments are furnished by our ‘local-network’ ‘Meubles Afficionado.’ Imagine living in a town geographically settling out of an online network. Imagine getting your groceries delivered to you by an artist who is living off the revenue of web performances and the local cafe has crushed its local Starbucks where each Facebook like means another $5 or $10 in the bank. Where the work of a commute is gone and you are now a pedestrian. Where the bicycle is now more used than the automobile. Where you have a 30 hour work week with a bit of homework.
Where you and your audience are not merely one, but symbiotic to each other in a feedback loop where money is taken for granted, something software takes care of generating while living and publicizing our lives is now the same thing.
***
– Copyright © Neal Cormier 2011 All Rights Reserved –
Neal Cormier is an artist and writer originally from the Washington D.C. area.
– www.NealCormier.com – His concentration is visual art–especially oil painting and graphic novel illustration.
He is also an up and coming fiction writer, of which Vesper Heliotropic is his first full length novel publication with Amazon, Barnes and Nobles (eBooks) and Lulu Inc. (for paperback & hardcover) Neal recently had a showing at National Airport in Arlington, VA (March 11 – June 25 in Terminal A). He also, and even more recently, had a first book signing for Vesper Heliotropic at The Midtown Scholar, a local hipster style bookstore in downtown Harrisburg, PA.
Neal has sold a variety of pieces to clients from around the world. His artwork has been shown in cafés, bars and galleries in New York City, Washington D.C., Paris and Alençon, France.
After high school, Neal attended the School of Visual Arts in New York City and spent four years living in both Brooklyn and Manhattan. He moved to France after this, and spent roughly about the same length of time in the region of Basse-Normandie, northern France. As a result, he speaks French and has a (tall) 9 year old daughter, Lili. He now resides back home in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania with his fiancé, Kristin.
List of Art & Media By Neal Cormier
Art & Blog
Web Design/Development Services
The Novel’s Website
– Vesper Heliotropic is a general teen/adult sci-fi ebook, paperback and hardcover, and is a Steampunk(ish) serial novel. The first written publication is OUT NOW VIA LULU.com on PAPERBACK and SPECIAL-JACKETED HARDCOVER, and is available for THE AMAZON KINDLE as well as BARNES AND NOBLES NOOK EBOOKS. VESPER HELIOTROPIC, THE CRYSTAL TURBINES SERIES GRAPHIC NOVEL IS ALSO OUT NOW ON FULL COLOR GLOSSY PAPERBACK! 46 Pages Full Color Interior and Exterior – ONLY $19.99! –
www.VesperHelioTropic.com
Vesper Heliotropic Book I. CRYSTAL TURBINES by Neal Aaron Cormier is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License
Vesper Heliotropic Book I. CRYSTAL TURBINES © Copyright 2011 Neal Cormier All Rights Reserved
Visit the Author’s Website – Neal Cormier Art
Corporate Hegemony and Internet Philosophy
The corporate superiority of the redneck or hillbilly in terms of communication that is all at once, integral, in depth awareness and slang tongue. Coupled with a real time, emotional, instant multidimensional medevil, non-abstract, purely expression driven linguistic form.
1-10-12
Sent from my iPad
–
The new ideology is oral tradition and tribal-inclusive peaceful and intelligent. We reject the philosophy of our forebears here who hold humanity in slavery and teach the doctrine of self-sacrifice rather than the balanced median of selfishness first and love, second. –One cannot love ANYONE else to any degree or form, without first loving and then, falling in love with oneself.
1-09-12
Sent from my iPad
–
People have a sense that by buying products, they're being had, in order to counteract this, since age in memoria, we have henceforth sold them the idea that in buying Into the system, they're rebelling. And since, every form of rebellion has been packaged behind every product. Think missiles. Think McDonalds. Pay your taxes. Buy Ice Cream. Think milk.Drink. Drive. Give me your money. Good job. 1-09-12 Sent from my iPad
***
– Copyright © Neal Cormier 2011 All Rights Reserved –
Neal Cormier is an artist and writer originally from the Washington D.C. area.
– www.NealCormier.com – His concentration is visual art–especially oil painting and graphic novel illustration.
He is also an up and coming fiction writer, of which Vesper Heliotropic is his first full length novel publication with Amazon, Barnes and Nobles (eBooks) and Lulu Inc. (for paperback & hardcover) Neal recently had a showing at National Airport in Arlington, VA (March 11 – June 25 in Terminal A). He also, and even more recently, had a first book signing for Vesper Heliotropic at The Midtown Scholar, a local hipster style bookstore in downtown Harrisburg, PA.
Neal has sold a variety of pieces to clients from around the world. His artwork has been shown in cafés, bars and galleries in New York City, Washington D.C., Paris and Alençon, France.
After high school, Neal attended the School of Visual Arts in New York City and spent four years living in both Brooklyn and Manhattan. He moved to France after this, and spent roughly about the same length of time in the region of Basse-Normandie, northern France. As a result, he speaks French and has a (tall) 9 year old daughter, Lili. He now resides back home in Crystal City, Virginia with his fiancé, Kristin.
List of Art & Media By Neal Cormier
Art & Blog
Web Design/Development Services
The Novel’s Website
– Vesper Heliotropic is a general teen/adult sci-fi ebook, paperback and hardcover, and is a Steampunk(ish) serial novel. The first written publication is OUT NOW VIA LULU.com on PAPERBACK and SPECIAL-JACKETED HARDCOVER, and is available for THE AMAZON KINDLE as well as BARNES AND NOBLES NOOK EBOOKS. VESPER HELIOTROPIC, THE CRYSTAL TURBINES SERIES GRAPHIC NOVEL IS ALSO OUT NOW ON FULL COLOR GLOSSY PAPERBACK! 46 Pages Full Color Interior and Exterior – ONLY $19.99! –
Vesper Heliotropic Book I. CRYSTAL TURBINES by Neal Aaron Cormier is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License
Vesper Heliotropic Book I. CRYSTAL TURBINES © Copyright 2011 Neal Cormier All Rights Reserved
Visit the Author’s Website – Neal Cormier Art
Aphoristic Futurist Thoughts: Asynchronous Messages to & from the Self
“Sat Night Live, SNL, reminds us that there is a center left in the world, with centralized cultural attitudes. Ex. Humor acts to curtail nonsense.”
– Diary Aug 2010
"You got a family!? Well I eat cottage fuckin' cheese for dinner every night mothafucka!" - VESPER HELIOTROPIC BOOK I. CRYSTAL TURBINES
“Looking at the fountains, she witnessed the possibility of not returning to an identical pattern. The water could not be predicted in specifics, only in general waves of where all the different drops would fall.”
“You really underplay how much Spatial recognition capabilities play into cognition – until I have an under hallucinatory experience.”
“The opinion today is that what’s really going on, the directly observed, as opposed to someone imagining it for you–innately has more authenticity to an relative ’empiric value.’ (Relative to our methods of data collection, today)
But as the result of what is really the evolution of the progressive sophistication of media and hence, storytelling, the stories will get realer and realer until they are no longer even slghtly inaccurate, because their content: people, will be nothing but reflexively obedient.
If we’re not conscious of this in an every day popularized way, this could create a cultural monster. And then the possibility of systematization of all this, when it’s packaged, bought and sold on the open market.
And so, there will come a point, a day where the layman’s ability to experiment with this reflection, to poke his finger not at, but into the mirror, then he will have superceded the former tools of science. And thus, a new scientific method will be bornm based off and inspearable from its technology, which are one in every reflexive sense.
– Diary Sept 2009
“The logic goes, that if you observe something in real life, it an has authenticity that writer’s and their media can’t allegedly convey in whatever medium.”
– Diary Sept 2009
If I were to tell you to listen, this would not work, so I must remove your latent inhibition by changing visual cu/lues.
NEAL CORMIER VESPER HELIOTROPIC BOOK SIGNING
Art Theory: Another ‘Philosophy Internet’ Concept
One of Art’s primary functions is to extend man’s memory into the 5 senses, in-depth. This is through Art’s ability to transmogrify experience entire (i.e. a single experience in a single person’s brain) into capsule
form.
Virtual reality nails this on virtually all counts.
Follow the WHOLE ‘Springfield’ Short Story on VesperHelioTropic.com!
– Copyright © Neal Cormier 2011 All Rights Reserved –
Neal Cormier is an artist and writer originally from the Washington D.C. area.
– www.NealCormier.com – His concentration is visual art–especially oil painting and graphic novel illustration.
He is also an up and coming fiction writer, of which Vesper Heliotropic is his first full length novel publication with Amazon, Barnes and Nobles (eBooks) and Lulu Inc. (for paperback & hardcover) Neal recently had a showing at National Airport in Arlington, VA (March 11 – June 25 in Terminal A). He also, and even more recently, had a first book signing for Vesper Heliotropic at The Midtown Scholar, a local hipster style bookstore in downtown Harrisburg, PA.
Neal has sold a variety of pieces to clients from around the world. His artwork has been shown in cafés, bars and galleries in New York City, Washington D.C., Paris and Alençon, France.
After high school, Neal attended the School of Visual Arts in New York City and spent four years living in both Brooklyn and Manhattan. He moved to France after this, and spent roughly about the same length of time in the region of Basse-Normandie, northern France. As a result, he speaks French and has a (tall) 9 year old daughter, Lili. He now resides back home in Crystal City, Virginia with his fiancé, Kristin.
List of Art & Media By Neal Cormier
Art & Blog
Web Design/Development Services
The Novel’s Website
You see these people.
You see these people.
They’re not actually living.
Deep in their minds.
This is closer to what they really see…
And they strive their whole lives to get a piece of what they think is this….
When what they end up with is something closer to this…
Until they lose someone, or you almost lose yourself, either more mentally or physically, you are suddenly in reality. Alive. You can’t know life until you’ve lived it. One line that always gets me is – “The world’s a better place when it’s upside down.” – Amy Winehouse
This is often true because you have to suddenly stand for something when what you took for granted is at stake.
What if Hitler were reborn a girl?
http://www.VesperHelioTropic.com
– Copyright © Neal Cormier 2011 All Rights Reserved –
Neal Cormier is an artist and writer originally from the Washington D.C. area.
– www.NealCormier.com – His concentration is visual art–especially oil painting and graphic novel illustration.
He is also an up and coming fiction writer, of which Vesper Heliotropic is his first full length novel publication with Amazon, Barnes and Nobles (eBooks) and Lulu Inc. (for paperback & hardcover) Neal recently had a showing at National Airport in Arlington, VA (March 11 – June 25 in Terminal A). He also, and even more recently, had a first book signing for Vesper Heliotropic at The Midtown Scholar, a local hipster style bookstore in downtown Harrisburg, PA.
Neal has sold a variety of pieces to clients from around the world. His artwork has been shown in cafés, bars and galleries in New York City, Washington D.C., Paris and Alençon, France.
After high school, Neal attended the School of Visual Arts in New York City and spent four years living in both Brooklyn and Manhattan. He moved to France after this, and spent roughly about the same length of time in the region of Basse-Normandie, northern France. As a result, he speaks French and has a (tall) 9 year old daughter, Lili. He now resides back home in Crystal City, Virginia with his fiancé, Kristin.
List of Art & Media By Neal Cormier
Art & Blog
Web Design/Development Services
The Novel’s Website
Hyper-Sensitivity to Movement: We don’t like to read in the modern age.
We don’t like to read in the modern age because it does not give us the tactile fixation enough; that we take for granted in Video games and digital technology. Ereaders however, present a good electronification of ‘print.’For instance, an e-reader by nature lends itself more to walk around the room with, which I find myself doing quite often. I find it very gratifyingly, as close to my senses as I am, I notice the subtle gradations and flows and stops and starts of sensory involvement. Next will be eye-rubbing tactility built in to contact lenses through which our eyes tactilely communicate with an eBook.
My total vision of the future, is dramatized in My novel: www.VesperHelioTropic.com
New Sci-Fi Short Story: ‘Springfield’ (Sample Only)
–This is the first chapter sample of my all-new VH short story! The only place you’re gonna find it: ‘Springfield’ here only now, and exclusively on WordPress!–
Springfield
i. Camille’s Providence
It is always the best state, to have time.
I’ve always noticed the disparity in the pant of a male. That triangle of space where it wouldn’t be on the ken doll version of him. The material meets the leg and caves in toward the crotch. What we don’t want to admit is a person under there. A less conforming entity. Than a doll anyway. Than a RealGurl. Or Boy.
I know that I’m only just waking. Up. I know that I am traveling here in the rivers of my dreams. There are no more dreams though. I’ve been sent to record it. From the human point of view.
RD AUTO Message: +-XXX, Fri 1, Octobre 2087 – Springfield, VA. Off-Line |
We are post history.
Too much to record. Style trumps, meaning trumps style, both are fused into one. But it is indeed recorded. We are indeed being recorded. Forever.
No way to bring it all to focus. Like how we overlook things. Like…
I am looking outside. There is light.
The white Sun melting through the trees.
Shards.
Gas clouds.
Air again, still.
A familiar quality to it. The windows, her windows…were dry. Sepia room, light splintering through the NeauFan blades above. She turned her head on her pillow, laying there, once again spread out on the bed, contemplating the ceiling with straying Eyes.
Her mom’s lawn was outside, gray-green through the unwashed windows. Always unwashed. No Neau Tech, can’t afford it. Crescent Hill Drive and Jenny’s house down the road a bit, but she couldn’t see it.
There was a place and time that was Springfield Mall. When the dream of CAMBIAN was still alive…
She thought of C-iiiNOBuN, CAMBIAN’S Official State Bakery, USC sponsored, of course. They’d taken it from the French style when the original Founding Father in the 20XX’s had still been alive.
NeauMusic was on, barely throwing a few piano notes into the air, thick with NCense and a dark ViewHorizon of a Penthouse in New York City.
She’d never been there.
The light from her dresser was creeping out into the darks of her room. Blues, blacks, muted whites, sheets. It was early morning. Her mom hadn’t gotten up yet. A stern, yet soft, almost melodic Voice from the RadioWalls came on in the background…
“The Learning Man Thinks The Learning Man Finds The Learning Man Does The Learning Man Runs The Learning Man Runs The Learning Man Thinks The Learning Man Does, The Learning Man Has, The Learning Man Can, The Learning Man Smiles The Learning Man Was, The Learning Man Wants, The Learning Man Struggles, The Learning Man Wishes, The Learning Man Gets, The Learning Man Finds, The Learning Man Wounds, The Learning Man Absorbs, The Learning Man Completes.”
“Planet Earth Is Blue,’ read a Neau brochure peeking out from…
“ArchStoneNeauDriven State Sponsored Apartment Housing Available!” the small magazine read. Then the UberVoice from her EmoReader began chanting a soft few phrases as if under Her breath…
BECOME A ‘LEARNING ENTITY’ AND TRANSFORM INTO A PROPERLY RETRIBALIZED ‘SOCIAL CITIZEN!’ – read a random generic CAMBIAN Ad on the back of a Jewish ZinePamphlet sitting on her bed with a few SoftSkynn TrannyDolls.
Jews themselves now a popular and recently official UFED UberGroup or ‘MicroGen.’ She didn’t care for ‘The Hebes’ really, though most of her friends when she was young were Jews before they all moved from her neighborhood, Crescent Forest.
“Let’s do this, okay, Victor, the Man of Total Involvement, of Total Awareness, absorbs everything around Him, the Running Man Runs, the Learning Man Learns, The Running Man Learns The Learning Man Runs…”
“Let’s do this, okay, Naomi: the WoMan of Total Involvement, of Total Awareness, absorbs everything around Her: the Running WoMan Runs, the Learning WoMan Runs, The Running WoMan Has And The Learning Man Does…”
The Running Man says this, about to do his morning Marathon. The CAMBIAN FIT WAT!
He repeats these lines to ‘Cast’ the NeauSpell over the Learning Software in his Brain to get better bicycle mileage. He knows that the wrong combination of wishing will get him the wrong muscle software configuration. This is a sposmodic discipline, the Life of the Learning Man.
He begins again…
“The Learning Man Thinks The Learning Man Finds The Learning Man Does The Learning Man Runs The Learning Man Runs The Learning Man Thinks The Learning Man Does, The Learning Man Has, The Learning Man Can The Learning Man Smiles The Learning Man Was The Learning Man Wants, The Learning Man Struggles, The Learning Man Wishes, The Learning Man Gets, The Learning Man Finds, The Learning Man Wounds, The Learning Man Aborbs, The Learning Man Completes.
Himself.”
“The Learning Woman Thinks The Learning Woman Finds The Learning Woman Does The Learning Man Runs The Learning Man Runs The Learning Man Thinks The Learning Man Does, The Learning Man Fucks The Learning Man Eats The Learning Man Has, The Learning Man Can The Learning Man Smiles The Learning Man Was The Learning Man Wants, The Learning Man Struggles, The Learning Man Wishes, The Learning Man Gets, The Learning Man Finds, The Learning Man Wounds, The Learning Man Aborbs, The Learning Man Completes. Himself.” The Learning Woman Runs, The Learning Woman Has, The Learning Man IS.”
Camille felt herself mezmorized by the Near-Hypnopaedic voice.
The Radio kept on…
“More Homeless SAVED from the streets by the CAMBIAN INFANTRY! Given Up? Join Up.”
Turned over in her bed. The white wash from the windows made her blink twice. “Oh shit, what am I gonna do about Kim?” Neasuea. Again. Fuck. She had to shit. “Gotta make bumper,” she exclaimed to her empty room. “Is there anything I can do?” asked Una. “Ah, wipe my ass.” There was no reply.
***
The wood of the bench kind of pinched her butt-cheeks when itty-bitty parts of her rear got caught between the slats. She was waiting for Blo-T, the next Transport out of Main-Line and into the gray area of now, Off-Line toward Springfield-Springfield. This was as opposed to the Oakland Community Springfield.
…Stay Tuned For More of ‘Springfield’ Tomorrow!
– ‘Springfield’ is an All-New “VESPER HELIOTROPIC CRYSTAL TURBINES SERIES” Short Story. –
– Vesper Heliotropic is a general teen/adult sci-fi ebook, paperback and hardcover, and is a Steampunk(ish) serial novel. The first written publication is OUT NOW VIA LULU.com on PAPERBACK and SPECIAL-JACKETED HARDCOVER, and is available for THE AMAZON KINDLE as well as BARNES AND NOBLES NOOK EBOOKS. VESPER HELIOTROPIC, THE CRYSTAL TURBINES SERIES GRAPHIC NOVEL IS ALSO OUT NOW ON FULL COLOR GLOSSY PAPERBACK! 46 Pages Full Color Interior and Exterior – ONLY $19.99! –
Vesper Heliotropic Book I. CRYSTAL TURBINES by Neal Aaron Cormier is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License
Vesper Heliotropic Book I. CRYSTAL TURBINES © Copyright 2011 Neal Cormier All Rights Reserved
Visit the Author’s Website – Neal Cormier Art
Overabundance of information is always the problem.
From a voice file:
This is my own observation. I think that it is inherently cerebral. At the moment. At the moment. I suppose that will change when we are through media able to visualize everything that’s in our heads as some kind of (no doubt) 3d display tech, in which the viewer is now participant for real, in a void or vacuum of a million balloons he must now sort out. But even then that’s cluttered, and we will need once again to sort it out, and once again, if not permanently, overabundance of information is the problem.
Because the Internet is basically text now, and will be inevitably voice dominant in the future (with text only as subsidiary form and filter) –we instinctively have an emphasis on words as filter bits in which we are funneled most of our information whether to each other in bed making love, chatting in our cars while talking to lost loves, or building a website; it is all involvement with the same medium, over and over. Looking at nothing but what are in reality, literally, flat planes through which our eyes pass through maybe a centimeter.
We will then gain the loss of perspective of the New Guinean Jungle tribesman, forever surrounded by the trees and no perspective, nothing literally beyond a meter or two. Who thought upon visiting as Joseph Campbell and McLuhan point out, thought the buffalo on the horizon were ants. Why? Because for some moments at least, I don’t know, maybe minutes, maybe a day or a week or many years, but the tribesman literally thought the buffalo, boar sized beasts the size of three men put together, were ants crawling somehow in their vision like flies to swat from their faces, and I don’t remember, maybe they did.
GIRL ANKLE TAGS
AWAKEN
The Profit Motive is Not Capitalism
Another very real equivocation that we deal with on a daily basis is the confounding of the profit motive with personally or collectively held values.
They are two different things.
The profit motive is also not always capitalism.
For instance in Ayn Rand’s view, (as this distinction tends to be absent from conservatism and even society at large) the profit motive and the motive to create and sustain one’s product or service are treated as one in the same. Hank Rearden in Atlas Shrugged even states that all he’s out for is to make money at one point. When, this is wholly incompatible with the rest of his actions which do things very often at ‘sacrifice’ of money for more spiritual and mental gains. This can be viewed in Wall Street 2, where Gordon Gekko realizes the values of human mutual aid in a very interestingly selfish way I think. Funny enough, even in the first one, Gekko’s values do indeed seem to be at one with his primary purpose: making money. But even he contradicts this in illustrating that “You don’t understand, its not the money, its the game.”
A show like Six Feet Under, on the other hand, is set in a philosophical landscape where individuals believe and know that the profit motive is not a valid primary aim for human life and hence this distinction is very well illustrated. The story is set from a small family owned funeral home business that’s struggling against their corporate competitor that is naturally only out to make money.
Very often the profit motive is one in the same with all one’s other values. Very often, it is not. In the times when it is not, one must never sacrifice the mind to the body. In order not to do this, one must understand this distinction. But in order to be a good objectivist in my own sense, one must act at a default that two are one, but at appropriate times when the spiritual and the material conflict, concrete particulars are to be expendable and not the tenets or desires of the mind.
(TANGENT: This is not to be misunderstood to mean that there are no materials that represent the mind’s work in terms of the object of what’s being valued. i.e. A painting purchased for one’s home reflects the conformity of the material with the mind in that one possesses it for spiritual reasons. If one’s painting is threatened to be burned or stolen, one might consider this a horrible thing in that they would not necessarily be able to replace that ‘mental-state,’ they can witness merely by looking above their couch. There are many other materials that do not possess the same congruence of the mental and the physical. These would include creature comforts and things built for more utilitarian use.
So when is it true that one is simply trying to ‘make money’ and living an absent life of hedonistic vacuousness? What drives them really, if I am asserting this to be incompatible to a rational mind? Who am I to say they aren’t living the most ideal life they’ve ever wanted?
Whether or not they are happy in this instance, is not in my view of objective concern since an organism can only value and be happy in terms of what it knows, and hence, happiness in the immediate sense is relative to what we know and are used to, and this is what makes the issue of personal happiness more complex. One is not happy in the higher overarching sense of a rational person if one is consistently limited to one domain. this is too large a subject to go on with here, but I should hyper link this later on and make another blog out of the subject of the margin of relativity in ethics.)
This was certainly true of Howard Roark, in The Fountainhead who would never divided his spiritual and material values.
Another example is in how society has fallen into the same equivocation as Karl Marx in believing that the only alternative to capitalism, is communism when had he had made a distinction between the profit motive and (ethics) values. It didn’t occur to me for instance that a revisionism of capitalism is even possible. i.e. a capitalism where good work is valued above financial gain.
Since we live in a society that is wholesale about the abdication and surrender of all values to the profit motive, it is hence, very easy I think if one tries to know this distinction well.
This is all coming out of my former view that the profit motive is always in some way at one with one’s values since making money is linked directly to survival. What we forget is that there are different kinds of survival. And that there is mental-spiritual survival as well as physical. I offer as evidence to my argument all of the daily teen suicides in which the mental-spiritual mechanism (philosophy) has been abandoned and in its place, now rests the sole reason for living: to make money. And since this is (I think) invalid to human existence being logical and volitional based, the profit motive cannot be the overriding priority of life, merely one of them.
The same alleged dichotomy is said to exist between selfish and selflessness. When, how can anything chosen by the self, be selfless if it is or has been indeed chosen by oneself? Indeed I hold this to be true. However, I believe that altruism as a component to philosophy is a value. That being established, selflessness does not exist, only two different kinds of values and two different resulting kinds of people with different ways of life.
Unlike the Objectivist view and very much like the generic view of objective philosophy and what I think it would hold true in terms of it, I believe that true altruists are people that derive most of their values and existence from social interaction. That being said, I think that altruism as a philosophy for man, is bunk. That is, altruism unlike perhaps republican democracy, cannot possible act as an all-encompassing philosophy. Notice however, that neither can egoism, only objectivism in this general sense.
I therfore believe that altruism is not the most efficient form of human existence when it is treated as the primary arbiter of one’s ethics. I therefore believe that though altruism is and must be a component of a rational enlightened selfishness, it is a disaster as the pilot being that social interaction is merely one dimension of a complete and therefore rational existence.
NEW SCI-FI NOVEL EXCERPT: VESPER HELIOTROPIC
“Rachael!” shouted her mom’s high pitched voice from downstairs.
“Yessssss, mother! It’s Camille now by the way!”
There was no answer. And then…
“Don’t forget your make-up!” her mom’s faint voice could now barely be made out.
“Ugh,” Rachael said to herself.
“Okay!” she yelled back, vein and limply.
Rachael sat upright on the edge of her bed, her widish butt planted Indian style. There were disheveled bra straps under…Read More
Neal Cormier 