Posts Tagged With: philosophy

Heaven & Hell Are in the Mind

An Essay on Psychological Integration From Within a Fractured Culture

As some of you know, I’ve had my battles with addiction and personal demons. We share the struggles of life, though they take on different forms.

Where substances of abuse are concerned, the last decade of my life has been lived in tension, twisting between states of attachment and avoidance. When I give myself fully to self-indulgence, I become controlled by my passions. When I completely negate my cravings and avoid the triggers, I am still being controlled by my addiction from the opposite side: aversion.

A guitar string is tuned to make music; I feel as though this tension pulls my soul taught, creating sound that gives meaning to suffering. I am no longer addicted to the substances, it’s the tension and cycle of inner conflict I have begun to crave. I fear that if I lose it, I will lose myself, my ambitions, my inspiration. Losing the tension between personal Heaven and personal Hell, I feel as though the world will simply dissolve.

To become free of this cycle, I address the underlying cause, starting by questioning the culture I identify with.

The general western mythos is one of heroism: the knight slays the dragon. Hercules removes a Hydra head and two appear in its place. In battle, our hero learns that he can stop new heads from sprouting by cauterizing the stump. He cuts off each head, one-by-one, burning the stumps until one remains. This final head is the root demon. It is immortal.

Since Hercules cannot kill the final head, he removes and buries it, banishing it into an Earthly prison, where it still lives to this day.

Christian mythology approaches the devil in a similar way: you go to keep the Devil down in the hole. If you remember the story, God creates the Angels. His favorite one, the most perfect, is guilty of a cardinal sin: spiritual pride. This Angel goes astray, much like the mind of a man driven to greed by material excess. He forgets his place in the whole, rejects the natural order, and creates for himself (and all others who follow his example, including a good many who don’t) a world of suffering.

Our culture is born from this mythology and as much as we try to separate from it, it has laid the foundation for our cultural understanding. By way of cause and effect, our history shapes the world we see today. We can choose science & atheism, but we cannot deny that our roots play a large part in our overall cultural behavior.

In the mind of a schizophrenic patient, there can be multiple personalities dissociated from one-another, yet they are all operating inside one mind. Analogously, Angels and Demons are all aspects in the mind of God.

Just as our conscious, subconscious, and unconscious states are operating from the same mind, the Angels and Demons are no more separate from God than a drop of water is from the ocean.

I am not giving fault to God. I am simply advocating for us to respond to the conflict with empathic action. Consider that God requires our help as much as we require His. Consider that it is our duty to feed the Devil not what he wants, but what God needs of Him, and what the Devil needs of himself. We are able to be transform our demons and integrate these fragments of ourselves into one complete, harmonious mind.

This separation of Lucifer from God causes the duality of Heaven and Hell. God banishes His faulty components to lower realms, the realm of subconscious & unconscious, where destructive behavior and primordial impulses wreak havoc.

In this same way, we cast our demons away when we encounter them. We repress and suppress our darkest impulses. From this darkness, they can wreak havoc upon our lives.

Ever wonder why you get triggered randomly? Why lose your temper? Why you ruin promising relationships? Why you seek to numb your feelings just so you can get through your shift at work?

It’s simply because we choose not to be conscious of our darkness. We turn the lights off, pull the shades, and numb ourselves.

When we become aware of our darkness, our demons & dragons, we can begin to heal & reintegrate them, resolving their conflict, forgiving them, transforming them, and placing them back into Heaven’s kingdom (into the realm of conscious understanding.)

If Hercules had resolved to tame the Hydra, he could’ve put it to much better use. If God chooses to look empathically inside Lucifer, to see himself suffering in a world of hellfire, and then resolve the conflict and welcome Lucifer back home, the fracture between worlds can be healed. The Devil wants to be better than God, but what he needs is trust and humility. How would the Devil feel if he were trusting/trusted and humble? Understood & loved, at peace & whole, and at last, dissolved.

Hell’s Canyon would no longer be filled with cries of agony; it will be embalmed in a calm & cool silence, like a soft desert wind. In this same way, our own peace of mind can be initiated.

The world as we know it rests upon this tension. This unifying of conscious and unconscious will mark the end of life as we know it. It’s a step toward power, but also a step into the vast unknown.

This fear of the unknown keeps most of here, cycling between states of addiction and aversion, depression and elation, war and peace. I often fail to transcend my own force of habit for fear I will dissolve completely without the tension. No sound will be heard, no world will exist without this suffering I cling to. Both Heaven and Hell must renounce their bitter feud; it’s not enough to consider only one side.

When we can resolve our own inner opposition, we can resolve our inner conflict en masse. I expect the outer results would show themselves as a much different world than the one we know today.


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Mock & Awe (Or Instant Gratifuckation For a Facebook Generation)

(Rough cut)


If misery loves company

Suffering deserves a parade

Can you believe your life isn’t butter?

Mine’s fuckin’ marmalade


Got food, got water, got clothes, got ends

Got words, got time, bad jokes, good friends

Holdin’ our hats straight into the winds-

We’re sellin’ fame to the nameless and faith to the faceless


Cus blood is raceless like

New-Agers are baseless

Run my tongue through empty places

In teeth, pockets, ear-holes, & faces


Want true religion? Buy my book, forget thyself!

You’re sick, you’re battered, you need my help!

Trust no words & pursue true wealth

Keep reading more for a ladder into Hell


People won’t like you forever

And Deepak Chopra can’t make you better

Positive thoughts will change with the weather

Hang tough, remember: pain beget pleasure


Follow the threads, unravel the sweater

Religion aims to negate sense pleasure

While ad execs tryin’ to get to know you better

I’ll be knittin’ a shield if the weather gets wetter


A million ways to get paid and slain,

Punished by time, fines, and canes

Whipped in the gallows and tricked on the plains

Illusion makes slaves from both the sick and sane


Loss found himself cheated by Gain

Just as Abel was murdered by Cain

Praise was accosted and accused by Blame

While Infamy slandered Fame’s good name


Follow the muff, and swallow the bluff,

They say, “death is emptiness, life is hollow ‘n stuff

Fuck for a thrill, better live & shoot to kill

Life is a boot made for walkin’, footed by a physical bill!”


Advertisements wherever we go

Coulda traded bitcoin for a house in Oswego

I put all my savings on a Hail Mary free throw

While a little distracted from TV static free flows


How many likes to get to the center of an ego?

One, two, three, leggo my eggo & pass the chorizo

Blame chemtrails, chemfood, chemdrugs & tv shows

Cheap Neanderthal thrills for the man from Encino

Before we go, some questions burning up my loins:

How does a nation under God divorce its coin?

How come the news makes everyone paranoid?

Why does post-industry man seem to destroy?

How many dimes dropped before a banker’s fined?

How much vegan coke gets a burner high?

How much acid turns your problems wise?

How much medicine heals a sick twisted mind?


Tighten up the space and loosen the form

Our peasant hopes and dreams seem to feed worms

Persistently, our ideas spread like seeds on fallow farms

Resilient and firm, our love carries no harm.

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Alpha Beta Questions

Extroverted pick-up artists: have you found a lasting satisfaction? 
Introverted closet-freaks: does self-imposed monogamy have you wondering “what if?” 
Alpha-humans: are there enough notches on your bedpost? have you found a peak that is high enough? Do you cherish the memories of past triumph and mourn their passing? Are you living a legacy or leaving it?
Beta-humans: Do you accept your current conditions? Do you feel that quality overrides quantity? Do you find yourself settling for any vista the mountain has to offer while others climb to the peak? Does competition leave you feeling defeated? How do you compensate?
Free-thinkers: do you feel that these concepts undermine your innate liberated state? Recognizing that something small can only exist beside something tall & someone loses only when another wins, how do you maintain your detached balance?

(Warning: mundane philosophical observations ahead)
There is no virtue in demonstrating competition. 

Practice is akin to a sharpening stone.

True competition is born from necessity. 

Only the resilient & adaptable will endure true competition.
Whether you fuck for sport or fondle for love, fight for glory or kill to survive, we all experience victory and defeat. 
In this way, our experiences are uniquely bonded: the predator and the victim are one as “all life feeds on life to live.” 
As physical beings, we fuck & fight our way through time ’til death while a weird starry-eyed serpent chokes down its own tail.

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Who is Society?

Who is society? (A Subjective Coalescence with the Living Object of Society)


While contemplating the concept of society, I often forget to consider myself a member. Society is a living, breathing, and constantly changing aggregate of economies and entities. Forgetting this, I envision myself as an observer, somewhere high above the petri dish of humanity. In doing so, I sterilize all learning with the immature habit of disconnected reflection. I avoid the dust of the world so as not to get my hands dirty.

I don’t want to take responsibility for the ill effects of industrialization & globalization. Dirt is inevitable. I’ll effortlessly purchase throwaway cell phones, receive goods in plastic containers, burn fossil fuels for travel, & spend US Dollars.

In avoiding major sources of societal expansion, my sense of pride tells me I am making a difference. Through this feeling of pride, there arises an idea: I’m not like them. I am not better or worse but I am certainly different from them. This type of thinking brings separation with it. Embracing separation from our environment denies a fundamental law: nothing exists separately.

This very idea of the rugged individual, I believe, is responsible for a dangerous disconnect. The individualist diverges their identity with the organized human form, creating a dualistic separation of organism and environment. This dualism leads to avoidance of the tough issues of life, mainly ethical & philosophical.

“I love man not the less, but nature more.” Lord Byron

Industrialized humanity has abandoned wild nature in favor of human nature. Human nature is a part of nature. I consider it to be inhibited, suppressed, in denial. Extending this to myself, I realize that I too, am those things. In me grows a resistance to accept the ultimate nature of society as it is, here & now. Living in a world of potentials and ideals, I sometimes miss the pragmatic counterweight of realism.

I feel a restless spite toward civilized humanity; at odds with some greater human entity. Denying benefits in favor of losses, focusing on ugliness rather than beauty, giving in to self-loathing before recognizing self-approval. If I am to take responsibility for my membership within “this”, how am I to feel? Rejecting society, living on the fringes is only an avoidance of the real problem: how do we cope with ourselves?

Through quiet acceptance, a door beyond intellect opens. Emotional states become unreliable. Just as thoughts, feelings are mere relative responses, not to be confused with ultimate nature. Soon the thought might arise: I am society.

All these things I am, in an ever-expanding fashion as all forms consistently dissolve into space. I am ultimately inexpressible. I feel myself filled with life, I feel myself decay. I see it everywhere, inside and out.

All mammals arising from the womb of a beautiful female, we share these experiences. I am not separate from life function & the cessation of life function and neither are you. We share this and we are this.

None of these ideas belong to anyone, as much as character doesn’t belong to anyone. They are collective reflections of influences, both inward & outward. They are gifts from society, just as much as our biological makeup is a gift from nature.

As a member of humanity & its greater idea of society, we are inseparable from the discoveries & failings of our members. We are able to share (or deny) these discoveries just as we contribute to the overall catalogue of evolution & decay.

We are these ideas. We are this ignorance. We are these inventions. We are this destruction. We are society.

“You never change things by fighting the existing reality. To change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete.” R. Buckminster Fuller

Categories: Essays | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

In Memoriam of 2016

In memoriam of 2016.


You were a year. From start to finish, your sum is the increment of time occupying a calculable distance across space. You gave me the feeling of certainty. You convinced me that time is tangible.

Between you and me, you weren’t a bad year.

It helps me convert this collective mass of moments into a solid human aggregate. Put simply: I like to anthropomorphize the years.

Your name was Joey. You had a mole on your left cheek & a pencil-thin mustache. Your hair was parted in the middle where you’re been examining your hair loss every morning. You liked honey mustard on your hotdogs & you’d only masturbate on Sundays, for discipline. You had two pet mole rats & you’d feed them Ritz crackers and ice cream sometimes. You had a nervous habit of itching your belly button and smelling the lint. It smelled like crab cakes made with fake crab. You weren’t a bad man, but you had some ill-intentions that were well-disguised beneath a propensity for tipping 25% gratuity on lunch & dinner. You’d take food off your neighbors plate when he wasn’t looking. You were perpetually 10 minutes late for work and you lied to your dentist about flossing.


You spent your last day waiting quietly in the rain at a bus stop. You were wearing a wool blazer that had gradually been soaked through a leak in the skylight. The bus schedule had been changed without notice. You waited until hypothermia killed you blue.

Now that you’re over, I’m not so sure what I’ll do with this old calendar.

Even worse, now that you’re gone I’m not so sure about time.

Where does time live when there is no calendar to keep tabs on it?

I can’t get another 2016, Joey. I just can’t.
I spent a lot of time in 2016 forgetting about time.

You know what I accomplished? The cells in my body continued to grow & decay in strict relation to my surrounding environment. I observed these processes in unison. It sounded often like music, which I enjoyed halfway despite my immense boredom at classical arrangements.
There’s a lot I want to say to you now that you’re gone, Joey.
I wrote this poem for you:

They say that every rose has it’s thorn,
And every shape has its form.

Just like every clock has its hand
And every native lives on land.

Every candle has a wick
And every prostitute charges, even for a lick.

Every square has four corners, every circle has none
Each day lives through darkness, just like space holds every sun.

As a relative concept, time is pretty cool. It makes sense.

It’s something I can read. It lives in shadows and it’s written mostly on the wall.
2016’s abrupt end left a lot of questions lingering.

In an expanding universe, does time expand?

If so, do our clocks compensate for that expansion or does the watch shop sell expansion packs?

These things, I fear, we’ll never know by thinking.

So long & thanks for all the dust, 2016.

I’ll think of you during my next few bowel movements as the meat of the year filters out my intestines & swirls gradually down the porcelain highway to Shittsville.

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Not a Virus

Whispering love upon the wind
no mouth calls upon deaf ears
I find myself here, under broken moons
talking too much, speaking too soon
wondering where they all go
after wandering astray?
am I my brothers keeper
or is he just my CEO?
Higher reasoning doesn’t sell much anymore
everyone wants gritty contentment
and salary assurance, freedom from fear
love makes for a nice soundtrack
sipping bourbon, sipping scotch
she fades away into complacency
‘cus nobody wants to watch their roses wilt
I can’t forget what I don’t understand
no turn goes unstoned while I’m here
roll these papers up and toss ’em to the fire
hoping some will get the smoke they need
and others will find the peace to bleed
open eyes see open wounds,
I am the air on your blood
I am contagious

but not a virus

i’m sorry, too

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Phish & Dualism- A Philosophical Analysis of One Point on the Jam Scene

Phish & Dualism- A Philosophical Analysis of One Point on the Jam Scene
(ranting on the subject of Phish)

Music is played for it’s own sake; never made to arrive, it is enjoyed fully in transit. Most of my perspective consists of opinions, so it isn’t relevant to those with opposing opinions.
This is my perspective/misguided perception, depending on where you stand.
I am not attempting to convince; I seek to understand, which is likely where I fail. There’s my disclaimer.

Phish… let me put it this way: the fulfillment that most lyrical music gives me seems to be absent from Phish. The music has soul & cosmic truth at certain moments; it reflects something very high & inspired, yet the lyrics fail to represent that level of clear translation.
The thing that confuses me in the utmost is what Phish represents: what is the message/philosophy of Phish?
Can anyone explain this to me?

Here’s what I know:
They are a continuation of the jam scene that the Dead helped to popularize. They inherited a piece of established culture.
They are upholding the original ideals of the traveling music fan:
a long, trippy, mutative piece of entertainment for the chemically-induced dancers & listeners, from state-to-state, cross country.

Here is where I get lost:
whereas the Grateful Dead has a connection with “The Ultimate”, as it were, Phish seems to dwell within the relative. I mean this purely in a philosophical sense.

My understanding of art is that it comes not FROM man, but THROUGH man.
Art, where thought is concerned, is an abstract formation of patterns beyond our normal realm of linear conception.
It usually evokes feeling instead of thinking, yet it is still comprised of thought-stuff.

The Grateful Dead (and more importantly, Robert Hunter) center their gaze upon the stars, using (most of) the lyrics and music to point at the full moon (in the Zen Koan sense).
Where is Phish pointing?





What sort of vibrations are they creating/sustaining/destroying?
On one finger, it is bringing people together, through love.
Love of music. Love of experience. Love of fellowship.
I respect that. But when I go deep into the roots of what the music actually is, and is saying, I find no ultimate basis.

For me, anything that obscures my attention from that full moon, from ultimate understanding, is engaging in division and confusion.
I sez to myself: let it be. Stop analyzing so much.

A lot of music fits the bill for these accusations.
Listen to the radio: its riddled with pop homages to samsara.
But something in me won’t let it go where Phish is concerned.
There is a certain cosmic representation that Phish receives and upholds. Put simply: I feel that they are misrepresenting reality, even though they have a certain responsibility to uphold the cosmic energetic union between band and audience; between dancer and player.

Phish represents a traveling lifestyle that caters to psychedelic experience (“mind manifesting”)… so what type of mind is Phish manifesting with all that wide-open awake energy? I’ve taken chemicals at numerous Phish shows and honestly tried to feel their resonance. Wherever they are bound, I cannot recognize.

Phish isn’t just some band on the radio; people spend much of their time, efforts, and finances on this energetic force. Is Phish reenforcing conscious evolution or sustaining confusion & distraction? I suppose it’s up to the individual listener to be responsible of their own consciousness.
I just wish the scenes weren’t so indicative of a culture at odds with itself.
Furthur/Dead scene is no better, as we all know.
Just go to the lot and watch the spectacle. It’s no less an animal kingdom than any other place.

I am disappointed and feeling sort of cheated by my own culture, which is why I no longer strictly identify with it.

There is division & there is unity.
As such, there are two choices that arise in our lives:
we can either strive for sensory gratification or we can strive for ultimate perfection & evolution. I work to align with the latter, and choose to surround myself with other sources of the same.

Outward vs inward
Materialism vs spiritualism
Life sure gets complicated before it gets simple.

Thats okay. Burn this post & carry on, folks.

Jerry oughta hit the Big Wheel for a spin and show back up soon… we need another like him if you ask me.

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