viernes, 3 de octubre de 2008


Tristan Burden
Eat. Sleep. Shit. Fuck. Die. While the Hindu's assert Ohm as the Noise of the Universe, our ontologial reality shifts towards the ritual of exercising these drives, the noise of whose execution is the Noise of Our Universe. The mammalian. The Monkey-Queen-King. Clothed, fed, and ready to shit on the planet that sustains its ill, awkward, habits. At the expense of itself, its children's futures, and its own super-powered, limitlessly potentialised and woefully underrecognised supreme organ: it's brain. Where everything happens, where life is spilt onto a screen of incredible beauty, eloquence and colour. As a slave to the circuits, the human is incomplete. A jigsaw waiting to have it's last crucial pieces placed, so that a whole perfect picture is arrived at. With a jigsaw, it is often easy enough to guess the final image depicted, but with the fully realised human there are only hints – pictures, words, sounds and sensations barely match the coming together of all the parts into a seemless whole, and no other communication beyond direct experience can lay the final pieces to rest. Incomplete, the human is a fleshy machine, running under the command of whim and a false consciousness of importance. The Philosopher's Stone is glyphed in Alchemy as the final piece of the jigsaw, placed in the heart of the human and catapulting the monkey into the god.

Yet there seems a crucial step missing in these seemingly easy, throw-away and bob's-your-uncle processess. The slavery weadhere to, slaves of our basic circuits governing the autonomy of our nervous and respiratory systems, and our emotions which guide us through a maze of choices, maintaining the illusion 'as if' we actually possessed a choice at all. And there is another problem, besides waking up to these drives. The problem of the many and varied other monkey's who see fit to hijack these circuits for their own gain and profit, at the expense of the individuals speedy realisation of god-hood. Monkey Cult 1. Illuminati 0. That is until people see through a simple set of con-tricks, and begin to take action against Sleeping. Illuminati 1. Monkey Cult 100,000,000 souls.

Let's begin. We have a way to travel, and such delights when we reach the end. If any ideology be adopted at all, it must be perhaps a streamlined Optimism. No utopia romanticism, but a step-ladder for a bold view over a double-dealing and twisted hedge of lies. Let's clarify what happens when capital hijacks these drives for Profit, and instills with the human an extra set of shadow dirves, relative to these others, but not a necessity for survival? Then we have modern consumerist civilisation – a body of socio-biological nerve-complexes moving towards the same orbit of production-consumption-waste. We have encomomic battery syndrome, and a subsequent need to find a cure for this disease, and move towards another orbit.

We wake and we clean oursleves, so that we do not offend other monkeys. We go to work and obey, sure to not offend any monkeys on the way. Just incase we do offend any monkeys, we have guilt and shame attached to all of our emotional responses when a monkey goes blah-blah-blah in our face – or a fight-back reflex if we decide that, no, actually I am top monkey. We make ourselves look better for the other monkeys so that we may appear to be from a good lineage and produce good children. Almost everything we buy we do it with reinforced brainwashing that it will make us a better monkey, less likely to be punished and challenged by another monkey and more likely to get sex from an attractive monkey so we can have monkey children who have an innate potential to be top monkey, as long as we push them to succeed in everything we ever failed at when we were younger monkeys. And all the while we buy more useless and inconsequential shit that other monkeys have told us will make us better monkeys through the hijacking of our innate survial drives, waking, working, sleeping and eating-shiting-fucking-dying in between – all of our lives chisled away around the production of capital for other monkeys so that they can be comfortable top monkeys and we can always dream to be just like them because, provided we follow those instructions, and hell, surely they know best, we can only become a better monkey through doing all of these things and buying this useless crap which the next door neighbour will look upon with envy and instantly acknowledge that you are top monkey, until they go and out and get something better.

And so the wheel turns – but now we have a double samsara - a duty to unplug oursleves from the artificial monkey programme (suits and boots and nice cars and obey and don't offend or upset the people who give you money and remember to spend most of it on shit you don't need) to the natural samsara of general human sentience, whereby a monkey can actually be duped into another wheel in the first place, so not the ideal place to be.

While we are running around, devoting the vast core of our energy to the production of capital and the sustanence of a false economy created by the very finite and laughable 'powers' of financial institutions, we are only an economic battery. We do not live. We produce capital, or attempt to, or endlessly buy shit, producing someone else capital. This is Kali-Yuga. This is the hell we must purge and wake up to before we tackle the other samsara. Marx coined the term False Consciousness for the Economic Battery Syndrome, the first samsara, and the ancients coined the term Karma for the perpetuation of the other: best translated as momentum – the hamster wheel we're perpetually running in without realisation that if we mereley stopped, it would stop turning, and we could step off and drop free-fall into the void.

We tend towards death. Birth is fatal, life is spent obssessed with escaping the invitable, second-guessing its immenance, while the average participant in 'humanity' actively courts it – through the mass-consiousness molds of consumerism, film and television and internet consumption – all sharing the same myths and reaching towards the same Alpha centralised brain-waves after day in and day out participating in the generation of capital. This is death – death of the imagination and the productive instinct – all productivity/energy is invested in living as an economic battery. We court death while we imagine escaping it, symbolically chasing youth because in our cul-de-sac psychology, youth equates with longevity – but we cultivate masks – we are happy with surface illusions, because our minds, numbed as they are by the Economic battery syndrome, cannot reach beyond the surface – we escape time with ourselves, replacing it with the psychic junkmail of media and the wheel of consumption, just so that we do not have to confront the lurking horrors of the unconscious and the implications of its unbridled producing into our manifest world, of the possible host of Truth, or at least the existential reflection of the maimed animals we have become. Maimed by the endless hamster skittering wheel of economy, maimed by the battery acid narcosis that participating in the West amounts to.

H.P. Lovecraft's Cthulu mythos is a wonderful metaphor for this lurking horror – the dweller of the deep, that which is dead cannot die, in eternal sleep – a monster of chaos that will enslave humanity – or at least from an ontic perspective – from the outside looking in – once we surrender to chaos, to Cthulu and the Great Old Ones of Titanic ancient drives hidden in the modern age by the manufactured desire of Empire, we are autonomous – and without the manufactured and implanted false desires of the Market, we are merely a primal froth of becoming, whose only instinct will be towards the Void. If it is the Void we want, how we can we best go about getting it?

Did not the Buddha abbreviate existence to a Hegelian triunity of being-consciousness-bliss? What does he know? But if we think about it, what are we doing with our Eat-Sleep-Shit-Fuck-Die when we can have so much better? We have a human brain, capable of far more than we're exposed to in our to day perpetuation of the economy. Buddha glyphed sentience as Sat-chit-ananda. Being-consciousness-bliss. It is only through the correct manipulation of our brains that we can acknowledge this. And first we must breath. Sit down in a comfortable position. If anyone is around who is likely to disturb you, tell them to go away and leave you alone, then unplug your phone and other buzzing humming gadgets that keep you plugged into a false world. If you're travelling on a bus, or surrounded by strangers, it doesn't matter, nothing they think about what you're doing is important. If they disturb you, tell them to go away and leave you alone.
Time to yourself, with silence, is an important pre-requisite for success in operation wake the monkey. It's vital to get used to the sound of your own heartbeat, and the sound of your many voices. Gain experience of interior silence, where we begin to taste the flavour of the One True Orbit. Reality is a series of choices and sense-judgements made while the majority of the mind is fast-asleep. To wake it is to court a far greater quality of experience, less infor
med by half-asleep choices. To sit and count breath, long inhales and long exhales, taps us into the currents of the body, and stills the emotions. While our emotions are manipulated on such a grand scale on a daily basis, it surely makes sense to gain personal countrol over them, so we can as much as is possible, choose our own emotional responses over the endless noise of the instinctual circuits.
Inhaling and exhaling is the base rythmn of a human life, so dropping down to the essence of our sentience has an immediate feedback into where we live our life from. If we can begin to live our life from our core, we initiate a more authentic relationship with ourselves and the world. True Will and Tao reside within these experiences of being.As much as there are myriads of distractions taking us away from our One True Orbit, Bondage remains self-inflicted and self-perpetuated. Realising this simple truth oils the discipline required for regular esoteric work - rendering the machinery of enlightenment to take its smoothest course.The course is rarely that smooth, but at least it's not a lie.

No hay comentarios: