Archive for October, 2009

Intoxicated, part 1

Thursday, October 29th, 2009

Young teenager, with unpleasant experiences in daily routine, seeks psychic stimulation. Imagination and music and the cracks in suburbia revealing glimpses of weirdness make for an enticing luminosity. How to enter these spaces, where the mind is aglow and able to perceive and feel from an alternative coordinate system? The young teenager here, he goes from sniffing markers and holding his breath to inhaling rubber cement and liquid paper*. The waves of tingles that move through his body and the accompanying chemical changes that rush through his brain seem to indicate a breach in his immediate reality and the existence of another dimension of experience. He and a similar-minded friend soon acquire the guidance of an older, knowledgeable and mysterious, fellow named Seth. Seth instructs the two boys on the way of inhaling glue. They sit against apartment buildings, tucked away behind bushes, with tubes of model cement and the plastic bags from the supermarket produce section, learning the rudiments of vapor inhalation. They practice with amounts of glue, how it’s spread into the bag, how to hold the bag and with how much capacity in it, and how to work it with the other hand to establish a good rhythm between the lungs filling the bag and the squeezing down of the bag to fill the lungs. And through the experiences of this practice they psychically move into another dimension, or at least psychically move out of the one they were otherwise in.

Our young teenager also experiments with alcohol and sessions of heavy drinking. From the earliest of these he goes through intense episodes of falling-down drunk, foggy and ill voyages into blackouts. Soon he is drinking fairly regularly, beer mostly but also wine or wine coolers, and it is during these drunken times that he also acquires the habit of smoking cigarettes. Alcohol is an easy fix because it is so prevalent, even to a minor, and it enjoys such widespread acceptance and support. It might even be said that the path to mindless drunkenness is encouraged or can seem normal.

And so, the teenage years go by, filled with days getting mad drunk and smoking, tobacco as well as a great many clove cigarettes, and occasionally mixing another substance into the equation such as marijuana or cocaine. But still, the special relationship between our teenage user and volatile chemicals is a deep one and continues on, whether it be by inhalation of model cement or liquid paper from a bag while parked alone in a secluded place, or from bag with an intoxicating spray in a storage room at place of employment, or slumped over a sink in the graphic arts class pouring lacquer thinner into running hot water…

Oh, the beautiful, sunny, breezy, southern California suburban days that float by, with these boys sniffing up tubes of glue, sitting in a car at a community shopping center (where the necessary supplies were readily available), listening to Pornography by The Cure, and floating in and out of vaporous inebriated states of sensation! How the outside world would change, while their insides would turn strange and grow numb! After some hours of filling the car with dangerous vapors, one of them or both of them might want a cigarette, and while pulling one out and handling the lighter, they would giggle perversely at the thought that the car might be so full of fumes that a spark would ignite the whole thing into a ball of flame! Then they would flick the lighters, and even though there was no explosion in the suburban shopping center that day, there was a couple of boys aware of that cool and noxious feeling one gets when commingling nicotine-laced smoke with toxic glue fumes in a being with numb body and mind peeking through one of those weird and ephemeral ruptures in mundane reality.

*These, and as far as I know All the substances mentioned herein, were of a different constitution when the events depicted in this writing took place. The events themselves might in fact never have occurred, and this could be merely a piece of fiction. In any event, the author is not advocating in any way the use of any mentioned or related substances.

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Perceiving the Surreal

Sunday, October 25th, 2009

I became interested in the ideas of surrealism, and its aim of enabling practitioners to escape the control of reason and the imperatives of the moral order, to become mediums of a wider self. Surrealism suggests using the experiences of dreams, automatic texts, playful and unrestrained investigations, and questioning the prevailing social standards and tastes, in the attempt to minimize and heal the fragmentation of consciousness and to restore more of the totality of a human being’s lived experience. It proposes that the true function of thought can only be attained in the absence of control exerted by reason, and beyond moral and aesthetic preoccupations.

It was revolutionary for attacking and attempting to overcome the crude and restrictive divisions and barriers of Western thought and logic, which operates in dutiful procedures according to clock-time and social conventionalism and protocol. It wanted to lay waste to the ideas of family, nation, and religion, and stated that “there is no room for compromise.” The subject in these previous sentences not only refers to surrealism, but also the thinking of Andre Breton, the main proponent of surrealism. Andre Breton was calling for a widening of the notion of reality, so that our concept of the Real would not suffer a logical reduction down to the simple and mundane, the practical and observable, but rather so our conception of the Real could expand to include the dream, the subconscious, flights of fancy, musings of the absurd, and other strange and marvelous imaginings. If we understand this then we are filled with the knowledge that reality is permeated with imaginative, transformative power. The Real is always open to what is unknown, mysterious, and not commensurate with rationality, and it offers outlets to the marvelous, to dreams of love, ecstasy, revery, to parades of bizarre superstitions, to a space that can be explored with the fanciful play of thought tracing the extraordinary and inexplicable movements of fantasy and dream.

Surrealism calls for the reassertion of Imagination, and a transformation of the World. A practitioner of surrealism or a surrealist is one who makes a piece of writing or artwork or related artifact, or performs an act of some kind, which can cause a kind of surprise, a convulsive shock between the piece/work and the spectator. This convulsive shock (which may, I think, be very subtle, almost imperceptible) originates from the perception/reception of a current of transformative power, a transformative power which moves between the piece and the spectator’s consciousness and enables her or him to see beyond some barrier, to imagine a larger realm. The current or charge of the piece is borne from a kind of desire or turmoil on the part of the surrealist to change or enchant, to affect, the spectator and the world. And the larger realm that the charge points to is surreality or the surreal.

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Thought on Shamanism

Tuesday, October 13th, 2009

I was to be attracted (or lured, compelled) down a path of creativity and expression, a path of art. In many ways I felt that the role I began to explore as an artist had connections to that of a shaman. Some of the aspects of shamanism, as I understand them, are:

The shaman serves a vital role in the community or social group, but lives on its periphery. He or she is a link between a tribe of people and the surrounding, occult forces that the social group dwells within. These forces are part of an All, an encompassing primal unity that provides a net of power or flow of knowledge and support for the people, but go mostly misunderstood or unperceived because of their hidden/occult nature. There is great risk and inevitable hardship when a person or people stray too far from these forces, because being in ignorance or at odds with these forces means being ignorant or going against the major guiding forces in life: this is a self-defeating and destructive way. The role of the shaman is to provide a link between the tribe and these forces, to access some of the power in these forces for the people, and to keep the people in a harmonious relationship with these greater, immersive forces so that they may be connected to a source of health and well-being. Their function is not necessarily one of the pragmatic and empirical tasks which satisfy the daily needs of the tribe, but a way to provide ecological stability and meaning, and to keep the people connected to the larger sphere of life and the forces pervading the environment.

To understand the tribe as an element under or within the umbrella of the world and its guiding forces, and the role of the shaman as the handle/pole connecting the umbrella to the tribe, is to understand the importance and significance of this function. It may be easy for a society that situates human production and intelligence as the pinnacle of nature, and science and rationality as its supreme methods, to dismiss these ideas or talk of them as superstitions of primitive peoples. But for a people who feel they exist within nature and that forces in nature are more powerful than themselves, great value will be placed on one who has a special or intercessory relationship with these forces.

It should also be noted that in order to achieve these aims of providing a link to a greater natural source of power the shaman must undergo a dissolution of his or her own separate and autonomous ego, and a commingling with other outside spirits and unseen forces.

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My Favorite Movie Growing Up

Wednesday, October 7th, 2009

The movies that came out and affected me the most when I was a teenager include: Apocalypse Now! (1979), Alien (1979), Excalibur (1981), Blade Runner (1982), The Wall (1982), The Thing (1982), Dune (1984), Brazil (1985), Blood Simple (1985), Blue Velvet (1986), Angel Heart (1987), and Withnail and I (1987).

This was a science fiction and fantasy thriller with neo-noir and black comedic elements, the story of which went something like this:

A divine mark or calling is placed on our young protagonist’s head, and he is wakened from a deep sleep by a techno-magician with a kind of militaristic power who assigns a mission to hunt down an insane Other of terrifying proportions. Along the way the characters that come in contact with or surround our protagonist become possessed with an alien mutation that drives them on a blood-lusting rampage of chaotic destruction. Our hero is forced or compelled to kill these possessed individuals, and suffers an increasing existential crisis as a result. His only relief is in the company of his lover, a beautiful but eerie androgynous figure who always seems to be in the right place at the right time while remaining situated within a veil of mystery. The two are forced deeper and deeper into both urban and wilderness labyrinths, chasing after the insane Other on the one hand and being chased by the possessed chaotic beings on the other. After a fight, due to stress and miscommunication, the androgynous figure flees with personal secrets that can ruin our protagonist. Our hero continues on, and seems to be closing in on his enemy, when without warning this enemy, the insane Other, bursts forth and abducts our hero for several nights of threatening, savage, and torturous ordeals. The androgynous figure returns and manages to free our hero, but in the process has to sacrifice her/himself in a barbaric and bloody ritual. Our hero comes across secret evidence giving proof to the undeniable link between the techno-magician and the insane Other, as well as their connection to the State. He returns to confront the techno-magician and avenge his lover’s sacrifice only to be informed of his own complicity and involvement in the whole string of acts. It seems that he is also inseparably linked (mentally and physically) to  both the techno-magician and the insane Other, that the three of them are a strange trinity, and that this has been a personal quest for identity. He himself had been responsible for the possession of the people who went mad with chaotic rampage, and the sacrifice of the androgynous lover had been a necessary act in the discovery of their mutual identity. The last shot shows a kind of union with these three retiring in a dark, womb-like chamber.

It had a great, original score, terrific high-contrast, low-key lighting, compelling performances, and stunning art direction. Very influential on me…

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Musical Roots, part 2

Tuesday, October 6th, 2009

Then I heard David Bowie. A friend of mine was telling me about hearing the song “Space Oddity,” and soon we each had a copy of ChangesOne. It was interesting listening to this music, and there was something very attractive in it for me and also something different, that I had not heard before. I was compelled to buy another of his records, and I decided to try his most recent release: Scary Monsters. It was 1981; I was 14, and wanting to find something I could absorb myself in that sounded fresh. I found it in Scary Monsters. I was so happy on hearing this album I shed tears while dancing around in ecstasy. I couldn’t believe how the music wrapped around me, feeling so new and comfortable at once. I started collecting all his previous releases back to The Man Who Sold the World. I was so fascinated by his creativity. There was something in his process and execution that stirred an artist inside of me. I still think he has the most incredible output of a musician over that decade (‘70 – ‘80), over those albums. I responded well to all that work, but I have to say, the stuff that really got me, that really stuck and went in deep, is the work done between ‘76 and ‘80, when he had the rhythm band of Carlos Alomar on guitar, George Murray on bass, and Dennis Davis on drums backing him up. Those guys laid down a solid groove for Bowie (and whoever the lead guitarist happened to be, and anyone else who might have appeared on the track) that was moving and tight and bouncy.

Another thing that listening to David Bowie did for me was get me ready for the coming new wave British explosion, which started for me in 1982 when one afternoon I picked up my first two 12” singles: “Tainted Love” by Soft Cell and “Let’s Go to Bed” by The Cure. What followed over the next few years was a musical inundation by a range of these new bands, including: Soft Cell, The Cure, OMD, Visage, Japan, New Order, Depeche Mode, The Thompson Twins, Blancmange, Thomas Dolby, Bauhaus, Cabaret Voltaire, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Adam and the Ants, Public Image Ltd., Shriekback, Tones on Tail, etc. I started to go to dances, and got into spinning records a bit myself. And that’s the stuff, the early 80’s synthpop and post-punk stuff, that made the indelible impression on me. That was the music I was obsessed with when I learned to drive, experimented with intoxicants, started having sex, graduated from high school…

And it was a period that was for me ushered in by David Bowie. And even though I wasn’t so fond of his new look and popularity after his move to EMI and the release of Let’s Dance, I feel that I learned a lot from him creatively, and through him I also became acquainted with other groups that would be important for me, like Iggy Pop (and the Stooges), Brian Eno (and Robert Fripp), and The Velvet Underground… Something of the spirit of David Bowie struck a deep chord in me that still resonates today.

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Musical Roots, part 1

Tuesday, October 6th, 2009

The first record I ever owned was The Originals by Kiss. It was a new, special package containing their first three records, the self-titled debut, Hotter Than Hell, and Dressed to Kill, and some stickers and stuff. These records changed my life. It must have been around the last part of 1976, when I was nine. Over the next couple of years I obtained all their albums, excitedly picking them up as they were released, including Alive 2, the solo albums, etc… I played my Kiss records hundreds of times, actually wearing out several of them. The band and their music invaded my dreams. On several occasions I performed their songs with friends. We made costumes, painted our faces and acted to their music in front of audiences. My favorite members were Ace Frehley (the spaceman) and Gene Simmons (the demon). These two characters were deeply appealing to me in an archetypal way. I saw them play at the Forum in L.A. in 1980, the original members, still in make-up, and experienced it in a state of awe.

But after a couple years, I had grown through them and was ready for another band. By 1978 I had heard Led Zeppelin in an undeniable way. Where I’d been skipping more and more of the Kiss songs, Led Zeppelin captivated me with every track. My first albums were Led Zeppelin II, and the forth one, with the symbols. I can’t describe the impact these had on me. Soon I had the rest of their records. (This was before In Through the Out Door had been released, and when they were still a band). I felt that their music realigned my adolescent consciousness. Especially those electric guitar riffs of Jimmy Page. They activated something in my blood. I was upset when Bonham died. I felt like I had lost a friend with the demise of Led Zeppelin, I had grown so psychically close to them. But in a way, it might have just cemented my bonds with them more, and at least a half dozen of their records played in my mind consistently for a couple of years.

I was also into Pink Floyd at this time. My experience with Led Zeppelin was more overpowering, but at times I would slip into some intense states listening to Wish You Were Here, or Animals, or Meddle, or Dark Side of the Moon, and when The Wall came out it was my favorite album of the year.

There was a period around 1980 when I was also listening to Yes. I had some different albums between Fragile and Drama, and I would play them when I went into these weird and dreamy moods. It’s hard even to recall the experience of listening to them, because of the quality of these meditative moods.

These were the first bands that I attached to, that shaped my young mind, these classic, 70’s, blues-based hard rock/heavy metal and progressive/psychedelic bands, with their theatrics and magic and angst and trippyness, with their imagination, and intensity, and evocative sonic journeys.

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Difference

Thursday, October 1st, 2009

Please don’t misunderstand me and think that I am trying to insist on the reality of dualism as a fundamental system at the metaphysical level. I think that it is far too easy for us as humans to impose a template of duality over the world, because:

1) Biologically we are each created by a mother and a father, and exist principally as one of two genders.

2) Biologically we each have a right and left side to our bodies and brains.

3) Terrestrially we revolve around a single star, and so experience periodic cycles of day and night, and summer and winter.

4) Have, in addition to this single burning star we revolve around, a single satellite revolving around us, so that temporally we exist through a sun-in-day and moon-in-night ever recurring cycle.

5) Geographically we are always caught by gravitational forces against a horizontal plane of land while extending upright into the air.

6) Symbolically, the human consciousness has developed within political and/or religious systems that have drawn lines between “us” and “them” or notions between what is good and bad or legal and illegal, as a way to regulate and control society.

One can continue to produce influential reasons for seeing the world through a cognitive map of duality, and explaining how similar systems became inscribed as a reality for human beings, but I think one can also discern the short-comings, limitations, problems and falsities that such a simplistic and generalized method of categorization leads to. One problem is that there are so many ways to divide things and events up. One might come up with a thousand binary categories and then place a thousand things or events in one of the two columns for each of the thousand categories, only to discover that each thing or event is a unique occurrence, an entity consisting of a unique set of overlapping categories, while none of these categories can offer anything other than a very small perspective, and the uniqueness of a multitude of categories becomes itself beyond categorization. Another problem is the contestable nature of placing an event or thing into either one or another category. Different minds will have different ideas on how to divide phenomena up, and the process itself denies or ignores any intermediate or gray area, or variations to a two-term system. Attempting to split the elements of the world up like this is obviously a very crude, nearly laughable, procedure, which we would probably be better to avoid or think beyond.

Still, it is a fact that there are many differences. And while it may be true that the human mind tends to assemble types that can be spread out along a spectrum and identified by their poles, it seems more true to assert: Difference exists. A multitude of instantiations of Difference exists. Somehow the fact of Difference is primordial, and built into the ground or the metaphysics from which reality arises.

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