Technological accomplishment follows a geometrical progression.. the process of Cybergenetic Recovery is concerned with the mapping, storage, and eventual retrieval of an organism’s total subatomic structure.. (The Time Connection page 162, P Monteleone, Popular Library 1976
This is a quite familiar sci-fi trope, that you have ready-made humans in a vat, but it strikes me the humans are more cy than human. Zuckerberg could be the prototype for a future society of pure order and no freedom. The human is circumscribed and cannot access the lost world of poetry that is the dream of the universe.
Freedom is simply lack of order; the stars scattered across the heavens like seeds. The seer reads fortunes in signs spread across the universe. The rule of order says there are no such signs; instead there is a type of nothingness. So, there is a choice to make. Either we are well-built cy-men of nothingness, a bit like Zuckerberg - part fact, part fiction – or we are poetic beings with universal soul. Evidence and proof will give you the former whereas freedom and coincidence will give you the latter.
Evidence and proof will tend to disrupt rhythm and melody, in a landscape say. Hence, everything that seems right is actually wrong in terms of freedom and coincidence. As I keep saying, there are two different worlds; one is a parallel reality of sameness (order); the other is a vertical, tiered society of differences (freedom). If you believe in coincidence and fortune then one society has reality, the other doesn’t. Hence the nothingness of evidence, proof and order that we are witnessing in cy-men.
The reality of presence and being, the temperament of a poet, something that’s not fact, not fiction, not reason, not pleasure. Quite often it is classical, as with the Spenserean stanzas of Byron (iambic pentameter Weird 4). The Homeric tradition of epic verse having a simple songlike sound to complement its heroic digressions, and no one’s more digressive than Byron!
I have a notion that gamblers are as happy as most people, being always excited. Women, wine, fame, the table, even ambition sate now and then; but every turn of the card, and cast of the dice, keeps the gamester alive; besides one can game ten times longer than one can do anything else. (Detached Thoughts, Poems, Prose, Letters page 657, Collins 1959)
Lady luck and the life of a dissolute clubber: the legend of Byronic romance isn’t so far off a Wild West saloon. Life revolving round hallowed rituals that give definition to existence. “The best of life is but intoxication” (Don Juan)
The language “they” speak has no rhythm and proportion, no song of soul and no experience of time (see prev.) The proportionality of living with its rituals and ceremonies affects our experience of time. Measure and proportion affect our experience of time – and hence consciousness – in innumerable ways. You go into the garden and hear crickets and birdsong, all obeying differing rhythms and time-signatures (wood pigeon, peewit).
Songlike experience is completely variegated. I was walking past an old rundown mock-Tudor terrace house in red crumbling brick, black beams and the garden a riot of dark green ferns and climbers. The merging of human and natural in variegated space has a very poetic feel to it (see Hyborian Bridge 2)….
All these variegated experiences affect consciousness because we remember in terms of composition – the feeling. And yet we are sold the lie that AI – that exists in atomic time – could have consciousness. The lie “they” are selling is that we humans could exist in atomic time, an experience that would severely circumscribe our consciousness, reduce us to cy-men. The way to reenergizing consciousness is to go into a wood, be surrounded by variegated lifeforms, hear birds croaking, see fishers swooping over silent ponds, see the slant-eyed gaze of a timbre-wolf and hoist the shotgun warily.
The Byronic life is quite uncalculated: you write when the mood strikes you what you feel in your primitive being. The intellect is there to give form and motion to the lust-crazed reality. That is the romantic ideal and the legend. Dionysus cannot be gainsaid; our primitive passions given poetic form.
This animal nature of society is seen in R Crumb’s pictures of Boswell’s 18th century London. Life as adventure, I mean to Dr Johnson words were an adventure. Once the world is calculated, the adventure is gone; the primitive nature of reality is gone, living as ritual and ceremony is gone, the cosmos as rhythm and proportion are gone (see CH5 Yggdrasil) Everything that speaks of being is gone because we are in the realm of Apollo (appearance).
Everything is appearance (“effect”) or, as I call it, reason applied to pleasure. Nothing is real because Apollo is appearance – see passim. Nothing is adventure, nothing is animal passion. We can try, but the calculations of Apollonian “reality” will out. It’s pointless pointing the finger at Zuckerberg; his persona simply fits that bill. Ditto Trump and ditto Roseanne. They are all calculating types, successfully so.
Evan Rachel Wood of Westworld TV series was driving in LA when she suddenly thought, “Nothing is real.” So she relocated to Nashville, which is an improvement. The smalltown is real, hell, the colt-45 is real. Hillbillies and Texas sharecroppers (if there are any), same as young farmers in New York state. Reality has primitive roots. Trump is always calculating, “how much is that?” Life is not a calculation; it’s a proportionate experience, song, a friendly bar. What “they” sell is not reality; it’s the wormdollar, the dragon of ego-lust.
None of these people are necessarily to blame, but they exist in a maze of ego-lust; fact becomes fiction in a place where there is no rhythm and basic balance of a living commune. The rituals and ceremonies of daily life, white, black, Hispanic.
POR UN AMOR
The soaring of air from body cavities; the majesty of song and communal celebration. The reality of balance and proportion expressing the sensual being. The croaks of an eagle floating on an updraft to an aerie of eaglets (matriarchy Pictorial 5) The reality of experience and not a mere struggle for existence is free-floating power and awe of feathered fury, eaglets cawing for more, secure in their lofty perch.
Reality is rhythm, balance and power.. in the moment.. the reality “they” don’t see. Their calculations are never in variegated time since that is a natural phenomenon; instead they are in precise (atomic) time.
..a Creator is a more natural imagination than a fortuitous concourse of atoms. All things remount to a fountain, though they may flow to an ocean..What a strange thing is the propagation of life! A bubble of seed.. might for aught we know have formed a Caesar or a Buonaparte: there is nothing remarkable recorded of their sires, that I know of. (Detached Thoughts..Collins page 681)
To Byron, Fortune is not chaos but something that remounts to nature; something natural to creation. Poetically there is melody, rhythms, balance, proportion, power, and this takes place in the moment. It is the opposite of calculation.
Like Sylla, I have always believed that all things depend upon Fortune, and nothing upon ourselves. (Detached Thoughts..Collins page 675)
Fortune exists in the moment. We dance, make love in the moment. What is a moment? No one knows, it’s just the experience of time but, whatever it is, it’s not calculation! What science does – Newton, Einstein – is count time precisely for the purposes of calculation. For planets and so on that’s pretty justifiable but it’s not reality. Reality is variegated time. “We count not time” (Howard poem)
In other words, the entire world of calculation is different to the one of temporal experience. When “they” say there is no Fortune, that means in the universe of precise measurement, calculation (geometry). You cannot precisely calculate variegated time – it’s impossible.Calculation is just appearance (Apollo), not reality (Dionysus), and that world affects how society appears. Instead of communes as happened in 50s America – see CH5 Harlem – there are rules of superimposed order. One point I made before is that an organic neighbourhood has the “logic of the irrational”; people would take advantage of the freedom and, on hot nights, sleep out on the fire-escapes.
That is the reality lived in the sweaty moment, in the quasi-ritualised free-forming commune of blacks, Spanish and others. Rituals are organic growth that gives free-form to supposed chaos. All of this free-form movement of people – needless to say –doesn’t come into calculations of social “order”. No calculations can contain free-form movement that has its own rhythm, balance, proportion and melodies.
That is why the more right they think they are, the more wrong they are in reality. The universe they are in can only contain precise information, and the information becomes more and more falsified, fact becoming fiction. That is the story of modernity, the story of parallel realities and sameness, not communal differences.
All this goes back to Bruce Lee and reacting in the moment (Jeete Kune Do CH9 see “Manhole”). Reality (to him) is not routine; it’s completely independent. You learn routine only to forget it in the instant of action. This free-form expression is almost self-evident in communal societies that are active, outdoors adventure-types. Namely the Wild West, specifically the gunfighter
When he could draw, cock and fire all in one smooth lightning-quick movement, he could then detach his mind from that movement, and concentrate on accuracy. (Bat Masterson quoted The Gunfighters page 36,Time-Life 1974)
“Going into action with the greatest speed of which a man’s muscles are capable, but mentally unflustered by an urge to hurry or the need for complicated nervous and muscular actions which trick shooting involves (Wyatt Earp quoted The Gunfighters page 39)
Earp and his brothers Virgil and Morgan made enemies, needless to say, and in some sense they symbolised the eclipse of free-living rural-type cowboys, despite their gunslinging skills. This trend can be traced from the end of the Civil War (Jesse James’s gang) and the drift of people to urban centres (South to North). The Western symbolism is seemingly eternal and occurs in the cyborg TV series Westworld, starring Evan Rachel Wood
Evan Rachel Wood was driving through Los Angeles when she suffered what she calls an “existential crisis… I suddenly looked around and thought, none of this is real,” she says. “Everything is programming.” (DT)
Yeah; what is fact, what is fiction? In the absence of communal rituals, your guess is as good as mine! The best you can say is the ghosts of the past of the West are living in our memories; and their legend may remount – paraphrasing Byron.
How real are legends, how real are ghosts? If our reality is psychically weak, perhaps realer than one might have thought. In the “old world” psyche is strong, Man is fortunate and that is the lost world we must reclaim, the superstitions that beset the iron-willed Man of faith, Solomon Kane, in his quest to do what is right and just (Tales of Faith 7)