[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
george dorn's LiveJournal:
[ << Previous 20 ]
[ << Previous 20 ]
|Monday, March 28th, 2011|
|Saturday, August 28th, 2010|
|from academic magic elist
"Crowley as a bad influence"
I never really had much of an interest in the dark aspects of Crowley, save the necessary terrors involved in pushing one's own boundaries. Renaissance stuff is pretty dark if you read the heresy-hunters and witchcraft theorists, alchemy is gross, etc. Crowley doesn't have as much creepy power as the Malleus Maleficarum. But I agree that the study of Renaissance Magic is much more sweetness and light, much more applicable to practical ethical/moral behavior, much better philosophy. I got into Crowley via Robert Anton Wilson's fiction and theorizings on magic, which are much gentler and better humored than Crowley's own. He seemed like a great study in all the literary tricks and traps I was learning about in heady Theory (I wrote in grad school about Burroughs and Crowley on possession), but his texts were also a place in which I quickly discovered all kinds of practical stuff that opened experiential doors. I can't deny that there wasn't a "too much too fast" thing going on or that I didn't pick up some bad habits that got me in trouble. (I was lucky that a professor had the kindness to shock me out of a particularly glazed state once by asking me how I expected my writing to appeal to the unititiated.) But it was always from the point of view of RAW's "this is only an experiment in weird belief" and I quickly realized that I didn't have to be a Crowleyan to "do magic." I feel much better now. There was never a point that I wasn't disgusted with the guy's biography (also a fascinating study from various academic angles) once I learned about it--and I do have mixed feelings about the notion that one can value his texts independently of his bad actions. There are plenty of ways Crowley can be a bad influence, but he also teaches the kind of self-monitoring techniques that help young egomaniacs get over themselves. The area of drugs is potentially very scary for parents, or in my case teachers. Crowley is a fascinating figure in the history of literature and drugs, as well as experimentation with altered states of consciousness, but there are too many examples of how his serious scientific approach also furnishes plenty of rationalizations for abusers. If you believe that we learn more from our mistakes and failures, the ethical questionableness of Crowley can take on new light, but maybe not every young budding occultist reads Crowley and discovers how seriously he is in denial about what a lecherous asshole he is! But if it does not quickly becomes obvious how wrong he was about medieval magic, Kabbalah, gender, domination, abuse, epistemological hygiene, etc. then maybe we have a problem...
|Sunday, July 11th, 2010|
|couple thoughts on PKD (from blog/FB posts)
On "Schizophrenic" qualities in PKD (Galactic Pot Healer discussion)
the so-called schizophrenic (these days a less p.c. and less scientifically accurate metaphor) aspects of the Game are also what [potentially] give the Game its power. I'm reminded of the W.S. Burroughs cutup method. The method of taking signs and defamiliarizing them of their cultural content can be liberating, part of a transcendental project. It can also liberate you into the void--in the process of deterritorializing Control we can also lose it. In any event, it's a fascinating semiotic study. I think a lot of this attention to sign play is already evident in gnostic allegory, and it's interesting to look at gnosticism as a religion for the sign-study enthusiast. PKD was a great example of the early semiotic master: this is why he's so beloved of "we postmodernists" right?
re: Cornell teaching Androids
sad they feel the need to sell it in the first breath of the description on having been made into an important film. I worry not only that this will bias students to mistake the book for a novelization of the movie (or vice versa) and incline them to think they can skip the book for the film to get the "details of the plot" (let alone the themes, which aren't at all the same!), but also that it gives the impression that PKD's literary worth has something to do with his movie fame. The story of Dick's literary importance, when told, may eventually include something about the commercial (and even the critical) success of his films, but we should be very careful not to mistake PKD for "the kind of SF writer whose work gets made into films easily." It's more obvious in the case of films like Total Recall, which totally lose it, but the differences between Blade and Droid should be emphasized precisely because Blade Runner is that rare great film made from a great book, yet the distance is equally great.
|Monday, June 21st, 2010|
|Monday, April 12th, 2010|
|Monday, January 18th, 2010|
"He was a self-unmade man who didn't owe his lack of success to anybody."
-Joseph Heller, Catch 22
|Wednesday, December 30th, 2009|
|Friday, December 18th, 2009|
|I sunk Beginner's Mind
I prefer zen master violence and mind games. Telling yourself "okay I'm going beginner's mind now" or convincing yourself that you've done anything to escape assumptions is very dangerous. "my mind seems very still right now." All that language can be very useful for diagnostic and methodological purposes, but I worry that folks are often kidding ... Magis viderethemselves about the degree to which they are actually "being here now." reminds me, I saw a copy of "be here now" next to a copy of Bill O'Reilly on a bookshelf recently. scary how easy it is for cali-zen smugness and right-wing entitlement to co-exist
|Saturday, November 28th, 2009|
|FBI intercept from FB Christian acidhead chatter
JM: when you embody Christ, Christ embodies you
gdorn as WSB: Christ is a virus
JM: virii are beautiful, when they do what you want them to!!!
gdorn as WSB: Yeah the thing about the Christ virus is it has its own LOGOS, its own plan, and since we have to make ourselves empty to let it enter us it's hard to make many calls about it. There are definitely some wrong ways to let Jesus in--its a power that can be abused. Being holy doesn't make it safe. I think that when we let Jesus in with humbleness and charity he does repair work first and foremost, activating genetic programs in our domes.
|Tuesday, November 17th, 2009|
Damn it. I've overlooked the extraordinary parallel between JOINT and my "It's really 70 AD!" experience.
|Monday, November 16th, 2009|
|shitfacedbookin' cutup and out of context
so I've coined a term for Facebooking while drunk, but what about while high? Bakedbooking?
(shitfacedbookin' is the alcohol one, actually coined by a buddy's wife)
FaceBaking? "I spent the whole day on FaceBake"
It's not irrational on the face of it, but I think it's crazy to waste precious time deliberating over ethical non-problems. So I worry a lot about this subject. But I'm not convinced that compassion shouldn't be considered a problem. It may be crazy to assume that the problem has been solved, especially given the state of the evidence. That all said, I think it's absolutely charming that folks can argue such a hyper-compassionate position given the horror of our situation.
The problem with music these days is that it sucks, not that it makes no mistakes while doing that. I may make high-integrity, authentic low fi DIY bedroom rock, and leave in the mistakes when they sound good, but that doesn't mean it don't suck.
I think the people around me dominate too much with their UNinterestingness. I definitely got that creepy vibe on hipster safari in the Mission after the TMBG show last night. people are terrified of charming with fun smart or sexy so they seduce with the ironclod character armor of the artificially bored social order. what's really... Read more sad is how even my artist/writer/music friends buy into this and stop letting their freak flag fly. I want to resist the cynicism and ennui that would seduce me if I rejected the situation so I try to have fun in these "no fun stuff allowed" situations, but it's uncomfortable because there is nothing charming happening!
I have this perverse fascination with telling jokes that are impossible to get.
|Thursday, November 12th, 2009|
|a rare entry in my magical record/analysis partly in code
been a long time since I did any serious work. then I wound up accidentally fucking my head up big time.
I have been stuck within a crazy magickal experiment for about a month. can't say what the experimental belief was but I guess I can say it was my first LHP fact-finding mission. And I'm not the world's biggest fan of the LHP. I remember the moment of calling it up, and I can see from the memory that I agreed to it fairly enthusiastically, with a good sense of how illicit and dangerous the places were that I was gonna go, but pretty much instantly I was appalled at myself for having taken it on. turned out worse than I bargained for, natch, but I really shoulda fuckin' known better. been basically scared shitless the whole time, not to mention feeling really stupid and embarrased but needing to hide it, plus other fucked up things were happening in my personal life making the stress much worse. now I'm taking Crowley on "oaths are irrevocable" much more seriously. it was like a month long flashback of all the awful things I experienced in college with no break. got almost nothing done the whole time because I was forced to constantly be running away from myself because I couldn't take the stress. think I finally found the way out. made an agreement with the Rainbow Tunnel to walk away from the focus and not go back. or at least to not budge from reminding myself not too. (need to move away from that whole region of the Symbolic.) decided next year I will stage the death of the fade ranger. coming out of the fade cave. saw an amazing Jesus Lizard Show (found my first quiet there, and began calming habits again), then John Cleese which was most psychoanalytical. Need to be clean for TMBG at the Fillmore tomorrow night. I'm pretty sure that I can keep the insights I've gotten on the thing working to maintain a self-calming regime, but it's going to take a lot of purging and redemption before I feel clean. right now I feel really fucking dirty, like the Tool song goes "shit adds up at the bottom."
it's weird how unreal this all feels to me, where I'm at now. had forgotten it was possible to invoke so much force, be so completely out of touch with reality for so long. it was not quite a delusional state, because at all times I was aware in some part of me that I did not believe in the delusions and paranoiac criticism I was subject to. but it was more intense than I've ever experienced, and the part of me that seemed convinced seemed pretty fucking convinced. but at no point did I lose anything that I was holding sacred. I'm trying to rationalize it as a kind of trial by fire, but I'm well aware that it's more like learned a terrible lesson fucking around with fire. I can say that I've learned a ton about the Shadow and had a bunch of really fun ASC experiences worth writing about, but I have also paid a terrible price, both in terms of my health and my security. Lovecraft on "do not call up any ye cannot put down" has been a constant presence. but I don't have enough knowledge of the mechanisms to be sure about what's going on or how to stop it. SCARY SHIT
that all said, I'm glad to have learned various ways of having a shit ton of highly illegal fun, although I'm not sure if I've learned how to "get away with it." I'm grateful to have the information at my fingertips although I'm not happy about having to live with the consequences of the project. Hopefully once I get clear of it (I am merely free of it now, but I need distance from the wound and magnetic influence). reading lots of Jung, Zizek, Foucault, and the PKD lectures on Schizophrenia and that's beginning to help. observing all the pathology at work/school is helping get some perspective too.
readers: if any of this sounds familiar I'd be interested to hear about similar experiences, and what the recovery looks like. Current Mood: Beat
|Tuesday, October 27th, 2009|
Hidden Heavy Trippic Heiroglyphics
Writing Hymns to Higher Heads
Tracing squiggles set at odd diagonals across the reflection of the language of the spirit. Walls made out of words decorating the spin of inner pinwheels and tubetunnels inscribe the information of a civilization alonginside fleshy mucilagenous tatters of torn veils obscuring soul. Plots accomplished, all occaisionally in loose order or in reverse, dangling off each other and prosecuting haphazard logic tree grid debris. Tendrils gradually reconstructing contact with lost old structures hidden in cracks and crevices of ancient craft habit math patterns beset entropy. hollowing out cubbyholes with abstract scratches. first use of a symbol to describe the new thing naming parts.
The Pleasures of the Nervous System
This is the way i write about things. Not a bold enough statement. This is the way I attack the problems wrapped up in my imagination. Shit gets done. There are orders and connections in the phone book of blocks and breaks and automated processes dial specialists knowledge and service just like plumbers and handymen are needed to look after buildings in a city. We want to learn how to keep clean without running into contradictions, to carry the revelation beyond catch and remind yourself this is o.k. Making them solid in the mind so we can play with them.
The generalist wandering mileage through disciplines eventually becomes mugged (or sold a cheap ad) by various topics of focus; the mind often remaining fascinated past megapages of research as enthusiasm vessels fill and burst with insight and wolves of boredom warded off and iceage fears manifest tumble sink with a hiss crackle or silence. Noise through a sieve. Abstract currents battling swiss cheese eroded concrete in escher-esque interlockings. Open door for convenient cabinet access. They fuse and reassemble with little effort beyond link lift and rotate.
The Far-Off Gaze
Getting an accurate representation of one layer after or another often requires mermaidstory drift: abandonment of narrative ship! Meaning has capsized and revealed a jagged underside, complex with interconnection toward things badly understood. Always one step ahead until turned over. Fractal shadows cast by neuraltree tendrils interlace like mesh melts fabric. Sizzlectrical hurricane undoing tangles in videogame cords with ticklish spasm of cold ecstasy as melted refridgerator prison dots adorn the castlebase of what is rising up out of the water and stretching eyeglow.
Looking For Something
Paying attention to a once useful game behavior that was temporarily labeled embarrasing but is now sunken in lazy forgetfullness. Submission to the lord of sleep. Now the thought police have forgotten how to prosecute those kinds of cases. The criminals don’t bother, being engaged by now (due to realities of necessity) in some other glamorous newfadsin undertaking, so until the media and (top half of upper middle class) second homeowners hear about this neglected gem of a real estate location smuggled up in a cute little cove, not yet, until then some perspective of the action manifesting is clear enough to those on the ball. It slips through the crackspaces.
The Tough Times
Soldiering on, you have to puff pow blast through the barriers that won’t dissolve, even if you wait long enough, (hint that’s what clocks are for), and release a discharge of -- wow tingly soda-pipe peptide burst into receptor sets of activity. Just a little gap does that. Signal overflow or crossed wires confuses containers so stop taking collection census. That lets ‘em tick off more smoothly. Soothing “ah” and fresh clean teeth. When the missions overlap, short circuit or cross streams, energy accidents are lapses to happen. Working it all out like a tapestry unravel rewrite.
As hard as one can imagine but interrupted... often at unexpected vectors. Hell for the mapmakers, especially with all the compass fuckups from magnetic field fluctuations from strange human aurus or machine wires. Not always a crackle of static even as a warning. So flat. Experience is difficult. Wrapped around vertexes mostly, but graffiti and ads written on the ribbons easiest to get to. I want the angel to come down now so I’m going to shut up for a little while. It shouldn’t always have to be this moment.
Getting what you want is never hard but talking about it always is. Going to so much trouble only to get in trouble. Why waste the opportunity? How to digest without eating. Receive without taking. It gets frustrating and the accidents pile up, with jagged edges and sometimes getting stuck in some direction and firing off a constipated mirrorhouse beam deck of cards in a straight line into the spaces between the spaces. A fucked up plane.
You can always find new hiding places but forever unintelligible to your fellow man. Long walks and no ticket. Little enters and shallow sandy puddles of brackish water. Struggle and beaten down of the road. Scenery on the sides just sliding past as you move down it in your mindscreen. It reminds you of something.
Unrolling the Sacred Papyrus
Sometimes it takes a long time to explain how everything worked out o.k. and the latest news gossip. Sitting there resisting urge to tap fingers or switch channels. Spacing trancing out, might not miss something and “oh what the heck” submission fall opportunity like dissolves into more insider trading information. Sewing circle spin doctors in hierarchical glial spirals gather dewglistening fruit of inspirationtalk thinkystuff in fun bundles separately prepared but bleeding into each other skyscraper picketfence style. Avoid signing legislation or just be mellow about casting your vote. Some find it annoying, is all.
Awareness of Nausea
Anatomy of an ooze membrane: penis form polarity, bumps off the others. Otherwise skull empty. Liftoff to rocketship and drizzle of light going upshiny ten stories. View of elevator from both floors, false tension euphoria squeezing together (unity of surrealistic false dualism) all external packages wrapped in shape. No way out but “the” unfamiliar. Static can’t last now; like cutting through gravity the swell and bent envelope. Turtle head peeking out and arrival of grand train. Force vacuum ironing itself out--this is actually engaging and it won’t be long now.
See if it stops.
Symbol Over Population
How can we incorporate all those old rotes into our roadmap once the cagestress of categories lessens and the government suppression ends? This is something the weary care about! Remember. Time heals all wounds and sensualists soon forget the rebellions. Hedonism is peace enough in such warm time climes as where food is slack. Fills the body good and distracts from sinister white vans or the goop squirted onto them by disastrous glandular panic (the result of one too many straw conspiracies) pokingeye needles acupuncturing the camel’s back and collapse in garden.
Project your stuff.
Confusication breakdown datapocalypse talk will only offend bastards here. This is the alter-after--no more virgins left. Every available surface laden with excrement, other wise standing room only. Nowhere to safely place your things so dynamics equal alarms until they tire of pointing fingers. Planning three moves in front of the chessgame all that many timebankers can afford, unless you run into the bodily ones with illegal stashes of oxygen, “The Hookup” stasis and red yellow greedy eyesquint. Still the problem of how to catch up steady without misstep. Junkys smell bad, anyways. Squirm. Into Space Planning for mistakes is kinda like allowing them, but how many transactions have to occur before making it better than? Instructions slipped telepathically under the table to newcomers gaining sudden access to this strange unfamiliar complex otherworld with its own peculiar games. Mysterious bridges back and forth but still no obvious angeladder passage. Always hope, often aspiration, usually the odd bits of cognition specks on a bumpy egg, however no nuts and bolts approaches known to work or tricks to fool the sentry. Like an eclipse of Sun. I will allow myself ice cream now. Just fix it. 1
|Sunday, October 11th, 2009|
|in honor of national coming out day
Queer astrology for women: an astrological guide for lesbians - Google Books Result
by Jill Dearman - 1999 - Body, Mind & Spirit - 213 pages
|Friday, October 9th, 2009|
Three volumes of The History of Sexuality were published before Foucault's death in 1984. The first and most referenced volume, The Will to Knowledge (previously known as An Introduction in English—Histoire de la sexualité, 1: la volonté de savoir in French) was published in France in 1976, and translated in 1977, focusing primarily on the last two centuries, and the functioning of sexuality as an analytics of power related to the emergence of a science of sexuality (scientia sexualis) and the emergence of biopower in the West. In this volume he questions the "repressive hypothesis", the widespread belief that we have, particularly since the nineteenth century, "repressed" our natural sexual drives. He shows that what we think of as "repression" of sexuality actually constituted sexuality as a core feature of our identities, and produced a proliferation of discourse on the subject.