Saturday

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Ignore the date---It's bogus.





Indigobusiness said...

Doesn't it seem our land is dimming by the dearth of shining lights like Chief Seattle?

By contrast, the belicose mongrels holding forth today are a mockery of our wise progenitors.

Doesn't it just get you where you live?

2:04 PM

SurreptitiousConfessant said...

I wish you were two inches longer, and one more full inch in circumference.

posted by SurreptitiousConfessant

Indigobusiness said...

I wish your wound would heal.

September 03, 2006 12:30 PM

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Lazy said...

I don't think much of Plato but you can find the Golden Verses of Pythagoras here.

2:36 AM

I.:.S.:. said...

I like that picture that illustrates this post.

Sometime in the delirium of last week I came here to read Yeats' The Second Coming... to read it over and over like some demented prayer...

This place is so full of beauty...

(So why did you have to put that fucking turd statue up?)

hahaa, do as you will

3:41 AM

Indigobusiness said...

So, you think that since you swept out your cave you can go around, in all your incarnations, making rude comments and vaunting your delicate newfound sensibilities?

You should think more of Plato, and, if you were a true fan of this page, you would've seen my post of that very reference to the Golden Verses of Pythagoras.

There are more than one gold-plated and/or solid-gold turds on this blog: hidden and overt. But that painting is nice. Rarely are abstract images of this sort done in watercolor. I wonder how big it is? Paintings like this should be large, but I fear it's not. Nice image, still.

If I were in England, I'd kick your ass...all of your asses.

5:41 AM

Indigobusiness said...

There is a recessive selfishness gene responsible for pathological rightwingery.

It's in their genetic code, they can't help it, it's one reason they fear science. It's in their bones to defend the gene...at all cost.

Consider this:

There has never been a rightwing empath.

Go figure.

11:34 AM

Indigobusiness said...

Everyone's a critic.

I've been criticizing titty fakery for decades.

It is just another abhorrent attempt to close the yawning hole in the soul. The work never ends, because it has no chance.

I once sat in a plastic surgeon's office, after having some battle scars beautified, looking around the room I realized I was in the Village of the Damned. It was horrific.

3:54 AM, August 28, 200

Indigobusiness said...

Absolutely...I'm fairly knackered by politics. Bollocks the bullshit dynamic, I say!

But I probabably said it wrong. I'm as weary of my own vernacular as I am with the dishonest bargaining known as politics. So, I mangle the ones I admire.

Politics is the active rewriting of History in flux. History is written by the victors, they say, but the only version worth noting is the version of the vanquished.

Columbus thought he was a victor, but he was a bozo. His idea of reality had him fearing the edge of the world, while hoping he was right. I can relate to that. But reality has nothing to do with rational conclusions. It is a gestalt, at best.

Until we collectively find the lateral gear that shifts us into the paradigm beyond selfishness, we will be pawns in our political folly...and our spectacular potential will be squandered.

2:40 AM

Paulette said...

Oh, good to be home!! Went to Dublin to see Eddie Izzard's gig, went back, sang with my band and played drum n bass in a mini festival in my back garden, slept 4 hours and worked at the rolling stones gig!!!

Soooo good to get home and find your comments here!!! I missed you!

Indigo, please post when you are drunk! Experiment with the anal second circuit with no guilt! It is fun! thanks for the link.

Oh, Anonymous! I indulged myself in a binge cheese eating night! That's why I got so fucked up! thanks for the tip.

Twit, I like your blog eventhough I don't really get it. Yes, I was menstruatin when I added it to my list of blogs, LoL.

I'm flattered you liked my music. I'm making more. Did you go to http://www.myspace.com/pauladaunt as well?

Kisses

1:06 AM

Indigobusiness said...

Welcome back, Paula. Your post is so vibrant and alive, it makes me feel I've been dead for some time, now.

Not even guiltlessly experimenting with the anal second circuit can save me now.

Somebody throw some dirt on me.

6:38 AM

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Paulette said...

Indigo, please talk to my doctor: http://www.drhyatt.net/

Read all his books, take some LSD, we are gods, we make reality.

4:31 PM

Indigobusiness said...

Luciferian Society?
Thanks, but I'm not much of a joiner. Besides, I need a nurse more than a doctor.

Faemblem of divstellatio is interesting, though...and I'm particularly intrigued by Erectaclysm.

I've heard of Dr. Hyatt, with his blend of blend of Reichian physiotherapy and tantric yoga. All that has a nice ring to it, but I'm not sure he can heal what ails me.

Just shoot me.

6:44 PM


Lazy said...

Nothing like the balancing act of the high-wire insomniac, Indy!

Those links were vaguely mind-blowing.

I'm sitting here warm in bed with a big lump of hash laptop on lap with no hope of sleep despite the valium and valerian...

I'm going to have to get used to this all over... Time... there's so much of it... what do you do with it all?

It's like when people say "ah, life is short". No it's not, you idiot - what exactly is there that is longer than life, hein?

Oh you beautiful people.

1:16 AM

Lazy said...

Shit you think it's easy being a man, anyway? Get shit like... dunno... ingrown beard hairs. It's not easy, you know.

1:17 AM

Indigobusiness said...

Lazy, Lazy, Lazy- Vaguely blowing your mind is like phoning-in an orgasm.

Valerian sprang-up in my garden this year. I told my straightlaced neighbors it was marijuana. It vaguely blew their minds.

Life is short, until it becomes unbearable....then, it is much too long.

I find it an oddly unnatural imbalance that there is no male parallel for the female period. Period.

The only thing longer than life, is August in Texas.

2:02 AM

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Indigobusiness said...

Foolish in our belicose blunderings, we seem to have lost our mythos compass, thinking we can control our destiny by taking the world by force.

My species has elevated itself to the precipice: pointing fingers, ranting, awaiting a push.

8:51 AM

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Indigobusiness said...

In the middle of my art school education, I spent a year in Normal Illinois. I rented a studio that was the top floor of a derelict storefront on Main Street, above Nick Africano's studio in adjoining downtown Bloomington.

One day, at the library, I ran across a copy of The Annotated Alice. I was so smitten I fell into the habit at twilight of sitting on the fire escape -overlooking Main Street and the square where Lincoln gave his famous lost speech- reading The Annotated Alice to pigeons and passersby, and occasionally my girlfriend.

My girlfriend seemed to like it, and the pigeons didn't seem to mind, but the good citizens of Bloomington thought I was mad as a hatter.

Alice was a very special inspiration, and an extraordinarily meaningful work of fiction. Thanks for posting the photo of the home of the girl who inspired it all.

Nick Africano became a famous bigtime artist. I'm still sitting on fire escapes at twilight.

Indigobusiness said...

Fucking enabling limey bastards gave Bush the boost he needed to turn the world to shit. Bloody hands all around.

I think the optimists and pessimists are both deluded:

The deal is done, the jig is up.

Our destiny is writ large in the headlines. You think things will get better? Today is just a taste of our collective folly. We've turned a garden into a shithole. A shithole with damn fancy plumbing.

10:19 PM

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Lord Douchebag




8/9/2006 3:36 PM

You've been quiet... how's bidness?

Indigobusiness


Aug 10, 2006 12:28 PM

Bidness is bluish.

abraxas23 said...

Actually I'm dead. I'm even double-dead. And you don't even exist at all.

Where void touches something it becomes nothing.

greez

4:40 AM

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Indigobusiness said...

Where void touches something
it becomes contaminated.

12:47 PM

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actor said...

when a void toches something, it realizes nothingness...because it finally can compare itself to a SOMETHING.

12:00 AM

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Indigobusiness said...

What part of a void does the touching?

12:09 AM

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ericswan said...

zero = infinity

CAN'T TOUCH THAT!


I'm going to add you to favorites but I don't know why.

5:46 AM

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Indigobusiness said...

Nice try Eric, but zero=infinity-infinity is the correct equation.

7:13 AM

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ericswan said...

Indi..that was a double negative..you must be in the other universe heading south no?

9:44 AM

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Indigobusiness said...

Leave me out of it, Eric. The equation is correct. There is no double negative involved.

Are you suggesting infinity is a negative?

Consult the definition of terms and get back to me.

10:24 AM

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Nobody@All said...

Without being an elitist, I can firmly say that you are lost in ideas and abstractions. What is the value of an idea about infinity, or void, or nothing, or something? Can you trade that in for valuable prizes? Well, yes, you can if your part is to feed the delusions that provide the materials for the cement that binds the fiction of reality.

Any action you take, is by its own right and function, a positive one. If I say, "There is no God! There is no reality!" you might respond that I am being nothing but negative. I would ask you if any action can be non-action, in that case. My attempt to state an antithesis is active and you would not be aware of it if it was inactive, passive, and receptive.

You are the ones who rest on the false premises that you then try to prove other factors upon. If you were brave enough, (oh, and I know that walking through real fire and tossing your bag of stuff away forever is brave) you would see that your mind is the core of the problem, and not the stuff it troubles itself with, looking for temporal solutions!

But from my perspective ... that just happened. I did not have to type a thing. You can agree, oppose, or ignore it and it does not mean a thing to me. This is not happening at all.

Pass this off as something you put in that circular file called nonesense. From here, that is where the real, organic Wisdom is not found. You will always miss the mark and your truthes will be eccentric widows. Got it yet? If you said yes, then get thee behind me Santa!

Your solutions are already there and you create the problems for them. That is bassackwards, ey? Intellectuals and thinkers are the very last to every see that their path and paradigm is just as insoluble as the religious/spiritual/philosophical ones that come before them, only because they serve as a pure and ripe medium for the oneupmanship to follow.

Like it or not, your mentations are merely an altered and more sophisticated form of what you call violence or primitive, or instinct. To me, only the wise can manage to see this because the bootstrap problem exists in relation to the older concept of the “transcendental” and the “metaphysical”. No matter how we slice the cake, there is the problem of replacing anything that may be actual and concrete with belief systems, (old or new) that are merely pure abstractions in the realm of the mythical mind we place on a pedestal and consider to be the “word” or “God'. Even Atheists and Agnostics do this.

11:02 PM

Indigobusiness said...

No use at all, to those entrenched in a materialist's practicality. Is that your reality? It was an oportunity to have a bit of fun, at least for me. Is that not allowed in your unreal world either? Prize? Who cares?

Alrighty then...someone else has stepped up claiming to have it all figured out. You might be spot-on from your materialist/self-centered/mock-selfless perspective, but one thing I know for sure is the framework you assert is limited, at best: a rather annoying yet welcome foil for more lucid insight. At least your scatter-shot self-contradiction affords a context for bone-picking.

There is no slicing of the cake, only crumbs to do the pondering, in reverent wonder, of the whole. There is wisdom in that, regardless of opinion, or who has eyes to see it. You are a mark made by the cosmic pencil, whether you realize it or not. The quality of the mark is your doing, but the residue is ephemeral, at best, and ultimately again part of the marker.

I'm too Taoist to buy into your clattering claptrap, and one thing I know for sure is that 'he who knows he knows, doesn't know...he who knows he doesn't know, knows'. But you've heard that before. What part do you not understand?

Semantic gyrations are simply a distraction. Call it unreality, happening, void, nothingness, path, no path, or paradigm...it gets down to the clusterfuck of experiential eternal becoming. You can pretend to an intimate certainty of the full texture of the natural tapestry, but such pomposity only contributes to your judgmental self-indictment. What an insult.

You appear to be another blinded by the glare of his own brilliance. What a sincere shame.

3:21 PM


Indigobusiness

A crusade is a crusade is a crusade.

Everyone is certain of their crusade.

God knows, Lord Douchebag is.

A douchebag is a douchebag is a douchebag.

Posted by Indigobusiness on Friday, August 11, 2006 at 9:55 PM
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Trepanation T

And entropy is entropy is entropy...or is it? What about when, in some amazing coincidence, you spill out scrabble tiles on the floor and they all land in perfect order spelling "Let no flesh be spared". Is there meaning in everything afterall, is chaos only the guise of a carefully guided plan moving every atom in this universe to some unknowable end?

Naw, it's just fucking entropy. NEVER BE FOOLED!!!

Posted by Trepanation T on Saturday, August 12, 2006 at 9:23 AM
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Indigobusiness

Consider this:

Entropy in art involves patterns revealed by the repitition of identical or similar forms.

Physical chaos and entropy are perhaps merely ripples on the surface of the cosmic pool, moving inexorably toward a meaningful calm, an ultimately significant stillness.

Omward.

Posted by Indigobusiness on Saturday, August 12, 2006 at 2:02 PM
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TrepanationT

I think you're talking about fractal geometry, right? We're getting into chaos theory now, order masquerading as chaos, which freaks me out to no end because that starts giving weight to predestination in a larger sense...

But I prefer to think of chaos in a more traditional way, completely arbitrary and without meaning except that which any one person chooses to ascribe. Significance, meaning? I don't believe it. There will be stillness and calm though.

When we're all fucking dead.

Posted by Trepanation T on Monday, August 14, 2006 at 9:34 PM
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Indigobusiness

There is a reality beyond belief and all rational understanding.

That's the point.

All else is pretense and metaphor and lies.

Posted by Indigobusiness on Friday, August 18, 2006 at 11:43 AM
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Indigobusiness

I'd prefer to dwell forever in the Woodstock mud.

Some people are less dead after they die.

---

I decide not to mourn
and remain at the window to
watch a white pigeon
peck in the dirt
outside.

-Bukowski

---


DEATH ANGEL

When I meet the angel of death
Will She be lovely and voluptuous?
When She catch my wary eye
Will I see in Her face
all that I have ever loved
reflected back as in a magic mirror?

etc

Trepanation T

This sums up my thoughts of death PERFECTLY...except not so much voluptuous, as trim and atheletic with long dark hair, but utterly irresistable all the same.

Oh yeah, she'll probably be wearing a cowboy hat as well. It's my fantasy damnit!!!

Posted by Trepanation T on Saturday, August 12, 2006 at 9:27 AM
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Indigobusiness

So, I ordered my possum fur nad warmers yesterday. I intend to be looking good when the deal goes down.

Posted by Indigobusiness on Saturday, August 12, 2006 at 2:48 PM
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Paula Daunt

Beautiful. But I really hope death is a big bloke.

Posted by Paula Daunt on Saturday, August 12, 2006 at 9:39 AM
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Indigobusiness

Let me guess: A bloke from Antares?

Reminds me of that line from Blazing Saddles: Lady, I ain't from Havana.

And the one from Goin' South: You was the best I ever had, 'cept for that circus feller.

Posted by Indigobusiness on Saturday, August 12, 2006 at 2:19 PM
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2 Comments:

At 1:10 AM, Indigobusiness quoth...

This post has been removed by the author.

At 1:20 AM, Indigobusiness quoth...

Repetition is the strongest formal element.

I don't know who declared that, or even if it's true, but it's one thing I firmly embraced from art school.

Up til then, I embraced redundancy.

Indigobusiness said...

Meaningful work is an edifying fulfillment of the process of being human. It is far more than the "job" it has been too often reduced to.

Mindnumbing work leads to "going postal", and these riots are a reverse version of that...signifying far more than merely the incidental.

They represent a far-flung cultural failing that will be revisited and expressed in many forms...in many places.

4:22 AM

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dave bones said...

How does the free market have any strategy for getting rid of useless jobs?

How many people in London are stuck in market research phonng people after dinner to ask them if they use a certain product over and over again (paid for by the company)

Free market economics is destroying Rainforests.

The BBC news said that the lunchtime waste of sandwich wrappers per week in London weighs 700 tons.

What answer does free market economics give to that?

Same answer as usual- BURY IT.

Indigobusiness said...

Very little wealth is created. Most is borne on the back of one form of exploitation or another.

Usually the repercussion is far enough removed to seem unconnected, but like the artists -who virtually gave away their paintings a century ago, paintings which are sold today for millions- many of the backbone citizenry are crushed by the poisoned paradigm of living far beyond organic need.

11:54 PM

Indigobusiness said...

The problem centers around superficial concern built on perceived need. As opposed to meaningful concern centered on actual need.

Has anybody noticed the misery index continues to climb in spite of our ever increasing accumulation of stuff?

We are far too dazzled by our toys and our conveniences, and are chasing them like lemmings toward oblivion.

6:07 AM

copy editor said...

At least we have a good plan that is not going to be followed. That's a step in the right direction.

ScandinavienNova said...

It is only one thing in life we can be sure about.. And that is the fact that we all shall die one day :)

But it is a shame how we during a very short time has manage to destroy our planet this bad.. But I guess human is born to erase our self.

Hope you have a great day!

3:06 PM

Indigobusiness said...

ScandinavienNova said it well, but it remains to be seen what dying means.

4:22 PM

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dave bones said...

I told a friend that we are eternal earlier

5:56 PM

Indigobusiness said...

IRRELEVANCE

All questions at the public meeting that day were about life beyond the grave.

The Master only laughed and did not give a single answer.

To his disciples, who demanded to know the reason for his evasiveness, he later said, "Have you observed that it is precisely those who do not know what to do with this life who want another that will last forever?"

"But is there life after death or is there not?" persisted a disciple.

"Is there life before death? - that is the question!" said the Master enigmatically.



Indigobusiness said...

Interesting point, finely nuanced.

Such a film would be compelling.

Us-and-themism is a predominant form of fear-based societal shortcomings. Human nature is what it is, and tribalism is natural in all its varied forms, but why don't we learn from our mistakes? That's what bends my mind.

As long as God, or Allah, or whatever, is seen as "out there" and not "in here, out there, and everywhere" there are going to be power-trippers on the planet. And therein rests the generator of corruption.

Did I miss the point?



Indigobusiness said... My belief is they would go a long way in bolstering credibility if they didn't work so hard at squelching genuine religious experience.

Which brings me to this quote:

"The contemporary World War on Drugs is nothing more nor less than the modern manifestation of the millennial struggle between state power and individual freedom; between the proselytizers of purely symbolic simulacra of religion - propagandists of what Blake called "pale religious letchery" - and the practitioners of the real thing - for religion is an experience, not merely a "social activity with mild ethical rules." This War on Drugs originally started as a War on Religious Experiences, and it is nothing new..."
—Jonathan Ott


Indigobusiness said...

I.:.S.:., I.:.S.:., I.:.S.:.-

Pigs never, ever wallow guilelessly, and I don't recall anyone calling Lazy 'Shitwick'? Salpish as you all can be, at times. Never do we practice gratuitous insulting...nor should we.

Perhaps you'll correct me on this?

Feel free to vent your spleen as often as you please, yet if my blogs are difficult to find, perhaps it should be this way?

Saturday, 05 August, 2006



Indigobusiness said...

Nobody took old Shitwick seriously, save you i.:.s:.

Everyone else realized he was full of shit from the getgo.

He just needs a hug. You do it.

10:24 PM

Indigobusiness said...

Uncle Jimbo is naive if he believes courts are an arbiter of facts, or even of justice. They are arbiters of LAW, alone. Justice is only hoped for via the courts. Innocent people are convicted and the guilty are acquited, routinely.

To suggest issues of the day can't be timely examined via public scrutiny and opinion is ridiculous. Todays front page news is tomorrow's fishwrap, and the passing of time is crime's best friend.

As far as the military and its culture of death dealing goes, when soldiers celebrate the shooting of prostrate civilians -ON CAMERA- not much more need saying.

The Pentagon is an indoctrinating college of better ways to kill, only. Not one ounce of mental energy, or tax dollar, is spent waging peace. And at the first whiff of a new atrocity, its instincts and actions are to cover it up. Witness My Lai, Abu Ghraib, etc. etc. Imagine all the atrocities successfully covered-up?

The resources of America, and hence the World, are squandered on this culture of death and war.

If the forces of peace had equal footing, the war machine would be stalemated, and there would be no war in Iraq, Afghanistan, Lebanon...

It's all unnecessary, and futile.

WAGE PEACE...not war.

dave bones said...

soldiers that blog seem like a fine bunch. In in or the right reasons. Its the multitude that don't I worry about.

I often woder if peace can be made so attractive to humans somehow.

10:39 AM

Indigobusiness said...

It's their spellbound parroting of propaganda that I find so disturbing.

Cut through the fog, and speak to the real issues, I say.

I never made any value judgements about the fineness of their bunch. It's the quality of the analysis, fueling the ongoing military miasma, that sucks.

A tenuous peace is better than war of any kind. Rightwingers in power rush to war. It's no mystery, it feathers their bloody nest. Bastards.

And most of them call themselves Christians. Hypocrite bastards.

People are dying and suffering for an absolute lie. There is no abiding it.

2:32 PM

Indigobusiness said...

Hey, Mr Bonewanker- Have you seen Dave Bones' new band?

4:00 PM

Indigobusiness said...

It occurs to me that as few comments show up here, it probably isn't because of few readers, it's more likely because these sorts of posts are so difficult to respond to concisely.

For awhile, I thought I had driven more than my share of your readers away (probably have), but now I think I've sussed it out.

This post was a fascinating wade through the links...but how does one attempt a response? Daring to go beyond the glib nonsense of my usual commentary, I'll risk the serious by declaring that what this was all about is the root of meaning.

Meaning masquerades in symbol and opinion, and erudite expression. Maybe even in lethal text. Surely.
But the point of all these frameworks and languages and myths is to know that the essential exists independently, and to know it is to hold fire in the palm of your hand.

Stepping through the thresholds of trancendence is alway a oneway, terrifying ordeal. Something is gained and something is lost. You can't go home again.

By virtue of the Golden Mean, the Fibonacci series, and other sacred ratios and geometries, fundamental magic is built-in and builds all that is. The stuff and substance of reality rings with it. All else is metaphor.

8:55 PM

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Paulette said...

The only thing harder than commenting on my posts is answering your comments, Indigo. LoL

Yeah, very well put. "But the point of all these frameworks and languages and myths is to know that the essential exists independently, and to know it is to hold fire in the palm of your hand." And I feel I can't get back to where I was before, but I wouldn't call that home...
You write really well. When I grow up I want to be just like you.

12:03 AM

Indigobusiness said...

Going home is a metaphor.


Growing up is overrated, and I'd much rather you be like you.

1:26 AM

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Blog ho said...

it should come as no surprise that the cave is vaginal to me. and the ones in the cave are as eggs in an ovary. and outside the cave is sadness and bright light. this is the cave as i think plato meant. and i think he meant pluto, as well. yes, tea. thank you.

3:14 AM

Paulette said...

LoL

ahram... (cleaning throat)

"when I grow up I want to be like you" is a metaphor, too. LoL

What I think Pluto meant is that we think we know reality, and it constrain us. Yes, you can say the root of meaning. To know how to free your mind and construct your reality and your own meanings is as wonderful as it is scary.

I love lethal texts. They are always taking me out of the cave. sometimes is sunny, but sometimes is rainny and miserable, but still wonderful to be out. The way people run away from paradoxes entertain me in a morbid way. As the lethal text text said:"Quite simply, the lethal text is a text that, when read, renders the reader incapable of reading. It destroys the reader's mind. It induces a crippling insanity. Only those who have read a lethal text know what it says...but they are in no position to share their knowledge.

What does the lethal text say? By definition, no one can know and remain capable of telling it. But perhaps it is a logical paradox. The human mind has a kind of protective shield against paradoxes: it gets confused and gives up, instead of attempting to resolve them. They can stop "running the program" set up by a paradox. But the lethal text somehow penetrates this shield, presenting a paradox the mind cannot stop trying to resolve.
Which is why the lethal text is (probably) not possible: the mind is not a computer. The mind can deflect paradox by ceasing to think about it."

Don't know about that last bit... I love thinking about paradoxes.

Well, ceases to think, then real knowledge comes in. It tickles my brain! I still like the "the map is not the territory" analogy, and Robert anton Wilson quote: "Doesn't matter how many times we say water, we will be thirsty still." And if you apply this formula on a bigger scale you see how we are fucking stuck in a cave. Language, beliefs, programs...

2:45 PM

Indigobusiness said...

Au contraire!

It troubles me to have to disagree. There's been so much disagreement in my life lately...what with the Blog Ho menudo knock-down/drag-out, and all.

So, I'm forced to point out that "when I grow up I want to be like you" is NO metaphor, it is a simile. And, God knows, I knew you didn't really want to be like me. Whatever that means...and who would really want that, anyway?

Really is a recurring theme, it seems. Which is where we began, actually, somewhere off Pluto.

Even our lies are real. The point of the cave, and all the secret, sacred, and especially lethal texts is our potential for wisdom. The idea that we can pierce the veil of illusion.

Leaving the cave is one of those terrifying thresholds of transcendence I mentioned. Representing a paradigm shift, the world is suddenly, and forever, different. Meaning is unmasked.

It takes the courage of a genuine spiritual warrior to risk the leap across the threshold, into the unknown...beyond the current paradigm of understanding while sacrificing the comfort-zone of the cave, to know the world beyond metaphor.

---In related matters:

Hey, Ho-- Blow me.

5:57 PM

Indigobusiness said...

Good post.

It is one of the most troubling aspects of contemporary America: the way Christianity has been turned on its ear.

When belicosity and warmongering become de rigeur in the mainstream Christian world, it has become Antichrist manifest.

It is astonishing, the misapplication of religion in this country. People have been conditioned to seek easier and easier solutions in everything, we seem to want quickerpickeruppers even in religion. Simplistic nonsense shrouds religious teachings, because deeper analysis is inconvenient, its hard work. Jesus would hardly approve the superficiality and distortion, I reckon.

Everything's a lesson, yet few seem to learn. We are on the fast track to self-destruction, from the inside. No boogeyman, terrorist cabal, or external force required: We are choking ourselves to death with our own small-minded, mean-spirited idiocy.

09:52

Indigobusiness said...

holy shit

I mean HOLY SHIT!

7:18 PM

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Indigobusiness said...

What I really meant was:

What have we come to when we need a bunch of crap to save our bacon?

Our fat is truly in the fire.

Ya mi voy a la chingada...

6:29 AM

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Henderson Bostwick said...

Jeeze, I did a search on "mucus membrane fecal pellets" hoping to come up with some sick scat porno action and I get this science bs instead... And with a name like "voidwithme", I was already thinking, like, some sexy chick inviting me to void my bowels with her ;-D ;-D

I couldn't help noticing, this weird comment that that guy from realgem posted on voidwithme has showed up on his own blog. Do you think he comments his own blog to cover up the fact no one reads it?

12:56 AM

Indigobusiness said...

Henderson Bostwick has a lot to learn about that guy from realgem.

4:17 PM

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Anonymous said...

I did a search on "redundant life forms" and Henderson Bostwick came up on top. Mate, keep you "crap" for yourself, will you?

5:39 PM

Paulette said...

Henderson Bostwick... LoL Whatta fucking name!! LoL Bosta in portuguese means shit so it adds up quite a lot!! hahahahahahahaha

9:38 PM

lazy said...

It's true though, there is a weird moving comment.

10:35 PM

lazy said...

This is all just too much.

Anyway, I believe these jelly-creatures... ahem... may have been evolved into existence in the last few decades to take advantage of the carbon imbalance in the system.

10:40 PM

Indigus said...

I believe, unlike old Shitwick himself, these salps have been around far longer than the past few decades...and are actually an important part of the web of life.

God forbid we suffer opportunistic swarms of Shitwicks.

2:59 PM

Anonymous said...

indigo's last comment provided me with the first roaring laughter of the day.

Thank you.

8:01 PM

twit said...

My middle name is Meta, baby.

;]

5:07 PM

Delete
Indigobusiness said...

Maybe so, but your first name is still Twit.

Why is that?

3:05 PM

Indigobusiness said...

Hey Bones, where'd the thread go where i.:.s.:. lit into you with insults about you and your women? I can't find it?
You haven't deleted it, have you?

Can't believe you'd censor...but I've combed your blog, no joy. Just as it was about to go over the top...

You two really do love each other, no?

2:58 PM

Delete
dave bones said...

yeah I deleted it. Might be entertainment to you but why the fuck should I put up with it? Fuck him. You want entertainment?

4:58 PM

Indigobusiness said...

No, I don't want to be entertained. Not my bag. I want to learn, and I thought maybe I was about to learn something insightful about both of you.

Actually, I can see why you got rid of that...it was a bit much. Intriguing, though.

I don't get it.

6:38 PM

Delete
Indigobusiness said...

Ok, Bones, I read your comment (over there). Looks like loggerheads.

Enjoy your guitar, and damn the torpedoes.

3:53 AM

Delete
Lazy said...

I can't believe he'd censor it, either. But you know what? I once deleted a whole blog because of an anonymous abusive comment he left on it.

I'm sorry if I offended you, Dave. That's what you get for being "crass, macho and boastful" ;-) I was on a bad combo of drugs and I don't even remember what I wrote. But jeeze, are you sensitive. What's it take to have a good abusive relationship with someone these days?

Oh, and it was Mike Skinner I meant, not Frank.

4:43 PM

Lazy said...

He started it by dissing my shoes. Yeah he's all like asking the kids at the bus stop if any of them "spit", middle-aged hippy trying to be with it and with the times, shit the kids all love my trainers. And my SS cap. Hail Napoleon! The Empire never died.

9:20 PM

Indigobusiness said...

You look like a Nazi golfer.

Kids' taste is all in their mouth.

9:44 PM

Delete
Lazy said...

I don't understand why it's gone this far. I don't know why anyone takes anything I say this seriously. It's just fucking blogs, words on a toilet wall somewhere. Why should you put up with it? If you can't take some bs why are your words here for anyone to read and comment on, then? Get some perspective. This is not real life, this is entertainment. Imagine how lonely I feel when even David doesn't understand my humour any more.

2:26 AM

Mr Anderson said...

To introduce some objectivity and a sample of public opinion here, I showed the original controversial post/thread to some other people, who thought "I boned er innit" was "really terrible, innit?" (said one respondent) or otherwise vaguely tasteless. If you're going to put your sex life on public display and then can't take a bit of ribbing about it, don't do it. I don't feel like I'm on shaky ground at all.

1:15 PM

Indigobusiness said...

Quicksand doesn't shake.

7:47 PM

Delete
Other said...

"Quicksand doesn't shake"

A statement infuriatingly glib and well-oiled, or ha-ha-only-serious ominous?

Infuriatingly glib.

3:52 AM

I.:.S.:. said...

Quicksand does shake, until you're about thigh-deep.

3:54 AM

Indigobusiness said...

Nonsense...
but you're neck-deep, anyway.

And I'm infuriatingly glib...yet, well-oiled.

Or possibly ha-ha-only-serious ominous. But I don't understand that at all.

I'd like to think it's a fine blend of all three, much as I despise glibness.

5:07 AM

Indigobusiness said...

Fantastic!

I sit here stunned and blinded by the brilliance of that offering.

Love the soft subversion of the quiet revolutionary (well...not exactly quiet) slipping in counter-messages while hawking the goods of the corporate monster. Beautiful! Sheer genius.

The Psychopath's Bible, huh? Been warned about that old-time religion. Gonna have to get me some more bookshelves, but first I'll have to get some more money. It's a conundrum, a mystery wrapped in a riddle.

But, you are so right. Like rats in a squirrel cage, the more we make it spin, the more we want it to spin faster.

It is a wicked, vicious circle that truly is in the process of laying us low.

Money: just don't love it.

3:57 PM

Delete
twit said...

Would that be the all-singing, all-dancing crap-eating salps?

7:05 PM

Indigobusiness said...

Twit- You're beginning to confound and concern me.

7:52 PM

Delete
Indigobusiness said...

Actually, it's all pretty serious, and pretty funny. It's all pretty seriously funny.

But, in defense of the salps:

THEY AREN'T CRAP-EATERS.

Well, someone had to stand with them in their heroic efforts to save us all by completing the CO2 sink process of phytoplankton.

Which IS what they eat, btw.

I'd known for a long time that phytoplankton were a major planetary functionary for dealing with CO2, but I never dreamed the process hinged on these salps, with their crap so vile no other ocean organism will touch it.

Quixotic little bastards have totally won me over.

11:20 PM

Delete
Paulette said...

I'm really sorry I called such important creatures crap-eaters. What I meant by that is that they eat our crap. They eat what we "defecate" and turn it into crap, but their own crap. Oh shit...

6:56 AM

Indigobusiness said...

Oh, what a tangled web...

It's too late, Paula. You've even got Twit calling them "crap-eaters" (even if he does tart it up a bit with all that talk of singing and dancing).

These salps have cheered me up some, I'm considering naming something after them, but I'm not sure what.

It's funny (and a little disturbing) what makes my heart sing, these days.

3:38 PM

twit said...

My comment was a reference to this rant from Fight Club: "You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world."

It felt apt at the time because Paulette's post had quite a Tyler Durden-esque vibe about it.

I love explaining my cryptic wit
(& that was irony).

aaaaahhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHH!

10:38 PM

Indigobusiness said...

You're beginning to enjoy yourself a little too much, Twit.
But, as usual, you're spot on.

We may be "the all singing, all dancing crap of the world", but we can still aspire to being the untouchable all singing, all dancing crap of the world: SALPDOM.

Fight Club has too many rules.

11:09 PM


Paulette said...

Fight Club is my favourite film...

12:23 AM

Indigobusiness said...

Having just emerged from church (I call it church, but, actually, I just mowed my lawn), I sought the cool shade of my laptop...only to find myself in the elegant company of Emerson, banana salesmen, and the kindly coffee drunk genius of the one and only: Paula Daunt.

That coffee looks good, btw..and also, btw, I AM bananas ALL the time. This my rather clumsy thank you for your kind mention. But I'm not worthy of such company, and I left out drunken Irishmen.

Remind me me to tell you, sometime, how I very nearly started a war in an old Irish pub in San Francisco, (on Haight St. no less) over Guinness and aside an Irish mercenary, just back from Mogadishu.

That's when I learned I'm not near as pleasant a fellow as I'd once thought. But, thank you, anyway. I'm still singing inside.

Indigobusiness said...

When slags are outlawed,
only outlaws will have slags.

2:18 PM
Indigobusiness said...

Not only "The model is not the reality!", but often the reality model is not the model reality.

Semantics can be like peeling the onion of an infinitely complex world.

Your blog name is a good one, but now my head hurts.

7:12 PM

Indigobusiness said...

This is a fascinating topic, and the namesake essay is a good one, but I'm going to rant a bit:

These qualities of subjectivity, projection, psychology, etc, all hinge on the pivot of our comprehensional realm. We make
"sense" of things within our sensory field of experience. Our slice of reality is as limited as any.

We may be aware of a dog's sense of smell, but we will never know the reality of it. It is a world hidden to us. We see a red rose as "real", when the reality of the color of the rose is everything but the color red. Red is the color of light reflected, because that is what it is not.

Semantics? I guess...but I prefer to see our coping with the unknowable fullness of reality as poetry.

No amount of evolution will change this. Or will it?

Indigobusiness said...

Nicely put, and I hear you. I'd say all is vanity from that sort of perch, ergo -meaningless. Road signs to meaning are not the destination.

Meaning is beyond projection, and certainly a sticky wicket, never to be fully pinned down and measured. Quantum uncertainty vindicates the certainty of this.

Shorter or longer, our past has had its thinking class in recent millennia, which saw things in ways almost lost today. My point was just that the masses, drunk on an ever new and improved treadmill, have, in their headlong linear rush, lost sight of the sacred cyclical nature of things. Truth and meaning hide in plain sight.

The irony being the linear illusion is just another squirrel cage to dizzy us enough to have us fall down, dust ourselves off, and realize what we've always known.

I'm Taoist enough to find meaning in:

He who knows he knows, doesn't know. He who knows he doesn't know, knows.

There's meaning in paradox, not balance sheets. Nietzsche would probably swallow his chaw at the thought, and I'm just German enough to Heimlich him.

6:05 AM

Indigobusiness said...

I'm sure you are right, though, and I want to make it clear that I don't mean to romance the past...the same root problems of culture probably persist throughout history.

It seems to me that we, today, dwell on such an unprecedented array of distraction, subtle thinking is easily overwhelmed and shifted into a more technical, and inorganic, gear.

Genuine intellectual intercourse with meaning is ongoing, I'm sure, but mostly we've degenerated into a sort of glorified neuro-wanking...(My pretzel logic serves as an example).

We seem to be in a turning age, with a new mythos and cosmology emerging, hopefully to shatter our shackles.

Indigobusiness said...

... Regarding America, there is an odd cultual phenomenon underway that cuts at the fabric of the public will of the good folks here. Some call it moral relativism, etc, but it seems more complex than that (if that weren't enough).

There is much to consider about the American transformation in the midst of this turning age, but it is a real and disturbing thing to watch the detatchment from nature and the embracing of the artificial. Technofix is emerging as a religion.

It's funny to me how people can become preoccupied with one edge of a double-edged sword...to the exclusion of the other.

Too often lately, we seem to forget how things can cut two ways.

6:04 PM
Delete


Indigobusiness said...

The Olympics ARE Hell. Sent to torment us every four years with sufficient intensity to tide us over.

They should purge the corruption and conduct the Olympics with naked Olympians. Which sounds nice, but would only torment us further.
1:11 PM

Indigobusiness said...

Sympathize, not simonize or symathize or whetever the hell that slip represents.
4:03 PM
Indigobusiness said...

This post has been removed by the author.
4:19 PM
Indigobusiness said...

Aaaaaghhh...I DID IT AGAIN! This time "sypmathize".
Delete...pending.

...

(I couldn't take it. I fixed my typo and deleted the erratum and reposted the correction with the concomitant detritus.

Also: I intend to continue talking this way until every comment I make no longer includes typo/s and/or misspelling/s.)

---

I sympathize with you and Lazy, but you are both quite mad (I started to say "out of your fucking minds", but that would've been rude).

Never equate something posing as art with actual art. And, never for a minute buy the despicable lie that opinion determines the validity of art (art is an organic quasimortal of its own selfgovernance).

If I walk into a gallery and call myself Napoleon, does that make me so? Why then, if I hang something on the wall and call it art, should that make it so?

Abstract art evolved by the engine and natural evolution of art itself. Art ran its spectral course. Where we are now is somewhere beyond the no-man's land of postmodernism. Searching in dark corners of a roomful of anything-goes for meaning and bearing as we wile away the hours of a turning age.

Apocalypse pending.
4:25 PM


Indigobusiness said...

Now I'm pissed. All my mistakes inflamed me to the point of actually reading your original post. Which inflamed me further...or should that be farther...I'm beyond caring.

Your statement, that everyone should master photo-realism before taking on abstraction, is like saying people should master buggywhip making before they learn to build automobile pedals.

Art fundamentals are woefully ignored in art schools in America. I believe skills and technique should be basic to studio-art education. But many, many great painters have been lousy draftsmen. And facile artists are not necessarily great, by any means. A facility for any medium is always dazzling to some degree, but art is catching lightning in a bottle...and much of the catching is done intellectually.

Paul Klee is an example of an absolute master of high art. He "got it", even if that is hard to see by some, and he had none of the requisite realism skills of say a Picasso, who was a master portraitist at an early age...before "self-primitivising".

That said: I agree with you, almost entirely.



Indigobusiness said...

I love your blog. I find it strangely uplifting...and I get to babble to myself in the comments, without interruption.

Your pathological brand of angst is a marvel, a study in brinksmanship. Watching you balance on your cusp, teetering and offering up your special spicy dynamic of whether or not you will fall or fly...the odds seem fairly equal.

I'm rooting for wings, you could soar.
1:31 PM


Indigobusiness said...

Rationality is in the eye of the beholder. You are being judgmental, not rational.

Neville Chamberlain's work has been scapegoated and distorted as much as Carter's, and Clinton's...and manipulated like yellowcake. Save your red-herrings.

Racism is "rational" to Klansmen. War is the "rational" solution to warmongers.

Have you noticed the war rhetoric heats up to a compelling need for war under Republicans, and cools down under Democrats?

The rush to squander a record surplus and turn it into a record deficit at the the behest of a bogus war is the height of criminality (any way you slice it). This is an ongoing egregious abuse of power, with nothing remotely patriotic about it or the support of it...quite the opposite. Read meaningful history...like what the Founders said about the potential for governmental abuse and the need to watch the power-brokers at every step.

The people aren't being served, they're being served up. They have been sold a bill of goods that preys upon their fears. Prosperity is unthinkable to the lords of your brand of "rational" mind. There's more money to be made from suffering.

Principles aren't a matter of costs, or bean-counter Machiavellianisms, they are ethical cornerstones. The long road is served by adhering to noble principles and undermined by selfish quick fixes. Principles are an inscrutable joke to the unprincipled.
7:58 AM

At 1:06 PM, Indigobusiness quoth...

That is a particularly lovely Moore. I believe it is called 'The Naked Fear of Discovery'. It would be a shame if someone melted it down and sold it for scrap.

On the other hand, someone might find just the right piece of scrap and sell it as a Serra, entitled 'Overcome with Chagrin'.

At 7:06 PM, Indigobusiness quoth...

I'm not a big fan, but this one is flat-out beautiful.

I acknowledge much great art I don't particularly like. Got to balance my unbias as I thrash the lauded glory.

At 2:32 AM, Indigobusiness quoth...

Camus denied being an existentialist, but he could shoot blood from the corner of his eyes...much like the horny toad in your picture.

But I am baffled by Blog Ho's claim of being an out of work Pron star. ?

I suspect Pron stars squirt blood from their eyes.

At 5:01 AM, Indigobusiness quoth...

That was crass commentary, I know, and normally I'd be shamed into apologizing...but Mikey H has already pointed out my crassness to the blogworld. So, rather than be ashamed, I've come to accept my crassness...embrace it even. If I don't, who will?