This will be summary enough to be a bullet point comment.
- Creative and willful engagement with the creative and willful activity of others is in itself, an art. The most appropriate context for such an art is your life, your growth and development.
- James Hillman's re-enlivening or 'everyday-ing' of the mythic through Pychoanalysis and his work of THE TERRIBLE LOVE OF WAR provide a useful lens/launching pad into understanding psyculture and participation in the dance floor of a trance party.
- The above point integrates playfully and productively with Bruno Latour's Gifford Lecture Series on Facing Gaia... In the Terrible Love of War Hillman understands the perpetuation of violent war as being attributed to a failure in imagination. The idea is that since we cannot enter war sufficiently with our imaginative capacity, our terrible love for its spectre will continue to call it forth, actualize it.
FACING Gaia... Confronting Gaia? ... what does this/ can it look like? I propose that the festival, the trance party specifically (" the redefined ancient tribal ritual for the 21st century" Goa Gil), provides the imaginal landscape in which the confrontation, the facing of Gaia can occur at a cultural scale that is significant. That the event name that prompted the above piece was "Gaian Dream" made the above considerations all that more playful.
- What i allude to in the above becomes all the more interesting when we consider that the globally distributed tech-nomadic sub-cultures of a global PSYculture-egregore operate like the war machines spoken about by Deleuze and Gitarri* in NOMADOLOGY... my thesis; PSYculture dancefloors are the transferred object of the metamorphized war machine whose object is otherwise the battleground. I am developing this argument further, it has major legs and gyrating hips!
- A case for such nomadological bodies can be made analogically to the role/function of trance-dance in hunter gatherer bands. These nomadological-dance-war-machine-bodies may fulfil a similar function in regulating the health of culture more broadly in a similar way to the way spontaneous emerging trance dances in hunter-gather communities would regulate the health and tensions of the social body.
- circumstantial co-incidence; Goa Gil (key progenitor of the psy 'scene')passed at the time of this festival. 2 weeks prior the 'New Tribes' dancefloor at the event "Parallel Universe" was violently attacked in Isr/Pal conflict.
Okay okay, some underfoot footnote notes to tie this piece up as best I can.
This baboon was successful by his own standards, meaning he landed as the butt of his own joke. Being a smart ass and all that. His own creative engagement was thrown quite spectacularly back in his face (I'm here for it). He also failed by his own standards in that he stood aghast, taken over by self-involved hesitancy and possessed by habit-patterns that needed guarding against and teasing out. He was left dragged behind a farting camel picking up stompies and kak.
The Salvation hoped for fell into a silent Sunday Funday... the prophetic words quoted in the above from Dostoevsky resonated with Slime and PUNishment through Sunday as the intimate-dream-like-encounter of the early hours struggled to hold in the light of day... short circuiting alienation.
A prayer of sorts seems the only way to tie it up...
PART 2 - FOOTNOTES for further investigation.
This will be summary enough to be a bullet point comment.
- Creative and willful engagement with the creative and willful activity of others is in itself, an art. The most appropriate context for such an art is your life, your growth and development.
- James Hillman's re-enlivening or 'everyday-ing' of the mythic through Pychoanalysis and his work of THE TERRIBLE LOVE OF WAR provide a useful lens/launching pad into understanding psyculture and participation in the dance floor of a trance party.
- The above point integrates playfully and productively with Bruno Latour's Gifford Lecture Series on Facing Gaia... In the Terrible Love of War Hillman understands the perpetuation of violent war as being attributed to a failure in imagination. The idea is that since we cannot enter war sufficiently with our imaginative capacity, our terrible love for its spectre will continue to call it forth, actualize it.
FACING Gaia... Confronting Gaia? ... what does this/ can it look like? I propose that the festival, the trance party specifically (" the redefined ancient tribal ritual for the 21st century" Goa Gil), provides the imaginal landscape in which the confrontation, the facing of Gaia can occur at a cultural scale that is significant. That the event name that prompted the above piece was "Gaian Dream" made the above considerations all that more playful.
- What i allude to in the above becomes all the more interesting when we consider that the globally distributed tech-nomadic sub-cultures of a global PSYculture-egregore operate like the war machines spoken about by Deleuze and Gitarri* in NOMADOLOGY... my thesis; PSYculture dancefloors are the transferred object of the metamorphized war machine whose object is otherwise the battleground. I am developing this argument further, it has major legs and gyrating hips!
- A case for such nomadological bodies can be made analogically to the role/function of trance-dance in hunter gatherer bands. These nomadological-dance-war-machine-bodies may fulfil a similar function in regulating the health of culture more broadly in a similar way to the way spontaneous emerging trance dances in hunter-gather communities would regulate the health and tensions of the social body.
- circumstantial co-incidence; Goa Gil (key progenitor of the psy 'scene')passed at the time of this festival. 2 weeks prior the 'New Tribes' dancefloor at the event "Parallel Universe" was violently attacked in Isr/Pal conflict.
Okay okay, some underfoot footnote notes to tie this piece up as best I can.
It exploded in my life
I hope to bring you along better, if you will
"Writing is Human, Editing is Divine"... the above is mostly human
Well the storm has passed...
This baboon was successful by his own standards, meaning he landed as the butt of his own joke. Being a smart ass and all that. His own creative engagement was thrown quite spectacularly back in his face (I'm here for it). He also failed by his own standards in that he stood aghast, taken over by self-involved hesitancy and possessed by habit-patterns that needed guarding against and teasing out. He was left dragged behind a farting camel picking up stompies and kak.
The Salvation hoped for fell into a silent Sunday Funday... the prophetic words quoted in the above from Dostoevsky resonated with Slime and PUNishment through Sunday as the intimate-dream-like-encounter of the early hours struggled to hold in the light of day... short circuiting alienation.
A prayer of sorts seems the only way to tie it up...
HOLEY YOU-CHARIST
- "Hallowed is the Game
and everywhere is sung the unsayable Holey Name
in penitence and present tense
I confess that I am full of kak and pretense
Both in what I do and leave undone
May my kak be made compost
might your garden continue to grow
Grant me my daily-disco biscuit
of trans-substantial bread
and deliver me from vibe-usurping
charge-theft
Lead me not into counterfeit-cultures
whose wake is perfumed by the camels fart
For yours is the Garden
and inheritance your gift
might my vote be cast
and the dancefloor be for ever more
om om om "-
...
An Evil Man said it best...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WOJbO3cRmCU