Sunday, March 27, 2016

Imagine A Penny

MAR 26 2016

Imagine a penny.  If you're like most people, you know just enough about a penny to distinguish it from all the other coins.  "Ah yes, the red one!"  If you know any of the following, consider yourself part of a rare breed:

  • Which direction Lincoln is facing
  • Where the year is stamped
  • Where the minting facility is stamped
  • How many times total (both faces of the coin) the words are "One Cent" stamped

These are stimuli that occur to us but which we filter out because they are unnecessary information: while your perceive everything, you only regard the minimum necessary to satisfy a situation.  Because you never need to know these details of the penny, you find yourself unable to remember them right now, even though you see pennies all the time.  Or if you don't, imagine something else that you do see all the time.  Money & credit cards, plant life around your home, or the architecture of buildings along your commute but which aren't ever your destination are all common examples.  It is this ability to filter that allows us to navigate complicated city routes without knowing the street names: we don't know what the front of every building on every street in the city looks like, but we know just enough to navigate using a few landmarks.  Our brain has boiled down the entire town to just a small handful of landmarks for a given trip and in the process saved much time, certainly an evolutionary advantage.

The marvelous perception-altering nature of LSD is such that you perceive the wonderful patterns, textures, and details of all sorts that're all around us - in nature, in machines, in people's faces, everywhere - which we normally ignore as extraneous stimuli and simply discard any notice of, let alone appreciation.  It is a way of seeing (and hearing, and tasting, and generally experiencing sensations of all types and origin) that we have not experienced for a very long time, perhaps not since before we can remember.  But to experience the goliath, unyielding continuity of reality with an adult brain and understanding is nothing short of breathtaking.

Saturday, September 26, 2015

The Sound Drug

Music is the highest drug you can take.  Sure you've heard all sorts of people who insist that they "get their best high off of LIFE" say foolish-sounding things like this, but c'mon and hear me out.  Can it get you higher than heroin?  I don't know, with a hundred percent surety, because I've never taken heroin.  But what heroin does is give you a chemical shortcut to happiness.  It activates you, it activates you super hard, but in one direction, no?
Sit at the symphony and hear dozens or even over a hundred people belting out their full capacity, channeling their concentrated souls through their instruments.  That isn't one direction, that's a thousand bloody directions all coming at you at once.  You aren't taking one chemical and shooting it into your arm or the space twixt your toes, you're plugging your head and your crotch and your heart into the souls of a whole stage full of people, and not just them but the artisans before them who crafted those instruments too.

Music is a totally insane thing.  There's not a reason it should "work."  The sounds that any man makes are dreamt of in the space of pure originality in that person's mind ergo necessarily completely foreign to the experiences of the listener, yet the listener doesn't find them offensive, or revolting, or even unusual (unless of course that's a compliment): they find them pleasant, reaffirming, resonant, relatable, and even comforting.  The fact that we all group around certain songs can't be irrelevant to the fundamentals of human nature, and by extension the universe (I understand if you see that as a dramatic leap, which today it surely is.  But of course every thing is a variation on the same "things," and the same could be said for vibrations, so it isn't a tremendous stretch to say music is the most extreme & advanced articulation of the fundamental universe we yet have).  The facts that certain songs sound excellent in every genre, or that metalheads can be swayed by electronic freaks, and that classical die-hards can be thrilled by hip-hop compositions, are not trivial.

In that way, music is a critical interaction twixt people much the way that writing-&-reading is...except far more fundamental.  Where writing requires a person to take the interwoven complexity of his thoughts and emotions and force them to condescend to the level of language only to be re-interpreted up an identical but reversed pathway through the reader, music bypasses all these steps completely: a musician & a listener are a pure, evolved, human sense communicating with another human sense.  It's one [or many] people -- temporary collections of energy, vibrations -- creating vibrations to be received by other people, other vibrating collections of energy.  It is surely among the purest forms of one mind talking to and actually understanding another outside of literally Being John Malkovich, that is to say experiencing not just a person's physical sensations but the entire worldview that informs their 'soul,' if I may take and use such an overly-dramatic and over-employed word (for I feel here, now, it is necessary).

So to get back to the point, music may just be the highest drug we can take (on our own, at least.  To steal much popular culture before me, "the most fun you can have with your clothes on.").  With music we aren't just accelerating our mind's chemicals with one [admittedly complex] chemical that we smoke or snort or shoot or swallow.  We are intoxicating ourselves with the minds of others, with the exorbitantly complex interactions that are going on inside our fellow man (there is a universe inside each of us).  We are getting high off of their brain chemicals, by extension their entire beings, for a body could not exist without a brain and vice-versa.  Name a fan of narcotics who does not identify among their most enjoyable activities when high "listening to music."  From weed, liquor, and LSD up to cocaine, barbiturate pills, and heroin, and everything in between, music remains universally enjoyable and even essential to the experience of any given drug, commonplaces like marihuana and liquor included (to say the very least.  I could include sex and Netflix on my list of narcotics if I were so inclined). The point is these are all things people do -- absolutely all of them, from the most wholesome to the most depraved -- to make their situation better, by whatever their present notion and definition of "better" is.  And all of these people include music in their plan for betterness.  All of them.

In no way are we more connected with one another - even if at a distance - than though music.  And that comfort that comes from connectedness is the thing for which we're all looking; it's the comfort that sells every Coke in the country, and every square of LSD too.  There's some Toot, Whistle, Plunk, and Boom in all of us.





The full movie Being John Malkovich appears to be available free on YouTube, at the time of this posting, leastways.

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Forever'll Never Come

That feeling when opening a new handle, like "This shall last forever!"
But forever is never as long as your doctor and your wallet would have you hope. But the inner groove of every album keeps telling you, "forever'll NEVER come baby!"

Monday, August 24, 2015

A Very Late Night

Often I write several things in one night and then wake up to find out what they were.  This is one of those times.

My consciousness and self-awareness will have a battle of wits
while I sit back and chuckle away on the sofa.

Sunday, August 23, 2015

Lightest I've Felt in Years

The truth is you're treating them like enemies, to be bested, because that's all they've ever been to you - competition or non-threats - when what you really want is to be friends.  You want it so dearly.

And realizing that was the lightest you'd felt in years.

Saturday, August 22, 2015

Five Hundred Horses

How do you do it?

What, you think I've a secret or something?  Truth is...[leans in, fake whispers, narrows eyes] I'm fucking nuts, I just route the energy in one direction.  Imagine a thirteen-year-old boy behind the wheel of a Corvette.  Foot to the floor and doughnuts for days, right?

Mmm hmmmm...

The car's brilliant, the secret's to put a focused, calm driver there.  Five hundred horses all pulling the carriage in the same direction?  Beautiful.

Liquor

It's curious

it loves you
like a cat

it spits at your trifles
yet uplifts your victories

makes you fight better
encourages you to write better
bolsters you from the sidelines, no matter how hard you've been beaten
even though it gives its fair share of the punches.

always loves you when you're in need
always offers a helping hand when you're struggling

but never hesitates to stand holdin a hammer 'round your coffin.

She shoves you into the abyss as readily as she offers a hand out,
she'll always help you get where it is you want to go.
She doesn't offer you any advice, though she's centuries of knowledge.
No, she doesn't hold a map and doesn't give you her opinion.  Wherever it is you're trying to get, she puts her hand on your knee and pushes the pedal further to the floor.

she tells you not what door you're opening.
She only passes you the key, and puts her hand gently on yours as you turn it.

Anthony's Two Muses by Ron Lewis