Ye Ol’ Thom’s St

>here we go

drum roll.blog alert.my solution to life the universe and everything (no,really)

destroy offices

the watsons out there will have deduced my vocation as that of one ensconced and exposed to the people one serves very directly,the public.thats why the NHS pisses off every other sector and why politicians hate doctors.cuz doctors ,for all their flaws,dont care about quantity ..(unless theyre epidemiologists maybe,and maybe some microbiologists,which is why other doctors ignore them too…;)

the concept of the public does not exist in the profit dependent workplace,there are only customers.and it is even less clear who is actually being served in this interaction.

so that interaction is gradually itemised and broken down to its perceived constituent parts which is a series of socioeconomic transactions that ,considered in that way,can be more or less automated , (as was the concept of risk in banking) and thus reduced to an impersonal and thoroughly unconvincing artificial virtual encounter.

This affects not only the quality and value of the encounter in its actual detail and subtlety but ultimately dehumanises both sides’s concepts of each other…

and thus follows armageddon where LIBOR is played around with like a pakistani cricket ball (heights that an english football could only mastubate about reaching)

Office detachment,emails replacing 5 strides and Boredom are one of the indirect tools necessary for dealing throughput-ly and turnover-ly to help generate quantity as a substitute for (lack of) quality in matters of huge responsibilty ( and subprime mortgages and credit default swaps and the like) in a profit-centric universe where all that matters are the 100,000 Stone Roses tickets and not the crowd management.

and its closely related and highly esteemed and much more trigger happy fascist military cousin General Detachment has blossomed into all facets of the profit sector since discovering the alchemy of turning real human trust between individuals  into a calculated derivative of trust ( in institutions,governments and promisory notes and further trust in the trust entrusted in those trusts ad infinitum pro quid quo quis custodiet ipsos custodes ad infinitum tai kwon do et al ) that is isomorphic to money itself.

there is no law only lawyers ,I like that one,from the Reith Lectures

Sufficient Proliferation of Detachment will always eventually force it into close quarters with Real Life at which point Real Life (being the only entity with Real Feelings) will be the main loser (primarily because It is the only one with Real Feelings)

so what is it with thom yorke and his voice infiltrating all manner of detached and disembodied automatonic substitutes of music?

once before (in bandcamp) i mentioned the sheer enthusiasm with which some members of the illustriously self proclaiming and self regulating pop gods of the universe have embraced their take on the dishevelled humility of the pathetically ordinary human form

well ol thom has ceased to be visible altogether,he’s just this whiney mopey voice that seems paradoxically suited to the inhuman medium of electronica (ugh…i actually SAID that) and it works..as opposed to when you could actually get irritated by him (it? the voice? ) in Radiohead’s videos

now he’s taken up residency on Planet Mu.Very good choice I daresay,

I dont think that label produces music though,I think it is producing a different morse code for aliens to communicate in,through endlessly different permutatory (can i say that?) explorations of beat structure and waveform alteration.

right up ol thom’s street I suppose

the middle ground

That whole thing that “kids” first started and that the UK transmogrifies so well into something apparently homegrown like kidulthood and now,without having seen it,ill manors.
That English need for overly ambiguous ammorality.where portraying what u r is an excuse for being what u r.its presumably appreciated by those who are in it or those who are at arms length and then comfortably some from the characters depicted or appeasing to some preconceived stereotypes being misunderstood to be “gritty” and “from the street”,something the critics seem to have a dusproportionate predilection for (u can understand how if your career is to watch movies then mainstream and watered down must get quite dull but by increasing your appetite for extremes it makes critics unreliable reviewers for people who don’t spend a fraction as much time watching movies)
So plan b’s slightly evangelical ambitions to educate those he thinks don’t “understand” the psychology of the casual London rioters looters and opportunists betrays a very one dimensional understanding of his audience and the gulf between a circumstantial visionary like banksy and a simpler circumstantial opportunist like himself.

ups and downs

Another one for the sunrise.before all the busy-ness.one for floating arms outstretched and a mouthful of Dead Sea sloshing in and sun blazing down enveloping one within a golden crib.and one gets the sensation of gently rising up with the waters and staring at the cloudless sky one loses sense of ones weight ,breathing slow and rhythmic now.earth and sky body somewhere in between.the release of ones essence and the unification of ones body with space.as the NOW dissolves in the eternal sunshine of a TIMEless and immortal mind.
Then up against your back rises the salty gravel of the lake plundered by irrigation and parted by two worlds and you find yourself most very HERE at the very bottom of a dying lake bed just when you were feelin phaeleh

Auto Rerouter

Four crisp corners curled shyly away.the graininess of the texture satisfied his fingers in a way he couldn’t explain other than its realness
He stared at the ink drying until his eyes watered and then wondered whether the tears were cortical or inflammatory.
“Probably polemic” he decided ” guttural and dull”
His eyelids echoed the sentiment and completed their descent,shedding a lone remaining drop of dissent before dissolving the gateway to cloud 8andahalf.
Fluffy white paper tied in red tape squeezed between an oppressive sky and an unremitting land until all that is left is a sliver of blood between earth and space.
“That’s the glimpse through closed eyelids that beckons the coma of sleepdeath.that’s the final frontier”
And thru that narrow prism is filtered all that is irrelevant and what is left is black reality.as expansive as it is empty,as devoid of matter as meaning.as illusory as its mass.the mass of meaninglessness,the weightiest matter of all,

all visible from behind closed eyelids.

Upon this insight Lisac Luton stop using the Greek euro as a telescope to look into the future and rolled the note up tight to put it in the side pocket of his mini side pocket’s inner pocket.and zipped it up

The Euro burrowed thru Lisacs holy pockets to reach that nether region of no man’s land between planes of cotton,no longer practically accessible but still ever present in Lisac’s mind.(very much like those organs in close proximity to the aforementioned note)
“I have walked in the valley of the shadow of death” he mumbeld , “might need it there”
(it seems pertenient to state at this point that Lisac Luton is not a necrophiliac and is in fact continung to refer to the euro and not to his “organs”)
He had a habit of pointless rhetorical philosophising from years of listening to radio4.
“And I dare speculate that this will be the promisory note of my intentions to return to the land of the living”
He was currently under section4.

Want a Twinkie?

“Huh”
You heard me…
” the euro is talking to me” Lisac accepted this in a similar manner to his resigned acceptance of his haemorrhoids.”if they keep popping out there’s no point shoving them back in all the time…”
He could feel it in his guts.
“That’s where the physical meets the mind” he mused “our most troubling thoughts are expressed earliest thru our bowel actions….”
Toilet paper is the interface between mind and matter.
And the most instinctive outpouring of human emotion is expressed in public toilets….”here I will find the answers.”
And so he set forth under pretence of needing to resolve the matter of consuming more than his generous quota of doner kebabs the night before.It was an institution after all.

Once Upon A Time….were four midget assassins designed to bury tunnels in your brain that would leak sanity through the repetitive trance of fairy tales.
Fairy Tales about supreme beings,fairy tales about superiority.fairy tales about birthright.
All imbibed thru tales of superstition and morals at an age when our brains really are spongy.

The sponge heals around those tunnels but the tracts remain where those widgets continue to dwell,in the deep sulci and fissures,the cracks in that facade.

And Lisac was going to flush ’em out…because he knew a way out which did not involve tarsorrhaphy.
From his days of editing the daily chronicle,disconnecting from the chronic was his business….how?
By reporting the present as if it embodies the future and past simultaneously.those entities only meaning anything because of us here in the present.

His secret weapon.a team of snipers.that could target and bring closure.a duo of snapshooters called HERE and NOW, that could end the tyranny of ONCE UPON A TIME forever.

Conforming relatives with their subjectives.

You might well argue that there’s no point for a relativist to express or espouse his point of view.
But that would be your opinion.
And I empathise with it.
But I don’t sympathise with it.

Because I’m a relativist.
As you might have gathered to your abhorrence.

And universal human rights is in some way acknowledging that when all else is indeed relative let us all ( for our own sakes) try to agree on some commonalities so that we can steer relativism in a productive direction thru some common consensus.

( hence no one truly abides or is accountable to them in any definitively enforceable way because there is no true consensus…because its all relative)

And what’s the point of saying that?

Maybe it allows for an honesty and modesty in debate so that if we all fundamentally accept ourselves as fallible it might enable us to be more compromising in trying to reach a common goal no matter what (if any) transcendental truth there may be out there,which after all is irrelevant if it is outside the scope of a human porpoise.

Despite globalisation human perspectives tend towards the local ( take patriotism and its delinquent brother nationalism)and so it is a curse of coincidence to be part of a transitionally migrant culture…stuck between two worlds, incomprehensible to both and uncertain about the advantages of a minority insight.Proof alone that if wisdom is meant to lead to a contented soul then such insights are evolutionary red herrings of no value to anyone,let alone people who have a secure sense of their identity ,regardless of the clash of conflicts that this identity naturally and maybe necessarily gives rise to.(was it Emily Dickinson who called it the sick soul that has a misguided need to question?)

But here goes

We are all mad hatters stuck in rabbit holes having endless tea parties so grab a flamingo,thwack a hedgehog and chop everyone’s head off but let’s all get along while we’ re at it…oh yeah,and fuck the monarchy…

(As per the US first amendment and any unwritten and unconstitutional,non consensually agreed variations in standard practice thereof,the preceding comments expressed herein and thus forth in no way represent the views and opinions of the tea party and any such resemblance to characters,cards or cats alive,dead,neither or both would be purely thru unintentionally serendipitous coincidences of birth and divine right (a particularly fortuitous combination of circumstances which certain individuals are nevertheless endowed with))

de omnibus dubitandum – et wikipedia quam non feci

Roger Moore on Olivier ” I may not be as good an actor..but I’m taller than he is”
So look I’m going to make this clear in case the Norwegian killer blog was too waffly ( surely not??)

Look people, the politics and influence of the current state of Islamic extremism is ,like any other competing religion and ideology faced with the dominance of a secular western capitalism, absolutely nothing to do with ideas and everything to do with economics.

The influence of religiously self titled reactionary movements is driven by the politics of inequality and envy.

Like a smart fella once said (and Marx would have supported) “its the economy,stupid…(and quit blaming me for fascist dictatorships called communists,dude)”
And that really is it.and anyone (even erudite professors of philosophy at birkbeck college) who insists that there are foreign ideologies that appear to override economic drivers is probably confused by foreign faces and foreign tongues into thinking one is dealing with frikin aliens.
It’s easy for the successful growth of foreign ideologies to be confused as some mystical non western alternative viewpoint held by foriegnors and embodied in the rhetoric of a charismatic spokesman rather than what it really is which is an economically disparate set of circumstances leading to mass public appeal for a plausible promise of a better quality of life rubber stamped with the “flavour of the month” by the looney toon of the moment as far as its more other worldly aims are concerned .hasn’t tahrir square finally shown that clearly thru the very normal desires and wishes expressed by the Egyptian pubic:reliable public services and utilities,fair access to opportunities and trust in the law.

The western image of the “orient” as that mysterious and exotically unknoweable “other” is alive and well and Edward Said might well have been exonerated.
but I’m better looking than him :b

games,galaxies,gardens,gaia and initial impressions about david foster wallace.

All a bit of a hedge fund isnt it?

Because life is a gamble and you only get one go at any particular instance of it.

Do you use stats in your bets?
Are you rational in your final choice?
Is game theory articulating why we aren’t as rational as we think

Gaia and James lovelock whose transdisciplinary scientific apprenticeship pays homage to that platonic ideal of an enlightened leader and the importance of experience as well as education before wisdom is attained.

The transcendental meditative ascent to a better understanding that smooth skinned unweathered zealots are puzzled by.

Offices have subjugated and dehumanized us.they accentuate the self centred tendencies of our nature and shield us from the real consequences of actions by converting all interactions into unintimidating and inconsequential paper transactions.that’s how we’ve been able to end up in a morally mute economics that claims neutrality thru market amorality.
When in human history did abstaining make one impartial?
Isn’t the social contract as real as the free market?
Why does the latter get the credit for mass progress?
Is the prisoner dilemma about empathy and trust.

That charity starts at home and the world will slowly follow.
Is religion telling us about rational mutual advantage over the irrational pursuit of self gain and its nasty brutish and short Hobbesian consequences.
And yet isn’t the paradoxically anti Darwinian conclusion of the prisoner dilemma telling us that to get to a higher level of collectively race preserving enlightenment would 1)be the end of humanity as we recognise it thru 2) an ushering of a next stage of evolution where we do not seek to self preserve ( but in the same way that self sacrifice might be compatible with the the preservation of a gene set’s progeny ie one would gladly die for their children maybe it is just an extension of the same principle for one to self sacrifice if it serves to preserves the race) and 3) thru this very paradox hence to be by definition incompatible with the initiation (and hence survival) of any species.

Your last tear deserts your parched soul to quench the thirsty and alone you stand a stone monolith holding the water table while the miracle of genesis is declared by the blind.
Job wondered why God might ravage the land that has been bountiful and pure.
God ,man has concluded, is a climate terrorist with a big flat foot ,a predilection for even surfaces a weakness for west end musicals and one lone answer for when his pretty galaxy garden is a mess.

STOMP!

and thus thudded the synchronous march sounding the end of the human race and onward forward evermore enlightened rose the borg,no longer burdened by the inertia of loneliness and fear.

Arthur C Clarke for one believed

Arthur C Clarke - Childhood's End