BRANDTRUEBOY

All writing is by "me" unless it's not--follow the yellow brick road of remixed bits and pieces:

Online telepathy
Awareness
Andy Warhol
Fiction
Reality Sandwich
psychoanalysis:

“Turn on’ meant go within to activate your neural and genetic equipment. Become sensitive to the many and various levels of consciousness and the specific triggers that engage them. Drugs were one way to accomplish this end. ‘Tune in’ meant interact harmoniously with the world around you – externalize, materialize, express your new internal perspectives. Drop out suggested an elective, selective, graceful process of detachment from involuntary or unconscious commitments. ‘Drop Out’ meant self-reliance, a discovery of one’s singularity, a commitment to mobility, choice, and change. Unhappily my explanations of this sequence of personal development were often misinterpreted to mean ‘Get stoned and abandon all constructive activity.”

—Timothy Leary (via poortaste)
Comments (View)

“My example concerns a young woman patient who, in spite of efforts made on both sides, proved to be psychologically inaccessible. The difficulty lay in the fact that she always knew better about everything. Her excellent education had provided her with a weapon ideally suited to this purpose, namely a highly polished Cartesian rationalism with an impeccably “geometrical” idea of reality. After several fruitless attempts to sweeten her rationalism with a somewhat more human understanding, I had to confine myself to the hope that something unexpected and irrational would turn up, something that would burst the intellectual retort into which she had sealed herself. Well, I was sitting opposite her one day, with my back to the window, listening to the flow of rhetoric. She had had an impressive dream the night before, in which someone had given her a golden scarab—a costly piece of jewelry. While she was still telling me this dream, I heard something behind me gently tapping on the window. I turned round and saw that it was a fairly large flying insect that was knocking against the window-pane from outside in the obvious effort to get into the dark room. This seemed to me very strange. I opened the window immediately and caught the insect in the air as it flew in. It was a scarabaeid beetle, or common rose-chafer (Cetonia aurata), whose gold-green colour most nearly resembles that of a golden scarab. I handed the beetle to my patient with the words, “Here is your scarab.” This experience punctured the desired hole in her rationalism and broke the ice of her intellectual resistance. The treatment could now be continued with satisfactory results.”

—CG Jung, On Synchronicity, pgs 109-110
Comments (View)
eatsleepdraw: I recently had a dream about the aquarium. I try out new ways of thinking with the ease of putting on and taking off a coat.  The only rule is that there are no rules.  I think in mash-up, I think in rhyme.  I think in dreams—which is to say i get lost in the stories that other people tell me about their dreams. I think when I’m jogging.  I think when I’m all alone in a crowd and when I’m watching someone’s mouth move. I think about things and then I think about the words that make up those things.  It changes from what they mean to how they look and sound.  The entire thought becomes a collage that isn’t ready until the last piece has been applied.  A bit here, a bit there—I add and take away words like a painter dabbing the canvas with a brush.  I try to concentrate on one small task at a time. Like writing one sentence or running one Google Image search. In this way, I can create art in a cubicle, in the midst of email attachments, intercom buzzes, instant message nudges and various internet time sinks and never feel overwhelmed.  The important thing to remember is that everything can be used—even the so-called wasted moments.  Among the greatest revolutionaries are those who were able to turn a prison cell into the Eye of the world.  A life can be ended but an idea can not.  It can be burnt and pulverized and blasted into powder but it will only become stronger. I wrote a scene in which a woman puts out a Craigslist ad and hires sexy women to sit around cutting up the only existing paper copy of her novel manuscript (the hard drive and disc versions having been deleted) using long silver scissors.  They were instructed to cut the pages line by line, turning a pile of paper into a pile of curling fortune cookie streamers.  The author collected all the pieces and shook them up in a plastic garbage bag.  Then she pulled them out, one or two at a time without looking, and these lines became the basis for the lyrics for the album that the book turned into..an album that would go viral online, until it was broadcast across all the internets…eatsleepdraw: I recently had a dream about the aquarium. I try out new ways of thinking with the ease of putting on and taking off a coat.  The only rule is that there are no rules.  I think in mash-up, I think in rhyme.  I think in dreams—which is to say i get lost in the stories that other people tell me about their dreams. I think when I’m jogging.  I think when I’m all alone in a crowd and when I’m watching someone’s mouth move. I think about things and then I think about the words that make up those things.  It changes from what they mean to how they look and sound.  The entire thought becomes a collage that isn’t ready until the last piece has been applied.  A bit here, a bit there—I add and take away words like a painter dabbing the canvas with a brush.  I try to concentrate on one small task at a time. Like writing one sentence or running one Google Image search. In this way, I can create art in a cubicle, in the midst of email attachments, intercom buzzes, instant message nudges and various internet time sinks and never feel overwhelmed.  The important thing to remember is that everything can be used—even the so-called wasted moments.  Among the greatest revolutionaries are those who were able to turn a prison cell into the Eye of the world.  A life can be ended but an idea can not.  It can be burnt and pulverized and blasted into powder but it will only become stronger. I wrote a scene in which a woman puts out a Craigslist ad and hires sexy women to sit around cutting up the only existing paper copy of her novel manuscript (the hard drive and disc versions having been deleted) using long silver scissors.  They were instructed to cut the pages line by line, turning a pile of paper into a pile of curling fortune cookie streamers.  The author collected all the pieces and shook them up in a plastic garbage bag.  Then she pulled them out, one or two at a time without looking, and these lines became the basis for the lyrics for the album that the book turned into..an album that would go viral online, until it was broadcast across all the internets…

eatsleepdraw:

I recently had a dream about the aquarium.

I try out new ways of thinking with the ease of putting on and taking off a coat.  The only rule is that there are no rules.  I think in mash-up, I think in rhyme.  I think in dreams—which is to say i get lost in the stories that other people tell me about their dreams. I think when I’m jogging.  I think when I’m all alone in a crowd and when I’m watching someone’s mouth move. I think about things and then I think about the words that make up those things.  It changes from what they mean to how they look and sound.  The entire thought becomes a collage that isn’t ready until the last piece has been applied.  A bit here, a bit there—I add and take away words like a painter dabbing the canvas with a brush.  I try to concentrate on one small task at a time. Like writing one sentence or running one Google Image search. In this way, I can create art in a cubicle, in the midst of email attachments, intercom buzzes, instant message nudges and various internet time sinks and never feel overwhelmed.  The important thing to remember is that everything can be used—even the so-called wasted moments.  Among the greatest revolutionaries are those who were able to turn a prison cell into the Eye of the world.  A life can be ended but an idea can not.  It can be burnt and pulverized and blasted into powder but it will only become stronger.

I wrote a scene in which a woman puts out a Craigslist ad and hires sexy women to sit around cutting up the only existing paper copy of her novel manuscript (the hard drive and disc versions having been deleted) using long silver scissors.  They were instructed to cut the pages line by line, turning a pile of paper into a pile of curling fortune cookie streamers.  The author collected all the pieces and shook them up in a plastic garbage bag.  Then she pulled them out, one or two at a time without looking, and these lines became the basis for the lyrics for the album that the book turned into..an album that would go viral online, until it was broadcast across all the internets…

Comments (View)