Pop Quiz 1 - Go On Project

 
     Consider the above-linked You Tube Playlist (≅100 minutes for first loop) a foundational element of this course.  It is a tool.  Listening to it (or something similar to it) while mentally working thru the below quiz will enhance/hone your ability to learn to identify your Self and to Go On to become consciously aware of Being.
 
     There are several purposes (more than are explained in these pop-quiz instructions) designed into this looping 21-song mix-tape.
 
     During the first listen, your awareness of your Self's preferences, will check some boxes:
            πŸ—† This is the first time I have heard this song - and,
                    πŸ—† I enjoy this song - or,
                    πŸ—† I do not enjoy this song.
            πŸ—† I have heard this song before - and,
                    πŸ—† I do not mind listening to it again - or,
                    πŸ—† I dislike being forced to listen to it.
            πŸ—† This is a random selection of music.  There is no real reason for their selection or order.
            πŸ—† Occasionally, I notice a connection between some of the songs.  Those connections are all in my imagination, because, listening to them in-this-order forces me to associate them together and to assume connections which do not actually exist.
            πŸ—† Every song is related to the one preceding it in the loop.  Some of those connections are instantly obvious, others take time to realize.
            πŸ—† Every song is somehow-connected to every other song.  The entire loop tells a single story using lyrics, melodies, emotions, rhythm, et cetera.      
 
     During repeated listening, you should focus on evaluating your emotions as they rise into your awareness and then fade from your awareness (to be soon-replaced with another):
             πŸ—† Happy (as in: pleasurably content, comfortable, relaxed, et cetera).
                    πŸ—† Nostalgia?
                    πŸ—† Toe-tapping, leg-bouncing?
                    πŸ—† Goosebumps or chills?
             πŸ—† Ecstatic (as in: energized, dancing or urge to dance, thrilled, et cetera).
                    πŸ—† Racing heart?
                    πŸ—† Tears-of-joy (or a 'bubbling up inside' urge to cry)?
             πŸ—† Neutral (as in: emotionless, placid, uninterested, not-worth-your-time, et cetera).
                    πŸ—† Dopamine-source(s) asking for your Self to pay them some attention?
             πŸ—† Uncomfortable (as in: angry, fearful, bored, confused, disconcerted, pissed-off, et cetera).
                    πŸ—† This era of music is not from my era.
                    πŸ—† The ethnicity of the musicians are not my ethnicity.
                    πŸ—† The lyrics in the song are too difficult to understand.
                    πŸ—† There are mostly instrumentals and odd-sounds (or the instrumental breaks are too long).
                    πŸ—† I like some of that artist's music, but this is not a song I'm familiar with.  Nobody I know listens to this.
                    πŸ—† Why would I intentionally make myself uncomfortable in order to evaluate the under-lying reason(s) that my Self decided (back in my distant long-ago and long-forgotten) that it did not like this music!?

    I can answer that one! . . . Because your current-emotions aren't connected to the long-ago decision-thought(s) which still cause them.  They come from different sources inside your Self.  You think that they're one-and-the-same because they (seem) to happen instantaneously-together.  They do not.  The separation is rarely distinguishable (less than a fraction of a fraction of a second).  Once you recognize the decision-thought which causes your Self to choose to *feel* a negative emotion -- if your today-Self does not want to continue to feel that emotion any more -- you can un-hitch the negative emotion(s) from the decision-thought that originated them.  First, you need to contemplate why you experience negative emotions connected to a song.  Dig down.  Keep asking yourself where the idea came from.  Ask, 'why do I dislike this?'  If it does not come.  That's ok.  Keep listening.  Keep thinking about your feelings.  You don't need to focus on the reasons you like a song.
 
     In the future, you will need to contemplate strong negative emotions related to family members, painful relationships, life-altering experiences, et cetera.  That might (will) be difficult.  This is just music tastes!  Call this:  "Introduction to How To Contemplate Your Negative-Feelings".    

     Hey, professor Veach, since you have already said, 'This is just music and everyone has music they like and music they don't like', why is this quiz important to eventually becoming aware of Self and conscious of Being?

     That question almost answers itself.  Music preferences are a relatively wide-spread reality in today's culture.  Therefore it's a simple issue to take this quiz and immediately be able to realize our preconditioned and self-programmed music tastes.  We know how to listen to music and how to know if something new-to-you might "fit" into your current tastes.   Now, all you need to do is allow yourself to keep listening to these 21 songs in-entirety.  No cherry-picking.  No stopping mid-song or mid-playlist.  Give yourself 100 minutes and focus on your emotions. 
 
     This loop exists as a continuous 100 minute video.  Because of US copyright laws, it is only possible for me to send this video-quiz via email.  Let me know if you are interested (veachglines@gmail).
 
     Also, it is recommended you use ad-free YouTube Premium and high-quality headphones. 
 
     This is a self graded quiz. 
 

  
 
 
 
 
Go On:

 
                    
    

Artists are Terribly People (Go On Project, Lecture #1)


    Did you just say that you read a T-shirt proclaiming: "artists are terribly people?" they asked with a wry smile in their voice and the same old nascent lazy-eye vexed anew, in their imaginary facial expression.  But, just hold the fuck on here! . . . (isn't a question mark implied after the word 'expression' as much as it is, at the end of this group of words) — oops, you didn't put a question mark down at the end, again.  Why not?  But you did place one just there.  So punctuation use, or unuse (lack of use?  disuse?  un-use?) is artistic license as long as we agree that the words we are reading have been created by an artist.
 
    "This feels like the preface for the beginning of professor Veach's initial Go On Lecture Series.  The one where he (at this point, the sub-textual words: 'attempts to' will be read one way by some readers, and in another way—at this point—by other readers) weaves a story with its own plot while incorporating an interesting philosophical argument into the message."  They thought to themselves because these were the words, which were, now, (slowly) causing them to realize they were (actually) agreeing to allow some assfucker (could Professor Veach be an assfucker?  Ass fuckery is—-- ok, make there be heard a dial-up modem sound at this point --because the person who wrote these lettersentences and punctuation thinks it's funnyPunctuation Marks!
 
  *giggle* Because you allowed me to raise your inner voice and now you are allowing me to imagine the Full Metal Jacket Drill Sergeant as he stares down under the brim of his amazingly stiffly starched Mountie hat at first onto you and then into you, with his unique type of bug-eye-stare, which you have agreed (with everyone who sees it) communicates wordlessly:  This entire society has given my brand of unhinged, their full-permission to be as much of an ass-fuck, to you . . . who are currently-now a member of this relatively small group of this society's strongest youthful-young-YOU . . . who possess the most violent/attracted-to-risk-embracing (internal-drug addled) minds", as he forcefully shouts, "Give These Punctuation Marks a God Damned Reach Around!!  

    This is a strange agreement you have entered into.  Do you agree?  You are listening to my words - my lecture - which is you implicitly allowing me to tell you what is unfolding from the inside of my brain and (*) putting it inside your brain. 

    This lecture's transcript will be read an unknown number to times.  Unknown to me, the person who is typing, and unknown to you (the reader, every reader, someone reading it out loud, someone who decided to turn these words into a script, the actor who contracts with a group of administrators-over-actors to say these words with their 'currently-successful in current-day society's brand of unhinged') and even unknown to our overloard-computer-monitoring-programs who will BELIEVE they have an accurate tally.  But.  No-matter what beliefs are believed, by whom-what-when [www] ever, the number will always fall somewhere between one and infinity (1 - ∞).
 
     Not between zero and infinity (0 - ∞) because the artist had to read-see it when they transferred it from a collection of unlabelled-with-words things that we-all (both of us) agree to call 'THOUGHTS'.  Into a whomwhatwhen [WWW] before stringing that collection together into labels.
 
     O fuckin K.  ok.  Oll-Korrect.  Sorry.  Please excuse my (obvious-to-all, including my inner editor) overuse of certain verbal-mannerisms, which become an over-reliance on written punctuation marks and result in: a strange collection of run-on words and hyphens—or m-dashes—between words, which are obviously violations of some little book somewhere on "Proper Grammar".
 
     Critics all.  Our minds, our selves (Self's) are self-programmed (without a visible on/off switch) to treat "new-to-you" or "less-than-ordinary" experiences (like this one) with a highly critical eye.  Which could be labelled 'close-minded-disdain' when viewed from outside of our selves.  We, on-the-other-hand, NEVER think we are behaving disdainfully.   Everyone labels themselves 'open minded'.  When have you ever thought, *well, that was extremely close-minded of myself*?
 
     I suspect that most listeners/viewers of this artwork (on first listen/read) fall somewhere between nonplussed-confused and disdainfully-irritated.   So much so, that they (you) are more-than-likely *at this very moment* reluctant to consider it a legitimate artwork, because the word-itself says: 'work of art' and *where does he get off*? . . And, referring to himself as an artist? . . with the title professor? (albeit un-capitalized) and now calling this lecture an artwork?  Well.  I'll, disdainfully, be the judge of that.
 
     Maybe both listeners and viewers of this lecture's transcript would be less inclined to unfurl their inner critic if this lecture was composed of dried linseed-oil and pigment splattered on canvas, displaying to viewers various light-refracting and non-refracting molecules, which might be communicating a deeply mysterious message within its abstraction.
 
     Mystery may be mysterious, but it always causes curiosity in the curious.
 
     But.  This lecture is also riddled with mystery.  It is possible to speak-or-write plainly, with easily understood sentences, and with paragraphs which contain identifiable concepts.  All-the-while, keeping the listener confused and thinking.
 
     Isn't there a part of you that thinks: *I don't understand where he's going with this, but I'm still willing to keep reading/listening until I, either, "get it"- or - something I hear/read "pushes me too far" and I quit - or - the lecture comes to an end*?
 
"...contains quite a few too many repetitious uses of clichΓ©-squiggles, which reminds this viewer of corkscrews..." - Anonymous mouse, who likes the pun in the screen-name 'a non-e-mouse'
 
           πŸ’­and which reminds a non-e-mouse of a relatively large animal's penis.
          (and, the reason his inner self labelled the corkscrews as "subjectively negative", was-and-still-is 40-years-later, because he (as a 4 year-old) stare-giggled at the sight of a massive petting-farm pig as it failed to copulate with a petting-farm goat . . . and was given a strong amount of pain (beaten until the sight of blood caused the pain-giver to stop) by the adult from whom they had grown accustomed to receiving good tasting things from, and whom they called by the name Dad.  This pain caused their 4-year old self to associate that corkscrew visage with that punishment (for decades longer than it took for the basis for the entire memory to disappear).
        
     Which was/is too bad.  Because if a non-e-mouse were to self-hypnotize (meditate, practice mindfulness, actively contemplate, etc.) they could recall the actual reason they had been giggling was because *the pre-schooler's television-cartoon-laden mind* found humor in the pig's frustrated-focus compared with the anthropomorphized, look on the goat's face, as the pre-schooler imagined the goat was saying: 
         "I don't have time to give you a piggy-back ride, Porky!  Can't you see they have tasty stuff in their hands, which I want to put in my mouth, and chew and swallow until I don't want to chew-n-swallow any more!" 
     Also.  A non-e-mouse could, then, interpret (thru the lens of intervening decades) that their then-parent's anger may have been trained/programmed by their own parent.  And, a non-e-mouse might decide (rightfully or wrongfully—no matter—the truth is what the Self chooses) to conclude that many pre-television era farmers prevented their off-spring from deciding to commit bestiality with a belting as soon as it was suspected. 
            "Gotta nip that corruption in the bud!" - quote from every great-great-not-so-Grandpappy Ubiquitous
⧫ ⧫ ⧫ RETURN FROM IMAGINATION ⧫ ⧫ ⧫
(an echo of the word 'THOUGHTS' . . . 'thoughts' . . . gradually increasing)

     These thoughts are THOSE things inside us, which exist before we say them.

     Thoughts are THESE things inside our brains, which we think exist, because there are some large portion of them, which we first become aware of and then never do anything with.  We leave them unsaid.  We never think of them again.  We never jot them down.  

     There are an uncountable-number of awareness's, ideas, and "fleeting thoughts" that are never acted upon and are never turned into anything tangible.  These things never get out of our imaginations.

     We consider that any thought, which we "mull over" or "ponder on" for a long time or with a sufficiently strong enough focus to both be able and willing to refer to as an INNER IDEA, that because it was never expressed in any way (not spoken, not written, not photographed while hiking in the woods) — that it has no value and can simply "be forgotten" as soon as some other thought is considered valuable enough to push it out of the way.  And then we decide (? - or - is erasing random thoughts an automatic survival mechanism?) to either express that new thought aloud - or - write it down - or - type into our hand-held - or - sketch it out, so that we might, someday, turn that valuable idea into some form of dried linseed-oil and pigment display of various light-refracting and non-refracting molecules artwork. 

     An artwork is an attempt to use the brain-eye's sense of recollection and comparison in-concert-with the brain-hand's fine-tuned dexterity.  This ability is either "trained" by self-practice - or - "programmed" by ancestral DNA - or - "innate" to the luck-gods - or - is merely a side-effect of possessing this combination of traits and there is "absolutely no other reason".
 
     It could be that every organism in the Universe (visible and un-visible from Earth; known and unknown by Earthlings) which happen to possess the combination of:   complex eyes, fine-tuned thumb-touch, and sufficient cranial-thought recollection-and-comparison ability — can always use the combination to imagine and to, then, try to capture those imaginary images for future reference.
 
     Capturing imaginary images is communication with one's future self.  Showing those imaginary images to another (who also possesses complex-eyes and sufficient cranial-thought recollection-and-comparison ability) is advanced communication.  In layman's terms, it's called showing your artwork to a friend.
 
     Show a picture of a cute baby mouse at this point.
 
     Imagining is just a survival mechanism.  The baby mouse learns by watching the entity, which gives it stuff that tastes good.  When big enough to want to have more of the stuff, which tastes good, than the entity is currently providing (or intentionally stopped providing) the baby follows and learns to find its own stuff that tastes good.

     The adolescent mouse learns by avoiding getting pain from the entity which gives it pain.  When big enough to want to have less pain, than the entity is providing (or intentionally started providing) the adolescent un-follows and learns to avoid pain. 
 
     Adult mice survive because they have imagined future actions (want to have) which they compare to their present state, this activity is acceptable to think of as:  a state of lacking something they would not know they were lacking, if it were not labelled by their minds as something pleasurable, which they would like to re-experience because without it they experience pain (discomfort, hunger, sexual urges, etcetera).

     Make there be another (second) audible second dial-up modem sound at this point. 

     Ass fuckery is a pleasurable experience for those who have taught themselves how to relax their anal sphincter, thoroughly clean their own rectum, apply lubrication, and not to equate the internal stimulation with (the programmed-emotion) of shamefullness.
 
     There are a too-many-to-count-number of people who were taught to believe (by their own Great-great-not-so-Grandpappy Ubiquitous's) that anal stimulation is an irredeemable and unforgivable act.  Grandpappy Ubiquitous's have decided it is so shameful that it is not only punishable by death, but—after the assfucker or assfuckee has been killed—their terrible awareness will forever exist in the most pain their-long-deceased-Grandpappy Ubiquitous's ancestors could ever imagine: burning in the hot lava, which forms the (imaginary) pits of hell. 
 
     Can you imagine why this might be something billions of long-deceased-ancestors have conspired to construct in their imaginations and preach/share with their progeny as well as incorporate into the doctrine of their religions? 

     In conclusion:

     Random thoughts become cogent ideas the longer one contemplates them.

     Ideas are only valuable (to you and others) if you are able to objectively evaluate why you have them, discover where they originate, discard those which were passed along from some ubiquitously self-centered person (who considered everyone else in their world to be an unimportant background character because they were incapable of empathy) and to communicate those valuable ideas to yourself and others.

     Take-home assignment:  Please contemplate the title of this lecture "Artists are Terribly People" and formulate your thoughts around those four words until you have a new-to-you, original idea, which you can communicate.  At this time, no essay is required.  However, be prepared to explain your train-of-thought(s) relating to these four words during our up-coming discussion class.  I intend to focus that discussion on how your individual imaginations influenced your mental process(s).

     The next lecture in this Go On Project will introduce-and-expound-upon how to employ your imagination to identify empathy in your own mind, and (subsequently) how to incorporate empathy into your future actions, as well as how to identify the difference between sympathy and empathy in one's self (and others).

       
(*)  The fact that you, for your own reasons, are willing to lend some credence to my thoughts and possibly incorporate them into your future-self's future-behaviors, future-concepts, and future-thoughts is something pleasing to me because I RESPECT any creative brain which shows it possesses(¹) traits which I store-and-hold in a mental inner happy place, which I created/possess, and which—I posit—somehow got shoehorned into my learning-to-read-by-reading-aloud-self's mind when I discovered tales written by other humans which entertained and captured my imagination with sufficient levels of personally-generated chemicals that I wanted to repeat the experience.
      Which resulted in asking a Librarian (title used here to impart word-as-honorific) to point me to the isle where I hoped more of that personally-generated chemical stimulation would be stored.  It was.  I became addicted.  Addicted so much that I chose to learn/taught myself how to create my own punctuated-lettersentences.  Eventually, I possessed a mind which I RESPECT enough to enjoy some of my own artworks.

(¹)  Don't you just get an inner-tingle when certain words slither-role? (Didn't you just get it again?  Slither roll, slitheroll, ummm) . . . Slither-roll possesses a vindictively unparallelled level of nonpoisonousness to my sensibilities.
 
     Footnote under the footnotes (closing thought):
 
     There are people who have never had a brain-chemical reaction to any collection of punctuated-letterwords, who have no comprehension as to why the use of one's imagination can make them more intelligent, happier, healthier, and a more-honest individual (to themselves and others).  I am someone who thinks of those people with deep sorrow.  And, I feel this way even though I realize "they" can not fathom why I (or anyone) might actually feel sorry for someone else's inability to experience something so simple that it can be described in one sentence:  Learn to enjoy reading.

Eclectic Reading for Go On Students:
 
 

 

Gender Neutral Honorific New-to-you (for Zero)

 
      "Hey there!  Hey!  Don't step on me mister!"

      "Whoz-at down there?"

      "Red Eft, here!  Pronouns: they/them, honorific: newt*.  You don't mind if I keep moving while we talk, do ya?"
 
      "Nice to see you -ahh- Neww-t.  Never used 'Newt' as an honorific.  This is a first for me.  And, I enjoy when I do something for the first time and can recognize itz a novel experience thatz happening to me.  Gonna take some time to familiarize myself with how it feelz-n-such.  I'm pleased you called out to me, though ... Neww-t ... 'cause I didn't see you at first."

      "First time for you!  Nice.  So, before now, what did you say to someone new-to-you, who was not displaying visually identifiable colors or shapes or smells or sounds and such in order to communicate their gender?"
 
      "Well, ahh, we, ahh, I ... would choose not use any honorific until I knew if they were a 'sir' or a 'ma'am' or a 'doctor' or a 'yer highness' or a 'your majesty'... Neww-t."
 
     "I see!  It sounds very-much-as-if you are normally perceived as impolite or rude, by most of the world.  That doesn't bother you?"

     "Oh.  Well.  I don't know if thatz accurate, I mean..."

     "Is this another first-time for you?  I am so happy to have afforded you the opportunity to have two firsts inside of such a brief time!  You looked down and then asked me, 'who is that down there' and clearly—you were unaware that it sounded brisk and unfriendly.  Polite and friendly would have been to ask 'who is that down there, newt'.  If I were displaying my dark greens then you would have been correct to ask me 'who is that down there, sir' and if I chose to display my yellows then you would have been correct to ask me 'who is that down there, ma'am'.  Oh!  I'm not communicating something clearly, am I, mister?  Because you have chosen to display the nonverbal expression that can only be described as befuddled."
 
      "Red.  Neww-t.  I am sorry.  You are speaking clearly.  Thatz also the face I make when I am processing new-to-me information.  I process slowly.  I'm older."
 
      "Well I can see you are older just by looking at your size—you are so much older than me!  But, if I may give you a tiny bit of advice?  You, sir, pronounce the gender neutral honorific like a clumsy.  I just heard you use it's un-abbreviated form: new-to-me, which—when shortened—is newt.  You drop the word 'to' in the middle.  After the 't' and before the 'o'?  Most of the time it sounds like you are calling me a Newt.  Also rudeness.  Like—as if—I were to call you 'human' instead of 'sir'.  Very different.  You see?"
 
      "You have been very helpful, newt.  I do have a question about your orange color.  Respectfully.  I was informed that itz a 'poisonous to eat' warning.  Zat true?"
 
      "I do not know the answer to your question, mister, and, I've never heard about it from any others of my species.  Why do you ask?  Are you hungry?"
 
      "No, Red.  Just curious to know if what I was once told or read was a truth.  If it was actually a fact or if—like almost everything in the world that I've not personally experienced—it was just another fabricated belief, passed down from some long-dead doctor-scientist to another ignorant old human.  Like my Self.  I'm working on getting rid of concepts, assumptions, suspicions, and beliefs that I have no actual experience with, and which I have not personally verified the veracity of."
 
     "But.  If I said that I was, or was-not, poisonous - and related a story which, in my mind, would confirm or deny it—you still would not have actually verified it yourself.  Right?  You would need to eat me to change your as-yet-not-verified belief into a personally-known truth?"

      "Yes, newt-Red.  That is correct."

      "And if your previous belief turned out to be true, you might die smarter!"

      "You, dearest newt, are missing the point in its glorious entirety!  And—finally—I can share something new-to-you:  I have just come to realize, while talking with you, that the foundational bedrock of the reason to rid myself of all the brain clutter and non-mandatory mental stuff, which I don't really know to be true (because I've never personally experienced it), is because itz better to accept that I do not know something—like your poisonous or nonpoisonous nature—than to continue to blindly accept what I've been informed about the all-of-everything for my entire life!
      I can, now, welcome never being uncomfortable with the continuous urge to know.  Or, to put it in a positive manner: I am comfortable (and will go on being comfortable) only accepting that I know only the very, very, few truths which I have experienced first-hand.  Everything else is hearsay.  Everything else has no bearing on my actual core being.
      My central Being is not connected to awareness of anything based on assumptions or beliefs or superstitions or even actual facts (which I've yet to experience with my own senses).
      My human Self, on the other hand, is a 'metaphorically-separate' mental entity.  It is responsible for keeping me safe and alive.  It BELIEVES you are poisonous to the touch and could make me die if I ate you.  So, I let my Self decide not to touch you, and I keep on living.
      My Being has no desire to touch you, newt Red Eft, because it is comfortable not knowing.  Happy not knowing.  Content not knowing.  Voluntarily not knowing.  Intentionally not knowing.  And not because moving one more little tiny piece of information from my personal 'belief column' to my 'true-knowledge' column would cause you harm.  But because Not Knowing is Being."
 
*Editor note:  Pronouncing the gender-neutral honorific - newt - sounds like saying 'nude' without drawing-out the word.  Pronouncing the species name - Newt - draws out the vowel and lands-hard on the T.  
 
go on reading:
 
 
 

Toward a Psychology of Being (Go On: Reading Curriculum)

 
      
     Composed, in a stitched-together manner, in the 1960s by Abraham Maslow (famous for his Hierarchy of Needs) from a collection of his speeches and previously published articlesToward a Psychology of Being is a valuable examination of how one extraordinarily intelligent clinical psychologist, with a keen awareness of how to differentiate the discrete variations between traits displayed by human minds that other human minds (namely, his own and those of his colleagues who would have attended his lectures/speeches as well as read his published articles) had chosen to label "healthy" (which would include his own and those of his colleagues) compared to those he and they had chosen to label "unhealthy".
  
     While I read these 175 pages, I came to realize what it must have been like to possess an overly-academic worldview  **self-constructed by an ego that had learned to recognize its own accomplishments and knew it was genius-level, while at the same time was now aware there was a higher accomplishment, which was beyond its current capabilities: that of a self which had become actualized and/or fully conscious.**  and THIS TOPIC was what he decided to research, further-study, and then write articles and give speeches about.  It is as if you (dearest reader) decided to interview, and test, and observe, and experiment on, all the humans who have travelled to space, and the moon, and the space-station, and then compile their responses and your conclusions into "scientific findings" which describe what it must be like to be an astronaut.  Without you ever leaving Earth.
 
     It is slightly confounding to read these collection of papers (peppered with the occasional printing error and typographical mistake) and not wish that a keen editor would have fixed the missing or mis-spaced punctuation marks; would have added the 't' in front of the 'he' so that I would not have to lose my train-of-thought (?what person is being described as a 'he' in the middle of this? . . . oh . . . Maslow meant to write 'the thought about' not "he thought about".)  But the overall gestalt of this book is the perfect preface for the next book in the Go On Reading Curriculum.  Read it.

     If, however, you find that you can not; that this book is too complicated for you to read?  It means this is your bridge-too-far, and you will not Go On.  A terrible man (depicting a more-terrible character in a relatively-terrible film) once said, "A man has got to know his limitations."  Every dangerous or risky or complicated endeavor has some form of built-in warning.  Like cartoon characters with their wing raised and a sign reading: MUST BE TALLER THAN THIS TO RIDE THE ROLLER COASTER in order to prevent children from slipping out of the safety harness at the top of the loop-to-loop, this imperfect book contains much needed information for your imperfect self to become more aware of itself.  It is difficult-but-not-impossible to read, cover-to-cover, while you spend as much time as you need contemplating everything it communicates.   But.  For those who still want to Go On:  read, study, think about, discuss, and read more of everything (philosophy, theology, psychology, biology, physics, etc) and then come back to Maslow when you have spiraled up and out of blue, orange, or even green [although most shades of green, (and even some orange-green's) are already capable of comprehending Maslow enough to Go On].  You did read the first book in the Reading Curriculum, right? 

     As a side-note: Abraham Maslow wrote (in a different book) "If the only tool you have is a hammer, it is tempting to treat everything as if it were a nail".  This is known as the Law of the Instrument.  A few years ago, I wrote the article: Don't Act Like a Nail and Complain About Hammers describing a debilitating affectation, which is worn like underclothing by a few people with whom I was once affiliated, known as Vulnerable/Covert Narcissism (which Maslow would have labelled as an "unhealthy mental affliction").  At the time, I did not attribute the title of that article to Maslow, because I took it way out of his intended context, as well as because other authors had also used it within their own contexts.
 complexly-connected:

 
 
 
 
    

manbug I VOTED sticker



          The world is (depending on where you are located in the northern hemisphere this summer of 2022):  either actually on fire, literally flooded under water, almost completely without drinking water, or an amalgam of so-too-incredibly hot and humid that only a complete and utter fool would deny Climate Change is real.  Oh, and hurricane season is imminent and (of course) expected to be especially damaging.
 
          I still cringe when I hear someone cough in a phlegmy and uncovered wayno matter that I've received a second C-19 booster.  And don't dismiss Monkey Pox as only affecting a specific minority of the population; it is spreading quickly through any saliva-on-skin-contact.  Masks are back on.
 
          Abortions are no longer a federally protected freedom for about half of the US population.   It is possible that the federal protections afforded same sex marriages will, also, soon disappear. 
 
          And there is one thing EVERYONE can do about all of this:  Vote.
 
          For.  Anyone.  Who.  Is.   Not.  A.  Republican.   (It will not make much difference in your lifetime—howeverthe 115℉ (45℃) temperatures this decade are going to become 130℉ (55℃) in the 2050's, and your grand-kids are not going to like that grandpa and grandma kept voting Republican because they wanted to pay less taxes and they did not care about anybody but themselves.) 


more:

 
 
 
          

Addendum to The Silver Fox Story

 

rechargeable LED pet collar
          Last month a fox ate some stale crusts of bread

          Left out in my yard for squirrels and birds

          My weak flashlight-torch combined with my

          Ignorance (silver fox are very different from grey fox)


          Last night my cat, Cecil, and I watched for

          More bats and fireflies in almost-complete darkness

          While in my lap, I extinguished his collar


          Silent minutes passed until Cecil slowly turned to

          Stare below-back-down-behind the lawn-chair we were in

          My light revealed a nose-to-tail-black fox (with just a slight dusting of silver-ash)

          She dashed under my neighbor's fence without learning if there were any snacks left out

          There were not.  Not that night.


 

Silver Grey Fox on Picnic Table

 
grey fox on picnic table

silver fox on picnic table
          
          Evenings in late spring
 
          When temperatures are newly short sleeved and sweaters are no longer
          With daylight taking slightly longer to recede and the last of the Swifts
                    (or Turns, I don't know how to tell the difference)
          Bank and scree above the tree tops until they are all gone for their nests
          Then the first firefly of this year blinks his bold availability cross the yard
          While a hummingbird sneaks a nightcap before whirring to her branch
          And all bird and insect and reptile sounds echo away to near quietude 
          I take refuge from the mosquitoes on my screened-in back porch
          As the occasional bat dips and dives for those it can sense in the shadows
          
          My attention is focus-snagged on a relatively-loud and very distinct sound 
          Smacky chew-crunching like that of a dog (obviously nearby) and I recall
          There were still portions of leftover stale bread crusts on my picnic table
          My light reveals a grey silver fox (with a smaller head than I'd have imagined)
          Finishing what was too-stale by the previous day's corvids and squirrels
 
          It came back ten nights later to insure I got a better look
          Now, I know the difference (and rarity) between a silver and a grey fox

similar:

 

Spiral Dynamics (Go On: Reading Curriculum)

 
          Confused by it all?  Want a way to understand why you are confused?  Do you have a desire to learn where and why every human who ever lived (and who will ever live) has done (and will do) what they are doing?  This book is mandatory reading for those who have finished listening to the audio essays, speeches, and guidance from Go On Part 1, before listening to Go On Part 2 (coming soon).


          In my present (May 2022) the Covid19 pandemic is less effective at killing humans than it had been for the last two years; Russia is less effective at murdering Ukrainians than most humans thought it would be (and--conversely--Ukrainians are more effective at defending themselves); the very-much un-united states has now become the fundamentalist theocracy that it has been attempting to become for decades; and I have survived an appendectomy and antibiotic-caused colitis symptoms as I strive to flow the rainbow-spiral.  

Note:  The authors of this book are blind to their own incompetence's academically intelligent (they both decided not to employ qualified editors and are completely clueless as to how to write a book almost everyone might enjoy reading).  However, if you already read this book and found it to be an easy read (and don't understand why I found it to be torture) congratulations on your PhD, professor! 
  • Skip the doubly-extensive and poorly constructed introductions and absolutely do not begin reading at the front of the book.  Instead, begin by a scan of the chart on page 300-301.
  • While reading the following portions, let your attention flow past any/all sentences which reference the author's penchant for: endlessly listing examples, obscure cultural references, name-dropping, and the author's incessant need to pat themselves on the back or point out how smart that they think they are.  [Think of this as you attempting to speed read.]
  • The oddly confusing (and sometimes very wrong) cultural references are deeply rooted in the author's rich, old, white, privilege.  These sometimes humorous but never interesting to read pseudo-metaphorical references make this entire book seem like it was written for the audience of a 1996 magazine.
  • Scan over the Yellow section (pages 274-285).  It is valuable.  The authors actually read and/or talked with people who are Yellow.  They themselves are not, but they want to be.
  • Briefly scan over the Turquoise section (pages 286-292).  It is conjecture and hypothetical.  
  • Read the Orange, Green, Blue, Red, and Purple sections (between pages 201 and 273).  It is not necessary to read them in any order.  If you are uninterested in some areas, skip it.
  • Finish with Chapter 2 (pages 34-38).
  • If you find this amount of information sufficient, that is all that is required to continue with the Go On project.
  • If you want to read more (because you are a CEO, or a politician who recognizes a way to flow from Blue-Orange and can envision the calm peacefulness of Yellow) reading the rest of the book might help.


Course Curriculum (Go On, Part 1)

 
           Core coarse chores course curriculum (the first unnecessary words were left in-place because it's one of the ways to both differentiate, whileat the same timeshowing how much our minds are different).  Another way to display the (obvious to me) different control mechanisms of my (Asperger's) brain/mind and yours is to point out that I am aware the phrase which begins after the first comma contains incorrect grammar.  I should have either used two gerunds: 'of differentiating while ... showing'.  Or none: 'both differentiate and ... show'.
 
          A third way would be to share some unimportant things from the pile of shit-I-have-coached/coaxed/coerced-into-my-mind.  This could also be an answer to:  "If someone wanted to begin studying Philosophy [with no desire to afford obtain a diploma, because they felt no need to prove (to others) they spent money and time learning about knowledge} where would that someone start?" 

          Start where you want.  But.  Maybe you might want to start at a point which allows you to gradually come to understand why you want—might GO ON wanting in the near futureto keep knowing which allows you to know more.  To understand why you know what you think you already might have known. 

         




































 

          PS: When you get tangled in the flow of investigating one, or many, of these essays; pause and listen to some (or many) of the rhythms compiled in the last video.  Or just give yourself some space to locate the knots and time to grasp the rest.   It really is as simple as meditating listening without falling asleep.

Coincidental Synchronicity


yestereve,

naΓ―ve

whachamacalit

(pallet)

now y'll recall it

 

Merit Badge (Narcissist Hunter)

 

related:
 
 

All About You

 
          Above all, do not lie to yourself.  The person who lies to themself (and listens to their own lie) comes to a point that they can not distinguish the truth within them or around them and so loses all respect for themselves and for others.  Andhaving no respectthey cease to love.
                                        - Fydor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov
 
Now and then I think of when we were together
Like when you said you felt so happy you could die
Told myself that you were right for me
But felt so lonely in your company
But that was love and it's an ache I still remember

You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness
Like resignation to the end, always the end
So when we found that we could not make sense
Well you said that we would still be friends
But I'll admit that I was glad that it was over

But you didn't have to cut me off
Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing
And I don't even need your love
But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough
No you didn't have to stoop so low
Have your friends collect your records and then change your number
I guess that I don't need that though
Now you're just somebody that I used to know

Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over
But had me believing it was always something that I'd done
But I don't wanna live that way
Reading into every word you say
You said that you could let it go
And I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know

(chorus)
 
          In 2011 this song, by Gotye, Somebody That I Used To Know, quickly became an earworm grating on earbones.  Walk Off The Earth's cover was less grating because my eyebones were entertained by the unique performance.

          Since that time, I've found myself playing spot-the-narcissist frequently enough that, in 2021, I was awarded the Advanced Narcissist Hunter merit badge (a hand behind a back with two crossed fingers and a lighted gas lamp hanging over the wrist). 
 
          If you, dear reader, are struggling to understand (feigning confusion)—then, bless your black heart—you're the narcissist Dostoevsky and Gotye are describing.
 
 
 
 
 
more:
 
 

Feeling is the secret - Neville Goddard

 

 
          Lay down.  Get comfortable.  Play this 40-minute audio book (watching the video is not needed and headphones are not needed).

          If I were teaching an intermediate-level pass-fail course called:  Conscious Awareness: Meditation versus Mindfulness versus Prayer this would be a foundational class.  I would play the audio book in a classroom with everyone laying on a yoga mat (doors locked, lights off, phones put away) and then ask everyone to discuss.  Students would be given a week to submit an essay detailing their perspectives.  Just like many foundational classes, passing this class would be mandatory to enroll in more advanced classes. 

          Intermediate-level because there are some prerequisites.  One needs to already know about consciousness, brain chemistry, physiology, religious philosophy, and meditation.  Also, it is important to understand that the author adds quotes from the christian bible (as do other important philosophers) and why it is extremely valuable information none-the-less.  In fact, it is crucially important to discuss the various biblical quotes in a non-religious context (e.g. the reason Goddard uses the term 'prayer' instead of the more appropriate term: 'meditation').

How to Begin, Middle, and End

 

 
          If you don't have ten minutes to listen to this man's advice, now, today, then--whenever you learn that I died--find ten minutes at that point and listen to it.  And take everything he says during this TED talk as if some asshole you once called by my name was claiming this was the one piece of advice I wish I had gotten earlier in my life and the one piece of advice I wish I had passed along more often.  To you. 

Our holiday weekend (NOAA graphics)

 
           For those who find NOAA's above graphic difficult to read:  our MLK holiday weekend is expected to be cold for a few nights [-15℉ / -26℃] and then snowy for a few more inches ⛇.   I live comfortably inside "delightful" when I see these predictions, as well as when I experience myself in it.   If you or someone you know would find this "frightful" then you have something to be thankful for!  (That you don't live here.)    

How My Mind Works (Rat Thunderdome)

 
          Sitting in front of the screen the oth'a-daay (which sounds just like a Letterkenny intro) I heard a slight splosh from the adjacent bathroom.  Which cat knocked what item, swiiish-nothin-but-water, into the toilet?was my first cogent thought.
 
          I sat up.  The cats were both at my feet.  They appeared to just be starting to refocus their attention (from contented catnap dreams) to the open bathroom door.  I stood, entered the bathroom, and turned on the overhead.
 
          Nothing.  No noise.  I looked at the bathtub, the sink, and the toilet.   Is the surface of the water in the toilet moving ever-so-slightly?  Is that a droplet of water on the seat?  I took a step closer and saw a smallish very wet rat attempting to tuck itself in the shadow under the front rim of the bowl (about half the size of the rat in this stock photo).
 
          Envisioning the potential of my apartment becoming a Tom and Jerry episode with the well-rested felines gleefully working in tandem to reenact the Jurassic World "clever girl" Velociraptor scene (because they have never seen Tom and Jerry) I closed the door, tucked a bath-towel in the crack at the bottom and then (in a foolish attempt to trap and not spook) I slowly lowered the toilet lid and grabbed a heavy pair of rubber dish gloves my wife uses when she dyes her hair.

          While yank-stretching the wrist of the second yellow glove (heavily stained turquoise) the spooked rat crawled between the bowl and seat, landed on the linoleum with a splat, and (from its perspective) hid behind the trash bin.  Since (from my perspective) it was in full view, I reached down to grab it.  It screamed at my face.

          I was already aware rats can scream.  Rodents can at-times be heard scurrying in the walls of our building and, occasionally, I've heard them squeak in sufficient tone and volume (sometimes followed by what would only be described as tussle and chase and silent running through the ceiling) that my mind pictures one of two scenarios: Gimme that! or Get away!  So I was not completely taken off guard when immediately following the mouth fully open tongue tight against bottom teeth scream I heard rat feet behind me in the wall begin to scrabble and vibrate down the interior of the wall's rough fiberglass bathtub stall.  Instinct caused me to glance over my shoulder before I smiled down on the grey-brown vermin and said, "You calling in reinforcements on me?"  It dashed around the back of the toilet, crossed the shower mat, and hid behind the cat's litter box.

          On my knees, I slowly moved items (containers of cat sand, plastic bags, cleaning products) to gain access to the bottom of the bathroom closet (while being cautious of a face-jumping rat who had already proven it was comfy with waist-level parkour).  Once I had the closet empty, and never found the rat nor heard it scurry past, I began searching for a small hole in the baseboard.  No holes.  No rat.

          Time for reinforcements.  I invited in the cats, re-closed the door, and re-tucked a towel tightly under it.  They slowly searched with their noses.  The cat with seniority, Agatha-called-Aggie-or-Agz, now in possession of 19 years of experience told me, after a few short minutes, that the rat was in the one inch gap between the under-sink cabinet and wall. 

          After I confirmed her observation with a flashlight, I left them to perform guard duty (towel tucked under door from the exterior) while I planned and began searching for extrication equipment. 

          My definition of success was:
  • All four participants part-ways physically uninjured (with no rabies shots needed).
  • No blood or gore or loose rat components stuck in the one inch wide (2.5cm) by three-foot deep (90cm) dust-filled cranny (which would necessitate hours of sink-cabinet and plumbing de-construction/disconnection to clean).
  • No rat reinforcements arrive.  Was this even a thing?  Did I really need to consider another crawling out of the sewer?  Wasn't this a one-in-a-million fluke?  This is tiny-town-Vermont where the wildlife is prevalent everywhere outside, not attempting to gain entry to the land of domesticated rodent predators through the drainpipes.
  • No Tom and Jerry episode unfolds in the house or bathroom.

          I removed the guard cats, replaced the towel, added a second towel, and then tightly plugged the toilet with a large scrub pad.  Thenwith a three-foot long piece of wood moulding [¾ inch (2cm) by ½ inch (1.25cm)] in one gloved hand and a plastic bag in the otherI approached the flashlit space and slowly nudged the rat's butt with the stick.

         It turned and began to climb the stick toward my hand as I tipped the far end down to slow it's climb while simultaneously raising my hand toward the upper lip of the cabinet top (which acted as a roof for the cranny).  Tightly squeezed twixt (now horizontal) stick and underside of cabinet top, it cautiously smelled my gloves and then carefully squoze (squeezed?) itself into my hand.  I dropped it into the plastic bag and took it outside where I dumped it in the snow.  It probably has already found it's way back into my garage or my neighbors walls.

          In conclusion, I want to explain why I do not use poison or traps (and never have):

  • Rodents who eat poison could be consumed by a domestic cat (no matter how careful I am).
  • Trapped house mice (no matter if killed or re-located) will soon be replaced by their field mice cousins.  It currently is 7℉ (-14℃) and the forecast predicts it to not get above -1℉ (-18℃) next week and could be as low as -10℉ (-23℃) at night.
  • I routinely put out nuts, grains, and seeds for birds, squirrels, chipmunks, rabbits, skunks, opossums and raccoons (as well as for any other local fauna, like the rare bear, deer, bobcat, and fox) who might or has already come into my yard.  Only a massive hypocrite would poison the less cute (but smarter) animals who choose to spend time in the walls of this old house to avoid the winter.