2012 is the year that the internet became a political force. What took so long? Well, the majority of us have surely been distracted by LOLcats and pr0nz.

Full disclosure: I work on issues at the intersection of technology, copyright and policy. In recent months, I’ve been able to observe firsthand the impact of internet-powered social movements. To wit: the unprecedented outrage around the Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA) and PROTECT-IP (PIPA) stopped either bill from becoming law — something many in Congress assumed was a fait accompli.

Then there’s the immense pressure brought on Susan G. Komen for the Cure after the organization pulled funding to Planned Parenthood. The swift disapproval — again, largely web-driven — was so intense that Komen’s VP is now stepping down.

The “bitroots” blowback is hardly limited to the US. Public demonstrations are currently taking place in the EU over ACTA, an international intellectual property agreement that some think goes too far. Protests have spilled into the streets, with more than 20,000 people participating in Poland alone. But the real engine of dissent is online.

Powerful as this new form of protest is, it’s hardly perfect. Oversimplifications are common, which is to be expected when complex policy matters are condensed into viral action items. Still, there is one clear takeaway: the world’s netizens will no longer lay back while decisions are made that impact their lives, online and otherwise.

From my experience, I can say that the anti-SOPA/PIPA movement was broad and remarkably diffuse. Internet users are now stakeholders, and they have countless ways to share information and amplify their voices. And, although it would be incorrect to call them a monolithic group, they are perfectly capable of representing their own self-interests when push comes to shove.

It’s unfair to characterize the SOPA/PIPA skirmish as one between Hollywood and Silicon Valley (read: Google). While some major tech companies were certainly involved, most of the push happened at the netroots level. I’d say it went down something like this:

1. Tumblr saw the liabilities they’d face under this overly-broad legislation and independently decided to black out their pages in protest. This woke a lot of folks up right quick.
2. The Reddit community started paying attention, and more people became very well-informed on the issue (and got pretty pissed off).
3. Wikipedia joined the loosely-organized “blackout,” and in the process inspired millions more people to call their representatives. (I think Google put a widget next to the search field on their home page, but they didn’t go dark.)
4. Some of us goobers in Washington — completely outnumbered by the well-heeled entertainment industry goons — pointed out that a lot of constituents (including tens of thousands of copyright holders) weren’t comfortable with this legislation as drafted.

The true action came from internet users who found themselves in a position to push back against a fairly draconian set of proposals. The technology itself amplified their message to the extent that a bill that had already passed out of full committee in the US Senate was put on ice, and the House companion never even made it past markup. You can believe me when I tell you that this is a new dynamic in Washington. I’m not sure anyone has fully wrapped their heads around what it means.

So, are these movements merely lighting in a bottle, or the foundations of a new and lasting form of advocacy? Can these spontaneous yet incredibly potent movements be transitioned from something reactive to something proactive? We may have to wait a while to find out. For now, if I was the MPAA or the RIAA, I might consider internalizing the lesson, instead of blithely dismissing the movement as ill-informed, or worse, driven by tech companies.

What do you bet they won’t?

Gary Lachman

We at The Contrarian are huge fans of Gary, as are many of our readers. Which is why we’re so delighted that he took time from his ridiculously busy schedule to answer a few questions about his new book and its perennially enigmatic subject.

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The Contrarian: There’s not a shortage of books about Carl Jung, with each subsequent entry purporting to be the definitive biography. What about your book stands out in this crowded field?

Gary Lachman: Rather than avoid talking about Jung’s “mystical” or “occult” inclinations, as some books on him do, or use them as a stick to beat him with, or applaud them uncritically, or explain them away, I take them seriously, and try to place Jung in the context of other “mystical” teachers, like Rudolf Steiner and Gurdjieff. I also ask why Jung seemed to have had a profound ambivalence about them, why publicly he insisted repeatedly that he was a scientist and not a mystic, yet among his close circle presented a different attitude.

TC: Individuation is Jung’s term for an alchemical-style process in which the components of one’s “spirit” and psyche are melded in a more holistic comprehension of self. How much of a believer are you in this transformation?

GL: If you’re asking if I believe in self-transformation, the answer is yes. I think you can understand individuation as broadly alchemical, in the sense that it involves bringing together opposites and creating something new out of the encounter. I don’t think you need to use alchemical language or concepts in order to do this, though. Individuation is about “becoming who you are” — it’s the same as Abraham Maslow‘s notion of self-actualization. It means becoming “you” and not merely a copy of the people around you.

TC: Jung is also known for his theory of the collective unconsciousness, or “world psyche,” in which the contents of our individual minds correlate at a deeper level through communal archetypes. Is there a dissonance between the idea of a shared spirit-map and the subjective experience of individuation, in which transformation is different for different people? Did you find any evidence in your studies of Jung attempting to reconcile these potentially contrasting ideas?

GL: I don’t see them as conflicting. It is precisely the collective unconscious that one individuates from, as it were. You individuate by becoming aware of the influence of the collective unconscious, the deeper forces at work in the psyche. By becoming aware of them and incorporating them consciously, one becomes an individual.You are not then pushed around by them without a clue, as most of us are most of the time.

TC: Jung seems to have spent a great deal of energy trying to dodge the mystic tag he was so often flagged with. How do you think he’d have dealt with the Aquarian-age co-opting of his concepts? If he were around today, would he be Grand Poo-Bah of Burning Man or an embittered shut-in?

GL: I think Jung would have been pleased that his ideas have become so fundamental to modern spirituality, but he would have shaken his head at raves and such. Individuation is hard work and it means confronting yourself, society, and the cosmos on your own. He enjoyed a good party but like anything of value, individuating is something one does on one’s own. I’m sure Burning Man and so on are great fun, but I don’t know how useful mass events are in “becoming who you are.” Jung, remember, spent a great deal of time in solitude in his famous tower at Bollingen.

TC: To me, Jung is the preeminent cartographer of the human mind. In fact, I’m always puzzled that he has so many critics who are quick to dismiss his work while swooning for far nuttier stuff. Why do you think he’s had such difficulty being accepted by either the scientific or spiritual mainstream?

GL: I don’t know that he hasn’t been accepted by the “spiritual mainstream,” whoever that means. He opposed the reductionist, materialist “scientistic” view, so it’s no surprise many scientists consider him a flake. I think Jung is a rare character, someone who applied scientific rigour to spiritual concerns. Sadly many “spiritual” people are disinclined to think, so they may adopt Jungian ideas like synchronicity without really thinking about them, or about anything else for that matter.

TC: Leading neuroscientists have embraced the idea of brain plasticity as a means of dealing with the “reformatting” of troublesome mental “programs,” i.e., neuroses. Plasticity is not a new concept; Buddhists have for centuries advocated for practices that allow thought to be neutrally observed and new mental habits established. In light of meditation, mindfulness and cognitive behavioral therapy, are Jung’s self-initiated breakdowns perhaps unnecessarily messy?

GL: Jung didn’t offer his “method” as one appropriate for everyone, and he often said that most neuroses were probably better treated by other means, even Freudian ones. But if you want to discover your unconscious and have some idea what’s going on in it and how you can develop a vital, creative, and surprising relation to it, he believed you needed to meet it face to face, as it were. He certainly wouldn’t have wanted active imagination to be seen as a “technique.” Becoming who you are isn’t something you can do when necessary. You either become who you are or you don’t.

TC: Speaking of self-initiation, Jung was also big on highly personal information, whether it be drawings, sculptures, mandalas or secret linguistics. Does sharing the semantic code with others somehow lessen its alchemical potency?

GL: I think some symbols discovered in dreams etc can have a collective meaning, but many are metaphors about your own life and are surprisingly specific, as if the intelligence responsible for them is speaking directly to ‘you’. At least in my own case I have always been stunned by the aptness of imagery in dreams and how they use jokes, plays on words, visual gags, to make a point. I am repeatedly reminded that what I call “my unconscious” is an independent, living intelligence that more times than not knows more than I do. Jung also believed it was important to have a ‘secret’, something of deep significance that you kept to yourself. This creates a kind of inner pressure that fuels individuation. It’s something he shares with most esoteric teaching. We all know the devaluing effect of telling a particularly important dream to someone else, how it often loses its “charge.” Pearls before swine, and all that.

TC: What do you think of the Red Book? I have it, but feel like I need to take a vacation in order to properly experience its contents.

GL: I think it is a remarkable record of one remarkable person’s encounter with a formidably remarkable living intelligence that just happened to have resided in his head.

TC: When it comes to transformations, you’re certainly no slouch. Going from punk rock star to distinguished esoteric historian is hardly a typical career arc. Could you offer a word of advice or encouragement to others on a less-than conventional path?

GL: Well, in the first case I never was a “star.” I made a not inconsiderable contribution to pop music, but was never a celebrity. But my basic advice is to listen to your “self” and do your best to become who you are. Don’t be afraid of taking risks or of disappointing other people, especially your friends. My interest in music and performing is part of the same impulse that later led me to write. It’s a need for self-expression combined with an appetite for ideas. I was always interested in the kind of thing I write about now, but I needed to mature in order to do it. I have nothing against pop music, but there’s only so much you can say in a song. Now I have 80,000 – 100,000 words. You may not be able to dance to it, but it is very satisfying to collect all your thoughts on, say, Jung and organize them into a book that, with any luck, others will get something out of.

I’ve got some awesome news on that front.

The CDs have been assembled by Mars Pyramid and are on the way to Contrarian HQ. The inimitable Susan Norton has turned in the comic that comes with the purchase of the physical copy of the album. The liner notes have been written and the lyrics pieced together. All that’s left are the videos (and probably a podcast where I explain what a tremendous pain in the ass it is to do this stuff, but also why it’s fun and rewarding). Look for an official rollout within the next couple of weeks.

But it’s not all about me, me, me. I’ve decided, after six or so solo releases (at least two of which have been successful by modest standards), to put out some stuff by other artists.

Lux Eterna is the name of the label, and the next release will be from classically-trained experimental-Americana guitarist Mark G. Cooley, who has decided to go electric on his new recording. (Go ahead, scream “Judas!” — it always feels good.) So what does this as-yet-unnamed album sound like? Picture Discipline-era King Crimson as played by technicolor gnomes from another dimension and you’re almost there. There’s lots of cool shimmers and shudders for all you noise addicts, too. In other words, something for everyone.

Next, I hope to collaborate on a pop song cycle with Arthur Adams. I’ve long wanted to compose an album in tribute to weirdo rocket scientist Jack Whiteseide Parsons in which bygone California — in all of its bootstrapping, schizophrenic glory — serves as a musical lodestone. Last time I checked with Arthur, he was down. All the way down, even.

After (or perhaps before) that, I hope to release something from The Ten Thousand Things, whom readers will know as our resident Library Scientist, Wes Covey.

By the way, my short story “The Cove,” which was featured as a digital extra for my last record, Eldritch Musicks, is published in the latest edition of Fantastic Horror #16. You can read it online, even.

As you were.

Here is a heartwarming photo project, made possible by the blog era. Everyone make art!

Musicians comment about the new heath care bill. I found Franz Nicolay‘s comments to be very relevant to my own life as a freelance artist. Lord help us.

Side note: I just wanted to mention that this video is extremely gay. And not in the “I’m-going-to-give-you-a-wedgie-you-can-use-for-earmuffs” kind of way, but a “this-video-has-a-penis-and-may-have-interest-in-touching-your-video’s-penis” kind of way. Particularly if your video happens to be wearing assless chaps. I mean super gay. Even for George Michael. It’s awesome.

W.A.G.E., meanwhile, offers information and support for artists who are tired (and hungry) of not getting paid to make the world more interesting. Musicians should pay attention to this, because fine art usually is a little ahead of the curve conceptually — in this case, in the practice of fucking over the creative element.

Working Class Magazine is a great little upstart out of the Lower East Side. I find it very personable and sophisticated at the same time. Keep up the good work, guys.

Meanwhile in Brooklyn, Ry Pepper lends her circumspect eye to arts and crafts reporting in her blog, Arts and Dafts. It’s anecdotal, practical, and warm-hearted. Very nice indeed.

If you want to remember how basic is the need for humans to participate in acts of beauty, you may want to refer to this report from the UK’s Daily Mail to witness what may be the oldest living artistic genre known to man. It will take your breath away, I imagine.

I know that this here love letter sure did it for me. My Beloved, you are the apogee of enchantment.

…But this guy ain’t no chopped liver.

Much Love, y’all.

I just received news that Jeffrey Lyons passed away. To those of us who cut our audiophile teeth in the Burlington area, or dug deeper into the stacks of wax as time went on, Jeff was a most gracious host to our vinyl nerdities.

From 1998 to 2005 he owned Vinyl Destination, Vermont’s largest record store that drew music lovers not just for its unusual variety of recordings but for the great conversation and camaraderie Jeff generously provided. He was a friend to all he met, accepting everyone for who they were and using his encyclopedic mind to connect with them in some special way. He will be missed terribly.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank the universe for sharing Jeff with us. Among the Great Record Beards, he was one of the greatest, and I feel so grateful to have witnessed his intelligence, enthusiasm and noble spirit. Well done, Jeff.

Hello lovelies!

While you may be used to seeing kids around Halloween raising funds for UNICEF, this year for Valentine’s Day, please consider sending your loved ones the fruits of my picture-making labors to support needy children around the world. UNICEF is an organization which has helped countless women and children stricken by poverty, famine, and disaster, and in the wake of the horrific earthquakes in Haiti, they need our help more than ever.

I have created a PDF book called “Epistle: Love Letters to the Visual Environment.” It is a collection of eight pages from my collage book, all along the themes of romance, sweetness, delight, and whole-heartedness. Volume One is called “Doo-Wop,” and is appropriate for anyone who likes jukeboxes.

A PayPal donation can be made here:

http://nortonanalog.blogspot.com/2010/02/valentines-day-fundraiser-for-unicef.html

Please donate $5 or more, and your loved one will receive a link to download this PDF book in their inbox on Valentine’s Day, knowing that your affection for them has been forwarded to children in need. 80% of all proceeds will go directly to UNICEF.

Send me a request at nortonanalog@gmail.com. Include your e-mail address, the recipient’s e-mail address, and, if you wish, a personal greeting of up to 100 characters (leave blank if you wish to remain a secret admirer!).

For more information about UNICEF, visit the link below:

http://www.unicef.org/

This morning I awoke to a head full of thoughts — not an unfamiliar phenomenon, I must say. During coffee, something drew me to an online collection of interview snippets about/with Syd Barrett — the late psych-pop acid casualty and leader of the original Pink Floyd. Actually, I know exactly how I got there — I caught a random blog comment concerning Floyd’s onetime manager Peter Jenner, a fellow I happen to know (somewhat) personally and whom I like an awful lot. Summary: there was of fascinating stuff on this page, laid out in forensic detail. Check it out if you have the interest.

After that, I decided to vacuum the house, which for some reason always lubricates my synapses. The soundtrack to this chore was, of course, Piper at the Gates of Dawn. I started thinking about influences, aesthetics and all sorts of other things. I realized that most artists never fully transcend their influences, but the best of us steal flame from our forebears’ fire — Prometheus style — which in turn illuminates our own creative path. This is a natural tradition, as old as art itself, though it does have a tendency to muddy the business side of things from time to time.

Personally, I have begun to retreat from the au courant, the now, the hip, in order to focus more fully on my own craft. And that’s exactly what it is: a craft. Somewhere between a practical trade and extrasensory perception. Some equate it with spirituality, others magic, others don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. My point is this: there’s a time to soak up influences and check your vocabulary against the common tongue, and there’s a time to put aside distractions and simply go about your business. And that’s where I’m currently at.

On the aesthetic side, I’m comfortable in the knowledge that whatever art I produce will naturally be informed by my influences and previous experimentation. Perhaps I actually have learned some lessons — like, it might seem like a cool idea to put Beach Boys harmonies on a Swans-type cut, but it really doesn’t come out all that that well! Of course, I reserve the right to be contrarian. Meaning that, that even when popular taste matches my own inclinations I could — out of temperament or pique — reject an approach that might otherwise suit me. For example, I refuse to chase the current neo-shoegaze/indie-psych movement around hoping to catch a wink. Firstly, I’m too old for that, and the whippersnappers would have me terribly out of breath. Secondly, I think that a lot of today’s expression lacks clarity of vision. Where is your gestalt? What about your work screams out to be heard? So much of the new psych-gaze stuff sounds as shiftless and non-committal as the generation that produced it. Give me danger, give me drama, give me noise, give me melody, give me sensuality. Look, I’m as moon-addled as the next guy, with a profound love of being enveloped in puffy wafts of sound. But The Goddess requires a Consort, and he better be ready to fucking throw down.

Even approaching midlife, I’m game.

Back to influences (and Syd) for a second. It’s clear to me — and anyone with ears — that Robyn Hitchcock is hugely influenced by Barrett. But Robyn’s done the gentlemanly thing and taken part of Syd inside himself, consumed him, if you will. This is the noble tradition that I spoke of earlier. I swallowed Jimmy Page, for example. (And he tasted like velvet dragons!)

Who did you have for breakfast?

As I get older, it becomes more important for me to create. Not out of vanity or the sense that I’ve got to “leave something behind,” but rather because life is indeed short and I abhor waste. Talent should be refined, tested, refined, tested, refined, tested until you run out of breath. If you’re a creator, anyway. If you’re an accountant (and there’s nothing wrong with that), your path and purpose is different. As it should be.

The craft continues to inform, particularly as one gets bolder about embodying it in all parts of one’s life. I am no longer intimidated by the “marketplace.” What marketplace? I engage where appropriate. I consider my (admittedly limited) audience. I challenge myself to find new ways for my ideas to be formulated and disseminated. I trust my instincts, yet work hard at perfecting my ideas. And I hopefully get better.

Perhaps you take a similar approach. If so, I raise my glass of mid-morning Scotch.

Possibly some of you, like myself, have been deeply entrenched in the winter doldrums. January, the nebulous season after the heady trip of Christmas lights, holiday parties, and New Year’s drunken splendor/debauchery, can drop a soul’s morale right on it’s ass when Old Man Winter’s blustering is no longer buffered by December’s pagan hoot-n-nanny.

As of late, I have found the weather dreary, the bank account drained, and my exuberance stemmed. Luckily, I am in a fine position to self-medicate with colored pencils and a large paper bag. Last week I began to circumvent my insomnia and restlessness by creating pictures of the cutest, cheeriest possible creatures (and a couple cranky ones) I could imagine. The following are a sample, and I hope that they make you smile like they did for me. If you like those, check out another fleet at NortonAnalog.

Feel the Love!