The Contrarian

Brain Dharma.

Image: Alex Grey

David Brooks has a very interesting Op-Ed in today's New York Times, called "The Neural Buddhists." The piece posits a near future where advances in neuroscience lead to a new understanding of the transcendental experience. This means a major challenge to Judeo-Christian religious hegemony.

Instead of science reaffirming a trend towards materialism, it will present a broader view of mental processes and their mystical/ethical implications."The cognitive revolution is not going to end up undermining faith in God, it’s going end up challenging faith in the Bible," Brooks writes.

Scientists have more respect for elevated spiritual states. . . the mind seems to have the ability to transcend itself and merge with a larger presence that feels more real.

This new wave of research will not seep into the public realm in the form of militant atheism. Instead it will lead to what you might call neural Buddhism.

First, the self is not a fixed entity but a dynamic process of relationships. Second, underneath the patina of different religions, people around the world have common moral intuitions. Third, people are equipped to experience the sacred, to have moments of elevated experience when they transcend boundaries and overflow with love. Fourth, God can best be conceived as the nature one experiences at those moments, the unknowable total of all there is. . .

. . .the real challenge is going to come from people who feel the existence of the sacred, but who think that particular religions are just cultural artifacts built on top of universal human traits. It’s going to come from scientists whose beliefs overlap a bit with Buddhism.

I say right on. Read the full piece here.

La Dolce Vita and Soak Me in Cognac. . . By Jebson Interlandi

For the past twelve days, I’ve been sauntering through the healthy climes of Italy. When the Prez first gave word of my “assignment,” I booked a flight to Palermo and eagerly waited my expense check. This was his faxed memo to yours truly:

“Foreign Correspondent Interlandi: The Contrarian will provide supplies and means for your immediate travel to Cefalu, Sicily, in order for you to take photographs of Aleister Crowley’s Abbey of Thelema. Western Union has your money."

It could’ve been my Great Shark Hunt, but that cheap bastard of a Prez only wired me 15 bucks with a pathetic note: “Hey Jeb, be sure to learn about Cefalu and have some 'Za on me." Luckily, I had recently won a fair amount of cash in a game of chance with some street urchins in Amsterdam. Let that be a lesson to those scamps — never bet against a blue-eyed Italian on a hasheesh bender.

My time in Cefalu was flush with hiking, sun, gelato, vin della casa and seafood. On the last day I finally managed to find Crowley’s old residence, which proved to be a difficult search as there are no signs advertising its whereabouts. Situated beside the soccer stadium, the decrepit compound of that charismatic and influential magus still stands, enshrouded in palm tree-overgrowth.

The house has surely seen better days — its roof is crumbling away and the rooms are littered with rubble. In fact, there’s no reason at all to visit the Abbey, other than to see Crowley’s now-faded artwork on the sanctum's innermost walls.

I experienced a warm, tingling sensation, however, as I stood on the floor where Crowley once performed his unique rituals. Hashish, goats, yoga, sodomy, cocaine, Egyptian incantations, 69ing. . . the energy still lingers. No, not really. Any sensations come solely from the historical imagination. But all in all, it was pretty cool:

The Wickedest Bungalow in the World.

Rec Room Window of the Damned.

DirectTV Antenna picks up "Cooking with the Scarlet Lady (a.k.a. Rachael Ray.)"

Satan's housekeeper is clearly on vacation.

The smiley cock-boobs demon makes you feel right at home.

Translation: Perdurabo gives good head.

Better soak me in Michelob Ultra instead — I'm counting carbs.

A similar design can be found in the Romney family room.

If you want to know how it all really went down during those dark nights at Thelema, watch this clip. Yes, that is Ron Jeremy as the priest.

After Sicily I took a Ferry to Naples. I’m not a fan of that burg, and I don’t expect I’ll ever go back.

Rome is, other than Paris, my favorite city for overall aesthetics. Any metropolis that's laden with statues and fountains (especially fountains) naturally wins my endorsement.

My favorite region in all of Italy is Cinque Terre. On the northern coast of the Mediterranean, these 5 coastal villages are all connected by an 8 mile hiking trail with bedazzling views of the verdant surroundings. The ambrosial air is perfumed with a sweet, floral fragrance. I also read a lot of Maupassant and Gautier on this trip.

Last stop was Florence, which is another open-air museum. I thank The Contrarian for granting me a period of renewal and professional leisure.

For anyone interested in Aleister Crowley, you might like to know there’s a new book on the way entitled, Aleister Crowley and the Temptation of Politics by Marco Pasi (my current professor). The English translation should hit the stores in a month or two.

Buddhism vs. Transhumanism.

After yesterday's long-ass post about the Dalai Lama, I figured we might as well stay on the Buddhist tip.

Found an interesting article at thinkBuddha.org about Transhumanism — another abiding interest of mine.

The blogger at thinkBuddha was forthright in admitting his relative ignorance of Transhumanism; the reason he was writing about it at all was because of a seemingly unfavorable New Scientist article about cognitive scientist and Transhumanist Marvin Minski.

As a practicing Buddhist with a layman's interest in technological development and its impact on culture and civilization, I read the post with great interest.

According to current definitions, Transhumanism is an "intellectual and cultural movement supporting the use of new sciences and technologies to enhance human mental and physical abilities and aptitudes, and ameliorate what it regards as undesirable and unnecessary aspects of the human condition, such as stupidity, suffering, disease, aging and involuntary death."

A lot of that seems at odds with the basic tenets of Buddhism, which regards the sloppy bad crap of life as the fertile manure from which the lotus of enlightenment sprouts. Of course, one could counter that Buddhism itself is a self-improvement trip. But that's somewhat off the mark. Buddhism seeks to improve conditions not through transcendence, but rather acceptance. This acceptance is hardly an ignorant, "oh well" approach to things, however. There's an almost scientific approach to the examination of consciousness, until the neurosis brought on by attachment to ego is exposed under the all-encompassing light of realization.

I'm also interested in Transhumanism, but recognize the enormous ethical implications human enhancement will bring about. We never really reconciled the last century's misguided stabs at eugenics, and I dare say that DNA tweaking and bio/nanotech "add-ons" will create a political shitstorm the likes of which humanity has never seen.

And this technology isn't in some far-off sci-fi future, either. Given technological measures such as Moore's Law, some observers suggest we're at the cusp of a Singularity. But that's another story. Kind of.

I haven't yet reconciled my personal Buddhist practice with possible technological "improvements" to my biological self. Like the Christian philosopher Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, I do believe that the universe (or God) seeks to know itself, and technological progress is a function of evolution. Hell, everything can be expressed by data.

Of course, it's probable that everything can also be expressed by feeling and karmic connectivity. You know, like, rocks having souls an' shit.

Are they both sides of the same coin? Is the universe an infinitely macro and micro orderly chaos machine? Are the mandalas of Buddhism actually spiritual representations of fractal expression?

Are you there, George Dvorsky? It's me, Casey.

Mastering Pitfalls.

. . .Or so says the I Ching. . .

There will be great good fortune, and all action taken will be in every way advantageous.

The situation is evolving slowly, and Yin is gaining ground.

Still, there's plenty to do on the road to Damascus.

Enough with the metaphysical gobbledegook. I gotta go catch my Metro to Destiny.

In the meantime, you can weigh in on another Transistor Blast query — which is the best post-Beatles solo effort? Hint: it ain't Give My Regards to Broadstreet.

We'll catch up later.

VMAs, Freemasonry — What More Could You Want On A Monday Afternoon?

I'm still reeling from the colossal shitstorm that was this year's MTV VMAs. At least no one made me blog about it. All the pretty lights and booze in Vegas couldn't save this overblown (and dull!) awards show. Sarah Silverman should really know better. And I should have known not to bother watching.

Oh, but those Freemasons!

Over the weekend, Brooke and I paid a visit to the penultimate parlor of brotherhood, the George Washington Masonic Memorial in Alexandria, Virginia. The building is quite majestic from the outside, but the interior is like a glorified Elk's Lodge filled with pseudo-mystical, quasi-biblical baubles.

I still took tons of pictures, once I was certain it was kosher. Hell, they allowed a film shoot for National Treasure II: Book of Secrets. (Wasn't that the subhead for Blair Witch II? I bet this flick is every bit as good).

For those of you who prefer to hold tight to your Dan Brown fantasies about shadowy conspiracies and metaphorical Christ-blood, consider this your Secret Society Spoiler Alert.

Pics and deliciously clever captions below the fold.

Identity.

I spent part of the summer re-reading a few Philip K. Dick novellas; specifically the ones in the new Library of America edition. Shaky prose aside, Dick was a genius at examining the seemingly paper-thin constructs that comprise individual (and group) identity.

Of course, he did have a head full of amphetamines and a predisposition to mental illness.

But what if perceiving one's lack of fixed selfhood didn't result in madness? Is such awareness even worth pursuing? Most people are loathe to even approach the idea, especially in this culture, where ownership and entitlement are the essence of self-definition.

My friend Jebson, who is currently in Amsterdam pursuing a graduate degree in Hermetics and Western Esotericism (or is he gobbling fresh mushrooms and taking baths in hash oil?), recently wrote me with the advisement that even art needn't be proprietary:

In Western literature and art, there is a salient emphasis placed on the creator and not the created... Eastern art tends to be devoid of author, or painter or musician. I'm not saying I prefer it that way, but in our culture I think the artist is far too hard on himself for not accomplishing certain financial and/or commercial goals.

That made me think back to a profile I did on sound artist Greg Davis, who, in the course of our chat, stressed that he always tries to "let go" of a piece of music once he's finished with it. Playing the devil's advocate, I suggested that art is necessarily egotistical, being the imposition of one's aesthetic will on reality. He countered that he thinks of it more as "putting a frame around something" — an attitude not dissimilar from John Cage, a lifetime Zen acolyte and one of Davis' chief inspirations.

Hitting the cushion (with my ass, not my fist) every day has served to re-remind me of these points, to the degree that I can't believe I ever forgot them in the first place. Ego is one tricky bitch.

In any case, it's interesting to see things from the perspective of relative freedom. Struggles and hardships continue to occur, but with less fixation, they're less enduring. Ideas about oneself are more or less like cloud formations in a semi-clear sky. Kind of whoopty-fuck, you know? Selfhood becomes like a wardrobe. This one might be all you can currently afford, but it fits well enough. Tomorrow, maybe you'll even wear a vest — who knows?

Still, there are downsides to fluid identity. Those unwilling or incapable of observing their states of being may find themselves the victims of dangerous delusions. A recent post on Undead Molly references an article in the latest Wired about an internet relationship involving multiple levels of identity fraud. The spookiest thing about the story is the degree to which the principals fooled themselves. So be sure to stay mindful when you're self-swapping, k?

Nothing may be true and everything indeed permitted, but that doesn't mean it can't be plain nasty business.

Stay tuned for your regular programming...

This is the End...

Last Sunday's New York Times Magazine featured an article on the Mayan calendar as it relates to current metaphysical conjecture.

In case you missed it: "The Final Days."

Author Benjamin Anastas did a fair job of parsing the current thinking on 2012 without falling prey to generalizations. Instead, the piece displays a rational skepticism rare in mass media coverage of fringe culture.

Anastas either talks to or references most of the heavy hitters in this scene: Daniel Pinchbeck, José Arguelles, Carl Johan Calleman, John Major Jenkins and, of course, the late Terrence McKenna.

The overriding opinion of these experts is that the End of History will be dramatic yet spiritually liberating. This attitude is no doubt inherited from the New Age belief in consciousness transformation — a non-dogmatic, but no less rigid view of our cosmic destiny leftover from the Aquarian 1960s. But to dismiss today's seekers as starry-eyed hippies does them a great disservice. With the exception of Pinchbeck, who revels in his position as countercultural psychopomp, most of the individuals mentioned in the Times piece apply academic-grade analysis to the subject. And they know their Mayan mythology.

Although the article was well-written, it was but a summarization. I'd like to see a longer piece putting today's apocalyptic assumptions in a wider historical context. Somebody pitch the New Yorker — I'm tired of environmental cage-rattling and artist profiles.

History has shown that End Times come and go. What makes this one different is the belief in a positive outcome. Instead of harsh judgments and eternal damnation, this reckoning will supposedly provide a shit in cosmological perspective, as the shackles of space-time are forever loosed. Ride the snake!!!

Certainly not all the 2012 proponents are kooks. So why has mainstream media been slow to recognize the phenomenon? Each holiday season, Time magazine devotes space to the archaeological underpinnings of Christianity, a religion whose Final Judgment is no less bizarre.

Perhaps the press and academia are frightened of discussing New Age philosophy, lest the movement be legitimized. But you can't ignore a cultural phenomenon based on professional bias. The spiritual seeking of the '60s spawned an industry of opportunism, but it also changed how we perceive our place in the cosmos. Kudos to the Times for at least scratching the surface of what will no doubt become a major movement, bullshit or otherwise.

End Transmission.