“Primordial Bounds”

“Primordial Bounds”

Animating forces danced in the abyss
From cosmic clouds did Helios arise
Upon the sands of Gaia shining bright
Warming seas to hold her in embrace
Effervescent stirrings in the depths below
From whence primordial bounds emerged
Tendril seeds could then begin to grow
Entropic channels out of chaos born
Spreading far and wide, were favored so
The spark of life ignited, on it goes
Destined imperfections bringing forth
Beauty and a mass of creatures flow

Senses born, interpretations formed
Rosetta stone with energetic tone
Neuronal trees to carve the world of one
Integrated symphony, the source of all divinity
Then the eye began to gaze within
Branches twisted, turned, and formed the self
Archetypal images and dreams to undergo
Ego and unconsciousness, a battle for the soul
Psyches feeding culture with the food of all the gods
Imagination, future selves, to suffer and rejoice
Cogitation flowing, individuation growing
‘Til cybernetic unity subsumes the human story

“Colors of Meaning”

Here’s a poem I wrote while thinking about how short life is, the human condition, and the beauty and contingency therein.

“Colors of Meaning”

Never choosing our existence
Nor belonging absolutely
Death becomes the culmination
Nature’s own instantiation

Finding meaning in the color
Existential rainbow arching
Purpose driven dreaming clearly
Vision focused on the nearly

Senses mingle with the pneuma
Cogitation flowing freely
With hallucination blinding
Seek the shadow for the finding

Staring at the dismal pattern
Getting lost inside the labyrinth
Winding through the paths we’ve taken
Searching for a transformation

An ideal that you can fathom
Like a beacon, there to guide you
Climbing higher trying to reach it
Imperfections, they impede it

Staring at the stars above us
Infinite, though I am finite
Glimpses of the vast potential
Modes of being which are essential

Thanatos and eros driving
Auras manifest, surrounding
Interlocked angelic demons
Psyches morphing as the seasons

Drawn to beauty and fulfillment
Eudaimonia completes it
Darkness is the final chapter
Sleeping soundly ever after

“Whispering of the Gods”

Here’s a poem I wrote expressing some of my more recent views as a self-ascribed religious atheist.

“Whispering of the Gods”

Does God exist? Well, that depends
If God be but the transcendent
An ideal mode of dasein
Futures gained through inhibition
Sacrificing now for later
That which we aspire to be
Selves not yet realized, held up high
If so, then yes, God does exist

Ever since we ate from the tree
Gaining knowledge of right and wrong
A sense of self that suffers true
Knowing that others feel it too
Grief and joy for one and for all
What hurts me can hurt another
So now we act accordingly
Behold our sense, morality

Good and evil, forces that be
Aiding our goals or hind’ring them
Powers of awe, of life and death
An impetus until the end
Love and hate, powerful pathos
Possessed by what’s beyond oneself
The gods of old encompass minds
Fractured selves and multiple drives

And what is the soul exactly?
Phenomenological truth!
Identity transcending time
Continuity of the self
Personified as if divine
The powers of the conscious mind
And feeling that free will is mine
Internal struggles unified

Karma is as real as can be
The positive building bridges
The negative burning them down
A self fulfilling prophecy
Circles of friends who lend a hand
Because you were benevolent
Circles of foes who cut you off
Because you were malevolent

Many religions and their myths
Have accumulated wisdom
Far from perfect, yet impressive
Nevertheless, containing truths
We ought to respect what has worked
And yet overcome what has not
We mustn’t throw the baby out
Despite with impure waters bathed

Heaven and hell, they do exist
Within our minds and in our lives
Existential predicament
The life you lead is infinite
Imagining a better world
And striving just to make it so
Integrate the psyche’s shadow
To slay the dragons, out and in

“Silent Bridge”

Words are but a bridge between our minds
So let us not burn these bridges down
For they are the only means of knowing
Knowing what’s on the other side
If the bridge is ever lost, surprise awaits
For a seedling may turn into a jungle 
Or a flickering flame into a fiery blaze 
Behold the power of unspoken words

Words are but a bridge between our minds
So let us not burn these bridges down 
For they are the only means of gaining
Gaining new perspectives, a broader lens
The power to diagnose the masses
For an itch may turn into infection
Or an emotion into a reign of tyranny 
Behold the power of unspoken words

Words are but a bridge between our minds 
So let us not burn these bridges down 
For they are the only means of growing 
Growing stronger from the challenge
Words are not violence, so fear not! 
For a fear of words will only weaken us 
Or limit thought and human freedom 
Behold the power of unspoken words

Speak!  Silence!  Shut up and speak!
This contradiction pervades humanity
We’re “free” to profess popular opinion
Free to be deafened by the echo chamber
As honest critique is made to wear the muzzle
We’re free to conform to our social tribes
But so often not free to cross the bridge
The bridge between our minds

“Celestial Dream”

Eyes laid on the stars above, a cosmic web, celestial dream
Chalice of life and death I see, chaos and form, dualities be
I see the One, self-aware, consciousness within a stream
Entropy, masquerading there, to blackness from the beam
Fabric of space, broadening sea, declaring to all it’s feeling free

Imagination manifest, with cooling down, primordial stew
Was, is, the yet to be, amalgamate the temporal me
Transformation, condensation, forces know just what to do
Clouds of gas, the stars are born, matter’s bound with much ado
Animate Being, an intricate tree, diverse au naturel decree

Psyches springing up anew, it simulates, the thoughts of “I”
The sense of self, but how could it be? Because of the power, because of the qi
Magical ocean, twinkling tide, reflecting from below the sky
Creatures abound, predator prey, appreciate before we die
Limited life, though infinite being, an optimistic view is key

“The Bounds of Subjectivity”

The world as it really is
Unknowable, despite conviction
We hope for objectivity
And yet we see prediction

Perception is the mind’s best guess, to make some sense of all the mess
Expectations frame the lens, ontology, each one depends

Controlled hallucination
To see what we want to see
Perception is not a mirror
But the bounds of subjectivity

Our minds are but a model, sensations flowing, open throttle
A story written, a narrative, to which high credence we will give

Grounded on abstraction
Toward emotion reason shouts
Embodied filters blinding us
Wishful thinking wins the bout

Behold the power of intuition, as certainty comes to fruition
Housed in our unconscious mind, yet fallible we ought to find

Beliefs entangled with desire
Can I hold this view of mine?
Search for reasons to confirm
True or not, we all assign

Not all views have equal merit, unable to know, unless we share it
Reducing that complexity, except when over-vexed we’ll be

Worlds are shaped by what we want
In how we act and how we view
Rigid ways take hold of us
The old interprets all the new

Emotions are the reason’s master, ignoring this will bring disaster
Hume was right about the passions, finding reasons is our fashion

When evidence begins to mount
Against a highly prized belief
Minds can change, a last resort
From dissonance, we seek relief

Ignore the proof, for it can’t be! Or change your views for harmony
Highlight all coincidence, though it lacks significance

Must I believe what’s likely true?
Not if I can find a way!
A means to cover my own eyes
Truth be damned, emotions stray

Coincidence we seem to find, memories, tricks of the mind
‘Tis the frequency illusion, we’re falling prey to this delusion

The path of least resistance
Always tempting to the end
Sacrificing truth for self
How far the mind can bend

A marvel of our evolution, the ego fights its dissolution
Fallacies run far and wide, despite the logic by our side

Remember what you must
Your world is up to you
Conveniently forget the rest
And false becomes the true

Few will try to face the truth
Combat the bias, critique the “I”
Only the bravest make attempts
By far the most would rather die

By far the most would rather lie
To themselves, to everyone
Confirmation biases
From human nature, we try to run

You can run but you can’t hide!
Our biases remain
But evidence has verified
There’s knowledge we can gain

“Freedom is Uncertainty”

We are creatures of prediction
Yearning to master an Umwelt
And yet curiosity, like an addiction
Where fixed ways begin to melt
Driven by a fear of the unknown
Seeking novelty within our zone

From whence is freedom born?
Not knowing how the story ends
My own autonomy I have sworn
Sole authorship despite the trends
Thoughts appearing without cause
Predictability should give me pause

The grand illusion of control
When influence is out of sight
Freedom is what defines the soul
No cause relents, try as we might
This decision must be mine
Interconnected, but not divine

From whence is freedom born?
An unconscious realm of ought
Conflicting desires leave us torn
Within a web of neurons caught
Granted by atoms and the void
Causa sui has been destroyed

Choices forged from deep inside
What does the future hold?
Where does this power reside?
To think it’s me is far too bold
I’m free because I cannot see
My freedom lies in uncertainty

“The Art of the Social Mask”

Ideas are what bring us together
Ideas are what drive us apart
Which ones do I share? Which do I hide?
Navigating life is nothing short of an art

A choice between honesty and convenience
Why should I have to choose?
People afraid to speak their mind
For fear of what they might lose

Either you’re with us or against us
Friends turning against friends
Hiding some friends from others
Hoping to justify means with ends

Did he SAY such and such?
He must BE a this or a that!
Identity truncated, caricatured
Black! White! A racist! A prat!

I mustn’t be seen with you
Or they’ll think I’m a this or a that
Deeply invested in those friends
Putting principles to the test and falling flat

Did she use THAT word?
She must BE a you-know-what!
Mocking one’s human depth
Essentialism choosing what makes the cut

Many opinions left in the shadows
Censored by the expectations of friends
Can’t we be honest with one another?
Without sacrificing our making amends?

People here and there, everywhere
Playing the game we’re taught to play
So many living hollow, phony lives
The Machiavellian day-to-day

We search for recognition, reciprocity
Scratching one another’s backs
With the hopes of building true friendships
Sharing a common body of facts

We should aim for mutual respect
Respect for different points of view
Complete agreement stunts our growth
Prevents us from seeing something new

Challenging friendships and discourse
To see how we err and how we fault
To thine own self be true, indeed
Comprising a truly authentic gestalt

I wish we could all be honest and forthright
No longer ashamed of one friend or another
Free to share views that may seem taboo
Adding to our circle of sisters and brothers

“The Book”

Who am I? What am I worth?
Shall I consult the good book?
Grasping for likes, shares, and pokes
Torn asunder by algorithms
The new social realm is but a joke
Psyches disrupted, mental schisms

Why meet face-to-face
When I can live in abstraction?
Brave new worlds of Silicon Valley
Filled with scores of meaningless bullshit
Dopamine released as likes are tallied
Echo chambers robbing the human spirit

How many true friends lie in this realm?
‘Tis but a tiny fraction of that number
That number on display for all to see
Most couldn’t care less if I’m there or not
That number is but a social formality
As ones and zeroes mark the spot

Who am I? What am I worth?
Shall I consult the good book?
Brewing political and cultural troubles
Treating people as if a commodity
Trapped in its ideological bubbles
The digitization of our humanity

Blathering ’bout Some Birds in a Box

bird box picI recently watched Netflix’s Bird Box (directed by Susanne Bier, based on the novel by Josh Malerman), and although I wasn’t overly impressed with this film, I thought there were some interesting conceptual threads lying under the surface.  The story involves the age-old dichotomous narrative of good versus evil, where “the good” must use their strength and wit to persevere and triumph in this fight against evil and against those that perpetuate or propagate it.  In this case, we see humanity at large being attacked by an evil force taking the form of their worst fears, where blindfolding oneself or keeping one’s eyes closed to this mysterious entity is the only means of surviving its presence.  As an interesting caveat, only those that are deemed “insane” are immune to this danger, where they alone can face these entities with no apparent harm coming to them.  To add to the fear and chaos of this situation, these madmen are also intent on forcing everyone else to see what they perceive to be an awe-inspiring force (as if it were a god), and they perform this (often violent) coercion regardless of the fact that forcing others to see what they see is effectively an act of murder.

There’s a number of metaphoric and allegorical threads one could extract from this story-line, including interpreting the entity as some kind of god (Yahweh?), and the blindfolding of the masses as the inability to face this God, whether in the biblical sense where a face-to-face encounter results in death (e.g. Exodus 33:20), or in the figurative/spiritual sense of modern humanity having turned away from God (for better or worse).  Furthermore, this entity taking on the form of one’s biggest fears resonates with the biblical conception of the unequivocal “fear of God”.  If we were to frame the story around such an allegory, then the dystopic chaos that ensues from this “turning away”, and the difficulties that arise, may be entirely expected from a religious perspective.  Even though the atheistic skepticism precipitating from modernity and the Enlightenment has no doubt brought us a number of epistemic, political, and societal benefits, it’s also created its own share of problems that are yet to be resolved.

Religion and belief in a God or gods often fills a void in people’s lives because of the many hardships concomitant with the human condition, and so even if there’s a conscious decision to reject this emotional or spiritual crutch, there’s an unavoidable trade-off that can make life much more psychologically challenging, as exemplified by the burdensome journey undertaken by Malorie and her children.  On the other hand, those that intentionally or inadvertently come face-to-face with this God or God concept may be hypnotically drawn in by it, and thereby end up committing a form of intellectual suicide in the process.

In the interest of considering a radically different interpretation of this story, what if “the entity” is actually a representation of the intellectual content or philosophical paradigms that have arisen in our modern age?  Modernity has brought with it various instantiations of existentialism, postmodernism, skepticism, atheism, and along with it a transvaluation of our morals and of the meaning and purpose that we ascribe to our own lives.  It is no doubt unsettling (if not outright frightening) to face and contemplate our own existential status, among other things, the fact that we are but an infinitesimally small and insignificant constituent of an unfathomably old and vast cosmos, and the fact that our lives (as individuals and as a species) are relatively short as we inch closer to our inevitable death.

Most people would prefer to blind themselves from these uncomfortable facts even if this is accomplished by being unconsciously driven to adopt any manner of ideologies or belief systems that serve as a means of epistemic isolation and psychological consolation.  For those that earnestly try to confront and navigate this seemingly alien existential space, whether intentionally or as a matter of chance, many are overwhelmed with anxiety, depression, and the like, even leading some to contemplate or go through with committing suicide.  If one’s sense of meaning and purpose is uprooted, it’s not surprising that they may feel lost in this world, even losing their will to live.  In short, many are simply not mentally prepared to handle a number of uncomfortable existential truths nor are we all equally well-equipped to psychologically handle many of the obstacles encountered in our human condition.  Nietzsche, Dostoyevsky, Marx, and a number of other great thinkers of the modern age knew this fact about “the masses” all too well, even if they each differed in their interpretation of, or response to, this particular problem.

The blindfolding of the masses could be taken to represent a fairly common response to the realizations brought about by modernity, manifesting itself as a kind of reflexive blindness to the present state of affairs, but also resulting in an aimless wandering, where people are in need of some kind of direction, a structure or system to guide them through what has become a very unfamiliar and often disturbing world.

Eventually Malorie and her kids find a guide of sorts, when they make radio contact with a stranger by the name of “Rick” that instructs them to travel through the woods and down a nearby river – an almost 48-hour arduous journey – to reach what appears to be their last hope of refuge.  After encountering a few hurdles along the way, including a violent run-in with a madman, and a near-death experience after cap-sizing their boat, they reach their long sought-after sanctuary.  It turns out that the sanctuary is a school for the blind, and Malorie discovers that the stranger she had spoken with on the radio is himself blind, thus granting him and a number of others at this sanctuary their own reliable means of protection from the entity.

It’s interesting to consider the fact that Malorie and her kids are being guided toward their own form of salvation by a blind person, serving as a good analogy of the role played by religious clergy, where they’re often blind to reason in order to “see” by way of faith.  And Malorie’s use of birds to help signal the level of danger around her as they’re forced to “see with their ears”, is not only a functional analogue to the coal miner’s canary, but also reflects the role that birds play in the biblical story of Noah and the Great Flood, where doves were used to signal when the flood had ended.  Malorie’s use of the birds might also be seen to represent our harnessing and domestication of nature, and how civilization has helped us overcome the brutality and indifference found within the state of nature.  But our use of technology has also created its own set of problems for us, thus paradoxically being both a source of, and solution to, many of the problems precipitating from modern life.

And might we benefit from recognizing the fact that the madmen, who are trying to force others to see what they see, are very reminiscent of religious proselytizers and theocrats – though this can also be extended conceptually to the proselytizing of atheism or postmodernism (depending on one’s interpretation of what “the entity” represents)?  Religious followers (let alone fanatics) can seem like madmen to rational skeptics, just as many atheists, skeptics, existentialists, and postmodernists can seem like madmen to mystics, traditionalists, and to the devoutly religious.  In either case of proselytizing, there’s an inherent problem when the tactics taken are too forceful, and with respect to the unforeseen consequences resulting from a “successful” ideological conversion (such as violent behavior or other forms of moral regression towards oneself or others).  The madmen symbolize quite well the fanaticism, coercion, and lack of mutual understanding that have plagued our history and constrained our cultural evolution for millennia.

Throughout this perilous journey, the trials and tribulations experienced along the way symbolize the challenges and difficulties encountered on any spiritual or transformational journey.  And, to further the religious allegory, it’s not much more of a stretch to see the capsizing of the boat (arguably the climax of this difficult journey), where both Malorie and her children are briefly submerged underwater, as a baptism of sorts – a symbolic death and resurrection – experienced just prior to reaching the final destination on their path to redemption.  Pondering over such a story should always give us pause to ask what our path to redemption, as a society, ought to be.