KINGS WITHOUT SUBJECTS

 

KINGS WITHOUT SUBJECTS

 

JUNE 21, 2011. Different emails are coming in these days. Artists, inventors, innovators. People who are quite serious about magic.

 

They are kings without subjects, because they just CREATE. They don’t rule, and they don’t want to. They know all about that ludicrous arrangement. The power of these kings without subjects exceeds anything the most venal dictator can muster, even if the fact isn’t immediately apparent.

 

These true kings have walked out on the massive self-defeating stage play. Gone, gone.

 

I continue to return to the subject of MEANING. What means something and how does it mean something and who decides what it means and how narrow and locked-in does meaning have to be before it makes sense to the bulk of humanity—and what training has that bulk received that makes meaning such a tight and close passageway? And why is this important?

 

Every society needs shared meaning, but the inevitable outcome is the closing of the noose and the polishing and trimming of ideas and words until they are mere nubs of what they could be.

 

Imagination goes in the opposite direction.

 

It has no conditioning. It isn’t pre-programmed. It doesn’t bow down to any central authority.

 

Kings with subjects require a chained vocabulary and troops to back it up.

 

The artist throws that off and doesn’t look back, because he’s already out ahead of it. He’s already digested the common language and has embarked on a journey that goes light years beyond it. Which is where magic is.

 

Sometimes he think he should mollify and reduce his personal revolution because he has invented meanings that outstrip the consensus by so much. But he learns this is not the operating principle. He needs to keep going, he needs to improvise even more intensely.

 

The world is busy enforcing and adjusting and tempering its basic hallucination of consensus. Eventually, this leads to humanity as an ant colony. It may be a good ant colony, with specialists trained to within an inch of their lives, carrying packages here and there. But no matter how many explanations are given to bolster the existence and necessity of the colony, no matter how much tinkering is done, the result is inevitable. A living machine.

 

And an explosion of buried rage will be, in the long run, ineffective.

 

For those who’ve seen the north star of imagination, it was never a real option.

 

Think about this. Those old alchemists who were trying to transmute consciousness into a much larger version of itself…what were they dealing with? Well, they had concepts of elements—earth, air, fire, water—and they had this thing called Quintessence, which they never quite identified. They had the notion of transformation of elements, and they had the idea that these elements, in some form or another, existed in consciousness, like archetypes. Suppose…these notions had never been thought of before? Pretend. Suppose these notions of elements and Quintessence and so on had never been thought of by anyone before the alchemists. They invented these ideas to help them in their quest.

 

But, people say, that’s impossible. The thoughts and ideas had to come from somewhere. Somewhere earlier. That’s always the case. Or: there’s a kind of pattern of meaning that already exists, and the alchemists were tapping into the pattern.

 

But suppose that wasn’t the case. These alchemists just cooked up the ideas out of nothing.

 

They invented the ideas and they invented their meaning.

 

What I’m getting at here is that magic needs new meaning. Brand new. Yet most people think it’s an ancient lost art, and we have dig down and recover it. It’s already there. It has to be unearthed.

 

This is—taken to an extreme—the ant colony argument. The pattern of the colony and the history of colonies…they are THERE. They just need to be discovered and refined and adjusted and streamlined. The perfect colony awaits us. We need to lay out the MEANING on a table and look at it and put it under a microscope and trace it. Then we’ll know.

 

This is false.

 

Every artist has a moment when he realizes this, when he realizes he is inventing meaning that has never been there before.

 

He’s not merely adding a little twist to an already existing meaning.

 

He’s inventing meanings, and they are not packed-in and perfect. They burgeon with implications.

 

This is also the road of magic.

 

Society does not believe in magic. Society has no truck with magic. Society wouldn’t know magic if it was standing in the middle of the street. Society knows organization.

 

At some point, organization becomes coercion. This force, organization, explains itself to the populace, and the majority accepts the explanation—even if the force is harmful and destructive. This is why I write about the medical cartel. Few people actually recognize the degree of poisoning that is going on. From the drugs. Few people recognize that because they are wide-awake hypnotized…they have bought the explanations. They pride themselves on being able to recite the explanations. They pressure family and friends to go along with the system.

 

This is just one example of what happens when MEANING becomes a shared and tight territory.

 

Magic is something else, something entirely different.

 

The caterpillar spins a cocoon and then, later, comes out of that chrysalis of old discarded meaning into a space where sheer creation and improvisation and invention are the cardinal facts of existence.

 

JON RAPPOPORT

www.nomorefakenews.com

qjrconsulting@gmail.com

HISTORY, SCIENCE, AND MAGIC

 

HISTORY, SCIENCE, AND MAGIC

 

JUNE 21, 2011. You can take any object, event, or structure and look at it as the end result of a cause-and-effect relationship, or you can see it as a spontaneous creation in this very moment.

 

The first way is a pattern that gives rise to societies.

 

This first approach also becomes an investigation that has no end or conclusion. Of course, that fact has never stopped anyone.

 

Cause and effect investigations (history, science) satisfy the user that some sort of progression exists, an emerging exists, a fruitful tree of knowledge exists—and why not? It’s a style, a fashion, a long-running point of view. It has payoffs, once you assume you are in a continuum of great value. In a real sense, historians and scientists are actors. They know how to improvise inside a continuum and dredge up new discoveries. That’s the style of an historian, a scientist. And if such a person goes through a number of struggles and false starts to arrive at a gem of understanding, that, too, is part of the role. It works. To say Einstein was an improviser would be taken as an affront by most physicists, but so be it.

 

To see an object, structure, or event as a spontaneous creation of this very moment, however, is something else again. This perception has vastly different “production values.” For example, the pen sitting on your desk ceases to be a solid that is born out of the causative action of tiny particles in motion. Instead, it is a vivid and instantaneous presence which has no reference to time.

 

It could just as easily not exist as exist. Right now.

 

There is a flexibility about it, in that sense.

 

The hard line between either and or, between yes and no, disintegrates.

 

There is something wavering about it. And that something has to do with you, not the object. A clue is being passed to you.

 

YOU COULD CREATE THIS THING.

 

You could do this spontaneously, instantly. You could also make the pen on the table vanish.

 

What seems like a beautifully elastic holiday, during those seconds or minutes or hours when you are in the present moment, when nothing else matters, has another layer. An upper edge.

 

Which is:

 

You could create that space and time. You could create. You could imagine something else entirely. You could improvise, on the spot, other spaces and times. You could see through the stage flats of present continuum-reality into a silence.

 

This is one of the things I mean when I say the road of magic is the road of art.

 

FUTURE is an infinity of infinite possibilities. Or to look at it from another angle, imagination is the imagining of imagination.

 

No limits.

 

Every significant myth propagated by humans has a submerged dimension, and its translation opens up future, imagination, and the creation of realities beyond this continuum. For instance, each sign of the Zodiac—which itself is a time wheel—finally reveals a preoccupation with altering the ordinary sense of time. Aries stands in a vessel whose prow is out ahead of cause-and-effect, Taurus launches a frontal campaign against the tightly held assumptions about continuum, etc. So in a more profound sense, the Zodiac is not about what will happen to you; it is about what you will do with time.

 

From this perspective, the religious adoration laid at the feet of the universe is nothing more than a distraction from making magic.

 

The alchemists had an inkling about all of this. They wobbled on the edge of realizing that Quintessence, the Philosopher’s Stone, the Elixir, was imagination.

 

And although modern science departed from this path, there is another kind of possible science that flows from what I’m illustrating. It is a vastly powerful subjective approach, whereby machines and devices and technologies are invented that operate FOR THE INVENTOR and for the inventor alone.

 

He is no longer trying to unearth what is possible within the constraints of the so-called objective continuum. He is building vehicles for himself. Success in this endeavor has implications beyond his personal use…but the inventor and his universe certainly expand beyond their former conception with each breakthrough.

 

One message from this: the universe we all pay lip service to, the jointly adored corporation, can transfigure and thereafter function as a service provider to the scientist of imagination. It can feed into his personal theater. It can eagerly do so, as if it has waiting for such a moment to show its deeper aspect.

 

Was Tesla working along this line? Regardless, his myth, like all myths, suggests such a welcome prospect.

 

If we had 100,000 truly subjective scientists on this planet, brilliant and tireless improvisers, we would see changes in the continuum that would be as stimulating as watching fish walk out of the sea. The energies liberated in the process would consign the precious Law of Conservation to a shelf in a small-town museum of curios.

 

Stop messing around with that! You’re the only one who think it’s real!”

 

Beautiful. That’s exactly what I’m aiming for. But to the extreme. And by the way, when I get extreme enough, you’ll experience quite a surprise.”

 

If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise.”

William Blake

 

Rather than accepting the proposition that the observer changes what he’s observing—a passive formulation—opt for this: the inventor changes what he invents. He spontaneously accommodates it to himself. In this radical sort of science, a different theme is expressed.

 

Actually, it turns out that the subjective and objective categories of experience contain shades of meaning. A scientist can range back and forth between them, discovering and inventing, inventing and discovering, taking apart physical reality, imparting something new to physical reality, back and forth, without thinking about it. This is what the alchemists were exploring. To say they made a few contributions to the emerging “real” science is to miss the point.

 

In the end, it’s all imagination.

 

JON RAPPOPORT

www.nomorefakenews.com

qjrconsulting@gmail.com