Obama’s new brain-mapping project is already a Lilliputian disaster
by Jon Rappoport
April 11, 2013
Why? It’s simple. The scientists don’t know what they’re doing. They have no clear objectives, and the notion of building an accurate picture of a few trillion neurons in action is as far from reality as a flea painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.
The utopian technocrats, who’ve been predicting that, by the middle of this century, they will create an artificial brain that outstrips the one inside the skull, are suddenly on vacation. They’re mumbling and backing away.
It’s the old put up or shut up. They’re shutting up. They’ve got nothing.
I guess paradise is postponed. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.
Obama’s Manhattan Project of the brain (known as The BRAIN Initiative (Brain Research through Advancing Innovative Neurotechnologies, also commonly referred to as the Brain Activity Map Project)), launched in the wake of the Sandy Hook massacre, is a sop to make suckers think science can stop murders by making accurate predictions based on some monumental, all-encompassing portrait of the mind.
The current debate, sparked by Obama’s launch, centers around “which paradigm” should be utilized in this Magellan voyage through our gray matter. That’s just a cover-up. Nobody has the faintest idea about which approach will work.
Part of the reason? The titanic complexity of brain activity is always changing, moment to moment. So even a perfect snapshot, frozen in time—which scientists have no idea how to execute—means almost nothing in the next split-second. The adage about never stepping the same river twice applies perfectly to the brain.
To illustrate the whirlpool into which scientists are stepping, their sheer incompetence, and their wretched reductionist philosophy, we have only to look at what they’ve done with the concept of a mental disorder.
In past articles, I’ve demonstrated that, of the 297 official mental disorders, none can be tested for. The diagnosis in every case is a fiction.
That is to say, there is no scientific basis for labeling a person with such a condition or prescribing a drug.
I’ve also written extensively on the toxic destruction wrought by the drugs.
Behind all of this, then, what is a mental disorder?
It’s a social construct invented by psychiatrists and their allies to carve up the concepts of mind, brain, behavior, and thought. This construct is primarily inhibiting, which means that a kind of ceiling is created on human experience and consciousness.
“If you go there, or there, or there, or there, you have an illness, a disease, a disorder.”
Control.
“Stay here, don’t go there. This area means you’re all right; that area means you’re not all right.”
But of course, millions of people like the fiction. They like it for various reasons. And they absolutely insist on equating the fact that people suffer, have problems, lose control, can’t fit in, feel pain, are confused, with the idea of mental disorders.
They feel compelled to make that connection. They’ll die making that connection.
These people want to be inside the prison called super-organized society, where “mental disorders” make sense. That’s where they’re comfortable. That’s where they feel they belong. That’s their “area of expertise.” That’s where they know how to maneuver.
Labels make them feel safe. The more labels the better. They enjoy tossing the labels around, as if they’ve attained special technical knowledge that equips them to make important judgments. As if there is any basis for those judgments, when of course there is no basis at all. But delusions can be friends.
The greatest ops in the history of planet Earth have always focused on the mind, because that’s where the action is. That’s where people learn to give in. That’s where people learn how to adjust, perceive, and settle on some basic notion of what reality is all about.
The basic purpose of a psyop is this: “2 plus 2 equals 5, AND that is really saying 2 plus 2 equals 4.” There it is. That’s what a psyop does.
So when Pavlov and Freud began to publish their “findings,” other men who were quite interested in societal control and organization peeped in and realized they had something astonishing on their hands: a false way to educate the masses about the mind itself.
What an enterprise that would be!
“You see, this is what your mind is. This is how it is structured. And there are these disorders, and they help define the mind. They make things clear. Learn about this. Accept it. Live with it. Understand your own mind. Here’s how to do it.”
Just as the Roman Church (the old Roman empire, reorganized to conquer by other means) once took all of history, took key events in history and recast them as mere symbols of underlying metaphysical Church doctrine, thereby cutting off adherents from the richness and vitality of the past, so this 20th-century psyop has distanced people from the free and untrammeled energies of their own minds.
Today’s psychiatrist, the secular priest in a white coat with a medical degree, with 297 mental disorders to play with, and patients lining up for drugs, is the foot soldier in a vast op to train the mind to think about itself in very specific and narrow terms.
Moral and intellectual midgets like Hillary Clinton and a bevy of beautiful celebrities, enlisted as dupes, work the angle of “removing the stigma” from a mental-disorder diagnosis, as if that were a real problem, instead of a down-and-dirty 2am infomercial hustle.
Gone are the days when psychologists and psychiatrists made statements like this:
“The cry for freedom is a sign of suppression. It will not cease to ring as long as man feels himself captive. As diverse as the cries for freedom may be, basically they all express one and the same thing: The intolerability of the rigidity of the organism and of the machine-like institutions which create a sharp conflict with the natural feelings for life.”
(Wilhelm Reich, Work Democracy, 1937)
“Rooting [yourself] in work is crucial to any accomplishment. Rooting in mere enthusiasm will in the long run force illusory measures to keep the fires of empty enthusiasm going. And this makes politics and politicians.”
(Reich, Writings, 1951)
“If the psychic energies of the average mass of people watching a football game or a musical comedy could be diverted into the rational channels of a freedom movement, they would be invincible.”
(Reich, The Mass Psychology of Fascism, 1933)
A terrorist is the product of our education that says that fantasy is not real, that says aesthetics is just for artists, that says soul is only for priests, imagination is trivial or dangerous and for crazies, and that reality, what we must adapt to, is the external world, a world that is dead. A terrorist is a result of this whole long process of wiping out the psyche.”
(James Hillman, psychologist)
Instead, we have this (an opening statement in a recent psychiatric study): “Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD) is highly comorbid with alcohol disorders (AUDs) and cannabis dependence. However, the temporal sequencing of these disorders has not been extensively studied to determine whether SAD serves as a specific risk factor for problematic substance use.”
This is the language of the machine, adapted for human use, with the human “under observation” viewed as a machine. It is the language whose basic building blocks are categories of scientifically non-existent disorders. It is a tinker-toy language applied to the mind.
It is to the actual mind and imagination as a junk-heap robot is to Keats or Yeats or Dylan Thomas.
It is a sign of a fool’s errand such as the world has never seen.
Yet, it captivates. People want to learn more, as they might want to learn more about how a dinner table was set in an old English manor; where each fork was placed and what it was for, how the napkins were folded, how many glasses went with each place setting.
People think they are being given a window on the brain.
However, they are being instructed in a reduction of energy, life, and joy with each lesson, with each little foray into mechanistic sophistry.
Psychiatry is the language of bureaucracy. Every sentence sits on a presumption that in turn refers to a department where people bend over work they will transfer to a division which will rearrange it and coordinate it with other incoming streams of senseless calculation.
“Yes, well, we thought that disorder A preceded B 37% of the time, but we were mistaken. A more accurate figure would be 41%, and even then we have to take into account the overlapping symptoms of disorder C…”
Not only is psychiatry a grand op, it’s also a phenomenon arising from the fact that people want to submerge and bury their discontents, which they see no way to explore. In this sense, psychiatry and psychology become theater. The participants take on roles based on the premise that there is no way out. No way out of being a dutiful citizen inside a highly organized prison of social and political choices.
Be a person with a disorder. Be a person who can express emotion within the context of “having problems.”
In the middle of writing this, I went into the living room and turned on the TV set. I saw a close-up of a woman crying on the Dr. Phil show. I have no idea what she was crying about, but I did see, quite clearly, that she was having the time of her life, the only time of her life. She was digging her hole deeper, because it was something to do. It was something far better than the routine of a day spent distracting herself from a mysterious X she knew nothing about and wouldn’t dare inhabit.
That X is boredom of the soul. It can extend light years in every direction, because it has nothing to do with society. Society becomes the occasion, the means to express boredom.
“Show me a place where the people always follow the rules and the customs and I will go there, because then I can reveal how exhausted I am.”
This is a grand tradition. It is even expressed in the ancient Greek myths. Behind all the power and action and rage and lust of the Olympian gods, those great myths invented by the Greek poets, there was the unmistakable scent of weariness. The immortals had nothing better to do than interfere with the humans below. The gods would invent the slightest infraction they could interpret as a slight, deserving punishment.
He wandered through the forest and by accident came upon me when I was naked, so I turned him into a stag.”
Psychiatry and its allied therapies feed on boredom. They stretch it and twist it and cut it and label it. They may say that, indeed, they are concerned with the soul, but it is a lie. They are dealing with a synthetic imitation, fabricated within the structure of a dwindling civilization cut off from its vital energies.
People who choose to live inside that structure are emotionally bored, cosmically bored, universally bored, psychically bored. .
The breakout of the individual, the Soul, is not going to be accomplished through the help of a university-trained acolyte with an advanced degree.
Instead, inside the ever-more structured rules-and-regulations civilization, progress is defined within the space of a freeze-dried concentrate, a commercial package, a mechanical artifact that is never you, never me, never any of us, but only seems to be.
Under the terms of the implied contract, the professional expert says to the patient: give me a you that isn’t you and I can help him; give me a cartoon of yourself and I will cure it.
And the patient says: here it is; go to work on it; just don’t touch the real center of the storm, my psyche; don’t set sail for that place and neither will I; we both know that land is beyond any adjustments you or I, as representatives of this shrunken society, can engineer.
It’s not quite like the myth of the knights of old, crossing the threshold into the Mystery, where life itself takes on larger meaning, and great spontaneous creation rises in the unending sky every morning.
It’s not anything like that. It’s not meant to be. It’s meant to be a virtual fraud that operates on a shrunken desiccated version of ourselves.
It’s meant to be a scientific expedition to catch life in a net and pin it to a board.
It’s meant to be a potion we drink, whereby we shrivel to tiny dimensions, and then discover everything looks bizarre, precisely because we’ve reduced ourselves. And then we need help. Then we need experts.
Then we need a brain-mapping project, a preposterous babble of assurance that our experience is comprehensible and curable.
Of course, the real cure is finding a way to attain our actual size, which is without boundaries. Then and only then do we begin to see our lives. Then we see the skies beyond the cartoon sky. Then we see the great adventure. Then we feel the cosmic boredom of the soul disintegrate. Then we feel Freedom, not freedom. Then we shrug off these fools and operators who are trying to enthrall us with their yak-yak-yak sewing machines of false knowledge.
Jon Rappoport
The author of two explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED and EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at www.nomorefakenews.com
[…] http://jonrappoport.wordpress.com/2013/04/11/obamas-new-brain-mapping-project-is-already-a-lilliputi… […]
[…] Think about it. Since when does the government do anything like this ‘for the common good’? This is a HUGE endeavor, requiring HUGE amounts of money. Yes–studies into the working of the human brain would be a good thing. Just why would the US government fund such an undertaking, when many American citizens don’t have access to even the basic necessities, such as clean food, healthcare, education, etc.? For military use, that’s why. The US military is so much more tech-advanced than us common folk (perhaps by 30 years or more.) It conducts lots of government-funded research, ever improving ways to kill people. As of late, the government has expanded on the Patriot Act, making even more legal to do away with citizens it ‘suspects’ of being terrorists. Think computer chips. Think mind control in the form of drugs (unlike the pharmaceuticals on the market today for mental illness).
I guess fluoridation of the water supplies is not good enough for the US government.
Freedom. Not freedom. Damn right.
[…] View original article here […]
So maybe my overwhelming desire to kiss someone who is not my boyfriend really does have something to do with my heart, and is not “sex addiction.”
Just, maybe.
D.H. Lawrence
The Triumph of the Machine
They talk of the triumph of the machine,
but the machine will never triumph.
Out of the thousands and thousands of centuries of man
the unrolling of ferns, white tongues of the acanthus lapping at the sun,
for one sad century
machines have triumphed, rolled us hither and thither,
shaking the lark’s nest till the eggs have broken.
Shaken the marshes, till the geese have gone
and the wild swans flown away singing the swan-song at us.
Hard, hard on the earth the machines are rolling,
but through some hearts they will never roll.
The lark nests in his heart
and the white swan swims in the marshes of his loins,
and through the wide prairies of his breast a young bull herds his cows,
lambs frisk among the daisies of his brain.
And at last
all these creatures that cannot die, driven back
into the uttermost corners of the soul,
will send up the wild cry of despair.
The thrilling lark in a wild despair will trill down arrows from the sky,
the swan will beat the waters in rage, white rage of an enraged swan,
even the lambs will stretch forth their necks like serpents,
like snakes of hate, against the man in the machine:
even the shaking white poplar will dazzle like splinters of glass against him.
And against this inward revolt of the native creatures of the soul
mechanical man, in triumph seated upon the seat of his machine
will be powerless, for no engine can reach into the marshes and depths of a man.
So mechanical man in triumph seated upon the seat of his machine
will be driven mad from within himself, and sightless, and on that day
the machines will turn to run into one another
traffic will tangle up in a long-drawn-out crash of collision
and engines will rush at the solid houses, the edifice of our life
will rock in the shock of the mad machine, and the house will come down.
Then, far beyond the ruin, in the far, in the ultimate, remote places
the swan will lift up again his flattened, smitten head
and look round, and rise, and on the great vaults of his wings
will sweep round and up to greet the sun with a silky glitter of a new day
and the lark will follow trilling, angerless again,
and the lambs will bite off the heads of the daisies for very friskiness.
But over the middle of the earth will be the smoky ruin of iron
the triumph of the machine.
Agreed,modern psychology is nuts!
That’s a lot of talking to say: they want to pretend they can judge anyone as crazy so they can lock them up.
There, I did it in 16 words.
[…] Jon Rappoport […]
The ultimate in rational insanity is an attempt to map that which has become disconnected from the root source of life, mystery…. this brain is not mind, it is not heart and the mapping project is truly the knight errants deed fostering a sense of conquering windmills and accomplishments of controlling the dreamless dream.
[…] Jon Rappoport’s blog April 11 2013 […]
Not too fast. The brain is a biological organ like others, and arguably the most complex of all. As such, it is subject to malfunction. One may argue that psychiatry is partly (or entirely?) corrupt, but it is a genuine medical practice nonetheless and carries the potential of being useful to patients and people close to them.
In fact, the idea of brain-mapping holds great promises: how about determining if Obama’s egocentrism and megalomania are due to abuse, brain lesions or genetic inheritance? How about requesting that people in position of authority (starting with school board members) disclose their mental health, so voters know what kind of brains and minds make the rules they have to obey? Of course, this may not be what Obama and his accomplices have in mind. I’ll even formulate the conspiracy theory that they would like to use mental tests for purposes of reverse selection, i.e. promoting people on account of psychopathy or other mental illnesses. But this is another story.
Love,
Yes Daniel Noel,
Everything would be peachy if the system had good intentions.
But the deeper flaw to your proposition is the assumption that the brain actually generates mind and not the other way around.
Where does the certainty of this proposition originate?
There is always another story. But who knows the final score?
\\][//
Their need to label is amazing and slapped me a little this spring as I was required to take a short course on behavior problems for my employment.
As the group leader ticked down the list of ‘signs’ I realized they were describing me in several ways. According to the lesson plan I was supposed to be learning from, I require immediate pyschiatric help and can be labeled with a 1/2 dozen ailments easily treated with meds. *LOL* – Had to use a trick I learned from ex-wife, faked a migraine so I could get out of there before I got stupid with them.
The people I am payed to care for are trapped in a system where it’s 3 hots and a cot with meds. That’s it.That is their life and could be mine in a New York minute if some nutcase shrink used their list to judge my life of semi-hermitage and non-trust of guberment folks.
“I’ll even formulate the conspiracy theory that they would like to use mental tests for purposes of reverse selection, i.e. promoting people on account of psychopathy or other mental illnesses.”
TSA: Been there, done that.
[…] Jon Rappoport’s blog April 11 2013 […]
Absolutely right on the money. These pseudo-scientific masters of psycho-babble BS are the REAL witch doctors. Forget them. Forget them all. I’ll stick with the Yogis, the Sidhas. I set out to be a Rishi (seer) and anything that gets in the way of that – is to be discarded. First, discard the “experts”, all but the one who is expert on YOU. That would be your Self, your Atman. You’ll recognize it by its unbounded, unfettered nature. Freedom, not freedom.
A big boost for the “neuroscience majors”! I was stunned whilst looking at colleges with our youngest last year. Could not believe the increase in neuroscience majors at so many of these schools — never even saw this program of study when our first child started college in ’08
hmmmm
http://www.dukechronicle.com/articles/2011/02/03/neuroscience-major-gains-popularity
AND – it’s just a stepping stone degree?
[…] I guess paradise is postponed. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. (Source) […]
[…] I guess paradise is postponed. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. (Source) […]
[…] I guess paradise is postponed. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. (Source) […]
[…] I guess paradise is postponed. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. (Source) […]
[…] The titanic complexity of brain activity is always changing, moment to moment. So even a perfect snapshot, frozen in time—which scientists have no idea how to execute—means almost nothing in the next split-second. The adage about never stepping the same river twice applies perfectly to the brain. (Source) […]
[…] The titanic complexity of brain activity is always changing, moment to moment. So even a perfect snapshot, frozen in time—which scientists have no idea how to execute—means almost nothing in the next split-second. The adage about never stepping the same river twice applies perfectly to the brain. (Source) […]
[…] The titanic complexity of brain activity is always changing, moment to moment. So even a perfect snapshot, frozen in time—which scientists have no idea how to execute—means almost nothing in the next split-second. The adage about never stepping the same river twice applies perfectly to the brain. (Source) […]
[…] I guess paradise is postponed. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. (Source) […]
[…] I guess paradise is postponed. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. (Source) […]