FINANCIAL MARKET LUNACY

 

FINANCIAL MARKET REALITY

 

JUNE 1, 2011. I know that many readers are with me as I go to the wall and gladly blow through it to depict and explain the power of imagination (magic) and present a completely different picture of reality. All this information and MUCH more is in my audio seminars, where unique exercises are presented as well.

 

But you see, other people cozily opt for consensus reality, which is the bottom of the creative barrel and is, hilariously, thought of as rock solid and dependable all the way along the line.

 

I dunno about this imagination stuff, I think I’ll stay with plain ordinary every-day reality. I wuz brought up that way…”

 

Yeah. Sure.

 

So with that, have a look at the recent financial meltdown from a different perspective.

 

Aside from those famous sub-prime mortgages, what else do we need to know about? The whole investment-market universe is a propaganda-induced hallucination. How about that?

 

There was a time, maybe 50 years ago, when people bought stocks because they saw them as a symbol for confidence in companies and growth and expansion and, therefore, confidence in America and democracy and ingenuity and so on.

 

A hard-working moderately successful husband, who wanted to parlay his assets into something more, for the future, would find a broker and open up an account. “Buy something, Bill, and hold on to it, and let it rise.”

 

Long-term investing.

 

But all that changed, as the game of buy and sell itself became the main event. It morphed into Vegas.

 

So-called stock speculation, which carried an aura of sleaze, became the hip thing to do.

 

Buy and sell in your underwear from home. Buy and sell 20 times an hour and become a millionaire by next Friday. I did it, and I’ll show you how.”

 

Clue: He didn’t do it. If he did, do you think he’d be wasting his time teaching you his secrets? Judging from his demeanor, he’d be on his yacht with seven hookers and a liquor cabinet.

 

With the Great Morph in the way trading was done, the companies whose stock people were buying was the last thing on their minds. America? The future? Confidence in this great nation? Is that what a demented addict at the craps tables on the Strip is thinking about as he blows on the dice?

 

The whole game changed.

 

And big companies like banks and insurance outfits and even pension funds got deeply into the deal. They were all investing in the market and shoving in their chips on making a profit that way.

 

The reach of the game widened.

 

In this vast interlocking CONSENSUS REALITY OF VEGAS-ON-WALL-STREET, everybody and his brother got into the act.

 

So if the market suddenly tanked, the reality could split at the seams.

 

Probably the Pope could develop ulcers.

 

From this perspective, think about the following: institutions whose lifeblood is lending money to people…if those guys are investing, investing, investing in the market, and if they suddenly experience big losses, and they don’t have the same ability to lend money, then everybody who wants loans to start businesses or order new materials is up the creek and creek is dry.

 

This consensus reality, involving so many various players, could cause the whole economy of the country to spiral down out of control.

 

That’s ordinary reality for you.

 

That’s the religion so many people are backing.

 

From the point of view of a company that’s selling stock to raise money for expansion, the vagaries of the market can be brutal.

 

We’re performing well as a company, but our stock goes up and down without any seeming reference to that.”

 

What did you expect? Sanity?

 

When bad mortgages were packaged in units, like stocks, and traded like baseball cards all over the world, it was with the assumption that the whole game of buying and selling could somehow remain independent of the value of those mortgages, forever. Big banks in this game, finally incurring huge losses, tightened up their lending policies on all fronts…and in a society that runs on credit (loans), the curtain began dropping.

 

Of course, at that point, things became quite confusing, because these banks and other big players started lying in new and inventive ways. Who knows how many lies were told?

 

But regardless, when loose credit turns into tight credit overnight, the chance of a crash and depression looms.

 

Hence, the bailout.

 

Imagine players at a Vegas casino, where the bosses (insanely) extend blanket credit to cover losses and encourage further gambling…and then, one night, the bosses say enough. No more credit. Lots of people at the tables are caught with their pants down.

 

When the government issued $700 billion to patch-patch the broken system, banks turned around and said, “You want us to lend this money now. You want the credit to flow again, but at the same time you’re telling us to be more cautious about whom we lend money to.”

 

In this nexus, there was certainly lying and cheating going on, but the upshot was the lending didn’t smoothly pick up again.

 

The fundamental thing a person asks for, from consensus reality, is that it be consistent. If you have a table, and you put objects on it, they stay there. They don’t start walking around on the table and floating in the air. Because if they do, what’s a table for? Each thing has a function, and the functions mesh.

 

The sudden bubble in the trading markets popped because the commonly held hallucination developed flaws. Its elements didn’t obey their assigned functions. And then, as the repair work began, the loans didn’t flow as they were supposed to. More dysfunction.

 

Remember AIG, the insurance giant? A trader there invented a money maker. AIG would sell insurance to companies that were trading the packaged bad mortgages…just in case the packages turned bad. Of course, the idea was they would never turn bad. Well, what kind of insurance plan is that? “We’ll sell health insurance on the premise that no one will ever get sick.”

 

People inside the hallucination were doing things that would explode it. Why? Because they were convinced the consensus would hold, no matter what. The hallucination would remain.

 

It’s not so very different from a person on LSD who, say, walks around thinking he’s a Dutch settler in the American colonies. It all works until he arrives in New York looking for Indians who want to unload Manhattan for a handful of beads.

 

Assume for a minute that the financial meltdown happened through manipulation, on purpose, as a way of impoverishing, demoralizing, and pressing down on populations and making them helpless and malleable. Even then, we’re still talking about a basic set-up (trading markets and how they operate) that massive numbers of people have to buy into, in the first place, as consensus ordinary reality.

 

This is America. This is the world. This is the way it works. This is a mutually beneficial trillion-dollar operation that goes on and on and on…and smart people take advantage of it, to expand their assets…this is what every intelligent person does.”

 

Brush your teeth twice a day, buy stocks.

 

Bottom line?

 

Every ordinary reality has loopholes, and people will try to capitalize on them, and in the process, actual holes will show up and expand, until the hallucination sags and deteriorates…at which point the monitors will do anything they have to, to re-inflate it.

 

These ordinary realities, through thick and thin, are viewed by most people as basic to life itself.

 

The truth is, they are products of imagination.

 

And since that is so, why not start from the real platform of power, which is you and your imagination and what you deeply want to create?

 

JON RAPPOPORT

www.nomorefakenews.com

qjrconsulting@gmail.com

To view Jon’s audio-seminar catalog, scroll down in this email and click on MARKETPLACE, or visit the site and go to the store.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

UNIVERSE MANUFACTURING

 

UNIVERSE MANUFACTURERS

 

MAY 31, 2011. Here are several ads from an interdimensional newspaper that might prove informative:

 

UNIVERSE MANUFACTURING! Let us build it for you! Move-in ready. All appliances and energy sources. Consult our catalog. Gods supplied or not. Easy entrance, no exit. Pre-hypnosis induced painlessly in our clean spacious facilities by licensed physicians!

 

CUSTOM BUILT UNIVERSES OUR SPECIALTY! Uni-language, gated planets, military emperors. Inspect our plans, work with a seasoned professional. Dignified cemeteries. CSI reruns.

 

A RETIREMENT UNIVERSE for the whole family! Do you want to pass on your genes to millions of future generations? Of course you do! Why else would you be alive? In our universe, we supply a religion that forbids gene waste, under penalty of deportation to a state-run hospital. Appoint surrogates to wage an eternal war between matriarchal and patriarchal gene-transmission preference. Square dancing, ping-pong tournaments, celebrity-look-alike performers on weekends.

 

COLLECTIVE GOO UNIVERSE FOR ADDLED MINDS! Be part of the Doofus! Delete thinking! Experience the thrill of melting down in 24/7 love with the One All Thingo! At first you’ll feel icy winds whipping through your separated soul on the plains of cruel choice. But then, at the last moment, from the deepest well of reality, a radiant finale will clutch your sacred yearning, as you’re shot up on to on a cloud of honey and transported to a fortress where patented OmniJuice floods your being and you realize this is your home forever! Soft rock, lake of marshmallows, electro-massage units. One and two bedroom apts.

 

NATURE IS NATURE UNIVERSE! Hunt for 60,000 years, fit into the environment, hear the roots grow; climb trees, shepherd goats, bath in snow, chant in monotone, blow up evil machines in distant cities. Exclusive Gaia tweets. Become utterly convinced there is nothing else! Raise children as primates! “Secrets of the Urine Garden” for first five callers.

 

AT LAST! THE SOULMATE UNIVERSE! Let us design your agonizing quest for the other half of yourself. You met a stranger for 18 seconds in a hotel bar? He’s here! Receive your initiation rites in the Oprah Palace and journey out on to the landscape of despair. Lifetimes of synchrony…and just-misses…and then….but we can’t give away the glorious ending. You know you want it, so let us build this low to mid-range IQ universe with billions of extras and millions of planets. Herbal wraps, hot stones; vegan paramedics on call.

 

PROMISE OF PARADISE UNIVERSE, slightly used version, for sale at giveaway price. Commit untold numbers of righteous acts that would be considered capital crimes with special circumstances in other universes, along the severe path of loyalty to a standard that will put you in a heaven others are denied. Commandments, holy book, some flagellation required. All races and religions invited. We have our own God and he’s pissed off!

 

VICTIMS PLUS! Have you been inventing a story of oppression that’s somehow never been accorded its proper due? Well, in our universe, we bring in the sheep and put bows on their necks! This your place! Normals supplied as foils. All the tables are turned. For once (and forever), you get what you deserve! Lavish benefits! Pre-training in the necromancy of bureaucratic interactions. Work the system as it’s never been worked before! Choose from a catalog of disorders. Full insurance coverage extended to family members.

 

THE END OF IMAGINATION UNIVERSE! Have you finally reached the end of your tether? Want to attribute all magic and creation to an external source? We have attractive life paths for trillions of serial incarnations. You’ll go with God, you’ll go with science, you’ll go with money, you’ll go with pills. We have it all. Our calibrated partial-narcosis treatments will saddle you with just enough doubt to make you wonder whether you’re doing the right thing by your existence…and yet, in the end, you’ll submit to a Greater Pattern. Geometric homilies, sacred this and that, ideal forms, gradualism, “it’s all about family,” “I’m doing this for the children,” “you only live once,” endless distractions constructed on the basis of “realism,”–you’ll become facile with them all. We’ll keep you hopping! Try our new on-and-off paranoia option. Limited light-year adventures available in some areas. Inquire about liability. Ask yourself if the End of Imagination Universe is right for you.

 

And a small classified ad: “Universe disintegration plus universe invention=You. Details re imagination. Send $35 and self-addressed stamped envelope to PO Box 43920518-A, Altoona, Pennsylvania.

 

JON RAPPOPORT

www.nomorefakenews.com

qjrconsulting@gmail.com

If you received this as an email, scroll down to MARKETPLACE and order an audio seminar.

 

 

 

 

HOW DEEP THE SCAM

 

HOW DEEP THE SCAM

 

MAY 31, 2011. The words “religion” and “imagination” are not usually used in the same sentence. Bad for business.

 

If they ran an imagination contest, and somehow a devotee of religion won, he might say, in an unguarded moment, “Look, this is the score. I imagine God and religion, because I can’t do any better. This is as far as I can go.”

 

Of course, he’d confess to that like an ant would read the label on a bottle of honey.

 

Religion IS default imagination. It’s what’s left over when a person gives up on imagination.

 

Okay, hit me with the myth. Embroider it. Bring in all the angels and the rituals and the texts. I surrender.”

 

Why do you think the Roman Church built all those cathedrals in Europe? To convince the population their own imagination couldn’t rival these gigantic stone hulks.

 

Today, it’s TV. Same deal.

 

Do you really think you can go up against 400 reruns of Law and Order every day?”

 

To put this a slightly different way, if people got together and said they wanted to install a ceiling on imagination, whatever they came up with WOULD BE RELIGION.

 

How else could they make the limitation stick?

 

One of the main features of society is that it’s a place where you can “get religion.”

 

COME ON IN, FOLKS. LEAVE YOUR DONATION AT THE DOOR. ALL ARE WELCOMED. LET ME SHOW YOU WHAT WE HAVE TO OFFER. OH, LOOK AT THIS. A CEILING ON IMAGINATION. THIS IS VERY, VERY POPULAR. IT’S CALLED RELIGION. LET ME EXPLAIN HOW IT WORKS.

 

With burgeoning revenues, religions can hire artists to produce painting and sculpture and design to actually DEPICT THE CEILING ON IMAGINATION. That’s quite a twist.

 

A few centuries of this sort of operant conditioning and you’ve got a sizable flock.

 

So some guy wanders into the Pope’s chamber and says, “Your Highness, I want to show you a universe I’ve created myself. It’s very interesting…”

 

I think they still have his skeleton in the Vatican basement.

 

Here’s another scenario. A painter paints an abstract painting on a large canvas. Somebody with a few billion dollars decides to mount a PR campaign to extol this painting. Relentless. After 20 years, 50 million people have seen and adored the picture. At least they think they adore it because in various in ways, they’ve been told to.

 

What do you have? Chances are: religion.

 

I stood before it and I was transported into another realm where I heard music. The notes showered down on me and I fell to my knees and saw my dead aunt. She spoke a language I had never heard before…”

 

A friend just emailed and reminded me about the use to which the UFO movement has been put. One segment of that community (and this has nothing to do with whether UFOs exist or where they come from) think that, with the arrival of space aliens, we will UNDERGO A RELIGIOUS CONVERSION. Wait. How did religion get into the act?

 

My first action as president, emperor, ruler-of-all will be to declare a religion holiday.

 

MY FRIENDS, ON JUNE 9TH, WE WILL TAKE A BREATH AND STEP BACK AND FORGET ABOUT ALL RELIGIONS. WE’LL REMEMBER THAT THIS WAS ALL IMAGINATION. AND STILL IS. AND THEREFORE, IMAGINATION IS VERY POWERFUL. LET’S NOT DEMEAN IT OR SET A CEILING ON IT, LET’S USE IT.

 

Hmmm. Have to rework that. Comes across a little too much like an ad for GE or IBM.

 

Meanwhile, I’m working on a new HOLY SACRED pill. You take it once a month and for a three-minute chunk out of the month you experience an intense influx of HOLY SACRED, which keeps you satisfied for the rest of the month. The pill experience is designed to make you feel the HOLY SACRED is coming from an external unnameable mysterious source. Side effects include dropping to your knees, a flood of tears, extensive gratitude, feeling tiny, and, occasionally, inflicting wounds on self. But these effects only last for three minutes, then you’re good for the month.

 

You realize your imagination is infinite, and you get on with creating new realities.

 

The uplift from THAT more than makes up for the loss of HOLY SACRED.

 

Amusing coda: as I was putting the finishing touches on this piece, our doorbell rang eight or nine times. Ding. Ding ding. Ding ding ding…

 

Jehovah’s Witnesses.

 

I kid you not.

 

JON RAPPOPORT

www.nomorefakenews.com

qjrconsulting@gmail.com

If you’re receiving this as an email, scroll down a little and click MARKETPLACE. My audio seminars are listed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SAY THAT AGAIN?

 

SAY THAT AGAIN?

 

The trouble with Buddhism?–in order to free oneself of all desire, one has to desire to do so.”

Henry Miller, “Henry Miller on Writing,” 1964

 

MAY 30, 2011. Here is a slice attributed to Joseph Campbell, celebrated author of The Hero with a Thousand Faces:

 

The goal of life is to make your heartbeat match the beat of the universe, to match your nature with Nature.”

 

Maybe he penned that on a slow Saturday afternoon. Maybe he had indigestion. Maybe he was sipping a few rum and Cokes.

 

It’s hard for me to think of a quote I’d disagree with more.

 

Hitch your imagination up to a few horses, and let’s take a ride into the heart of Nature, where we’ll do the Great Merge, and then, like Sampson, we’ll all have suitable haircuts and wear badges as citizens of the great Match.com.

 

No thanks. I’ll fold that hand.

 

The deck is being dealt from the bottom.

 

Give me the joker, the wild card—imagination—and you can keep on playing strip poker.

 

I’ll wait and watch everybody go broke.

 

Whatever else you want to say about it, Nature, universe, is one work of art among many, among a potential infinity of works of art.

 

The others are supplied by imagination.

 

The ancient Tibetans had it right. Become the tree if you want to. Go all the way inside the inside. Merge with the rhythms, the sap, the energy, the space and time of it, the mind and soul of it…go as deep as deep is…love it with all your might if you want to…and THEN, when you’ve hadenough, DIS-ATTACH. Ditto for rock, cloud, sky, star.

 

Do you really want to believe your goal is to merge PERMANENTLY with one work of art? Do you want to believe you’re not going to create your own?

 

Kandinsky is credited (sort of) with painting the first abstract painting, in 1911. A picture that didn’t refer to Nature. Then critics decided: well, OF COURSE Kandinsky was making reference to Nature. He had to. Where else can a painter go?

 

This sort of pundit-nonsense will always be with us. Just as hypnotism will always be with us.

 

I’d prefer the opposite extreme of commentary: “we’re no longerbamboozled by Nature or the universe…”

 

The problem here? It’s RELIGION. The propaganda of devotion to universe/Nature. As if, in such humility, there is great pride.

 

Always a bad sign.

 

Just to make things clear–

 

Question: “If we’re not going to match ourselves to Nature, what’s left?”

 

Answer: “99.99999999999999999999 %.”

 

Prostrate ourselves before universe? It’s like saying all magic springs from wood sprites. If you buy that one, I have a an 18-wheeler on Bernard’s Star I’m unloading at a loss.

 

Like all religion, universe-worship is a confession of creative bankruptcy.

 

This is all I can imagine—don’t bug me. I’m a nature guy.”

 

For some artists, Nature/Universe is like a pole pole vaulters use to get over the bar. Fine. No problem. Gauguin, Van Gogh, Cezanne. Go to it. But let’s not take this into the realm of ultra-psychology, as Campbell does in his quote, above. Wonder whether he really wrote it.

 

At any rate, the sentiment expressed is one that millions of people believe they believe. Until they don’t. Until they see, quietly, it’s a mask.

 

The other day I saw a guy hawking newspapers on the corner:

 

HEY, GETCHUR PAPE! UNIVERSE AND US ARE ONE BIG GOO! JOIN UP. BE A BLOCK CAPTAIN! SPREAD THE WORD! GOO GOO. WE MERGED! FOR GOOD! NO GOING BACK NOW! THE WEDDING’S OVER! FROM HERE ON OUT, IT’S ONE LONG HONEYMOON!

 

Imagination was fun for a while. But then we got goo. Much, much better.” Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

 

The joker in the deck, as I said, is imagination. It’s the override. Of course, some people think of this as a felony.

 

Basically, poet/ philosopher Giordano Bruno was executed for it by the Church. On February 17, 1600, in the Campo de’ Fiori, after languishing in prison for seven years—the length of his trial for heresy—Bruno was burned at the stake.

 

Now, imagination is simply ignored, and little gods of nature jet set around the world spreading the holy message of devotion.

 

I want meadows red in tone and trees painted in blue. Nature has no imagination.”

Charles Baudelaire

 

In America, the Indian spirit has been mythologized with gloss, by others, for a long, long time. As if their Oneness with Nature was so profound it was a constant hum. Think about it. Do you really believe that when food was short and winter on the plains was long, when the Buffalo went far away, when times were very, very tough, when people were sick, all the Indians all the time maintained a solid stance and inhabited the painting that is Nature? That some didn’t curse and wish for another kind of world? Separate the phony historians and the B movies from the truth. Do you think all Indians were the same—or were there differences between people as there are in any other group?

 

This myth and other similar tales are blown way out of proportion for self-serving reasons, by people who were never part of any functioning tribe, who never really “lived in Nature.”

 

I point this out, because Universe/Nature as religion is coming back strong again. Has been, for some time. It’s a facet of deemphasizing the individual—who is the one who has imagination. The only one.

 

JON RAPPOPORT

www.nomorefakenews.com

qjrconsulting@gmail.com

If you’re receiving this as an email, scroll down a little and click on MARKETPLACE, and browse available audio seminars.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONCE UPON A WEIRD

 

ONCE UPON A WEIRD

 

If Jesus had been killed twenty years ago, Catholic school children would be wearing little electric chairs around their necks instead of crosses.”

Lenny Bruce

 

MAY 28, 2011. There was a society that consisted of only 20 people. They lived in cottages in a valley.

 

There was no one else on the planet.

 

These people had no children, but they lived for a very long time. In fact, no one had ever died.

 

Above the planet, there were 20 moons. Each person had his own moon. Every night, he/she looked at his/her moon.

 

Joe told Carol, “You know what? There are only a few things we need. Food, clothing, shelter, and trinkets.”

 

Carol said, “You just figured that out?”

 

It strikes me,” Joe said, “that whatever work I do, it’s about one of those four things. But I want to do something more. Yesterday, I imagined doing much more.”

 

And what was that?” Carol said.

 

Moving my moon.”

 

Her mouth fell open.

 

That’s impossible. The moons rise and set. That’s it. They’re on their own.”

 

I know,” Joe said. “But it’s the only thing I can think of doing that excites me.”

 

And if you can move it,” she said, “everything will spin into chaos.”

 

Yeah,” Joe said. “That’s what we all think. I mean, nobody talks about it, but we all believe it. Suppose we’re wrong.”

 

Then you move a moon. So what? You have to balance that against the possibility of destroying the world.”

 

Well,” Joe said, “I’ve figured it out. See, things are in balance. And as long as they are, nothing changes.”

 

Carol told Mike about this, and Mike told Ethel, and Joe ended up in a locked room in his cottage. A prisoner.

 

At his trial, he said, “Two things. One, everybody says it’s impossible to move a moon, so why can’t I try? And two, I was just talking to Carol about doing it. Why is that a crime?”

 

Mike, who was appointed judge, said: “I’ve thought long and hard about this, Joe, and I’ve decided you’ll be confined to quarters for the duration, for the foreseeable future.”

 

In his room, Joe started painting his moon on sheets of paper. He painted it faithfully, but after a few years, he began making moons that were purple, green, red, orange. He painted flat moons and triangular moons and moons with holes in them. He painted moons that looked like beds, sandwiches, and long horizontal eyeballs.

 

One day, he painted a moon with saw teeth, and he felt the floor tremble and the walls tremble. Outside his room, a tree fell and huge blue plumes of energy streamed out of the ground, up into the air.

 

People came to see it.

 

One man accidentally stepped too close and he was propelled a hundred feet into the air and sat there. He looked around him.

 

So a woman tried it next, and she was also shot into the air and came to rest a thousand feet above the ground.

 

Eventually, everyone tried it—and they were all floating at different heights. Then they began drifting. They drifted back to earth and then rose again. They found they could walk through air back to the ground.

 

That night, they noticed Joe’s moon had moved in the sky. It was higher and off to the left.

 

And there was a man on that moon. He was waving. He was wearing a robe and it was flapping. He was jumping up and down, and every time he jumped, he shot up into the sky, and then came down. Finally, he jumped off, spread his arms, and flew down to the ground.

 

He was a large man with a beard.

 

By this time, somebody had let Joe out of his room and he was there, on the grass, when the man with the beard hit the turf.

 

Who are you?” Joe said.

 

Moses,” the man said. “I was climbing this hill, see? I had led my people out of Egypt and we were wandering in the desert for a long time, and then I decided to walk up this hill because there were big stones there. I was going to carve laws in the stones and bring them down to the people. It would have been a pretty good deal. You know, some people obey the laws, some don’t. You’ve got arguments, interpretations, recriminations, punishments, revenge, a deal with God.”

 

Who?” Joe said.

 

God,” Moses said. “The Guy. He’s in charge.”

 

Everybody looked at everybody.

 

And then, bang,” Moses said. “I was up on that moon.”

 

Where’s this God?” Joe said.

 

You make him up as you go along,” Moses said.

 

Joe thought about that.

 

Who made you up?”

 

Moses smiled.

 

I’m a guy in a story. I don’t know who wrote it. I was a slave and then I broke out.”

 

Broke out of the story?”

 

Yeah…I guess.”

 

Weird.”

 

I know.”

 

You want some coffee?”

 

Sure. I’ll have to do something else now. I’m cut loose.”

 

In the following days and weeks, all sorts of characters from stories began appearing.

 

They were interesting. There was a man in a red robe with a cross hung around his neck. And a tall hat that looked like a fish. He said he was the Pope. At first, he tried to boss everyone around and get them to build a tower, but then a tough guy in a cheap suit named Mike Hammer told him to back off.

 

A dapper man emerged from the earth and said he was a critic for The New York Times. Hammer grabbed him by his collar and frog-marched him to a pond and tossed him in.

 

Then one day, Moses laughed.

 

The 20 people looked at him and asked what that was.

 

I’m not sure,” Moses said, “but I want to do it again. Say something funny.”

 

Say something what?”

 

Funny. I think it’s like when you shoot up off the ground.”

 

Like?”

 

You know, when you compare one thing to another.”

 

The 20 people were bewildered. They considered bringing Moses to trial, but with all the new people around, they were distracted…

 

JON RAPPOPORT

www.nomorefakenews.com

qjrconsulting@gmail.com

 

 

IMAGINATION IS LITERAL

 

IMAGINATION IS LITERAL

 

LIKE A BIRD IS A TRUCK

 

MAY 28, 2011. Once upon a time, each thing was itself and nothing else. This suited the clan.

 

Then on a slow Tuesday afternoon, a member made a comparison in language—one word to another.

 

Half the clan wanted to throw him over a cliff, and the other half wanted to get down on their knees and pray to him.

 

They flipped a coin—or a wheel or a rock—and decided to reserve judgment because, fortunately for the future, the coin landed on its edge.

 

Thus metaphor was allowed to expand.

 

Something heretofore unknown was stimulated: imagination.

 

Immediately, an underground movement was formed to stop this. It was illegal by a Higher Standard, and it would certainly corrupt the young.

 

I’ve lobbied for a bill that would require every child, by the age of 18, to come up with one interesting metaphor, or face death, but the bill has stalled in committee.

 

And green and golden, I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves

Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,

And the sabbath rang slowly

In the pebbles of the holy streams.

(Fern Hill, Dylan Thomas)

 

In the New Age—rainbow and pot of gold—there is no more metaphor, because that is confusing. Better to reinterpret it as literal truth and make believe it’s so. Flatland revisited.

 

In another venue, walk up to Security at a major airport and say, “My God, this is a Venice brothel without the cheap champagne,” and see whether you wind up in a small room with four cops.

 

The literalists take over. And they don’t even care anymore whether the trains run on time.

 

If you write a sentence that is more than declarative, the majority is baffled.

 

That girls at puberty may find

The first Adam in their thought,

Shut the door of the Pope’s chapel, Keep those children out.

There on that scaffolding resides

Michael Angelo.

With no more sound than the mice make

His hand moves to and fro.

Like a long-legged fly upon the stream

His mind moves upon silence.

(WB Yeats, “Long-Legged Fly”)

 

This is this. That is that. This is THIS. That is THAT. On and on, like a steamroller, until the mind and imagination go to sleep.

 

The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel.

(William Gibson, “Neuromancer”)

 

Deploying imagination (or understanding it) is not like sending columns of troops out to battle.

 

And without irony or metaphor—two of the million children of imagination—there is no laughter.

 

Just stolid old USSR eyes asking for records.

 

Imagination doesn’t work in a straight line. You can’t take a simple declarative sentence and make a one-for-one translation and turn it into imagination.

 

Conversely, you can’t ask Melville to write a children’s book. You can’t put imagination in a step-down decompression chamber and come out with anything except mush.

 

The literalists think there is something good about taking a star a million times bigger than our sun and icing it until it looks like our moon.

 

They are trying to engineer a Flatland reality for the masses. They may not know it, but that’s the limit of what they can conceive.

 

These are the letters of my ancient fathers,

And these are the letters of the roses

Blowing across the rolling apparatus

That moves the sun,

Shining through old windows

On statues of drowned men.

 

Now they shake off the rime

And stagger up from their trench,

Without a city.

 

They form a many-rayed subconscious moon.

 

(Rappoport, from The Thunderhead Cantos)

 

Society: all the possibilities of metaphor harnessed to produce a non-metaphoric cartoon.

 

JON RAPPOPORT

www.nomorefakenews.com

qjrconsulting@gmail.com

If you’re receiving this as an email, scroll down a little and click on MARKETPLACE to see my audio seminars.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SIX PIECES OF SILVER

 

SIX PIECES OF SILVER

 

MAY 27, 2011. There is a fear of language. The major symptom is paranoia—uh-oh, veering away from traditional constructions will leave everyone in chaos.

 

This is what’s wrong with conservatives. They assume ALL deviation is a sign of an apocalypse, or something, a symptom of total degeneration of the species.

 

A little planned ambiguity gets you a special seat in a ring of Hell.

 

And a string of metaphors? Flame throwers for eternity.

 

Two sentences that don’t quite add up is a conspiracy.

 

(Liberals have their own brand of insanity that, these days, mainly revolves around trying to ban words and phrases and turn them into crimes.)

 

Well, here’s news. If you KNOW the language and then bend it, so what?

 

Applesauce, applesauce,” said the Queen, “what is applesauce? Whoever started this thing must hang!”

–rumored (by me) to have been omitted from Alice Through the Looking Glass

 

 

Oh for chrisakes don’t be scared of words, Charlie said. You’re running down the street after a coupla definitions dropped down a sewer like you lost an ARM. Relax. You might hit the jackpot. You might get a feeling something NEW happened…

 

 

Three pictures in a row on Thursday

ARE A HYPNOTIC LUNCH

then crowds walk through a movie theater

and break the spell

we weren’t in a trance after all

we were thinking about billiard balls on a table that never collide

 

 

average distillation common denominator

you hit him with a few words he doesn’t

put together right away

and he goes into the television for the answer

 

 

Here is a collage

You nobly call your life

the teacher wants you to deconstruct it

and put the pieces in a drawer

INSTEAD YOU CLIMB ON TO THE CEILING

AND WALK UPSIDE DOWN

blow through the wrong end of the trumpet for a while and see what happens

 

 

here’s a perfect crystal

so what

we learned nothing

 

JON RAPPOPORT

www.nomorefakenews.com

qjronsulting@gmail.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WHY IMAGINATION EQUALS MAGIC

 

WHY IMAGINATION EQUALS MAGIC

 

Mountains, Bruce, mountains,” the manager said.

Mountains, Bruce, mountains,” Bruce said and gazed.

Echolia, Bruce, echolia,” the manager said. “Echolia, Bruce–”

Okay, Bruce,” the manager said, and shut the cabin door behind him, thinking, I believe I’ll put him among the carrots. Or beets. Something simple. Something that won’t puzzle him.

 

Philip K Dick, A Scanner Darkly

 

 

MAY 27, 2011. Ordinary reality—and all those dedicated to living in it and propagating it—is the residue, the leftover, when imagination isn’t being employed with intensity.

 

Ordinary reality is organized with a minimum of imagination. That is its hallmark.

 

Ordinary reality is what people usually think is (might be) changed by magic.

 

Yet, ordinary reality is constructed as a network of interconnected parts, in order to exclude imagination.

 

I’m ordinary reality. Try to change me through imagination.”

 

This can provoke much hitting-head-against-brick-wall.

 

Of course, there are many venues in which imagination can be deployed. The arts. Science. Invention. In fact, the closer you look, the more you realize imagination can be used universally.

 

However, when applied against ordinary reality, it often seems imagination produces little or no change.

 

That’s an illusion.

 

It turns out that ordinary reality was created BY imagination—but with a strange plan. “We’ll use imagination to make a reality that seems to resist imagination.”

 

In other words, it’s a trick.

 

It’s like saying, “I’ll create a labyrinth, so I can wander around in it and get lost.”

 

Or: “I’ll pretend I have no imagination, so I can need imagination.”

 

Or: “Let’s build the greatest wall there ever was. Let’s use our imagination to construct that wall around us, let’s make it out of steel and make it a hundred feet thick, so that when we’re finished, we’ll be trapped inside and we won’t be able to figure a way out, even though we want to get out.”

 

Or: “Let’s build ordinary reality so that it seems to resist magic in every way…and then let’s say we really want to make magic.”

 

Nice trick.

 

How about this for a solution? We grasp the full meaning of this self-defeating strategy…and then, boom, with that insight, we find we can walk through walls.

 

Doesn’t work.

 

How about this? Particle by particle, we dismantle ordinary reality and put all those particles out into space and then we’ll able to make magic? Doesn’t work.

 

What does work?

 

As I’ve been saying, live through and by imagination long enough and intensely enough, and magic will occur.

 

Seems too simple, too straightforward, too daunting. But it’s true.

 

Because this is how you really build ordinary reality: you use enough imagination to make it exist and make it seem to resist imagination…and then you build into that process an ever-encroaching loss of your imagination…so that, at the moment the walls are finished, you appear to possess less imagination than you need to walk through the walls. Time-release self-defeat.

 

It’s another illusion, because you never lose one iota of imagination…but you pretend you do.

 

The way beyond this ridiculous complexity is: you live through and by imagination long enough and intensely enough…and you’ll eventually—as a side effect—be able to do magic.

 

 

THE TOWER

 

The tower came crashing down in the storm, not like on the Tarot card, but in pieces, one on top of the other, some splitting out sideways in the rain, and bales of money broke open and the bills drifted in the wind until they became wet enough to fall like flat stones. The tower at the end of the world was gone. The station was gone. No more transmissions. No more information. The egregious lies stopped. There was only the sound of rain and wind. And the thought of what tomorrow could bring.

 

He came out of the cave with a harpoon looking for fish. Then suddenly, he realized how ridiculous this was. The sound of rain didn’t mean fish. Why had he thought, over and over, that it did? He dropped the spear and looked up at the sky. He floated up off the earth.

 

JON RAPPOPORT

www.nomorefakenews.com

qjrconsulting@gmail.com

If you’re receiving this as an email, scroll down a little and click on MARKETPLACE to check out my audio seminars.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NOTES ON LIBERATION

 

A FEW NOTES ON LIBERATION

 

MAY 26, 2011. Liberation means freedom from closed systems.

 

It doesn’t mean entering into another closed system.

 

Freedom is the basic platform, from which new realities THAT HAVE NOT YET BEEN CONCEIVED can be imagined and created.

 

It’s a wide-open ballgame.

 

A person can never lose his imagination.

 

No matter what.

 

This is the wild card in every deck:

 

The potential for imagination.

 

There is no ultimate pattern of existence, no ultimate closed system.

 

So imagination isn’t reaching toward part or all of some Final Pattern. This is a major point.

 

Imagination is inventing something that’s never existed before.

 

There are infinities of things that have never existed before— IMAGINATION CREATES THEM…AND THEN AND ONLY THEN DO THEY EXIST.

 

We have no way of knowing what imagination will create.

 

This is non-system.

 

Imagination is individual. It isn’t collective.

 

When someone tries to explain “the ultimate reality,” he is inevitably looking at a product of imagination.

 

PAINTING:

 

Anyone can be a painter.

 

If someone denies that, he is clearly insane and shouldn’t be listened to. Period.

 

You begin. That’s the big secret. You begin.

 

You put paint on the paper or canvas.

 

I made this discovery in 1962, and it’s yours for only $49.95 and 2 boxtops from Quaker Oats and a cow.

 

You BEGIN.

 

Doesn’t matter what you do on the paper. You put on paint. See? You’ll have nothing to use but imagination.

 

Talk about being in the right place at the right time. There you are, brush in hand, paint on the brush, above the white space. Boom. You begin.

 

All the possible questions you could ask yourself to stall, including what seem to be the really sensible questions, are futile. Irrelevant. Born and bred of a culture that’s loony…so why bother.

 

Just paint. Go where you will with it. If you don’t like where you’re going, change directions. Change directions 50 times if you want to, just keep going.

 

And then on to the next sheet of paper. Keep painting.

 

There is no pattern in heaven or earth that’s relevant. You’re not only making up and inventing your painting, you’re making up (and changing) your aesthetic as you go along.

 

I predict that if you paint every day for 180 days, your life will change.

 

It’s all invention, creation, improvisation, imagination.

 

You’ll feel a liberation that’s very succulent and luscious and expansive.

 

Later on, you can try to find someone who shares your sense of liberation and can look at your work without preconceptions. But for now, JUST PAINT.

 

In a sense, when viewed from the angle I’m pursuing here, it doesn’t matter what system you teach people, if you’re going to teach. All systems are closed; they all share that property.

 

Class, I have 12 systems here in a hat. I’m going to pick one out and teach it to you. I hope, as we go along, you’ll learn what a system is really like.”

 

The life cycle of a star; capillary blood flow; decimals; the function of the kidneys; tire repair.

 

It doesn’t matter.

 

(This why my audio seminars don’t present systems.)

 

Many people find it hard to believe anything exists outside of systems. Actually, most everything is outside systems.

 

If we, on Earth, ever enter a genuinely new era, this is one of the most important facts we’ll discover.

 

EXPERIMENT X:

 

Is this an experiment or a metaphor? So far—the latter. But it could become an experiment.

 

A teacher stands in front of a class of 50,000 students. He’s teaching them some sort of linguistics. Every student has a page of text in front of him.

 

The teacher says, “Okay, turn that page upside down.”

 

Then: “Pretend this is a language. Go home and write an essay on THAT.”

 

Of the students who turn in papers, some will suggest “trying to translate it.”

 

About 50 will try to translate it—whatever that means.

 

Of those 50, 49 will attempt to establish a system whereby it could be translated.

 

The remaining one student out of 50,000—if the teacher is lucky—will wing it. HE’LL MAKE UP A TRANSLATION.

 

He’ll invent something interesting.

 

This is a very informative result, although only one out of perhaps 100,000 people would think so. The other 99,999 people would ignore that one student who just imagined and invented a translation.

 

Actually, this is what education IS like.

 

Systems are taught. Exiting out of that environment, a tiny fraction of students emerge with the idea that the key is really imagination. And they are rarely noticed.

 

JON RAPPOPORT

www.nomorefakenews.com

qjrconsulting@gmail.com

If you’re receiving this as an email, scroll down a little and click on MARKETPLACE to check out my audio seminars.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A NOTE TO MY READERS

 

A NOTE TO MY READERS

AND…

THE MERLIN MEMOIR

MAY 27, 2011. For a moment here, I’m stepping away from my recent work to comment about it.

In case you hadn’t noticed, lately I’ve been pushing my exploration of imagination into new dimensions. And I haven’t been holding back.

The quality of emails I’ve gotten has been quite fantastic. There ARE people out there who’ve been looking for, wanting, something like this. Or they didn’t think they did until they saw it in my articles.

At the same time, I realize some readers have found it hard to stay on board. So what to do?

Do I try to dilute what I’m writing? Do I try to straddle both ends of a bridge?

Well, that’s a bit of a dilemma.

We’ve all been taught that “success” comes from adjusting your mode of communication to appeal to the widest possible audience. We have movies, TV, and media as examples of that.

But I’m not really in the business of doing a juggling act. I’m not trying to gauge a “model” based on who will stick around if I write about X versus who will stick around if I write about Y.

Take the word “imagination.” I could break down the meaning so the word appears to be “just slightly ahead of our time,” as the old commercial went. I could gear my articles about imagination so they would seem to be just a few feet beyond where most people are. I could try to advance in tiny increments—hoping not to lose readers.

Of course, that approach would deny everything I’ve been saying about how imagination works. It isn’t a tight protocol or a closed system or a step-by-step manual.

Now, if you go to the store on my site, you will find audio seminars like: Mind Control, Mind Freedom; The Transformations; and The Magic and Mystery of Dialogue—where I do present techniques and exercises that really work. They DO expand imagination and its power to create realities. But those exercises aren’t timid little flips and twists. They’re big engines that operate on a wide superhighway.

The point of those exercises—and these articles—is to EXPAND THE TERRITORY.

So in the end, regardless of what happens to “the business model,” I’ll keep going as I have been going. Taking things to the limit and beyond. Because there is no limit. That’s been my premise since the beginning, and it still holds.

If my email list shrinks down to six people, I’ll probably leave a close-out piece on my site and go back to painting, writing, music, and poetry/fiction full time.

I’m not in charge of how people react to these articles.

I just want you to know how I’m looking at the present situation—which certainly has an upside, in terms of the things some of you are saying in your emails to me. For which I’m very appreciative. Excited. Inspired.

This society, civilization, planet—whether or not we have current crises of large proportions—has been in a doldrum for a long, long time. And the reason for it is simple. As a result of various breakthroughs, people found themselves on the cusp of realizing that imagination and creative power WERE the next step.

But they were unwilling to take it. They stalled at the gate. They comforted themselves with other stories, other fairy tales. They were horses led to water, but they weren’t going to drink. Despite the fact that the human race had offloaded so many paralyzing myths, people found new forms of paralysis.

They found new fundamentalisms and re-found old fundamentalisms.

The future isn’t only about what imagination produces, it’s about imagination itself—as the recognized power source we use to drive us into untold realms and fulfillments.

Okay. That’s what I wanted to say for now.

Let’s move along to this:

ON THE SPACESHIP SS GRINDER, a gigantic bloated vessel hanging in space off the edge of the Milky Way, a rescue crew finds NO ONE. The cabins and offices and labs on all decks are empty. Clean and empty. The engines are fused.

After a six-month on-board investigation, a crew member discovers a sealed cylinder on a shelf in a small cabin. Opening it, he removes a handwritten note, titled:

Merlin speaks:

Look, I’ve been making universes for a long time. I don’t make a big deal of out of it because I don’t have to.

I crank them out. Some I build, some I create whole-hog in a few seconds, maybe less.

I gave up the robe and the beard and the scepter and the stone and the sword a little while after Arthur and that whole crowd faded.

Did you know you could create a minus universe? This isn’t anti-matter nonsense, and it isn’t a reversed mirror image of something else. It’s just minus. It basically ISN’T—but there it is.

I like those. It’s a kick. In fact, evidence is mounting you people live in a minus universe. The downside is you tend to mill around and screw things up. I’ve always said a person who would take up residence in a minus universe for longer than a year is nuts. He gets the sun, the waves, the beach, a few adventures in the city—it’s time to check out.

What is magic?

Imagination. Pursued long enough and intensely enough.

That’s all.

That’s all I do.

You’d think this would be an easy point to get across, but it isn’t.

I can make things vanish and reappear. It’s a side effect of imagination.

People deny the existence of magic on three counts: it’s impossible, it’s hard, or it’s a delusion.

I wasn’t born lucky. I worked at it for a long time. I didn’t practice making things disappear. I just lived by imagination. So it wasn’t a chore, it was what I wanted to be doing.

I lived through what some people call the old magic era, when lots of people were making magic all over the place.

And I lived through technological ages that would make yours look like a wooden wagon coming out of a cave.

One thing I notice about you—you’re hypnotizing yourselves right out of imagination. It’s quite a trick. It’s a kind of magic all its own.

I know places where the people are very wishy-washy, and I bet they’d pay you a pretty penny to teach them that trick.

Imagination is like love. You keep saying you don’t want it or you yearn for it or you’re looking for it—right up to the moment when it happens. Then you stop dead in your tracks, because you know this is it.

Imagination feels a little like the future, until you use it right now, and then you make the future and present. That may sound strange, but it’s true.

Once I had an altercation with a guy who claimed he was the god of a universe I made. Can you believe that? He told me he’d made it. It was all his. I explained he was a rank liar. Then on top of that, he told me he’d give me a free pass to get in!

Some people do that. They set up shop in a place you made and they go around selling other people on their story.

You’re being sold a lot of stories. You can tell, because sooner or later they always involve giving up a piece of freedom. First you pay, then you lose. It’s a double scam.

But the worst thing I see happening when I look at your home base is the novelty con. Whatever you’re interested in on Monday, on Tuesday it has to be something else. That’s a crime and punishment all rolled into one. It cuts the legs out from under anything that’s good.

See, that’s imagination at work, too, although you might not recognize it. Just a little below the surface, you’re convincing yourself you’re bored with something that lasts longer than five minutes. You’re creating your own boredom.

And no drug is going to cure that.

You imagine you’re “human beings,” and the various definitions of that fiction floating around would drive away tourists faster than swarms of bees. You’ve concocted patterns of life that are their own prisons. Some of your most impassioned and articulate spokesmen for freedom are pushing it like dishwasher soap. It’s evident their own lives are far from free.

Remember the old phrase, Midas Touch? These days, it’s the Android Touch. Whatever androids brush up against tends to develop androidal qualities.

The question is, do you want to get out of that?

Your world is a copy of itself. It’s enduring on that basis. Actually, it went to sleep a long time ago, but the replica lives on.

Like a cartoon.

I know, everything looks and feels as real as ever, but it’s animation.

When a person goes to sleep, his vague memory of the world behind and below him is a kind of sketch. When he stays asleep, the sketch BECOMES the world. That’s a bit of a metaphor, but it makes the point.

So you’re in and on Earth Two.

The engines of this ship worked for a while, but then they fused because they were entering, shall we say, another level of reality, and they just weren’t up to the task.

I watched the frustration grow as the slowdown occurred. Nothing could be done. Finally, the entire crew vanished. It was their first act of magic.

They went into a gray area, a limbo. They’re there now, trying to figure out how to proceed. Staying on the ship would have destroyed their bodies, as the sense of weight increased.

I believe the crew will eventually find a way out. When driven to the brink…interesting solutions occur.

Meanwhile, plastic cameos of the SS Grinder will be sold to millions of people.

Since I have time on my hands, here are a few of my lesser known quotes:

You can create the same thing over and over, and eventually you’ll be about as alive as a table. Inject imagination into the mix, and everything suddenly changes. You can steer that boat anywhere you want to. You can steer it into nothing and build worlds.”

More imagination equals more life. You can try to fight that formula and its corollaries, but you won’t win.”

Sitting around in a cosmic bus station waiting for reality is what reality is. Everything else is imagination.”

The most overrated word in any language is ‘exists.’”

Traveling to places one has never seen is far different from creating something that never existed before.”

Sooner or later, you will come across people who try to assert that every power is ‘inherent in the universe.’ They will describe such power. They will keep on doing this until they realize that nothing they have discovered begins to explain consciousness or imagination. You don’t have to care about any of that. All you need to do is create with imagination for a few million years, and everything will come clear.”

You make me a painting of something that never was. I make you a painting of something that never was. The beginning of a true friendship.”

Religion, metaphysics, spiritual systems, science—they all try to explain what ultimately exists. ‘Ultimate’ is a fabrication. Imagination proliferates endlessly, beyond any attempt to explain.”

JON RAPPOPORT

www.nomorefakenews.com

qjrconsulting@gmail.com

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