Tag Archives: lie

DELUSIONAL PEOPLE

Faber- to fabricate, to lie, thus, ‘art is a lie!’

Modern art embraces everything, and it should, as each new generation has that many new sources of inspiration to draw from, the only new ideas are the combinations and retoolings of older, (arguably better) ‘original’ ideas. Whenever I come up with a great new idea, it appears someone else has already done it; Woody Allen, Mel Brooks, any countless number of other brilliant jews. This is the only decent argument for anarchy. We ought to just tear everything down and start from scratch.

Ideas and philosophy multiply exponentially upon themselves, building blocks like LEGOs towards an ultimate good, or perhaps mucking up the process with overt confusion. I can’t create unless I immerse myself in new ideas and company, I get depressed when I’m not fulfilling some act of creation, when my body gets depressed it makes itself fall in love, when I’m hopelessly in love the only cure is art.

As it embraces everything, is doesn’t have to be picky, it has arms open wide to receive it all, but perhaps it CANNOT decide, and is just artistic nonsense. The ravings of madmen in the street at streetlight poles begin to make perfect sense to me.

If someone labels their memoirs ‘The Rantings of a Crazy Person’ chances are they are not a crazy person. If they label their memoirs ‘The New Gospel of the Reborn Jesus Christ as Told to me by my Housecat,” then they may be a pretty good candidate. But even I attribute animism to inanimate household objects, a silly childhood holdover. My class ring, like all class rings, for example, had a singular purpose in its life; to get itself lost. My toilet cannot flush without my approval. Whereas most people need only to pull the flush lever, I must be watching my toilet as it does this, nodding and smiling satisfactorily, beaming proudly as if no other toilet could fulfill this function as well as mine.

Delusional people (artists of reality), confuse their internal and external spaces, in some degree incapable of delineating between the two. Their dreamrealm is our realm, and they will as readily interact with a wall as they would with the policeman on the corner, and “sane” people like you or I would rather interact with neither. We tell ourselves that hard-line constancy is better than our mental illusions, a good use of our perceptional condition than being tricked. But we are all tricked on a daily basis, by our biased minds, our faulty eyes, and the society, fellow humans and world in which we live.


This is Rodin’s ‘The Thinker’ It raises many important and pivotal questions about art as we know it, ‘what is the thinker thinking of?’ ‘is the sitting position the best position for thinking?’ perhaps he’s thinking that ‘I could be thinking a whole lot better if I put on my damned thinking pants.’


This is Rodan. He thinks of nothing but destruction.

The artist is a clown, a poet, an imitator, a monkey, a philosopher, a sociologist, a socialist, a satirist, a fabricator, a creator, and first and foremost a liar.

Constructing his or her own reality for entertainment, aesthetic or philosophical purposes (and let’s not forget the payouts), is the honest intention of dishonesty what separates them from the camps of confidence-artists and the camps of schizophrenics?

A few more thoughts related to this subject, and then I must return to the comfort of my dreamtime, whose sophistry I know to be authentic and internally consistent:
Early cultures and shaman were much more responsive to the archetypical ‘stranger’ as a bringer of both dramatic good and evil foreboding. Regardless, his news was often accepted as gospel by the characters time and time again, even in those stories where the moral was that some trickster is playing with your worldview to ill ends. We love a good mystery, and solving it sometimes takes a backseat to never solving it. Some humans skip to the end of the enjoyable book to read the reveal first, others join major world religions. An old Native American belief was that ‘evil is the truth that is not meant to be known.’

And finally, this:
Does telling a fictional story make it more true than if it were never told at all?

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Heckler At Obama Speech to Congress: ‘You Lie!’

Day Five

The key players of the superteam are being contacted and assembled, a base of operations is being sought and priced from the rental guide, and we almost have a wicked sweet name to instill fear and awe into our foes. All the pieces of the plan are coming together, actually quite ahead of schedule. Which is bad. Because I carefully planned all of this shit using psychohistorical methodology and a slide ruler. This either means that I need to take a few days off and catch up on some other neglected projects, waste the time of some of the key players involved on busy work in order to get back on quantum quota, or send everyone but myself back in time about a week. But then there would be two of everybody and nobody around me. And I won’t get invited to anybody’s bangin’ dopplegänger parties…

Actually, I think I’ll just do what I always do in these situations. Get drunk and expect that everything will work out.

I found two lucky pennies today!

You may be asking yourself, (or me if you had any balls, which you don’t), “hey, why write all of this on your myspace page, if Mr. Mind is going to be able to see it? Fools! You don’t understand how radio works! Mr. Mind can (durdurdur) read minds, and since I have valuable knowledge involving the intricate and delicate timestream leading to his fiery hell-ish dominion, then I WANT to explain every one of my actions in painstaking detail. You may now be asking yourself, “B-whu?” Allow me to elucidate for some of the Tommy Turkeys in the room: Mr. Mind knows I wouldn’t be stupid enough to reveal my plans to such extent, but he also underestimates my every move. Therefore, if, he doesn’t expect me to do something that only I could be capable of doing knowing there’s no other way I wouldn’t do it, then it stands to reason that I have to do it. Understand now? If I’m revealing my plan on the internets, then they must be false informations. And if I’m willingly admitting that part of my plan is to plant such false informations on the internets in plain view, then it must really be the actual plan! Obviously, if its so clearly the actual plan, it can’t possibly be it, and should be disregarded.

Confused? Don’t worry. For all of you depending on me, be assured that everything I say on here is 100% true. Except for that. Or… was it? But seriously, it was. You can’t obviously believe that! How stupid are you? Where do you get off?

And my profile pic, (which the motaba seems to have rendered freakin’ impossible to remove), is actually growing on me. It brings me all sorts of joy and wonderment, just like videos of monkeys in tubes. It may be a subtle form of sick neurolinguistic programming designed to indoctrinate me into the Monster Society of Evil’s New World Obliteration (catchy, huh?), but my hatred for Mr. Mind hasn’t subdued at all. Even if I do like the new gif, and even if the motaba has doomed all attempted contact from SPAM profiles to horrendous unspeakable destruction, I still want to grind the pissant little insect under my size-eleven steel-toeds. When I think of all of the horrific ways in which I had to watch my friends and colleagues perish in the future nightmare world of– OOH! Lookit! A fox with his guts all splayed out on the road! That was a good one! Hahahahahahaha! I dint see that one afore! Hooee. Ah. aheh. What was I talking about?

I forgot to end-quotes somewhere a ways back. Well, better late than never.”

Oo-ee, gooey, rich and chewy

A cookies just a cookie but a Fig Newton’s… No! No! No, a Fig Newton is still a cookie, dammit! I won’t have any more of this absolutism running rampant in commercialism! If we can’t expect a fair amount of absurdity and doublespeak in the world of advertising…

…we’re doomed.