Fitzgerald said, “In the dark night of the soul it’s always three o’clock in the morning.” The witching hour. I am here, all alone with it. A fact, not a lament.
Buzzing, zinging around. Thinking of a recent Instapunk post…
I’m Changing my Spirit Animal.
I’m not even lonely. I am worried. Times when I fixate on two physical artifacts of my calling.
Blake defaced some of his own printing plates in frustration.
Da Vinci encrypted his own notebooks in defense against the Inquisition
I had my own reasons for choices I’ve made.
I am Doctor Dream.
I’ve had Inquisitions of my own to evade.
No, I’m not claiming to be Blake or Da Vinci. I am a revolutionary in my own time, a pioneer in both creative writing and the quantitative world of management consulting. The only official award I’ve ever received is in the latter avocation. Which is a good joke as far as I’m concerned.
As a ‘failed’ writer, I have created two complete religions, including their iconography and texts, a model of three-dimensional time to replace the one-dimensional vector version of consensus science, an imaginary literary movement and its catalyzing language called the Tung, a system description that describes the AI technology they used to write their greatest works, and an account of the scientific crusade that developed a graphic model of human consciousness overturning our definitions of IQ and an outline computer program that beats the Turing Test. I also drew an entire cartoon city filled with cartoon people representing the Ameria [sic] we were living in at the turn of the century. It was big enough to wander through for days, with 40+ subway stations, four television networks, a mall with 30 upscale shops, its own Internet, and ominously black twin towers full of bureaucrats.
I’m proud of my work as a consultant for senior executives of Fortune 10-100 manufacturing firms, which materially aided my work as a creative writer, of which I am much more proud.
Some things I know that have been door opening in both pursuits. Everything is connected. Everything. It’s all continuously interactive in ways most don’t realize because they have their own well defined ruts to hide in. (One Internet essayist I tried to interest in some of my ideas glanced at a couple of posts and dismissed my writing as ‘obtuse’. Why Joyce gave up writing after Finnegans Wake, no doubt.) There is no hard gap between the worlds of fanciful imagination and the quantitative scientific mind. They just have their own separate languages and petty biases. Why they stopped talking to each other decades ago.
These biases are important because they are obscuring something else I know. The greatest threat facing civilization is an increasing impairment of human consciousness. If we do not recognize the crisis and undertake the kind of education needed to recover the losses we’ve brought upon ourselves, there will be a dark age of enormous privation, physical suffering, and mortality.
There are things that can be done. I’ve done what I can, which is to create leave-behind documentation for children not yet born who will have to become great new generations of our species.
Why I’ve been content to do so much of my work without the notice or approval of the intelligentsia in charge. They couldn’t keep up with me if they wanted to.
By now, there is only one project that I’m willing to become more public about. The scattered attempts I’ve made to introduce it in electronic conversation have drawn zero response. And I do mean zero,
Look at the great dialogue we’ve been having here so far, QED.
Still, I have one tool almost no one has anymore…
All for now. It’s nearly dawn. Time for my nap.
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