"What I'm dealing with is so vast and great that it can't be called the truth. It's above the truth." - Sun Ra

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Baron Munchausen Vas Dere!

Munchausen: We ran out of gas and oil, but I stayed high in ze air for six more months.
Announcer: Without fuel? That's against the law of gravity!
Munchausen: Well, zat was before dat law was passed.
This bit of cornball humor sums up the Divinorum Psychonauticus credo perfectly. When one forgets to be bound by what science considers possible one can can truly achieve anything. When one leaves the delusion of objectivity behind, when one surrenders to the impossibility of all but the subjective position, then one sees beyond science's roped off notions of infinity... the only catch is that what you think and write becomes fiction, tall tales, and therefore invalid as far as science is concerned.

Of course science must be lauded for working towards an objective reality that makes certain strides toward genuine progress inevitable... and those strides are needed, what's not needed is their smug disregard for the ravings of lunatics, for the insanity and magic of today is the scientific 'law' of tomorrow, but science is awfully dismissive of any information that didn't require the murder of at least 100 rabbits or chimps in lab conditions.

The sin of Adam and Eve, to this Munchausen way of theorizing, is't discovering objective knowledge but subjective freedom. The apple, the fruit of knowledge, is a peyote button and that's where God lives. The sin is in abandoning the garden for concrete structures; the sin is in creating electricity, monsters, and air conditioning, exhaust fumes and bio-engineered pain factories. But it's a stopgap sin of which God inevitably, begrudgingly approves. Civilization's gruesome steps are necessary for His dreamers to make the jump from dreams to physical space travel. Meanwhile, the shamen and space cadet musicians are hard at work making the box of tunes he can bring with him and blast all the way to Mars.

Of course he could just listen to the radio and stay home. The waves of the universe are crowded with radio stations SETI will never find, but are picked up daily by psychics, telepaths, and remote viewers, by schizophrenics and trippers, by shamen and the dying and the newly born, and by those in haunted houses, and near power lines... for civilization's incessant din and its narrow AM/FM bands is truly is the whistling in the dark, the white noise machine so reason can sleep in the madness-besieged zombie movie mall universe. In order to effect our own destiny we need to be able to hear ourselves think, and thus the invention of rock and roll and power amps, and death metal, and car crashes, bridges, skyscrapers and plutonium.

But ultimately these iron tools never bridge the fourth dimensional veil - only bone and soft tissue gets through, nothing metal, ala Terminator movies, but even then there are beings who have figured out how to transgress that, though none of them are yet from earth (outside of occasional black budget funding breakthroughs). The beings who can move in and out of time and space have long ago abandoned non-biologicl technology. As UFO wreckage recovery teams often nervously note, the material of the saucers seems alive, and indestructible, far beyond the concepts of animate and inanimate that we still cling to. That's the TRUE sin of Adam and Eve, for those aliens are us in the future, which is the same as the past once you master time travel, and that's why we can never capture bigfoot. He too is outside of our linear time and perception. In the radio analogy he would be like where you're listening to a radio station rock channel and suddenly some weird voice breaks in through a wall of static as you pass by a power line or something and you hear a mad preacher or a car salesman and then it's back to the song, as if nothing in the song's wholeness had ever been broken.

We can't find Bigfoot the way you can't find that voice again on the radio; it just blinks in and is gone. Like a wave particle in a Schrodinger Cathouse, it was almost never not there. Like Stephen Malkmus of Pavement, the bigfoot knows that between here and there is better than either here or there.

This is perhaps old Munchausen's secret. His stories take place before cumbersome laws like gravity and thermo-dynamics were 'passed.' In deliberately skewing his stories to a level where they can't possibly be believed he undoes the damage caused by science and its draconian dogma, freeing us from the prison of textbooks. While science fumbles in the dark for its car keys, all the while proclaiming there's plenty of light, Munchausen has already floated away on the currents of his own balderdash, blazing megawatt clouds of gaseous fury as he goes.

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