the process of creativity

[*someone asked me to define creativity. i was impressed that such a question even came up. no, i did not have to do any soul searching to find an appropriate answer. what i did do, however, is begin writing. no, i’m not paying attention to any theme. actually, nevermind. read the below and see if you can find out for yourself what creativity is.*]

Why do cats like being washed is a question I ask myself every other night before I enter a pre-sleep stage of washing dishes, fixing up my hair, loosening up my morals and procrastinating my usual self into an illusion that things will get done. For a long time now, I wondered and marveled at the many questions that are before me, all staring me in the eye like blindfolded dogs at a fellow comrade’s funereal. Ideology is a dirty little world that is used by inner circle elites who think being part of an obnoxious social clique will get them cheap gas and cheaper prostitutes. I fan over the flames of passion with vodka and wash down any prospect of potentially stimulating intellectual retaliation with a pint of sincerity.

I don’t want to sound like a midwife who just delivered the child from hell. I mean can you imagine what it must be like to find out that your second husband crashed his lunar lander into a seafood factory? It must be awful to have to retell the story to your deaf relatives who are more interested in how to win over their high school sweetheart’s, by now atrophied, love. Creating manifestos is not an art for the generous. Yes, ideas are helpful when…

Where was I? Oh right. Cats. Can those animals ever escape captivity? Who cares if they have lawyers working in Egypt and Libya if they can’t find enough excuses to lift a few more pounds of excess debris from their conscious? I wonder if flowers can grow in space. A fully matured housefly can probably consume more protein in the summer than a house ant can on Sundays. Violence often, and sometimes does, breaks out when light is a commodity being manipulated by apologetic tycoons. Do you think that dust particles can read? I never thought of music to be so incredibly fast forward.

I just remembered why I’m writing. It has nothing to do with a purpose, a goal or any other teleological exercise imposed on my by some ridiculously short, bald and on some days, ugly academic. These people are so pathetic that even when I throw up from disgust I can’t feel pity. Wind instruments are rather dull and pragmatically speaking, do not interest me. So what if I sound like I just laid a “myopian” egg? Tell those highfalutin pompous viruses who sit atop a stool and whistle derogatory noise, as if someone cared enough to convince themselves that a discussion would actually make sense, to sit back and keep quiet – before I find myself compelled to offer them a fresh start. I want to take a break but I think my fingers are in control.

Don’t lie. You’re a zoo member and you like animals just as much as you like your milk.

Unevent

Masquerading behind a velvet curtain, my prognosis.
Instead of making a devious mistake, it’s potentially uncertain.

Without much reflection, complexion or observation,
Sanity from above, undresses calamity from reception.

Inside a bracket of fury, exponentionally harmless…
Revealed inside a box of corruption,

Assumption rears its head, as if raised on magic markers
Do you find me coherent, questions awkward?

While boisterous horseplay interrupts the action
Insanity, I find you quite handsome…

Minus the caption replies presumption!!
It must be true…we’re all beginning…

To sound like grain-fed animal rights without legal intimidation.

adding {non} to [sense]: a critical review

i have light experiments. you know very well what i’m talking about. illumination.

create a mental illusion that speaks to the above. concentrate on picking one hue in particular and stick to it. discover the caloric content of your mental state.

i don’t intend to confuse, or confound. i expect difference. colour. obsessing with difference. approaching radical ornaments of fake mental stimulation with the intent to exacerbate: division.

cultural blinders. propaganda. an infusion of spin. control. do you find it impossible to avoid assumption. it’s tough. surprisingly difficult.

continuing. exploding the colour wheel. gradients. fuchsia today, lime tomorrow, magenta for dinner. ideas. obnoxious antipathy. ambivolence. ambiguous. amour.

desire colour, paint culture.

Apotheosis

A return. Starstruck, engulfed, supra-orgasmic complex body structures. A mirage of unmet promises and flagrant nonchalant-isms. Ah, coy and overt perversions. Academia. Direction calls for descriptive. General. Broad overtly generalized mush, dedicated to pastoral leaders in mosh-pit societies.

Fascinating.

Pulled in by an internal desire to criticize, revisonistic ghosts fail to be exorcised. I return to a primordial understanding of knowledge. Beneath the exemplary facade falls, through the imperial cracks, history. Knowledge follows. A hollow void, cold, unmoved, eternally lifeless.

Suppress dexterity and replace immortality with gregarious charicature-type puppets. Exogenious.

I know, I don’t know. An interplay of isms and charismatic proposals. Efficacy trumped. They wanted me to ridicule deviant observers of devious foresight. Crass. Power-struggles and deficient based bulimia. Nuclear fetishes supressed by regional underground sloth, greed, and pragmatic alternatives. Jesus. Madness.

Short story, long story, 70s.

I reply, cowards.

Idle, Tidal and Fortuity

I fell back into darkness. No. This time there is no temporal distinction between what was in the past and what may have been the unfortunate circumstance of current affairs. Regardless. I am starting to overcome my weakness for sub-saharan marsupials. If not for my intransigence, I would have understood intelligence to be but a mirage of unment expectations, aspirations and broken dreams. People think you fuel fire with wood but they don’t understand thermodynamics. Oxygen is imperative. Incomplete sentences do not allow you to go to law school. Neither should incomplete thoughts. I am compelled to continue.

How does it feel to be suspended in an abstraction? Rather unconvincing. Pragmatism is more than an forethought. It builds cities and feeds generations. So on to the substance of this anithetical piece. Is irrational supposed to be met with rationalism? Sometimes. I don’t quite understand myself sometimes either. Why is it that certain things remain logical and cogent as if to refrain from stimulating my animalistic instinct, while others self invite themselves to a dinner part of cynical univariate mormons? Such is a human’s way of carrying his or her burden. It starts with irrational, becomes rational and some times without any previous notice it turns into impossible. Take any normative load for example. Why do you find it worth your while to accept it? Why do you subscribe and entertain empty methodologies when in essence they are mere means and their ends are constant throughout? Why? I have no answers.

I have questions. Do you believe a “social contract” means anything for example? Do you really believe in contracts as being legally binding and legally enforceable? Rubbish. Personal interests are protected as long as the two negotiating parties coincide in terms of the derived benefit that is to be the outcome of such dynamics. Why enter into a contract if not for that particular purpose. All things have an expirty date. Contracts have them, human life is bound to end and to skip through the filler and reach my conclusion…so do human relationships. Myths however do find the time to occupy our human minds for extended periods. Who am I to judge? Leave it open. I did. Next time someone decides to subject me to a social contract or a relationship whereby only bilateral agreements may dismiss the very foundation on which that relationship was built, spare me the ensuing debacle and send me straight to an insane asylum. I don’t carry a noose on my neck by choice and why should you be the one responsible for not only adding it, but tightening too. In the name of what? Social dynamics and human relationships are so frail, fragile and precarious that it makes no sense investing or in layman’s terms betting all your chips on one hand. Unless you’re willing to bluff. And then, again, you may get caught sooner or later.

I’m exhausted from imperialist and colonialist advocacy. West wants South. West wants East. West wants North. What else is new? What happened to laissez-faire and bottom-up ideology? Colonialism did not end, it is being reasserted. This time our justification is human-rights legislation and jus-cogens concepts of human equity, equality and pro-life fairness. Let’s be serious. I’m mad. And you’re sane. Castles, sand and sunshine are irrelevant.

A Letter to the Board

Dear Life,

Cruelty. Why must such element of forward looking anxiety and retrospective torture must be so onerous. I cannot be a victim any longer. I cannot bear the consequences of such uncertainty. If chaos is unacceptable, and risk aversion an anomaly, I can only begin to contemplate the more rational division between the desired outcomes and those opposite such manifestation, randomness. To call for help would be an absurdity. An answer allocated to bringing back logic would fail. In light of facetiousness and tongue-in-cheek rhetoric, power stands to corrupt absolutely.

Of course. I am the one complaining. Tyranny is both absolute and arbitrary. Guesswork and guesstimating is incredibly fruitful in circumstances of fortuitous indifference. Let’s not prevent what was never to begin with, preventable. I’m curious, however, as to why some find it necessary to confine rationality with a method akin to circumscribing cattle in a barn. Animal rights are one thing. Human rights are another. Same ends, same means. What is so unusual about equating the two on equal planes. Anachronistic and antiquities concepts of slavery, while prima facie innocuous, when further unpacked, contextualize in a highly noxious and particularly degrading corollary.

Some get it, others don’t. Last night I ate some Tofu that must have contained an “upset stomach” ingredient. Protein intake aside, the run was fantastic. Forty-five minutes of relentless passion. Exotica. Tonight, encore. Subliminal afterthoughts flood my cranium. I’m left with a surge of red blood cells, bottlenecking my comprehension of space-perception alongside my other neurotic condition, inter alia, insanity. I’m mad.

I leave you with no more than this. I ask you no more than this. I expect a response that will be, again, no more than this. Why?

Signed,

An unhappy customer

quasi-cogent thoughts

Given the time that I am writing this piece at, it should be by now obvious, that I cannot sleep. Something knocks, and that is thought. I cannot simply make a mental note and ask for this thought to return tomorrow, or on another day and on another occasion, when I could be more bothered. Such is not the way thought likes to be treated. Priorities aside, I continue.

Why, the question arises. A general “Why.” But not entirely without purpose. I am left hanging, no, stalling for an answer I cannot provide. Hrm. Panic? No.

Chaos. Why is it that there is so much chaos? Why is randomness chaos? It doesn’t have to be. For some it will always result in a manifested disappointment, for others it will exacerbate the joy of being alive. Or is it that simple. There are decisions that you make everyday, sometimes automatically, and sometimes with very little thought or precision of analysis. Other decisions, albeit more rare, require a greater degree of risk to be incurred, and leave one pondering for longer. It is in this latter dimension that the element of the “instinct” is introduced. Why does this intervener, this instinct, collectively assume the responsibility for throwing a “red flag,” or in other words cautioning you to “negative” a particular decision that may be before you? Is it that all your faculties have all of a sudden decided to function, and function all at once? I use all much too often in that preceding sentence. Regardless, there is a perverse oddity I wish to point out. My instinct has never failed me. At times when it fails to appear or make its presence felt, it could be implied or inferred or both, that it perhaps has given the green light. As it does not appear on certain occasions, I cannot conclude beyond a reasonable doubt that such is the case. However, when instinct is part of the equation, the success rate is near perfect. I wish to cite Socrates, as given to us by Plato, but I am afraid I do not know where the book containing the pertaining passages is. Moving along.

This is not simply a dialogue with myself. I ask that you engage in the thought process, r if anything, at least try to ask yourself why what I just mentioned is so. For my own short answer, I give the following as evidence, although incredibly inconclusive, I have to try, for if I do not try, I would give cowardice a chance.

Throughout life there is a tendency to apply various fictions, as presented to us by our “teachers” and “educated elders,” in such a way as to restrict our own understanding of what life may be or how it may be lived. I will not even try to uncover societal implications. Isolating one variable is an already Herculean and terribly difficult task.

One such anachronistic or archaic fiction is the “accentuating of the positive” phenomenon. Daily is a myriad of randomness. Events and their consequences, as far as we are aware, arrive and leave our presence on an almost subconscious level. We see what we want to see, but that is not of importance here, as we are working within the framework of what is seen and observed, in other words custom tailored to our own filter settings.

I would be lying if I was to assert that I follow the above on a daily basis, religiously. Do people actually mean it when they say that they are optimists? When the whole world assumes someone is a cynical pessimist, do we believe “the world?”

Given that, the randomness of life is ever present and a reality to all of us, how can such an ill suited framework be workable. It is not. Each individual decision one makes is made inside their own personal framework, as defined by their own logical reasoning and experience. These decisions are made on an ad hoc basis. I’m not stretching your imagination, I’m just asserting what I observe. To make a decision is to balance or make, sometimes subconsciously or automatically, an assessment of the probable benefits and risks vis-à-vis what factual or background evidence you may have (i.e. what you know, or may infer). To say that you apply a broad or general definition or oversimplification is nonsense, a complete lie.

I am tempted to mention one more thing. “The reflection of the will back into itself.” While I know that such paraphrasing is Hegelian, and that while he may not have been the first to discuss it, he certainly elaborated on it in fascinating ways, I make it official, that I personally discounted this thinker’s logic on many occasions. The reflection of this will, your will, back into yourself is much like you standing in front of a mirror, looking at yourself and what you are wearing and being self-critical of the image you put on display for “the world” to see. It allows for reflection. I know that is an unintended pun.

But why all of this logical blah blah blah. There is reason to the madness. There is reason to the chaos. Although randomness would naturally be chaotic, paradoxically it isn’t. The ability to reflect one’s own will back into or onto itself (depends on how you conceptualize the activity), provides continuity.

By this point, you can probably tell that I’m tired. I am. The above is not complete and I don’t intend to complete it now. I will…later.

Some food for thought.

City Scavenger

Walking home from the gym today I encountered the holiest of the holiest sights a human being can be a witness to. Now before I go on, I want to remove all possible doubt that I may not be an “animal sympathizer.” I am. But in this case, there is a line, and I’m willing to draw it.

Raccoons. Apparently the pregnant mother roaming the streets surrounding my establishment gave birth. Oh and what a birth it was. Spectacular would almost refuse to accept the true marvel behind this event. Six young’ins. Oh yes. Considering their growth rate, there simply isn’t enough garbage to keep these evil spirits fed, and fed well.

I can deal with immigrant marsupials, but not with homegrown raccoons. These animals are the kingpins of garbage. Literally, they traffic in garbage; consider it the narcotic of the street. A raccoon has reached such a pronounced level of efficiency, that the competition has been relegated to substandard living conditions. Welfare recipients they have become indeed.

Social safety nets aside, I never felt a stronger desire to have a car pass or drive by and somehow, by some accidental miracle, obliterate at least two baby raccoons. The mother looked old and frail, who knows, maybe giving birth was a pain after all. Why two? Why not four, or for that matter, all of them. It all comes down to mechanics. More particularly, a vehicle only has two linear or vector paths of travel. Front wheels go over two, while the back wheels finish off. Given that two is the optimized choice, we can’t ask for more; in fact, we can only hope zero is not the outcome.

Regardless of the aforementioned, zero was the outcome. Verdict? No car drove by. But that was just one scenario, who knows what might happen tomorrow.

By now you must be raging. Animal rights. Right.

Well…Wrong! If you find animals so cute, you should probably let the rats in your basement breed (and they breed like rabbits, awkwardly). Rats are animals, so rats are cute. We can’t discriminate in application; an animal is an animal. Just because a “bigger” animal takes up a bigger volume of space, or you happen to, by coincidence, find their fluffy nature ever so endearing, it does not mean that they are pets of a nuisance free type.

Oh boy. Garbage. As I was saying. Imagine you put the garbage away at night. Now imagine how it is to walk outside in the morning and find yourself a victim of the “Raccoon Garbage Stealth Attack Team” or RGSAT. Efficacy. Opulence. These beings lavish in epicurean delights. The children of “subsidized countries” only find themselves eating such delights in wild extravagant dreams. When will it stop. The hormones we pump in our food, ultimately finds its way to the “city-raccoon.”

This is a pandemic. Epidemic.

Something needs to be done, and I don’t see the end of garbage any time soon. The end of raccoons is also not about to be aggravated to such an extent that the endangered species list would need to be invoked. However, thank god for blogs and meaningless ramblings. Symbol manipulation.

Animal rights. Let’s be honest.

P.s. the point of this piece was to stir up some controversy and as such is controversy’s nature, invite comments and feedback. Speak your mind

*S/He may look innocent. But. Don’t forget, either she’s pregnant or he’s a wild raccoon. Or maybe the background is just propaganda. Photoshop also works. Either way, you get the *PICTURE:* they’re EVIL!!

A colon and its essential component: the point.

Can you imagine what happened when “a dot” stepped onto the confines of a deliminated public space, or park and found itself empty, single, frustrated and above all vulnerable to unstable volatility? Now what do you think happened when a second dot joined the formation? Was it by some random event and possibly chance that the two candidates for world peace established such a harmonious relationship that it eventually became a justified ground for a nobel prize nomination? Possible. Likely would lead to many confusions and misinterpretations. We’re talking about a colon here after all, and what harm could a colon do.

Although two equidistant parts are fixed in space, neither in conflict, nor in utopian harmony but in complete nothingness, were so perfectly aligned that it led to me writing this entry, the act of me pointing it out does not do it justice. A further, more elaborate account as to why this may be needs to be further enquired into.

Is this all just logical blah blah blah? Nonsense.

Initially I questioned the positioning of the two components of elements making up this relationship that we have established to be called a “colon.” Hierarchy aside, there is a slight chance that the dot above may arguably exercise some arbitrary or absolute, if not de jure then at least de facto control over its lesser and more frivolous sibling, the bottom imperfection or lack thereof for that matter. I can’t say, with all certainty, that potential inferrence will cause for much indecisiveness on my part; Dot one and dot two are involuntarily distinguishable, but at the same time, equal and fulfilling the same function: a colon.

This is not a practical discussion, and I’m not a pragmatist. Fury is my main objective. Can the reader attend to a more confused display of mental diarrhea? It’s likely. Can the reader play second fiddle to an interpretation that only the mentally insane can ever become pregnant with? Unlikely; impossible.

My point is as follows. I don’t have a point. Why are you reading this? Exactly, my point exactly. So while I don’t have a point at first, or prima facie, I do have a point after all. You may think this is useless and come to the conclusion that while it is useless, it also does not have a point, but what’s your point? Did you have a point in mind when you first “arrived” upon this wonderful and brilliant display of reckless linguistics? I didn’t think so. So why gain with no loss? Makes sense only to the nonsensical. I end.

*I have been deeply immersed in legal cases and the very theories driving the argument behind why they should compel individuals to obey or disobey. On this topic another time: I do have some points to make, but … as I said, making a point and not making a point is subjective. Depends who you talk to, why you talk to them, and what they have in mind when talking to you. Making points is like drawing dots, you don’t have to draw a dot, you can just draw a colon, two dots, and make more than one point. But then what’s my point? The aforementioned does not make any sense. My point exactly.

May you be victorious.

defected in the market: consumers asleep (ignoring ignorance)

Hmm. Humans. Highly hypocritical multi-cellular organisms. If you want to experience what being a human is like, just think of how it might feel to be hit over the head with a wet newspaper. The initial response may be adequately justified by your intrinsic and natural propensity to feel scared. Defense. As you subsequently notice, the experience isn’t as traumatic as it may have appeared to be at first. Getting hit in the head with a wet newspaper is a very melodramatic experience leaving the victim drenched in stale water, feeling slightly confused as to why this is happening in the first place. Well, so much for an introduction.

I found the above to be interesting enough to use as a segway into the continuation of the topics previously left undiscussed (in detail). Lawyers, and corporate/capitalistic consumption.

I’m going to attack the first, if not like a hungry dog picking at a three-week old bone, but like an overfed persian cat purring with satisfaction after noticing her territory has been invaded by toxic vermin, mice. Lawyers, yes, they’re everwhere, and for some unorthodox reason, some of us just can’t stand it. But what is that that we can’t stand? Is it possibly that some of them (not all) make truckloads of cash, that they are aware of the system and because of such are aware of how to subsequently manipulate it? It could be. The legal system is complex, yes, no doubt it is: to a person not fully aware of it. Laws are passed down from government, an elected body representative of the populace at large (justified by open and free elections). Those born to a particular system, as for example in Dubai or Sierra Leone, or Perth, Australia, are constrained by the extent to which the framing of the legal system has been designed to either encourage or discourage certain public and private behaviour. We elect, restrain. Without even attempting to attack the lawyer dilemma, it should first be mentioned that it is our first and foremost duty to be aware of the available statuatory law in our presiding constituency (i.e. country) – why bother living in a democracy, a fascist totalitarian regime, of right wing extremes would suffice your needs just as well, if not better.

Lawyers know the law, and how much money they make has to do with how much they know, a correlation, but not absolute. Instead of being dragged in infamy, they should be celebrated as protectors of democratic rights. I’m being abstract. The purpose of my rant is not merely abstract though. I am absolutely mind boggled at how many common day consumers pass through the market blindfoled, being picked on my large business and bullied into entering agreements they themselves have little knowledge of what they may entail. To further exacerbate the problems, consumers shy away at the idea of “corporate discipline.” Not punishment by force, but at a grassroot level, punishment by a whole host of other selective behaviour designed to indirectly affect the aggressors. It seems that growing teeth has become taboo in common society, that being bland, sheepish and subservient to big business, is acceptable and broadly (and handsomly) rewarded.

Government and legal institutions are on a broad basis, enable certain behaviour. When we say law is enabling, we’re only including half the picture. The other half is that it’s also disabling: that what it enables is a selective process, driven many times by statuatory regulations and are generally driven to tweak the market in order to achieve greater efficiency. What I sense, though, is a tendency towards making big business the winner, and the consumer (or the environment) the loser. Big business takes in the profits, consumers are mere means to ends, objects in and of themselves unable to break free from the grasp of problems.

Yes, we live in a capitalist system, understood. Yes, governments are going to promote the perpetuation of the aforementioned and disregard, or shove under the rug, the potential disaster hiding in the closet. What used to be the feudal lord, further the sovereign king and now the veil of democracy against which a plethora of monarchial business lords and their oligarch cousins reign supreme. Nothing new, right, nothing new.

The latest “media blowjob,” Paris Hilton, has already dumbed down this country/continent to a level of inconceived ignorance (the new credit) and dangerous insecurity leading to instability, volatility and mass hysteria. Business, legitimated by a pseudo-democratic process, is the new tyrant; but everyone seems to like it, if not loathe it (in which case, for king and country). Media and propaganda aside, it is only after the consumer understands his role and position in the market, their rights and the ways in which those can be enforced, notwithstanding demands made on the legal system to modify, include or extend potential deficiencies, that big business can attract a more ethical and moral approach to their current hoarding.

Regulation at the universal institutional level may work, but, when the government is pro business, it isn’t trivial. What furthers the problem is that the government has a duty and a responsibility towards the saftety and economic well being of its citizens, without mentioning basic human rights conditions. So then, how compelled is the government to disable some of its pro business enabling statutes and laws, or perhaps, the question is more applicable if one asks if the government should even attempt to deviate from this critical role.

More on that next time.