Keep your head up, Shawn. Mr Falk went way over the line in his criticism of your criticism. You have been courageous enough to openly consider both positive and negative aspects of I-I, and to some extent Wilber. And I have noticed that you have linked/copied a couple of the comments I've made, as well as others, to add to your ongoing analysis. All of which shows that you are giving honest reflection to Wilber the man, Wilber the writer, and Wilber the president. It is a complicated picture, eh?

I do think, if I may say so, that it is a welcome development to see Falk's no-holds-barred style. It is a style that can offer as much truth and reflection as any other style. Your style, as you say as one with compassion and respect, is certainly fine as well. Both, as well as many more, have a place at the table. Not everyone digs Falk's style, seen in many other writers, such as Andrew Sullivan, Camille Paglia, Jonah Goldberg, and Christina Hoff Summers. As a fan of energetic debate, I generally relish it, and get a lot of truth when skillfully handled.

Whether Falk is accurate or not on each of his criticisms, I think time has yet to show. His points seem right on enough to merit continued consideration. Subtley, I think you indicated in your original post that you agree on that count. And while there are many ripe and useful points that Falk makes, his demonstration of Wilber's relationship with David Bohm is very revealing. I've only read the Wilber chapter of Stripping the Gurus; as far as that chapter goes, I find it to be generally accurate and helpful.

And having been around Wilber worshippers since 2001, and the way they respond to criticism and sarcasm, I know that Falk's work might as well be lemon juice in their paper cuts. Fine points, the real meat, flies right over their head, and they concentrate on tone and sarcasm.

One thing we have to consider, as we absorb the larger merit of Wilber's work, is that his books have largely been published by new age publishers. Shambhala, while largely Buddhist, has been a haven for new age writers and new age thought. The New Age genre of thought has been, to put it mildly, a mix-bag when it comes to sustainable truths.

Here is my point: the editors of new age publishing houses are not going to be the kind of folks who can accurately fact-check and give heavy editing to books such as Wilber's, heavy in philsophic content that endeavors to include many human specialties.

And I think there is the attitude of 'just get it out there and if it's wrong, we'll fix it later' with Wilber, because there were whiffs of that attitude all the time in my 16 months with IU. As another example, at the second IS of Art meeting, where Wilber appeared, he offered the advice that the only way to learn is to "fuck up in public".

As I say in nearly every public mention of Wilber, he offers many brilliant ideas. But, as Falk, Meyerhoff, and others are slowly demonstrating, Wilber's work also is rife with a lot of fucking up in public, when it comes to ideas and debates in various thought circles that he seeks to integral but often mistreats and manhandles. 'Orienting generalizations' has become a rhetorical tool synonomous with cop-out.

And as to Sri Ebu's presumption to not be presumptuous, I have given the long story of why I resigned only to friends and family. I have tried to mostly keep the long story private, because, ultimately, the best revenge is a good life --- advice straight from Hannah that I try to remember in the fleeting moments when I want to scream about how things happened between me and Mr. Clean.

But, when asked by those close to me and those I have developed a level of trust with, I have told the story. This includes Dashh, because he worked some on IU-Art, and I thought the story would be useful to him as he considered whether or not to get more involved with II. It is too long for a comment section like this, and because you, Sri E, don't know me other than my words, you will likely misinterpret until the wolves howl down the moon. I say that because of your already demonstrated misinterpretation that you have aggressively made public.

But I will say this, for what it is worth. I never once in any way shape or form, during my time as the Director of IU Art, wrote or said something to Wilber or about Wilber that was mean, disrespectful, or even the slightest way venemous. The vitriol, as I have publically indicated, was in no way a two-way street; it entirely came from him, towards me (and my wife, for god's sake, after she decided to pull a video donation to INaked, which, as anyone in the film biz knows, is entirely within one's rights, especially since no contracts had been developed or signed, and we had the integrity of our larger film project to protect).

One month before I resigned, after the two-hour me-him review of an initial version of my integral art manifesto, used in the Indiana University Intro to Integral graduate course (and now called "The Artist's Mind"), Wilber wrote me a short email that said "you are going to be a great iu art host". (host was the in-house term that is now 'director'). Up to that time, I never received nearly that kind of compliment from him, and it meant quite a bit. Why wouldn't it, ya know?

Yet the subsequent weeks of my IU tenure (which included Hannah's pull of the video donation) got pretty nasty, in terms of his communications to me, and so for that reason, as well as a couple other big ones simmering over the course of many months, I decided to leave.

There wasn't a single person in my circle of family, friends, or advisors, who suggested that I stay longer than I did. Not one. Most indicated utter dismay at the callous, pretentious, condescending, insensitive, mean, and ungrateful manner that he dealt with me and Hannah. I worked for free for 18 months, orchestated the game plan for how to develop the Art College (along with some input by Matt Rentschler, Erik Fabian, James Wagner, and Dana Tanner), wrote over 250 pages of scholarship about integral art, contributed ideas and suggestions via conference calls and emails my entire stay, helped birth (along with two others) the first and only actual integral art seminar geared towards integral artists, recruited and courted many people still involved with IU.II, and demonstrated a fuck-load of patience for the development of an endeavor, namely IU, that was clearly being retarded by one man and one man alone, namely Wilber, and his awful mgmt style, and stubborn refusal to delegate. Several friends/advisors f mine predicted that his behavior and management style fortells doom for any sustainable organization that has his name on it. And those familiar with integral theory came to the unanimous conclusion: how unintegral of Wilber.

What I went through is sadly something that, while particular to me in the details, is common place for people who have been in Wilber's inner circle, over the years. Many of the people who attended the initial version of I-I (there have been a couple versions) have cut ties. Every I-I vet (current as well as past) that I've talked to responded to my story with deep understanding as to why I resigned, tacit aknowledgement that Wilber the man has deep and unusual problems, and stories of people before me who experienced a similiarly distasteful glimpse of the real Wilber. As for the longer story of my time in the inner circle of the so-called world's foremost philosopher, I guess wait for my memoirs. :)

Oh, by the way, I thought you might like this juicy detail of "Tales of Integral Institute Past':

You know David Deida's infamous 'Ken Wilber is a Fraud' essay? Contrary to its current image, it was real. Deida meant every word, visciously; he and Wilber had a very public flame war, and decided to never talk to each other again; Wilber was livid when it was published; only the patient mediation of a long-time friend of both slowly brought them back to a professional, working relationship. At the time, others part of the flame war thought they'd certainly never talk again.

And for why their INaked discussion of the matter papered over the actual circumstances of their feud, in the name of their preposterous 'masculine love' -- a handy invention -- well, it comes down to marketing. Probably for the same reasons Wilber has most of his relationships -- so that Wilber, and Wilber's work (as well as Deida's in this case), gains more public exposure. It was in the best professional interests of both of these cats to publically be friends. It makes for a more acceptable public story.

A lot of people decide, in rather cold-blooded fashion, to simply tolerate Wilber and his extreme personality/behavior towards others. Some like me learn the truth and then leave. Some leave and then slowly ease back, at an arm's length distance, but still in some sort of proximity and association. It comes down to socio-cultural power, and the perception people have that Wilber possesses it. Association with power figures begets the perception of power in those that associate with it.

The unfortunate aspect of this perceived power is that is it based in too large a measure on shoddy scholarship, public propaganda and straw men (mean green meme, postmodernists, others), an accuring skill in public relations, a culture of cultish followers who are generally quite intelligent, but who mostly don't verify Wilber's interpretation of primary sources (an arduous task), and a skillful leverage of the desire some people have to participate in some kind of social revolution, especially when they have money to spend on things like subscriptions and seminars. Wilber knows the BoBo class well. Boulder/Denver is one of the world's capitals for the BoBo lifestyle.

Hello All!

Chicago is in the midst of a wicked heat wave, and as I write this I sit near the oscillating fan I picked up at Target yesterday. After assembling it, I was feeling quite handy and put together Bean's swing (an aquatic theme...so maybe she'll follow in her Aunt Maggie's footsteps and want to become a marine biologist at some point?), and also her high chair. The directions for that were in German, so I was very thankful for the pictures! Her things are steadily taking over the apartment...

We had another midwife appointment today. All is well. Bean is head down, and she's moving down...gettin' ready for the home stretch! My due date is less than 4 weeks away, which is crazy to think of! Bean's heartbeat was loud and strong, too. I love being able to hear it on the doppler during our visits. We had a nice chat with Martha about all sorts of things, and I was reminded how lucky we are to be in her care.

And reminding myself that we are lucky is important...especially of late! As most of you probably already know, Matt tripped on some uneven pavement while jogging a couple of weeks ago. After some drama (being called back to the emergency room after they had told us it was just a severe sprain, and then a trip to the orthopedist), it was finally determined that he has TWO fractures in his left ankle AND two fractures in his left wrist.

So, now, suddenly I find myself the more mobile of the two of us! We make quite the pair; the weeble and the gimp. We got the bill for Matt's emergency room visit today, and between that and my own experience with lack of insurance, I have become motivated to start really bugging our elected officials about the health care issues that this country faces. Which, I am sure we are all aware of...

The other day, I was feeling particularly overwhelmed and had taken quite the comfortable perch up on my self-pity stool when my Dad reassured me that these are bumps on the road and that he is fully confident that Matt and I are smart and resourceful and have a supportive family and we will make it through...to which I responded that I wish someone would repave this durn bumpy road, or least give me the name of a good asphalt vendor and I'll do it myself!!

Anyways, enough of my soap-box rant! Bean will be here soon, and I sure am getting excited to meet her! Matt and I have been enjoying our childbirth class too. We watched a video of a really great birth last time; the couple was really working together and were very excited. BUT, they kept cutting away to the clock, so we knew time was passing and every time the new dad was shown, he was chewing gum, and I got so distracted wondering if that was the SAME piece of gum the WHOLE time?! Eeeew.

I hope everyone is well, and keeping cool! Keep your fingers crossed for some rain in the part of the world; the farmers sure could use it. Bean just punched her Mom, so I think that means she says 'hi' too!

Love,
Hannah

p.s. Okay, the name thing...inquiring minds want to know, I know. We have a top three finals list, and we won't pick one (or reveal it) until we meet her face to face and know. Although, I must confess, I was excited about getting this far, and I told the girl behind the counter at Starbucks the other day, despite the gag order Matt and I have put each other under. Matt: forgive me!!! I needed to tell SOMEone!

p.p.s. I also want to welcome my new step-niece to the world as of two or so weeks ago; Welcome Lily!

We see the nature of the enemy in terrorists who exploded car bombs along a busy shopping street in Baghdad — including one outside a mosque. We see the nature of the enemy in terrorists who sent a suicide bomber to a teaching hospital in Mosul. And we see the nature of the enemy in terrorists who behead civilian hostages and broadcast their atrocities for the world to see.

These are savage acts of violence — but they have not brought the terrorists any closer to achieving their strategic objectives. The terrorists — both foreign and Iraqi — failed to stop the transfer of sovereignty. They failed to break our Coalition and force a mass withdrawal by our allies. They failed to incite an Iraqi civil war. They failed to prevent free elections. They failed to stop the formation of a democratic Iraqi government that represents all of Iraq’s diverse population. And they failed to stop Iraqis from signing up in large numbers with the police forces and the army to defend their new democracy.

The lesson of this experience is clear: The terrorists can kill the innocent — but they cannot stop the advance of freedom. The only way our enemies can succeed is if we forget the lessons of September 11 … if we abandon the Iraqi people to men like Zarqawi … and if we yield the future of the Middle East to men like Bin Laden. For the sake of our Nation’s security, this will not happen on my watch.

The art wars erupted at the apex and throughout the waning days of what is widely referred to as the postmodern era. Postmoderism is a spinoff from deconstruction, a set of theories that dominated humanities scholarship throughout the eighties and nineties. Deconstruction posits that truth and objectivity are impossible and that our traditional understanding of knowledge is naive. According to this way of thinking, what we believe to be true -- about past events and historical figures long considered significant, or about the merit of treasured artistic and literary works -- is actually a propagandistic illusion perpetuated by the powerful. Postmodernists would argue that Leonardo da Vinci's place in the history of art is less a result of qualitative judgmennt than of Eurocentric influence, both now and in the past. In this view, the best art and the most useful scholarship should eschew the search for eternal truths to engage instead in an ongoing struggle for power.

The art wars have essentially benn public protests against the effect of these postmodern ideas on art institutions. Postmodernism was accompanied by a culture of intolerance which took root inside and eventually engulfed many of the art world's most central institutions. It is a prejudice that has operated in reverse of the established stereotype, favoring the so-called 'cutting-edge' over the traditional, preferring political art at the expense of painting. In art funding agencies, museums, collage art history departments, and even in artists' studios, this bias has placed narrow limits on what type of art it has been acceptable to fund, to exhibit, to study, and to make. Artists and art historians whose work is not sufficiently preoccupied with power or with any of the other designated concerns of postmodern theory have gone unrecognized.

For the past few nights the moon has appeared larger than many people have seen it for almost 20 years. It is the world's largest optical illusion, and one of its most enduring mysteries.

It can put a man in space, land a probe on Mars, but Nasa can't explain why the moon appears bigger when it's on the horizon than when it's high in the night sky.

The mystery of the Moon Illusion, witnessed by millions of people this week, has puzzled great thinkers for centuries. There have even been books devoted to the matter.

Not since June 1987 has the moon been this low in the sky, accentuating the illusion even further.

But opinion differs on why there is such an apparent discrepancy in size between a moon on the horizon and one in the distant sky.

snippet

scene: the car, some road, green green green. 2 fellas listen to Joni Mitchell 'Miles of Ailes.'

him: who is this?

me: joni mitchell

pause

him: see, this is what i'm talking about... the world is full of girls that do this thing and sing better lyrics than this.

me: (silence)

him: she used to front a band right?

me: no.

him: (pause) Oh right... i'm thinking of Sheryl Crowe.

sidenote: Sheryl Crowe didn't *usedtofrontaband* either

curtain

In my thankfully limited experience with observing addiction it has always seemed to me that the true "gateway drug" is not marijuana, or even California Coolers, but lying. First comes the nervous exaggeration, then the covering-up of various misdemeanors... and by the time those lies start sounding true, the main barrier to destructive behavior is access to the poison itself.

Well, the Supreme Court just gave the Drug War addicts in Congress and the White House the constitutional equivalent of a lifetime supply. No longer will the Commerce Clause present even a tiny weak spot on the dragon of national drug policy. As Drug Czar John Walters all but giggled Monday, "Today's decision marks the end of medical marijuana as a political issue."

Those who fret about morality in America, take note: Raich v. Gonzales codifies our status as a Nation of Liars.

For those interested, a description of my entire contemplative practice is described in an essay called “Attention, Love, Music, and Witness”, which you can read on my website if you follow the yellow brick road to this link:

www.matthewdallman.com/mymeditation.html

In it, I describe a three-part experiment that adds tone yoga/vocalization and who am I inquiry to bare witness-style experiment I touch on above. It bears note that Tone Yoga is sometimes my entire practice (these things rightly shift, since we the people ain’t robots). It is a form of predominantly non-silent meditation and tonal contemplation that still offers real cultivation of witness intelligence. There are introductory essays about tone yoga on my site, as well.

The above phonetic sequential explication - the 1% rule - is meant as a simple guide for a buddy who was having trouble in the generation of an internal goose to sit and meditate for, from the sounds of it, even .0001% of his waking life. The implication that even 8 or so minutes a day of silent meditation is better than zero minutes is an entirely sound one. Here as with all interiors experiments, ought it not be verified by people who have explored its daily performance and potential resonance? Or is this the one exception?

All rules are made to be broken. And a stitch in time saves nine, in case you haven’t heard. Those familier with the publishing/moveable type world know that a ‘rule’ is another word for a printed line of any length or width on the page. The fascinating implication: Human-constructed rules are just the lines we draw on mystery’s canvas. Anyone who suggests that rules cannot be first honored, and then if need be, erased and redrawn to suit one’s mutable embrace of the “internal ???” - or who interpret the use of ‘rule’, per se, in this particular instance, as something besides an edge-appropriate suggestion between like-minded kosmic cats - ought spend the foreseeable future in an attempt to suck their humble pie through a cocktail straw.

It is notable to realize that the ascendant/descendant polarity is deeply rooted in mythic/literal worldviews that ascribe spatial directionality to good/bad, salvation/damnation, transcendance/enmeshment, and white/black light/poop. I think people supposedly of a worldview two or three hence such literalist codes ought entirely dismiss such directionality as so much yesterday’s besoiled underwear. It is outmoded, warmed over, historical dialectic and it, at the rubber-meets-road cusp of contemporary experiments into a deeper consciousness, is demonstrably absurd. Ought we wake up each morning and ask ourselves, ‘gee, should I have an ascending day, today?’

Of course not, and nor ought the question be about descending, either. The real issues - besides stuff like getting to work, making your calls, paying your bills, being a present listener/expresser with friends and family, a cooking up a delicious feast on the dinner table as well as under the sheets - ’service’ if you need such a term - are a totality of attentive awareness and one’s tender edges of stability’n'fear. On those counts, we ought not manipulate moldy concepts of ascendant/descendant duality like swords, but instead seek, consider, and perform experiments that tap into our capacities to cultivate both distance-based total vision/expanse as well as tactile-based embrace of form, fear, and person-to-person resonance. It is towards those edges that meditation, as important as it might be, is mere trinket.

Artists, who operate at the cusp of the familiar and unknown, feel the interior dynamic of “wax and wane” as newborns suckling mother’s milk. If my man at the wheel Paul, being a legitmate artist, has indeed been able to silently meditate for a couple years, then I see no problem whatsoever with a 1% rule for the time being, maybe as a guide for the next couple moons. If the motivation for silent meditation has waned, then there is some dynamic that, if follows, ought to begin or continue to wax. The goal is not balance, but instead sustainable yeast. My guess is that Paul may very well be pregnant with something fucking creative. I think I’ve known him long enough - over two years now - to say that without fear of unsolicited pretension. But of course untempered suggestions always risk watered down absolutism, doesn’t it.

I usually find my desire to silently meditate severely decreases when I, a composer, am on the verge of a new composition or section of a composition. Intuition, and the need for expression of its reflections, does not work according to rules, percentages, or mental constructs like sequential time and its ‘minutes of meditation’. Any implication that my 1% rule isn’t a flexible line is not the intention reflected from my end. But there are always perceptual filters.

All ought know that the more discreet current behind my 1% rule is that one ought devote only enough time to any specific experiment so as to have a unique felt-experience within its operative dynamic. We are looking for the experimential wisdom of state changes, after all, and the advantages of repeated immersion over many years. For me, experience often emerges after about 5-10 minutes of silent meditation daily - certainly not always. Fundamentally, I am a householder - I live in a big city, commute on the train for a 9-7 job, am married, soon to be a father, own a couple houses, am a composer, blogger, philosopher, curly-haired weirdo, and in general a pathological multi-tasker who kneads polysemous dough until the wolves howl down the moon. (’Cept when me laid up in purple fiberglass, of course.)

When a deeply expansive space of silent meditation emerges in one’s awareness, there need not be anything more than such a field that in our daily practice we strive for. Certainly there can be - the pissing contest is a persistant possibility with the masco types - but simple access to this space is certainly transformative over the long haul. At least 1% of your waking moments in silent meditation - if you do it everyday - has worked fine for me to enter and experience this space. Same goes for various and sundry folks I have spoken with, not the least of which are women and strongly feminine dudes who’d rather dance and tend gardens than kneel on a stinky blanket.

And just today I receive a call on my cellphown - via Sprint’s Interdimensional Subtle Satellite Network - from J.S. Bach, a Christian composer from the 18th century, a man of some repute. Heard of him? Great guy, really, and its a good thing I know a little German (and that he is sitting right over there) - cuz he told me that, in his view, there is no need for musicians to have a contemplative practice besides their musicship. His eyes see it as doubled-over effort, and not as pranic as the witness of played tones.

I like to think that the grand Western Music trajectory, from Hildegard von Bingen to our present day composers, bless all hearts, qualifies as a bonefied wisdom tradition, since I’ve learned more through music - singing, dancing, playing, listening - than I have from Christianity, Buddhism, Islam, calculus, psychology, and shiny philosophy put together — all as so much sand castles blown asway on the windy beach.

[The original Python troupe's] ambition was to create a new species of comedy; Spamalot's ambition is to extend the Python brand to a more lucrative and less demanding demographic. "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" was perfect as a last-minute singalong in The Life of Brian, where it juxtaposed the climactic tragedy of the Bible with glib self-help culture. In Spamalot it becomes a cloyingly repeated theme song.

Hey TG:

A comment upon the speculative question you pose in #1. In integral theory, stages of development aren't skipped, but the stages of development can always be redrawn to accomodate a preference for growth trajectory. I don't think there is nearly enough verifiable evidence to confirm or deny your question. Clare Graves' evidence, to the extent that it ever existed, was lost. This wing of the house stands on quicksand.

The larger issue, though, is potentially a deal-breaker for the use of stage conceptions for practical benefit for individuals. And this larger issue is that stage conceptions are sociogenetic/phylogenetic - these describe dynamics only seen at the level of an entire species, namely the human species, through meta-analysis. You can only detect the various qualities of stages when you look at entire cultures, or entire groups of people. Arbitrariness is tempered when patterns are seen in millions of people. And the detection can only be confirmed in an analysis of tens and hundreds of years. Not five or six, or since 1969.

But the kinds of dynamic that operate at the level of a single person - psychogenetic/ontogenetic dynamics, even microgentically - they don't show up as stages. I mean, does anyone actually feel green, orange, blue, red, purple, beige or chartreuse in their life, day to day, moment to moment? Of course not, because our lives do not operate in such ways. Why would anyone want it that way? Some integral theorists, in the cyber-halls of IU, were fond of sayings like, "you are being so orange!" This imprints an enormous cultural dynamic upon a single chap and his proposal, the height of absurdity. (no, this wasn't me).

So my point is that at the everyday level of a single person, throw the philosophy of stage conception far to the side. Instead, we ought deal in experiments, injunctions, and exercises. And these ought not be geared towards the realization of stage growth. But instead simple openness, willingness to experiment, suspend disbelief, and activate interior energy.

And to this day, I have never met a MGM person, even though I've lived in such supposed MGM hotspots such as Minneapolis and Boston, and visited Boulder several times. The whole idea is, in my view, a pile of shit, and the height of propoganda from Wilber and Beck. The better idea is from David Brooks - that of "Bobos", or bourgeois bohemians, an idea that rests not on unverified philosophy, but tactile examples in life.

If there is a charateristic of people worth noting (whom Wilber/Beck would call MGM), it is a lack of distinction between, again, sociogeny and psychogeny. The overabundance of information and mass media is one reason for the blur is this important distinction. Towards a single person, we project the disasters/dignities of the human species. It is a crime. It is mean, and it can only be done by people obsessed by NPR, the New Yorker, the BBC, and Noam Chomsky.

McLUHAN: Before the invention of the phonetic alphabet, man lived in a world where all the senses were balanced and simultaneous, a closed world of tribal depth and resonance, an oral culture structured by a dominant auditory sense of life. The ear, as opposed to the cool and neutral eye, is sensitive, hyperaesthetic and all-inclusive, and contributes to the seamless web of tribal kinship and interdependence in which all members of the group existed in harmony.

The primary medium of communication was speech, and thus no man knew appreciably more or less than any other -- which meant that there was little individualism and specialization, the hallmarks of "civilized" Western man. Tribal cultures even today simply cannot comprehend the concept of the individual or of the separate and independent citizen. Oral cultures act and react simultaneously, whereas the capacity to act without reacting, without involvement, is the special gift of "detached" literate man. Another basic characteristic distinguishing tribal man from his literate successors is that he lived in a world of acoustic space, which gave him a radically different concept of time-space relationships.

PLAYBOY: What do you mean by "acoustic space"?

McLUHAN: I mean space that has no center and no margin, unlike strictly visual space, which is an extension and intensification of the eye. Acoustic space is organic and integral, perceived through the simultaneous interplay of all the senses; whereas "rational" or pictorial space is uniform, sequential and continuous and creates a closed world with none of the rich resonance of the tribal echoland. Our own Western time-space concepts derive from the environment created by the discovery of phonetic writing, as does our entire concept of Western civilization.

The man of the tribal world led a complex, kaleidoscopic life precisely because the ear, unlike the eye, cannot be focused and is synaesthetic rather than analytical and linear. Speech is an utterance, or more precisely, an outering, of all our senses at once; the auditory field is simultaneous, the visual successive. The models of life of nonliterate people were implicit, simultaneous and discontinuous, and also far richer than those of literate man.

By their dependence on the spoken word for information, people were drawn together into a tribal mesh; and since the spoken word is more emotionally laden than the written -- conveying by intonation such rich emotions as anger, joy, sorrow, fear -- tribal man was more spontaneous and passionately volatile. Audile-tactile tribal man partook of the collective unconscious, lived in a magical integral world patterned by myth and ritual, its values divine and unchallenged, whereas literate or visual man creates an environment that is strongly fragmented, individualistic, explicit, logical, specialized and detached.

Ultimately, the debate about choice is not about markets but about character. Liberty and responsibility really do go together; it’s not just a platitude. The more freedom we have to control our lives, the more responsibility we have for how they turn out. In a world of constraints, learning to be happy with what you’re given is a virtue. In a world of choices, virtue comes from learning to make commitments without regrets. And commitment, in turn, requires self-confidence and self-knowledge.

One tie-in between a vital module and a technical module would be the useful experiment to sing along with the melody you play simultaneously on the instrument.

For example, if you play bass, vocalize (with an 'ahhh') what you pluck or strum on the instrument. Take your time. Play/sing long tones. Don't rush.

It is better to let your voice lead just slightly when you want to change notes, with the bass notes just slightly behind. Make a natural hierarchy with the voice in the preeminent role, always.

The voice is the purest melodic instrument known to man. To ape it with your bass means that the music from your bass reaches beyond mere finger capacity. Even if your singing voice isn't too hot, there is still a fullness to the human voice that instruments don't by nature have.

One major problem of approaches to instrumentalist technique is that they advocate a kind of gross reductionism and flatland - i.e., technique is strictly quantifiable, all about speed and number of notes. But such technique makes music of only a very narrow variety. This has made the practice of instruments a very boring affair, when it fact it can be deeply enriching and a lot of pure fun.

So for this form of tone yoga:

Experiment one is simultaneously sing/play a single long tone; held on the instrument for the duration of a single breath.

Experiment two is to add a second note, above or below, also for the duration of a single breath. Take your time. At every turn, ask 'what does this sound like? What does this note feel like?'

Experiment three is to add a third note. Now you sing/play three long tones, each held for a natural breath.

And then experiment four is to speed up the tempo. Now two notes to one breath, and the third for one breath. Then all three in one breath.

All subsequent experiments add notes and increase tempo within breaths. But don't rush to these. Take the first couple slowly. Enjoy what a single tone feels like. The sonorities can be rich, as rich as you have the ears and awareness for. Enjoy the challenges each note presents to achieve and sustain fullness, in your voice and in the instrument.

All in all, tighten the connection between tactile instrument and your human voice. What is forgotten in the modern age is that instruments are extensions of consciousness, and extensions of the human voice.

Just like it is difficult to absorb the communication of people who talk at 800 mph in their conversational speech, it is difficult to really absorb the music of instrumentalist who insist on playing fast all the time.

What is lost in speed is the power of music's barest sounds, through the medium of the musician's consciousness. And in our woodshed time and space, there is no better environment to slow everything the fuck down.

For the reason we are musicians is because we love pure sound, evoked for its own sake. Music comes when we realize the sound (and its interior correlates) that frightens us, and then explore those fears in tone.

There are no direct answers. Just what we hear, feel, and embrace as the voice of our discreet vibrations calls us deeper, deeper, and still deeper.

When the birthplace shifted from home to hospital, the custom of excluding fathers and visitors (including women) continued. Unfortunately, hospitals underestimated the profoundly positive influence provided by the constant presence of a caring woman friend, relative, doula, or midwife. Replacing this kind of support from women with nurses too busy to stay at the bedside, and with whom the mother had no prior connection, made birth an unneccessarily lonely and terrifying experience.

There are different reasons for making music. For some people the album is a starting point — once the album is out, they’re gonna promote the hell out of it, they’re gonna tour, they’re gonna work it, they’re gonna try to make something happen. The album comes out, and it’s like a gun going off at the start of a race. But for other people, the album coming out is a finish line. They wanted their whole life to make a record. And you know what, it’s been a few years with some friends and some favors, but they did it, they made a record. And that’s the end of it, they don’t even really care if people buy it — they are happy that they fulfilled this dream of making a record. It’s a very different mentality.

It seems if there is a problem with the lack of training in the traditional hand skills as is mentioned in the article “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Mess” by Laurie Fendrich that I posted in my last entry, it isn’t the lack of the techniques and the products of those techniques that is relevant in the context of more conceptual and interdisciplinary work, but it is the lack of discipline that comes with training towards technical mastery that is missing.

This lack of commitment is something I see too often in Chicago performances. People giving up on their endurance pieces, inviting us to shows that are tossed together haphazardly, or abandoning their performance installations in the middle of the opening so they can smooze...it is lame.