Corridor of Madness

The piece would already be worth reading, if nothing else, for its fast-paced, perceptive recapitulation of various occultural trends up to the Nineties, complete with mention of some key events and figures (remember Jose' Arguelles and his Harmonic Convergence?). But there is more.

As I read Antero's OCCULTURE some 10 years after it was written, the recapitulation hits home, memories comes back; I am prompted to reflect and retrace the passage of those future promises that Antero talks about: from the way they looked in 1993, to how they unfolded during the decade, to the image they have assumed now.

The last paragraph reads,

"Whether it's on the streets and/or incognito computerized virtual realities, the time has come for the chaotic emergence of the species' own intuitive genius. How will we recognize it? What will it look like and what will it do? It transmits a dream more optimistic than the beats, more precise than the hippies, more dynamic than the new agers and more soulful than the bleak cyberpunks. What's "it"? All these occultural movements make up the groundwork of its unfoldment. What "it" is, however, is now up for grabs which makes IT all the more breath taking, dangerous and imminently alive."

Right. What is "it"? It seems that this question hasn't been fully answered yet, and it probably isn't meant to be. It may be, if anything, that it should be asked more.

I remember this idea, that I heard from E.J. Gold, of certain "work questions" to which an ultimate answer can never be found, unless one decides to settle for something that sounds good, and treat it as the ultimate answer. The point of course is not answering the question, but mantaining it within the consciousness; asking it sincerely enough that it becomes a centrum of gravity for the entire being, rescuing it from fragmentation and focusing it into a single "I", for as long as we can keep that particular alchemical fire burning.

As more and more maps are shattered, and occulture finds new languages, abilities and perceptions, a strange sense of urgency still seems to be enveloping us. Maybe, as Antero wonders in his essay, it is the voice of imminent extinction as it slowly begins an abrupt, vertical crescendo from whisper to deafening scream. Or maybe, paraphrasing Jose' Arguelles, we are approaching the end of Time as we know it. Or maybe not, but in any case it seems to me we are finally beginning to ask some good questions with a certain amount of intensity, beginning to allow them to guide and restructure us. If we keep the friction alive, it might erupt into fire. If we fan the flames, they might eat away at the doors behind which the huge storehouses of our "intuitive genius" lie.

How was that Vaneigem quote?

We must discover new frontiers... People have been standing for centuries before a worm-eaten door, making pinholes in it with increasing ease. The time has come to kick it down, for it is only on the other side that everything begins.

In the end it all comes down to practice. How focused are we, how penetratingly fixed our gaze on exploring all the possible forms of "IT"? It is enough for friction, but what about fire?

That may be the challenge of this time and its warp, after all - focus. Maybe that's the difference between 1993 and now - we have 11 years less to lose.

Maybe. The answer keeps eludes me, always one step ahead; I would like to take its bait and keep chasing its ghost, but it's the middle of the night, and sleep is already having its way.

Good night.