Subtle Energies

I'm starting to think that this is more about "subtle energies" than some kind of overt thought.

In other words, not what your brain is working to think, but what your body believes and is radiating. --Just like A Confederacy of Dunces--if your "valves" are open. Muscle memory and cell memory.

If this is right then you can't get over at all--can't sacrifice a couple unhappy hours and end up feeling richer next week. If this is right, it's pretty much all real-time.

Another interesting aspect of magnetism, or quantum attraction, is that there wouldn't really be any sort of "mistakes". You just get either more or less magnetized for something.

And the more magnetized you get the more likely you are to have it reach out and tap you on the shoulder--literally.

Which isn't a reason to never get off the couch--I think that one becomes demagnetized for what you really want just as quickly by not doing what you want as by doing something--focusing on something--you don't want to do.

But I may be wrong. I do know that if you are doing what you want, you shouldn't be afraid of missing something that is important to you. Because you won't. Getting focused is important, as is setting your priorities. And the rest will fall into place. --You'll meet them along the way.

An interesting anecdote:

When I first got to Chicago I set about looking for blue cashmere overcoats and nice brown leather coats.

I looked most places I went, but I have very particular tastes, bordering on exact, and I found nothing for the first couple months. (I was also looking on a "just moved, no job yet" budget--basically looking for a $1000 coat for under $50.)

Then a strange thing happened.

I started finding blue wool overcoats at my local thrift store.

First I found a nice wool one. Not exactly the right size, but close enough for government work. It was nicely made and in decent shape. Not soft, but hey, winter was coming. I did the numbers--one find every three months and snapped it up immediately. $25.

Then I found another one. A few weeks later. It was $50 but it was cashmere. A little worn in a few places but the cut was very nice. It wasn't a perfect cut for what I wanted (to wear it fitted without a coat underneath), but again I did the math--it was the first navy cashmere coat I had seen in months and months of looking. Winter was approaching and I had better act fast.

I snapped it up.

And then something really strange happened. You guessed it. An even better one. I don't remember if it was one or two more before I finished. But it arrived just in time for winter, was the cheapest cashmere one that I found ($35 I think), fit better than all the rest and was in better shape. I've worn it for a couple years now.

What I'm talking about is skipping the process. Is having faith that the exact one is out there. And that it's just getting better until you say "there couldn't possibly be a better one that this", and chow down.

And what if the universe is set up to operate like this?

The process for my leather coat went exactly the same, except there I ended up with a beautiful new one. (Two actually). Probably close to $2,000 in coats for around $200.

This has happened with countless other items since the coat thing. Sweaters, shoes, guitars--and that's just material items. I'm sure it happens even more significantly with people and relationships. Once we learn what we really want.

So what if it just looks like we have to hunt for the things we want? What if it just looks like we have to go out of ourselves? And in actuality, it is after we get over the fear, subdue the panic and emotionally "own" whatever it is we want that it arrives.

And all the "trouble", "problems" and "work" are just there to get us more rapidly to that point? Or are even created by ourselves to learn how to deal with them?

And by the way, I'm more sure than ever that premium priced mass culture is just around the corner. It can't not be. It's too obvious. There are too many people already paying $800 for a haircut. $2K for a sweater.

And they don't have any new ideas to base their designs on. They don't have a framework to live within. (Except that they're probably inching toward "punk" as the marrow of that gets homogenized--as they tease the radical content out of it).

And what we all want more than anything is a framework to live within. A culture.

Except that we don't feel we deserve one. Because we're still taking stock of what our growth and power has cost. And what we've ended up doing to other people to secure something that was at times and at other times not already safe.

But in so doing, we're still fucking with people. And they won't have any relief until we decide to mind our own business. Be ourselves. Be white. Be gold.

Cause our attention is a mother. Insecurity, adoration, kindness, and the need for control. We find it a little hard to be vulnerable. To listen. Even when we're ostensibly there to help.

But you can't go farther from yourself--name your books after foreign gods, practice yoga and learn Sanskrit, adapt TM practices, become punk or sing the blues--without intensifying in the part of you you won't deal with the longing for home. For the feeling of home.

And eventually, you'll do anything--whatever it takes--to get that feeling. No matter how "into" clubs you were, no matter how much you loved the culture of Northern Africa, no matter how deep you delved into Gamalon rituals. It all points straight back home.

And once you arrive back it might not be as sexy as the Nile Delta. It might not feel as exotic or lush. It might seem corny, or neurotic, or plain. It might seem white. Vanilla.

But rest assured, there's plenty of grist for the mill. Ain't no one going to get out unscathed. You'll be wrong at times. Fuck up at others.

--Just like your blues heroes. Just like Lee Scratch Perry and Timbaland! Just like Snoop!

And slowly, through reading books like The Love Artist, you'll develop a sense of an indigenous white culture. 2000 years after the fact. Yesterday. AND then TODAY!

And then right now.

And you'll scoff that you ever lived without it. That you ever for a moment thought you weren't worth it or couldn't afford it. When you were spending $1,700 a year at Starbucks getting nothing but farther from yourself. $974 a year at Ikea on stuff that immediately needed replacement.

$120 for a book that told you what was up? That showed you?!

That gave you the feeling?!!!?

And can do it again and again? That makes it come real in your life!

That was a fucking bargain!

And you can't believe you insisted on being such a tight ass. So faithless.

That you insisted it wasn't possible when it was right in front of your eyes for so long.

That your oldest two kids had parents that didn't know--didn't want to--because it seemed "weird". Or could have made you look like a fool.

You can disbelieve me if you like--and there will be more jam bands to come if you want to wait--but I guarantee that it can only happen like this. That you want to pay what it is worth. I can guarantee that you want to be a full consumer on this one.

Even though it might be scary. To go where no one has gone before.

It's called making yourself vulnerable. Which is what I did to the fucking hilt in writing the book. And what you will have to do to read it.

I won't ask you to make yourself as vulnerable as I did. After all you're not getting the only copy. But this isn't for kids. It's not Count Chocula.

But I also won't short myself. I won't give it out for a back-breaking $14.95. Because I know what that would do to the world. I know that the American public can take as much as anyone can give. And still not care.

Which is why mosts of our artists have such a piss-poor attitude. Any piss-poor attitude I have is because this is taking longer than I thought--because I thought you wouldn't be able to clamp down your desire like you do.

I didn't think you'd be able to survive at or past the breaking point so well--exclaiming to all who will listen (except your shrink and the guy who doles out the beds) that you're doing great!

I thought you were just waiting for someone else to go first.

But that's okay. And that's on me! I take full and absolute responsibility.

But I don't--and won't tell you that corporations are messing up the world. I won't tell you that it's impossible to live in this fake society. That it's the advertisers that are messed up. Because I believe in you.

And I believe in the advertisers. Because I was one. Par excellence.

I believe in you and know that eventually you'll let go. Because that's what I had to do. And it was the only way to maintain my sanity. EVEN THOUGH it seemed insane.

And that's where I am today. Back from that front trying to convince folks that there's only one way the peace can be won. I'm happy to share my calculations, but I do ask from my audience that they be completely honest with themselves about their desires.

I won't bitch out a pessimistic, jaded $14.95 CD or book, but you've got to be willing to pay what the real deal is worth. I also won't sugar-coat the truth--white wash where we actually are (or, regarding my book, where I was)--but again, I'll have to find an audience that a) wants and can handle the non-indie, non-mainstream truth and b) is willing to pay what it's worth.

I know that's asking a lot. But, again, I believe in you. Completely. And I know we'll get there. No matter how commonplace the arbitrary becomes--and flat-rate pricing for cultural content is one of the most arbitrary artifacts remaining in our culture--it is still arbitrary.

And this arbitrary decision is the most damning one left. It makes organic foods, environmental goods and decent coffee look like quaint old struggles fought by old ladies (and may god bless old ladies).

It will take significant power to change it. But nothing that we don't already have at our disposal. Nothing that we don't already give up halfway down the frozen foods isle.

Put it this way: we won't miss it for a second.

Love.