About a month ago I was preparing a streaming video player for an event at work. During downtime, the player streams old content from Michigan Television (public TV at U of M that has now been closed). In a pleasant coincidence, I happened to see an interview with Thylias Moss, an English professor at U-M who teaches a class on “Limited Fork Theory” in the School of Art and Design.

I figure you’re asking, “But what’s ‘Limited Fork Theory’?” It starts as a class about digital composition, but then goes way past the limits of traditional college education. As the course synopsis explains,

The approach is thematic rather than monolithic allowing students to draw information from any and all areas of their experience toward investigations of their own devising within a thematic context, this semester: framing systems. Limited Fork Theory is the study of interacting language systems: any/all visual, sonic, olfactory, tactile systems/subsystems on any/all scales for some duration of time.

Then Moss’ website 4orked.com says it

is also a Theory of Everything that not only includes, but also appreciates: imagination, the fruitfulness of dead ends, the possibilities of error, the usefulness of failure, the beauty of the many configurations of the box the limited fork comes out of and goes into, forking, reconfiguring, shaping, folding, unfolding, and bifurcating all the way.

Many paths to many worlds: one limited fork.

I’m impressed that this development has come about at a public institution. Moss was an awarded poet before developing this theory and corresponding practice. But it seems she risked more than her reputation as a writer in pursuing her passion. She was already an English professor when it began, and as she says in the video below, she interrupted the schedule of a semester course to take this new direction!

As she relates, “When I went to class on Monday, I had my students throw out everything. I said to them, ‘I don’t believe what I said when class has started. I cannot continue.’”

Moss posts online under the pseudonym Forker Girl, which she calls “the embodiment of Limited Fork Theory.” I find it especially interesting that she’s not keeping it a secret, like most professionals did with their pseudonymous work in the past. However, I think Forker Girl might be more of an alternate personality than a pen name.

Moss implies that Forker Girl is more free to express “herself,” which brings to mind the way Tyler Durden empowered the narrator in Fight Club. It seems this transition will happen more frequently in the future, as people stop allowing themselves to be limited to one professional role, trying to adhere to an imaginary idea of what’s “normal” for adults.

From Moss’ viewpoint, anyone can partake in this sort of exercise. “Certainly in imagination if no other way, you can allow these things to converge – allow something to happen. And then the role of a person who would be a practitioner of Limited Fork Theory would be to somehow document what happens.”

In a second video Moss demonstrates how even taking an abstract photograph can fuel her inspiration. “…there is no rule to the orientation of [the photo.] You see, as we turn it, we get other ideas. Other possibilities emerge. From this we get to experience and understand and analyze those perspectives denied to us based upon the limits of human perception.”

There’s a synchronicity in this story as well. I discovered Limited Fork Theory about the same time I was reading Aldous Huxley’s Heaven and Hell, a survey of tools used to induce visionary experience throughout human history — everything from precious gems to religious fasting to mescalin. To Huxley, what makes an experience visionary is the extent to which it transports a person beyond those “limits of human perception” that Moss mentioned.

Just as nicotinic acid can stop the visions caused by lysergic acid or mescalin, according to Huxley, “another inhibitor of visionary experience is ordinary, everyday, perceptual experience.” (p. 87) A person’s visionary power is defined by his or her awareness of the experience, voluntary control over it, and ability to express it to others. “For most of us most of the time, the world of everyday experience seems rather dim and drab. But for a few people often, and for a fair number occasionally, some of the brightness of visionary experience spills over, as it were, into common seeing, and the everyday universe is transfigured.” (p. 93)

Huxley makes it pretty clear that psychedelic drugs are only one way of activating the visionary mind, and a very temporary and undependable way at that. It seems that an increasing number of people today are looking for a way into the mental netherworld without having to depend on chemicals. Or stated another way (by fellow blogger Kaliptus), drugs can guide and educate us, but they are misused if the only purpose is “to get fucked up.”

The underlying goal, as Huxley puts it, is to “become capable of experiencing consciously something of that which, unconsciously, is always with us.” (p. 106) And it should be noted that, while some people are more inclined towards visionary perception, the potential exists in the psychological make-up of all human beings. “At the antipodes of every mind lay the Other World of preternatural light and preternatural color, of ideal gems and visionary gold.” (pp. 114-115)

There’s still an air of impossibility when discussing this topic in the Western world, partly because, as Huxley points out, “familiarity breeds indifference.” We live in a flashy, distracting world, and what lies outside of physical perception is almost totally omitted from popular education (whether in school or at home). That’s why it’s so exciting to see someone like Moss at a public university. The students in the video seem absolutely enthralled by the class. I’m hoping this points to a coming trend.

LINKS:
4orked.com
4orkology.com
A Limited Forker Girl’s Tines
English 414 at U of M

On May 28, WBUR’s program “Here and Now” aired a segment about Wagner’s opera “The Ring” and its influence on comic books. (I’d embed it here, but they don’t let you download the MP3. You can listen at the link. Just scroll down the page when you get there.) Apparently many characters from graphic novels of the 20th century were shaped by Wagner’s four-part work.

This seemed relevant to me for a variety of reasons. I’m currently obsessed with Wonder Showzen, a heady spoof of Sesame Street that came from the Brooklyn group PFFR before they made Xavier: Renegade Angel. In one episode of Wonder Showzen, a child journalist goes around asking people, “What’s a hero?” The goal was to point out that we may be tricked (by movies, news and other media) into thinking that Superman or Iron Man or 9/11 firefighters are going to “save us.”

I’ll try not to wander too much here. It’ll suffice to say that I’ve become very interested in the topic of “heroes.” I wanted to write about this “Here and Now” show because I just finished the book Prometheus Rising by Robert Anton Wilson. Wilson first published the revised version of his psychology PhD dissertation in 1983. Chapter 17 in the book — entitled “Quantum Evolution — contains a discussion about the modern symphony orchestra interpreted through the book The Third Wave by Alvin Toffler.

The coincidence of the radio show and my reading the book seemed to be a synchronicity (also mentioned in Wilson’s book), a Jungian concept meaning “an acausal and/or holistic principle in nature that acts outside the linear past-present-future of Newtonian time” (p. 152). But I’m straying again…

Wilson brings up Toffler to explain the quickening pace of “domesticated primate evolution” — that is, the ongoing development of human beings. According to Toffler’s model, the “First Wave” was a shift from tribal to “feudal-agricultural” societies. The Second Wave came in the mid to late 19th century, and was a shift from a feudal-agricultural system to an “industrial-urban-market economy.” That can also be described as the “Age of Reason” or the “Industrial Age.”

Now we’re in a sort of transitional period as the Third Wave passes through and creates the Information Age (many other potential titles have been proposed). As Wilson explains, “Each wave is faster, by a factor of 10, than the previous wave. And each wave is more total in that it changes more people…and in the process transforms our concept of human nature and human society” (p. 255).

This section turns out to be highly prophetic in what it says about the effect of computers on society.

Toffler does not claim that the computer is the whole of the Third Wave, but merely that it is the synecdoche or paradigm of what is happening. In this sense, the factory was the synecdoche of the Second Wave. It was not merely the agent by which ‘indust-reality’ spread across the world and multiplied our collective wealth (and illth); it also became the model for everything else (p. 256).

You might be wondering about Toffler’s term “indust-reality.” Essentially it means the mass reality tunnel that has been prevalent during the Industrial Age. In effect, “…’indust-reailty,’ the reality of the industrial age, moved everybody into the robot lockstep of the factory system” (p. 256).

This brings us back to the idea of the symphony orchestra:

‘Indust-reality’ is still so pervasive that it is…mostly invisible. For instance, the feudal age never progressed beyond chamber music—trios, quartets, etc. The modern symphony, with its huge orchestra, its Promethean themes, its god-like conductor (‘capitalist’), its concert-master (foreman), its string section moving in harmony with its brass section, etc. is a beautiful artistic expression of modes of mass human organization appearing usually in less beautiful forms in the factory assembly-line. (The factory also demanded cities—massive concentrations of labor in one place—which made the symphony economically possible…) (pp. 256-257).

Now to synthesize this information. The music of Wagner is wholly representative of the Second Wave, the Industrial Age, the Age of Reason — the military-industrial-capitalist complex that has dominated our civilization for the last 150 years. This point needs no further proof than the scene in Apocalypse Now when Lieutenant Colonel Bill Kilgore (played by Robert Duvall) blasts Wagner as his fleet of helicopters takes a Vietnamese town by storm.

As I said before, Wagner’s music also contributed to superhero characters and their stories. And we are likely duped into thinking that the problems facing mankind will be resolved by some benevolent source of power. But the most powerful role in “indust-reality” is the capitalist — i.e., whoever has the most money. Wilson recognized this as well, and he thought “it was inevitable in a domesticated primate species”:

Neither capitalist indust-reality nor socialist indust-reality have been able to give humanity what most of us really want: liberty and justice, freedom and the abolition of poverty, continued growth and continued security. [...] The Third Wave can, and will, transcend this problem within industrialism. [...] It will demand a whole new economy… (p. 257).

So as you can see, I think it’s a little humorous that “Here and Now” is celebrating the performance of Wagner’s opera. “Indust-reality” is becoming more irrelevant by the day, as computers and related technology help us bridge into the next phase of our evolution.

Now that I finally have a moment to breathe, I can post a treat for you. Last Friday I saw Flying Lotus and Dr Strangeloop — an experimental hip hop artist and visual artist (and sometimes musician), respectively — perform a “live musical score to Harry Smith’s 1962 animated avant-garde classic Heaven & Earth Magic” (as the press release put it). The show, which took place at the Michigan Theater, was arranged as part of the Ann Arbor Film Festival.

Sadly I didn’t arrive until 7:15, so I not only missed the beginning of the main feature, but also Dr. Strangeloop’s opening performance of “2010: (or) How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Technological Singularity.” I hadn’t heard much about “the Singularity” before the show. But actually, just that afternoon Kaliptus had been talking to me about author Terence McKenna, who it seems was the first to elaborate on the concept. Dr. Strangeloop explains it in the third video below, so I’ll leave it to him.

The first two clips are from the live score performance. It was a pretty wild ride. I’m glad that I was there. As I explain in the YouTube info box, the videos are a bit wobbly and/or crooked because I was covering the viewing screen on my camera. I didn’t want to disturb anyone’s viewing experience. At least you can get a basic idea of what went down. The audience did ask the duo if they intended to release an official version of this performance. It sounds like they’re interested but not sure, although they would consider repeating the live score in the future. For more info on the program, you can view this press release or this tickets page.

I also attended and took videos at the “after party show” at the Blind Pig. But Flying Lotus, or someone purporting to be him, contacted me on YouTube and asked me to take those ones down. He didn’t explain why, and while at first I thought it would be because his new album Cosmogramma doesn’t come out until May 4, later on I realized he’s probably planning on selling a DVD of live performances. Dr. Strangeloop — who is part of Flying Lotus’s Brainfeeder label — provided live visuals with a midi board and laptop.

Anyway, enjoy the videos below. Just use the left and right arrows to navigate between the three.

Thanks to the wonderful serendipity offered on a regular basis by the Internet, I recently found an amazing Vimeo channel called Tryptophanatic Netvision. Or I should say, the channel found me. Kaliptus, the channel’s creator, added two of my creations to the list of mind-bending videos. So you can get an idea of what it’s all about, here’s the channel description:

Welcome to Tryptophanatic Netvision, where the screenings you are about to witness may reveal some of the deepest secrets of the universe! If you are ready for consciousness expansion, use this channel as a tool. The contents herein vary in style, quality, and nature… ranging from psychotropic animations to mystical videos, tripadelic motion graphics, mind warping experiments, occult surrealism and lots more. This Netvision is geared to alter your very being to a higher level of super hue-man exaltation & inspiration. “Caterpillars” beware!!!
This is “Butterfly” territory.

After reading that I was practically drooling with excitement. I swear I had just been pondering that same metaphor about the metamorphosis from caterpillar to butterfly. I’ve no doubt left hints on this blog about my own efforts to transcend the bizarre situation I find myself in, one that is in no way conducive to the type of creative activity I desperately crave. Somehow I feel oppressed, yet I can’t identify any oppressor. Maybe it’s just a state of claustrophobia brought on by the tight confines of a coccoon, as my organic plasma cooks into something that can lift me off this unsatisfactory plane of existence…

But I’m wandering. I highly recommend that you check out the Vimeo channel. Get comfortable, turn the lights down, and (if at all possible) watch on a large screen with a good sound system.

If you’re not familiar with Vimeo, it’s an alternative to YouTube that is quickly rising in popularity. It’s more stylish and more conducive to social networking. Furthermore, the people on there tend to be more dedicated to creativity — not just posting their home movies or pretending to be TV news anchors. Vimeo is a well sculpted garden, while YouTube is a stinky bog.

The main reason for this post is that Kaliptus is organizing an event in NYC on February 13, 2010, called Tryptophantasia. They’ll be screening experimental animation from the Vimeo channel, so if you’re in the area, please consider checking it out. It’ll probably be un-fricking-believable.

To download the event flier, right click HERE and choose “save link as.”

Also, I have some good news! Kaliptus has agreed to sign on as a new blogger at Supraterranean. Look for updates in the next week or so. It’ll tentatively be called “Tales from Tryptophantasia,” and will focus on many of the same topics as his Vimeo channel. Now please check out the promo video for the Tryptophantasia event below!

I’ll probably being much as I did before, but only the shorter work will appear here. In other words, any time an article goes beyond 600 words, I’ll post it as an essay on Supraterranean or attempt to publish it elsewhere. That’ll make this more of a blog and less of a column (currently most posts run around 1,000-1,400 words!).

Part of why I’m in a proactive mood is because I saw Hugh MacLeod’s online preview for his book Ignore Everybody in today’s Daily Rumpus email from Stephen Elliott. The book’s (more explanatory) subtitle is, “And 39 Other Keys to Creativity” — so it seems to be less a celebration of the solitary life than a modern guide to the creative life. I wasn’t familiar with MacLeod before, but I’m suddenly a fan of both his wisdom and his business card sketches (he explains those at the link). Just to list a few points:

- “Good ideas come with a heavy bur­den. Which is why so few peo­ple have them. So few peo­ple can handle it.”

- “The sove­reignty you have over your work will ins­pire far more peo­ple than the actual con­tent ever will.”

- “Doing anything worthwhile takes fore­ver. 90% of what sepa­ra­tes suc­cess­ful peo­ple and fai­led peo­ple is time, effort, and stamina.”

- “I would find that extra hour or two in the day that belongs to nobody else but me, and I would make it pro­duc­tive. Put the hours in, do it for long enough and magi­cal, life-transforming things hap­pen even­tually. Sure, that means less time watching TV, inter­net sur­fing, going out or wha­te­ver.”

- “Nobody sud­denly dis­co­vers anything. Things are made slowly and in pain.”

- “The price of being a sheep is BOREDOM. The price of being a wolf is LONELINESS. Choose one or the other with great care.”

It only gets better, but I’m nearing my 600-word limit, so you’ll have to read it yourself. MacLeod definitely has a way of putting this kind of thing into perspective with clarity and brevity. A lot of it reminds me of the creative “lone wolves” that I incessantly yap about on here, most notably Henry Miller (and also Camus’s work The Myth of Sisyphus). MacLeod’s sketches are great as well. It’s a less chaotic take on Ralph Steadman’s style, and some of the squiggly blobs are a much more skilled version of my own random notebook doodles during past classes.

I don’t know if I’ll buy the book though. MacLeod claims that his website offers “the first 25%” of the text (yay for alternative publishing models!), but the available selection doesn’t seem very long — at least, not a quarter of a book. Anyway, have a look at his website and let me know what you think. That’s the other part of this New Year’s deal: I’d really like to see more comments on here, to let me know that you’re involved.