Mr. Tea

Let's Talk About Ceps
The guy I knew in college who was closest to a Bob Dylan Lou Reed type—mysterious, "fuck you" cult charisma—always wore the same set of flannel shirts and jeans and every shirt looked vaguely the same. There was a "look" a brand and it gave him powers and it also shut him off to changing, becoming something else. And I think it was a mix of terror (which you get with Dylan, "fragile as a winter leaf" Joan called him) and defensiveness, the brand was armor the shirts were armor. But it also gave him an air of independence, of being his own distinct person, that lent him an iconicity, a cult of personality. Perhaps that's what I'm projecting onto the Dylan situation.
I don't suppose you're still in touch with this guy in any way, even just on social media? I ask because it's one thing to be like that when you're 19 or 20 and another to keep it up beyond that.

I accept, of course, that you're still in 20s so this isn't the distant past we're talking about.
 
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sus

Moderator
I don't suppose you're still in touch with this guy in any way, even just on social media? I ask because it's one thing to be like that when you're 19 or 20 and another to keep it up beyond that.

I accept, of course, that you're still in 20s so this isn't the distant past we're talking about.
I am to some extent, he's a very smart guy altho w his share of blindspots, imagine he's still chugging along as usual. Has been very successful with aerospace job.
 

craner

Beast of Burden
One thing the text goes into is the way that intelligence agencies, marketing agencies, and the Catholic Church itself, caught onto this "horizontal" inclination in 60s counterculture, and realized it "opened" you up to trend and fad-chasing, towards adopting whatever came along (including metaphorical demons, egregores, infohazards)

Whereas, what I get from the Tea meme, is this walled-off conservativism that says, "The world is a hostile place trying to infect me and I have to keep my guard up or I'll be infected."

One relevant question here is: Are infohazards real? Do they exist? Are there ideas or realizations or truths about the world that can destroy you, drive you mad? I think there are. But perhaps they differ from person to person. I always think of Denethor, destroyed. Or Tom Cruise's character in Eyes Wide Shut, destroyed by this image of his wife and the... sailor? officer? w/e

This is the first post that has ever made me want to watch Eyes Wide Shut
 

DannyL

Wild Horses
should we do a Character Analysis groupread. or maybe a selection of the less analytic-qua-psychoanalysis chapters/essays
Character Analysis is a difficult read actually. At least the first part. Uses *a lot* of psychoanalytical jargon. Reich's writing gets simpler throughout his career, as he moves away from psychoanalysis.
 

DannyL

Wild Horses
The final parts of CA contain some amazing writing though. It contains a lenghty case study of Reich's work with a schizophrenic which is an incredible read. BTW I have a spare copy if anyone wants it?
 

DannyL

Wild Horses
i think we'd want to light on the sections about "character armor" in particular. how openness and closedness become pathological when they are adopted as fixed positions, and a person can no longer/never learns how to lower or raise their armor to consciously adapt. how pathological closedness is to neurosis as pathological openness is to psychosis, and as adaptive armoring and un-armoring is to 'the genital character'
I'd be up for helping with this - just DM me.
 

Mr. Tea

Let's Talk About Ceps
Your wish is my command.

not sure if i told this story already but:

i was invited to an “art performance“, together with a friend and a friend of him. we didn’t have any info. when we arrive we realize the address is just a regular apartment on the ground floor. we ring the bell and a girl wearing a white toga opens. she scans us and slams the door shut again. we wait a bit, not sure what to do and after a few seconds she opens the door again and tells us we are allowed in. the apartment is completely white, everything, from walls to ceilings to furniture. there’s about 15 people inside and they are all wearing these toga’s, but they’re half naked, boobs and genitals everywhere. they are all young and beautiful. one of the girls tells me to sit next to her, and she then starts to tell how she had a mental breakdown some weeks ago in the supermarket and it was then that she met a guy called “papa“, who helped her and took her into his family. at one point they all sit down in a circle and start singing a song about this “papa“, they all know the lyrics perfectly. they don’t have names but call themselves by the letters of the greek alphabet (alpha, beta, gamma, etc). i wanted to roll a cigarette but was not allowed to use my own tobacco and had to use theirs. well, it goes on a bit longer and more of them tell me stories about “papa“. i thought it was all a joke then one asks me if i want to meet him. i was like sure why not. so a girl takes me to the corner of the room and it looks like they just drilled a hole in it, a ladder is going down into a basement. it’s dark but there are some candles spread around. she takes of her toga and is now completely naked. then she takes of my shoes, my socks, pants and so on. until i’m naked too. she doesn’t say a word during all of this. actually i don’t know why at that point i didn’t say or do anything. curiosity maybe? she then blindfolds me. she takes my hand and guides me through the basement, we stop and she washes my feet and hands with warm water. she then puts her arms around me and is doing some sort of breathings exercises. i’m sweaty and a bit afraid. we move further and at one point she tells me to sit down, i do and she sits herself behind me and gives me a massage. then i suddenly hear a low male voice, asking me “who are you“. i’m guessing this is “papa“ (i’m still naked and blindfolded). well i’m really a bit frightened now and he’s asking me some more questions until he says i’m ready for the ritual with the candle. tells me i can pick any of the family members to help me with this ritual, i tell him i forgot their names but would prefer if one of the girls could help (no intention, i’m just thinking about my safety, i’m not the strongest). so another girl comes down, takes my hand and we move further inside this basement until she tells me i can take of the blindfold. in front of me is an altar with a painting of a guy (i guess “papa“?), the room is lit by about hundred candles. well the story is a bit of an anti-climax because i’m now being told i can do a wish, carve the first letter of that wish into a candle and light it. i’m escorted to the ladder again, put on my cloths and go up. in order to not look like panicking i stay there for another fifteen minutes before i sneak out.

the whole thing lasted around two hours, not a single person laughed, or blinked or gave me any hints that this was theater. i didn't know what was real or fake anymore, i thought i was the crazy one.
 
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