Saturday, June 10, 2006

Damn You, Ken Wilber


[there's a picture for everything]

Here's the deal, I don't remember my dreams. In fact, I seldom get enough sleep to have the two or three hours of REM sleep we need, so my brain gets it where it can, often within the first hour or two of hitting the pillow, but sometimes not -- we move in and out of what would be REM sleep if we were actually sleeping during the course of the day.

So I'm standing in the shower this morning and I haven't had my coffee yet. I'm just letting the hot water run on my upper back because my traps are sore. My eyes are closed. Suddenly I'm being subjected to an image of Ken Wilber in cowboy clothes (complete with six shooters at his side) riding a very tall unicycle. The scene is something like a royal court, and apparently Ken is the court jester.

So he starts speaking as he spins around the floor, reciting the lines from his recent post with big exaggerated arm gestures and the occasional shot into the air with his pistol. Everyone is laughing and laughing and even Don Beck and others (who I assume were the targets of his post) are laughing along while everyone else points at them and laughs.

This scene goes on like this for a few minutes, and then Ken dismounts the rather tall unicycle and takes a bow. It suddenly becomes clear he is wearing chaps but no pants beneath them.

I feel confused until I realize I'm still standing in the shower.

Uh, damn.

Damn you, Ken Wilber, for infecting what little dream life I have with your mind games. On the other hand, I guess my brain is still trying to work this thing out.

Maybe Wilber was instigating some kind of crazy wisdom in his post, taking on a trickster role. Or maybe he was trying to blow up our view of him as a guru rather than as pandit. Or maybe this is his version of being a rude boy of enlightenment.

Or maybe he was engaging in post-metaphysical, multi-perspectival performance art.

Who the hell cares. I've spent three days of my life with this being a central part of my blogging and comments. For what?

Actually, I kind of like the performance art thing. I remember seeing a short clip in college of a performance art piece where a man walks out onto a stage, flips off the audience, pulls out his penis, and procedes to piss all over the stage and the people in the front row seats. Talk about a tough act to follow.

But performance art is so post-modern. Certainly The Ken is at least post-post-modern. And the post would certainly indicate that he is beyond the relativism of the post-modern world view. There is a hierarchy, and damn it, he's at the top.

Okay, that's all. I have limited time to blog today, so I'm on to other concerns.

This has been fun in a shooting-each-other-with-BB-guns kind of way. I look forward to the next post-metaphysical, multi-perspectival performance piece from Ken and his crew.


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