“Never more loneliness than in the teeming crowd, the lonely man of the city surrounded by his inventions, the lost seeker drowning in the common identity”.

To me, Miller’s writing is–among other things–about transcendence through creativity and self-knowledge. He ends “Megalopolitan Maniac” with these words:

“Tomorrow you may bring about the destruction of your world. Tomorrow you may sing in Paradise above the smoking ruins of your world-cities. But tonight I would like to think of one man, a lone individual, a man without name or country, a man whom I respect because he has absolutely nothing in common with you—MYSELF. Tonight I shall meditate upon that which I am.”

Word.

The first thing that struck me as odd about Wilber’s post was the style of presentation, which was riddled with rambling redundancies, poor reasoning, and flat-out bad writing. This from a man capable of exquisitely lucid prose. Now, maybe he meant it as an off-the-cuff type of thing and I’m being a bit unfair, but this is a guy who rarely posts on his own blog, so I was surprised he’d go on record with this scattered post. Then there’s the content of the post, which is a strong public endorsement of a spiritual teacher named Mahendra Kumar Trivedi. From Wilber:

What I am claiming—and supporting—is that Guruji’s capacity to conduct and transmit universal spiritual energy (or “shakti”) is utterly remarkable, as proven by scientific experiments themselves. It is these direct, specific, scientific experiments and their results that I am reporting, and on which I am basing my endorsement. This is a scientific conclusion, not a spiritual one (although, of course, you are free to make those as well—but I am reporting the direct science, which is indeed astonishing).

[...] To put it briefly, Mr. Trivedi has an empirically demonstrated capacity to alter the atomic and molecular structure of phenomena simply through his conscious intentionality. The number of experiments done on this capacity (known in Sanskrit as shaktipat) that have been done in coordination with Mr. Trivedi is quite extraordinary—so far, over 5,000 empirical studies by universities and scientific research organizations all over the world (including the world renowned materials scientist Dr. Rustum Roy at the University of Pennsylvania).

Wilber takes great pains to stress that he’s basing his endorsement of “Guruji” (as he is affectionately known) on SCIENCE: “the reason is based entirely on direct, specific, scientific evidence. This evidence is so astonishing that I myself have never seen anything quite like it.” In fact, Wilber drives this point home at least a dozen times in his fairly short post. When I went to Trivedi’s website to check out the evidence, I found plenty of information and claims, but not a mention of peer-reviewed evaluation of results or independent research corroborating the findings. I would expect a scientifically-based endorsement to have higher standards, although as a non-scientist myself, I confess I am not qualified to pass authoritative judgment on such matters. Wilber seems to have a lot of confidence in the conclusions of one researcher in particular, the “world renowned” Dr. Rustum Roy. It should be noted, however, that Roy, like his associate Deepak Chopra, is not exactly lauded by mainstream scientists, as I’ve seen his name (perhaps unfairly) paired with words like “woo” and “pseudoscience” on more than one occasion (for instance here and here). Of course, there are plenty of science-based crusaders out there who would tear me apart, along with many of my intellectual heroes, so that kind of criticism in-and-of-itself doesn’t put Wilber’s endorsement on shaky ground. Rather, it’s Wilber’s credulity and weak justifications that have me scratching my head, and even cringing in embarrassment at times.

For example, Wilber offers this: “Especially if you see photos of these results, you can’t help but be struck by the rather intense capacity for this transmission demonstrated by Guruji.” Really? Photos on the internet? Wilber seems to be all-too-willing to validate anything and everything that supports his own view of the universe. We all do this, of course, but we’re not all hailed as “the Einstein of consciousness research.” And Wilber seems also to be all-to-willing to indulge in highly speculative conclusions based solely on the alleged abilities of a single man:

Several of us have been predicting for some time that a significant new transformation is beginning on Earth at this time. Various psychological tests and sociological indications tend to show that there is the beginning emergence of a new type of consciousness. [...] It might be that the Energy that Guruji is working with is the energetic support or correlate of this new Integral transformation. And that’s really pretty extraordinary. It’s pretty amazing that that might be happening.

And:

The point is that various psychological and sociological tests have verified the emergence of a new level of consciousness-again, one generally referred to as ” integrative” or ” integral.” In other words, this is not just some hair-brained academic theory, but a reality disclosed by specific testing. What hasn’t been disclosed is the new Life Energy that would be expected to underlie this new level of consciousness (what Integral Theory calls the Upper-Right quadrant aspect that would correlate with the newly emergent Upper-Left quadrant reality). But it is this new Integral energy that seems to be what Guruji is transmitting.

Notice Wilber’s highly dubious claim that “various psychological and sociological tests” have verified his theory of integral consciousness to the point of disclosing it as reality. It’s no wonder, based on that kind of flimsy reasoning, that Wilber would so readily endorse Trivedi as the real deal. The fact that a real scientist (Rustum Roy) affiliated with real universities supports Wilber’s thinking seems to be all the scientific confirmation Wilber needs to (tentatively) verify as real and true another brick in his Great Wall of Integral Theory. Throw in a little circular logic, and there’s nothing likely to keep Wilber from moving from tentative acceptance to total acceptance in the near future:

Guruji says that individuals have to be open for this, and I think that’s exactly right. You can’t force people to be free. It’s a choice they have to make, if they have evolved enough. Not even God can force a human to be free. That would just defeat the whole purpose. So whatever percentage of people are actually open to this-ten percent, twenty percent, fifty percent, whatever-we’ll find out. But if there is a really strong doubt and negativity, then it doesn’t surprise me that this transmission doesn’t have a chance. So right now we’re waiting to see the percentage of people that can become open to this type of transmission.

This is becoming an all-too-familiar gambit in Integral circles, that you have to be “evolved enough” to really grasp the truth of what Wilber claims. Furthermore, if Trivedi’s super spiritual transmission can’t transmit through doubt and negativity, then why even bother putting it through the rigors of scientific confirmation and peer review? Too bad we can’t all be like the open-minded plants that Trivedi has blessed into realignment with the new Earth Energy!

It’s not as if Trivedi is the first person on the block with supposed mystical super powers. What about John of God and Sathya Sai Baba? Many claims have been made, yet James Randi’s One Million Dollar Prize
for “anyone who can show, under proper observing conditions, evidence of any paranormal, supernatural, or occult power or event” has yet to be claimed.

Ken Wilber has contributed much to the advancement of integral, integrative, holistic approaches to life’s most intractable challenges. I don’t want to diminish that fact with this rant. But I’m frustrated. I’ve been trying to make the case to mainstream mental health professionals and health educators that Wilber’s work should be taken seriously. This is already an uphill battle, given the New Age label that is often associated with Wilber’s writing and his institute. But add to that the whole Wyatt Earpy episode, Wilber’s endorsements of ethically suspect individuals like Andrew Cohen and Marc Gafni, and now this latest Guruji head-scratcher, and I’m not sure I should be taking him seriously anymore.

Earth (Energy) to Ken: Please start making sense again!

[From Music.MyNC.Com]:

It’s certainly difficult to pinpoint exactly who Minor Stars is trying to be. But in all reality, it’s simple to see the band exceeds in being itself.

Looking at frontman Eric Wallen, one wouldn’t think there is a Duke University graduate school alum hidden beneath that mane of metal hair. In fact, Eric looks as if he was plucked straight out of the school of Zeppelin.

“I had a previous life path of being an electrical engineer,” Wallen explained.

“When it came time to graduate, all of my friends were applying to grad school because nobody really wanted to get a job. So I got into Duke on a full ride — couldn’t really say no — I came down here and pretty much knew immediately it wasn’t what I wanted to do.”

After graduating with a masters in electrical engineering, Eric turned down a cushy job to pursue a career in music. This led to a period of writing folk songs on his acoustic guitar and performing them on Franklin Street.

But hearing a single note from Minor Stars‘ debut full-length, Death of the Sun in the Silver Sea, anyone can recognize that the music Eric plays with drummer Matt McCallus and bassist Bob Dearborn is anything but folk. Rather, what he describes as psychedelic rock is an amalgamation of ’70s-era metal, early ’90s indie rock and post-hardcore.

“I used to be a metal kid — I know it’s hard to tell now,” Wallen joked. “Actually when I was a metal kid, I didn’t look like one at all.”

Wallen added, “From there … I listened to a lot more stuff from the ’60s and ’70s and then a ton of indie rock. It kind of evolved into that vein, then into this psychedelic rock, and kind of full circle, bringing back some of the old metal riffs.”

Standing behind a sea of pedals, Wallen achieves a level fuzz rarely heard from truly indie bands. The band is certainly heavy, but Minor Stars can’t be considered hardcore. And though at times soaring with three-part harmonies, Minor Stars can’t be considered indie pop.

Perhaps indie hardcore? No … just Minor Stars.

Setlist
Death of the Sun
Numbers Don’t Lie
Mirror
All Your Stars Out
Daydream
Silver Lining

These are the things that swirled through my head yesterday as I played around in the studio (I was pleasantly surprised I could play the instruments with only minor discomfort). I’ve also been thinking a lot about creativity, and how much I enjoy exploring a particular moment in time through music or writing. And my shoulder hurts like bloody hell, and it’s impossible to sleep for more than an hour at a time. Here’s what I recorded last night before fading out:

I was only 34 years old
when I thought I played my final show
But who was I to think I’d know when it was all over
I went away for 4 long years
and thought I conquered all my fears
But man you saw me shed those tears when it was all over
I got back up and hit the scene
to find out what it really means
The sleep ain’t always worth the dream when it’s all over
So many times the same old thing
I think I’m out but then I’m in
I thought I’d lost but I just might win

We watched it go under the bridge
There ain’t no sense denying it
And who’ll be left to give a shit when it’s all over
and said and done but I was never one to jump right in
but I might not see your face again
We can say goodbye or just say when

I’m trying to recall how many “last shows” I’ve played now. I’m pretty sure tomorrow will be my fourth. I remember like it was last month (it was actually two months ago) when I played my last last show. It was a Friday night at The Cave in Chapel Hill. We opened for Transportation (one of my all-time favorite local bands), who I’m sure were in fine form that night. Well, actually I’m not 100% sure, because I didn’t stick around for their set. Aside from being worn out from a draining work week, I was just not up for all the boozy-breath-stankin’ questions about why I was leaving the band. So I hitched a ride home, stuck my bass in the closet, and figured I might never again see the inside of a dive bar. Two months later, I’m getting ready to play another show, at a place actually called DIVEbar.

My wife has a job interview today. If they offer her the job, two months from now we’ll be moving to a town in Oregon 2842 miles away. If not, depending on other job offers, we might instead be heading to Pennsylvania, or Ohio, or West Virginia, or Tennessee, or Mexico. Of course, no job offers means we stay put for a while longer. Anything could happen. Who knows.

Come to think of it, the first rock concert I ever saw was on HBO in 1982. It was The Who’s “Farewell Tour,” and it was my introduction to rock and roll. To this day I still rock Who covers on the acoustic on a regular basis. Seven years after The Who’s last hurrah in ’82, I found myself at Giants Stadium in New Jersey cheering for my favorite rock band of all time — you guessed it, The Who. Funny how stuff like that happens. Anybody see the halftime show for this year’s Super Bowl? 28 freakin’ years after the old, washed-up geezers sang their supposed swan song, not only are they still alive (Okay, so only two of them are still alive) but they’re still performing as The Who. WTF?

So, after my last show tomorrow, I won’t be putting the bass in the closet. Minor Stars will be recorded and interviewed by a local TV station in early June. Technically that’s not a show, so I don’t think it will qualify as “Last Show #5.” But it might be the last time I play with Eric and Matt. It might be the last hurrah, the final farewell. Who knows…

Trouble weighs a ton(mp3)

Alive to the end(mp3)

I watched it with the volume muted, to keep up the appearance that I was working on the monthly accounting report. Eventually I did get to working on the report, and the day passed in an uneventful haze. A coworker gave me a ride home, which added about forty-five minutes of precious me-time to my evening. Once home, I decided to finally tackle the job of dismantling my condenser mic to figure out why it was no longer working properly. I was ready to give up more than once, but persisted in taking the mic apart then putting it back together, a process which miraculously resulted in the mic working once more like a charm. Relieved and self-satisfied, I headed off to bed, albeit a bit later than I would have liked.

As often happens, I popped awake at about 2am feeling restless and stiff. I fell into a meditative trance while loosening up my muscles with gentle, subtle micro-movements. After about twenty minutes of this, it happened. Again. A sense of clarity dawned on me so intensely that the last several months of waking life seemed like a coma by comparison. All the life issues I’ve been struggling with felt either completely resolved or else utterly unproblematic. I knew without a doubt what I needed to be doing with my life, how to refocus and realize my full potential and destiny. Part of this crystal clear life plan involved re-immersing myself in my study of Somatics and Integral Psychology, so I ran downstairs to look up a few books online. Flipping open my laptop I noticed a new email. It was from my father-in-law. He had written the obituary for his father, who has just passed away at the age of 94. I knew his father and felt a profound admiration for the man. When I married his granddaughter he gave me the honor of wearing and owning the wedding band he had worn on his finger throughout his more than fifty-year marriage to his wife, who had passed away a few years prior. Reading about the man’s long, full life made me feel even more intensely awake and committed to living my life full-throttle. I could hardly go back to bed at this point, so I picked up my guitar and began to strum a few chords. Within about thirty seconds a song idea came to me that promised to be my best ever creation. I quickly recorded the basic idea then jumped back in bed. It was about 3am by this time. Only an hour had passed, an hour I would normally spend dreaming and drooling.

This was not the first time I’ve caught a glimpse of crystal clear consciousness and I hope it won’t be the last. I knew it would fade. I knew the alarm clock would ring with cruel precision at 6am. I knew I’d have to drag myself through the day in a relative fog, and I knew that by the time I got home I’d barely have the presence of mind left to tap out a hasty blog post about the whole thing.

For whatever reason, I felt the need to post something on Twitter last night before I surrendered to unconsciousness:

I just woke up, as if from a coma of 10 years. Suddenly, everything is possible. Books, albums, written in my head. 3am. Back to sleep?

135 characters — five to spare… Life!