Ubermind Uber Alles

by practicalspactical

Mass psychology. Group rights. The Rule of the Mob, and the Individual, the Unit, as a deficient organism in our 2nd Level Biosphere. Memes, and Ideas, and spheres, and the Ego shrinks as the Superego grows, the Superego being the Mediator, the Filter, the Frame, the Master of the Face, the Eater and the Disgorger of our Social Selves.

Think of all these non-famous people — aware of the wider world but unable to effect — a certain powerlessness there — an anxiety and fear that history will eat us up and chew us out with none the wiser — fed back into the soylent green machines quicker and quicker —

And even now — we live in this digital soup — where all information is quickly going flat — horizontal — and vertical history just becomes one more component of horizontal culture — the shared living space (cultural lebensraum) of All Now Living, with the Ghosts having a derivative say as well through their descendants, biological and spiritual. Or are Ghosts now simply also funneled down into the great Culturepool, the Well of Mimir, from which god-children seeking wisdom go drink and gambleĀ limbs.

It’s going faster now. Accelerating. The 2nd Derivative — the Rate of Change of the Rate of Change. Faster. Blinking. Miss it. Business plans. Projections. White hospital rooms, and hospices, and then the new class, mewling and squealing are the words used to describe it.

Sharing this world. This space. The Sharespace. The Set. The Possibility Set. Possible Worlds. All Possible Worlds. Heterotopia. What is this blog? A Whiteboard? A Mindmap? Thought, Extrusion.

I am an individual, with a small amount of individual thoughts and ideas, my private space that is still left to me, but most most most of me has been mortgaged off and sold to Civilization, which has allowed me to even be here. What do I owe Civilization for life? What is the term of my servitude? At what point can I go back to being an animal, scratching for my own food? (well, would I want that? Seems like a shitty job — though its nice to walk beneath the trees)