I tend to perceive noise music much in the same vein as abstract impressionist painting. Noise presents the listener with an imposing, seemingly impenetrable wall of chaos, but like any Jackson Pollack or Franz Kline, these pieces aren’t meant to be immediately consumed, digested and understood by a casual audience. Instead, they utilize the intimidating power of their cursory uniformity as a lens to discover intricacies within the piece.
Consider the use of samples in noise works much in the same way an artist would use magazine cut-outs or shredded photographs in their art. Also, consider what separates noise artists from people who make rote, unimaginative copies of pre-existing works in a vain attempt to score a quick buck or further a political cause.
You know, how every other nazi skinhead with an amp, a distortion pedal and a shitty tape recorder thinks they’re the next Masami Akita?
Oh lord, it’s another post speculating about the nature of existence. Pack up your bowls and bear with me.
Perhaps what we perceive to be “gods” in nature are emergent gestalt entities born of similar, complimentary thoughtforms.
Perhaps “thoughtform” is not an adequate term, inasmuch as other living creatures most likely do not “think” in the same manner as humans– but we mold our perception of their so-called “mental” behavior into forms and mannersims that easily relate to our own experiences. A tulip probably does not have a conscious or subconscious mind, but perhaps it possesses an internal “dialogue” about how it must react to the world around it, possibly as a byproduct of the transmission of its sensory data. Thus, there is some worth to the notion of “inherited memory” that tells plants when to move from a vegetative to flowering state– or that wild animals have instinctual knowledge not to eat particular bugs or plants. Feeling “god” in nature can probably be attributed to the act of experiencing the cacaphony of this unrestrained proto-mental traffic. This is not to say that the gestalt “godform” does not exist, but it is such a primitive conscious force that assigning names, dogmas and ideologies to it is a product of narrow-minded anthropocentricism. “The Forest” as a singular, conscious entity does not have opinions about human morality, finances or arbitrary dietary restrictions– but is instead primarily concerned with its own survival. It does not see the act of burning incense and ringing bells as a signal to confer wealth or luck on the hapless hippie performing these silly incantations. The most any of this sort of action can achieve through any manner of ritual is to make a subtle suggestion to the immediate nodes of the primitive consciousness that surrounds them that they do not wish to be perceived as a threatening entity. This attention can hardly be classified as the same thing as the cartoonish summoning of swirling cosmic vortices typical in Anime or comic books. Oh, sure, the Magicqkican will claim that only they can see these “energies” and that they’re quite real to the initiated– but this deliberate fuzzy thinking is (at best, anyway) a form of self-induced schizophrenia, no different from the gibbering masses at Benny Hinn revivals who swear they can see the holy spirit manifested in front of them.
The whole point of this is that if there are extra-dimensional beings out there, it’s incredibly arrogant to assume they’d take any form that’s in any manner comprehensible or understandable by humans. “It” isn’t even of this physical dimension!
Assuming there is any higher thought-form is taking a big leap, but that big leap involves considering other aspects: namely, this extra-dimensional 10th plane-of-existence being probably doesn’t have anything resembling “manners.” Hell, its “hello” might consist of frying your central nervous system– but “it” most likely doesn’t have any concept of how to hold a seminar, make videos or run a publishing company, which should speak volumes about the type of people who attempt to pass themselves off as human vessels for “alien entities.”
Look, if there is an extra-dimensional consciousness, you wouldn’t need some bum in a sparkly blue leotard to speak for it. It’d speak directly to you. The most you can do is realize that there’s going to be no way to relate your experiences to anyone else.