Rant

My Problem With Psychology

Psychology is a field that tries its hardest to teach us the intricacies of the individual and social human brain and how it works. In order to do this psychology has several avatars, several totem polls around which the witch-craft of its practice unfolds. Many of these totems are ancient trees with there trunks well-connecting to a period way before Freud ever came upon a man with a pen in his mouth. Many of these are more recent and sociological, some are behavioral. Some are so engrained in the mesh between society and person that you cant split them apart. Lecan, Jung, Freud, Skinner, Milgrim all join together to create a forest. And in this forest of many trees, an eerie event unfolds. Many times one sees the same animals in its wood but from different angels. To this effect you can practice the observation of the forest with a deck of Tarot cards, or a coin flip. It does not matter how you get to the forest....once you are aware that you can summon it into existence whether by yourself or with another, you can examine it. Many have realized this and built whole pharmaceutical industries on the vampiric observations they made and the ideologies they spit back at those about whom they made there generally assumptive assertions. This is what  I call the "reflection industry" which spits YOU back at YOU. Its in self help books, job titles (which make you think your position is an honorific),  Facebook personalty questions, and even in reality TV shows. What better way is there to assert who you are, they to bombard you with the other, that which you are not. You are not the women with 1000 kids on a TV show, or honey Boo Boo's mom. You are better then them.....hey thats you in a nutshell. You like blue....long walks on the beach, and even though you had a baby at 17, you are not a typical Teen Mom. Russian immigrants thank god they arent blacks ("they just climbed down from trees you know"...."we got jobs"), and blacks thank god they are not honkies. We are swallowing a culture in which who we are is a mix defined  between what we label ourselves as, and what we are not. This culture is emergent becasue we live in a schizophrenic world and are thus mentally unstable for it. Psychology, and science pertaining to medicine in general, acts like a solution, an aloe for the burn that is our complex social structure. THIS IS A LIE. Psychology is evil, not in any Scientology way or becasue aliens form EXRON 5 are behind it in an attempt to control humanity. Psychology is evil because it exists as a tool for us to replicate culture. Replicate society exactly as it is . So that the people with agency or authority keep it, and those without it have to stumble through the refuse of those who have it, for an attempt to gain it. Psychology like many other things, such as media etc reinforces class, racial and other labelesque boundaries. It pretends not too, and all of its experiments point to a falsely constructed, capitalistic end point. A progressive pinnacle, as if human health and spiritual well being is improved by the technological and sociological progress of man. Mans emotional happiness in not based on fancy space toys, and ginormous entities like the UN. Men pray for rain and healthy children and crops. Culture is often the enemy lieing about what we truly pray for, putting the thoughts of the many.....and presenting it to the individual as the thoughts of the one. This can be good and bad, depending on how the individual sees himself in the universe and whether he has a self thats goal oriented, or if he is stimulus oriented and controlled by the wills and desires and energies around him, constantly at their whim. (Fig 1). Psychology masquerades as help, but unknowingly is to does harm.

We have all of these experiments,  which point to the awful things man is capable of doing to each other and to himself, and what drives mans actions for good or for bad. They apparently tell us "hey we are all in this together". "Don't shock the man at the other end of the wire", "dont acts like a dick just because you are a prison guard", "dont assume others will help the little old lady being mugged". We are all one happy family. We can all be good normal humans.....KOOOMBIA MY LORD. BUT WHAT IS NORMAL? Certainly those with downs syndrome are not normal. Dyslexia is not normal. OCD, ADD, Bulimia all not normal. Those are abnormal. Or at best subnormal. FUCK THAT

THERE IS NO NORMAL. You are just as human as the homeless lunatic, or the aspie in your class. That drummer who fails to catch social cues is normal, he just has a condition others dont....a set of behaviors. Denoting a set of behaviors for the actual person, is called otherhood. It means you are labeling them and othering them. It takes away their agency and their free will; especially if they self inflict a name onto themselves in which they do not believe. This is what you do when you try to help normalize people. You are just comparing them to the herd, a fake algorithm, an entity which doesn't exist. It is an ideal, a pinnacle in a capitalist self replicating construct towards which all must strive. FUCK THAT

You might as well electrocute people who get answers wrong. We have made virtually no progress, we just now use the balm presented to cure social discomfort as a cream to cause social irritation. Hey it will sting....but thats just the toxins of who you are, leaving our social body.....now confirm.

Fuck That

If you think you are so free from this, watch the next commercial for someone with diarrhea or aids or ED. Hey how can you have a sunny bathtub day, without the rock hard dick and the cholesterol  free blood vessels? You cant....you either have to be "healthy" or take this or do this....and give us money

FUCK That

If we looked at healthy people and sick people in the same light, sick people wouldn't need all this shit we sell them. But we dont, sick people need to buy things to be more like us. Psychology is evil....because it is capital....supply and demand.....no matter how artificial...no matter how cruel.

Fuck That 

Retarded people have sunny days too, you pretentious turds, Probably when others just accept their "abnormalities" for traits and not features that define who they are.  

DO I NEED TO QUOTE TYLER FUCKING DURDEN HERE?

You are not your paycheck
You are not you obsessive compulsive disorder
and if you think you are healthy, then you fallen into the trap; which states that there is a set way to be healthy.

FUCK THAT
Don't sell me sunshine in a pill, if you assume i have never seen the sun before
Fuck YOU

The nature of psychology implicitly creates categorizations, it implicitly divides.....becasue it is implicitly evil in it current Dr/Client form.

Fuck the cognitive dissonance, which Shrinks push down your throat. The lexicon of orthodoxy. The doxy of materialism incarnated in hope and dream.  

And for those of you, who are in the industry and think, this doesn't apply to you,
FUCK YOU
Whether your observing Milgrim, or participating in, it does not matter.
If you support a system with out at least acknowledging that you support it, then you are factious.

And even if you are date entry clerk at an out patient facility, by participating in the system, you are helping replicate it.

I am not asking you to stop, but i am asking you to acknowledge.....its the first step

 I KNOW WHAT I DID WHEN I WORKED FOR WALMART....do you know what you are doing?


Need I mention Nazis and just following orders or following an ideology blindly.

Don't let anyone put a schism between who you are and anything. These schisms are what cause schizophrenia.....same Latin root.
You are one with the world and all in it....its not a contest....least of all with yourself

"Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law"

dont let anyone tell you or anyone you care for otherwise.

least of all these quacks we call Psychologists

Scenes from a Belltower Reunion

What's the matter with my sense of perception
"Can't we just agree to disagree.
Why do you have to be so insulting?

Raping me cognitively.
I guess you haven’t heard of dissonance honey?
You can't afford culture till you’re making that money."
Everybody's talking' bout the new found freedom
Funny, They sound black and white to me

So you disagree with the thought I am thinking?
I am sorry it wasn’t argued logically
Why should I adhere to a thought system
Trying to assimilate me in orthodoxy.
Nowadays you can't be too sentimental
Cause progress and money should be driving your mental
New Age, from an ancient Page, or the saying’s of a drunken sage
It’s still black and white to me

Oh, it doesn't matter how our culture has progressed
'Cause it's always been the same old scene.
Every hipster has a “new thought”, buddy
That you can’t find in scripture or a magazine.
And argues both Old man and TEEN

How about we just dub it dumb pseudoscience
Or then add, that it has no practical reliance?
"You could really be a real man of defiance
If you just give the archaic alliance half a chance
Don’t waste your time reading pre gurgled doxy,
Your thoughts are legit, even if you’re ODing on an Oxy."
Ayn Rand, take a stand, agree with Russel Brand, anyways
You’re sound black and white to me

oohhh

What's the matter with the language I am using?
"Don't you know that my white grammar is bad?"
Should I try to change my form of expression?
So I don’t make the policeman mad.
Do you know about comics, poems and graffiti
Or are do you believe those forms of writing too seedy."
Catch Phrase, Meme Phase, the ramblings of a drug Craze
You’re still black and White to me.

Everybody's comparing old and new thought baby
But, you sound black and white to me.

To SB

To be beset by black and white
And to be made to choose
And in such choice not lose to grey
Nor to sink to all the blues
To glitter Silver like the moon
Or golden like sun
But do try, not to shine too bright
Or they'll take away your fun

Remove Your 'For Sale' Sign From Upon My Property

How can I put this in a way

That you will understand?

You’re like a surveyor

Except you don’t look at the land.

You read what the tabloid said

And you just went with it.

When other people asked you to stop

You wouldn’t quit it

In fact, you came to see the land

With your mind all made up

Quick to believe that it was all just

Part of a setup.

Even brought a recording device

With a preset DVD

Of some shit about me

You probably heard on TV

You never looked at the property

You just looked at AD

And blindly choose to accept

That this property was bad

You asked me to honest

But couldn’t handle the truth

And then you pried to hear certain words

Just like a sluthe

I told you, it needed repair

But that not what you wanted to hear

So you ignored me,

As if I was not even there.

I never said that the property

Needed to be torn down

But the little I said

Conflicted with your crown

I told you a castle right now

Was just out of the picture

So you proceeded to act

Like I was a Dick, Sir

Excuse me one moment

But remember I let you borrow my hammer

And remember how many times

We used to talk in that suburban slammer

I gave you a tool,

Hoping to see you create

But you easily frustrate

And so you choose to destroy

My intentions were pure

But you got wound up like a toy.

So don’t get mad at me homie.

You judged a book

By the cover

And choose to be a hater

Instead of a lover.

I never sold anything bad

In all of my life

I might have used a few gimmicks

But I claim that right.

Being dishonest isn’t like

Being deceitful

One earns you a coffin

The other a sequel

When one explains what they know

They sell in a certain sense

You asked for advice

And I gave no pretense

But when you heard what

I had to say, you

Put me in past tense.

Acted like I dimed you out

But I just gave my 2 cents.

Your current realtor buddy

Is the devil in drag

Don’t mistake

The horns of Satan

And those of a stag.

He was once my mentor

And he guided me properly

But he mistook me for a house

Like I was just one his properties.

Thought he sold me a roof

So he would become my master

But homies full of themselves

Always meet ego-disaster.

And don’t get mad

And come to my door

Trying to compare dick sizes

His once was bigger then mine

But my “son” also rises

His moon has set

Beyond his horizon

But he went looney

Cause the tides

Are not empathizing

He lost his sway

He lost his way

He thinks his journey ended

But he only reached the bronze

While I transcended

For the gold pendant.

So now you put

A For-Sale sign

Upon my property

But that not how

You leave home properly.

I would have forgiven you

If you had just build sloppily

Nobody cared that your walls were wobbly.

We have all built houses before

Some of us floppily.

We took the good with the bad

And drew open the gates

To the community

But you were shamed of your house

So you withdrew from our unity.

And you’ve became a pawn

Your realtor’s commodity

And fulfilled you worst fear

By fulfilling your own self prophecy. 

You got yourself twisted

By following pride

But the grass is always greener

On the other side.

Where art

Where art

When art

How art

my stinky one

The one i really miss

whose mouth and breasts

and ideas
I've always longed to kiss

For long, We have no contact

and tis really a shame

for what is love is sweet like you

by any other name.

Most ones wont understand you

the way i get your jibe

but i when i did not hear from you

i felt a nasty vibe

but peace and understanding
was all i hoped to bring

and i never want to claim you out

from me you'll get no ring.

But time like you- A mistress

is one i cant endure

and so i want to know when

I can even up the score.

and see your pretty face again

walking through my door.

I heard the food is spicy down in Mexico

but i just want you to cum home

so i can eat your taco.

He to Whom the Bow Belongs

Of All the Psychic Mystic Fools,

That Lie and Cheat and Rarely Tell the Truth

The Ones That Guess the Future Best

Are Those Destined to Foot the Boot.

It Matters Not the Size of Shoe

This Tells Them Not O Where They Step

Nor Color, Texture, Hue, Expense, or Model,

Can Make an Ignorant Man Hep

Previous Roads are Often Thought,

When Sought are Explanations of Depth

But Breadth is Breath,

In Moments Death

For What Makes Man Believe in Cards

And Zodiac and Leaves of Tea

Is not the Magic So Suppressed

But tis the Trick that was set Free.

Magician and Poet, Both Can Impress

Upon the Tabula Rosa Mind

By Catching Patterns Others Miss

Linking Mind with Mind and Kind with Kind

But Neither Artist can Impress

Or Catch A Pattern So Forgot

As He to Whom the Bow Belongs

For he Knows Best his Arrows Shot.

And He Who Dwells on Targets Missed

Or Fortunes Lost, Never To-Be Foretold

Or Rabbits that Died in the Hat

Or the Fact that Old People Get Old

Tis he who Looks Back Upon The Moon

Afraid to Face A Rising Sun

Who Knows Which Road He Will Soon Take

His Own Predictions Often Stun

For No Magician Can Prepare

To Lose On Stage His Magic Hat

Except The One Who Wants His Trick To Be

How He Can Never Find Where Its At.

What Hurts Me Worst
Is While I Hurt
I See You Feel No Pain
And Wonder If It’s Sweet Song
Is Still In Your Refrain

Or If It Ever Even Was
Or If It Can Be.

While Half Of “We”
Is Sad With Grief
It Shows A Morbid Face
The Other Half
Shows No Face At All
Its Soul Has Been Erased.

There's only Darkness Now

___________________________________________________

To Emperor Empathy

A part of Joe Rossi cut away, never to return.

A longing for magnetic life, it can no longer earn.

It was cut unprofessionally, by she no longer there,

Who was to drunk, to boast too loud about how, she could cut hair.

We passed it by so many times, as life will do to us.

Never asking how it was, or kicking up a fuss.

 Dead skin amongst disjointed words, on the doorway of food.

It brightened up the house decor, it empathized the mood.

And while in death it hung there unafraid, upon the acrylic white,

Many toasts were made nearby, to its host’s inevitable life.

With part of him already dead, and not too far away,

We toasted to a lasting life, where he not stir or fray.

And though in life, he seldom did appear inside the kitchen cage.

And wine and spirit rarely did rouse his quite rage.

In death he hung there long and proud, as many men should be.

For though stuck under a magnet, a part of him was free.

Yesterday, a drunken stopper, for which he did attend,

Disrupted and put his peace at an untimely end.

And though still living, I will mourn, for the part of him that dead,

That little peace of Rossi, plucked from Rossi's head.

Since then, what man, has Joe become...he is making 40k

But still I wish for long forgotten days when his brown hair would sway.

Either upon his living head, or dead though it may be.

I always wish, Joe Rossi could be in life as free.

To just hang in the kitchen with friends as men so often do.

To feel a lot more brown-on-white, and a little less blue.

So Dennis please discard this "trash" with most uprearing care,

For many men store their whole lives, in their dead chunks of hair

And PS (And Rossi I've been in your head, and as full as it may be, I often find the rooms in there are not that cluttery).