Archive for the ‘Robert Anton Wilson’ Category

On The Subject Of: Abstraction

March 28, 2007

Lust, Groucho:55, 6006 YD

Pablo Picasso was once present at a dinner where one guest loudly denounced modern art. Picasso ate quietly, saying nothing. Later, the same guest showed a wallet photo of his wife, and Picasso asked to look at it more closely. When it was handed over, Pablo stared at it intently and then asked innocently, “My God, is she really that small?”

excerpt fromThe New Inquisition by Robert Anton Wilson.

RAW Discusses Discordianism

March 21, 2007

Lust, Groucho:48, 6006 YD

Five Blind Men And An Elephant

February 16, 2007

Gluttony, Groucho:15, 6006 YD

by: Reverend Loveshade

One day five blind men, who knew nothing of elephants, went to examine one to find out what it was. Reaching out randomly, each touched it in a different spot. One man touched the side, one an ear, one a leg, one a tusk, and one the trunk. Each satisfied that he now knew the true nature of the beast, they all sat down to discuss it.

“We now know that the elephant is like a wall,” said the one who touched the side. “The evidence is conclusive.”

“I believe you are mistaken, sir,” said the one who touched an ear. “The elephant is more like a large fan.”

“You are both wrong,” said the leg man. “The creature is obviously like a tree.”

“A tree?” questioned the tusk toucher. “How can you mistake a spear for a tree?”

“What?” said the trunk feeler. “A spear is long and round, but anyone knows it doesn’t move. Couldn’t you feel the muscles? It’s definitely a type of snake! A blind man could see that!” said the fifth blind man.

The argument grew more heated, and finally escalated into a battle, for each of the five had followers. This became known as the Battle of the Five Armies (not to be mistaken for the one described by that Tolkien fellow).

However, before they could totally destroy themselves, a blind, self-declared Discordian oracle came along to see what all the fuss was about. While they were beating the crap out of each other, she examined the elephant. But instead of stopping after one feel, she touched the whole thing, including the tail, which felt like a rope. “It’s just a big animal with big sides, ears, feet, tusk teeth,
nose and a skinny tail,” she thought. “What a bunch of fools these guys are.”

She then said “Stop! I have discovered the truth. I know who is right.”

She being an oracle and all, they stopped and listened and said “tell us!”

“I have examined the elephant with mine own two hands,” she said, “and I find that you are all right.”

“How can this be?” they asked. “Can an elephant be a wall and a fan and a tree and a spear and a snake?” And they were sorely confused.

She explained “the elephant is a great Tree, and on this tree grow leaves like great Fans to give most wondrous shade and fan the breeze. And the branches of this tree are like Spears to protect it. For this is the Tree of Creation and of Eternal Life, and the Great Serpent hangs still upon it.

“Unfortunately, it is hidden behind a great Wall, which is why it was not discovered until this very day. It cannot be reached by normal means.

“However I, in my wisdom, have discovered a Most Holy Rope, by which the wall may be climbed. And if one touches the tree in the proper manner which I alone know, you will gain Eternal Life.”

They all became highly interested in this, of course.

She then named an extremely high price for her services (Eternal Life doesn’t come cheap), and made quite a bundle.

Moral: Anyone can lead blind men to an elephant, but a Discordian can charge admission.

A Conversation Between Sigismundo Celine And Sigismundo Celine

February 12, 2007

Pride, Groucho:11, 6006 YD

I am Sigismundo Celine, not the man in the moon.

But then he was the man in the moon. Earth was a distant light in the sky far, far away. Various famous Lunatics were gathered around explaining moon-logic to him. “You never get ‘outside’. What you call ‘outside’ is another part of ‘inside’. See?”

“Yes,” he said. “I have never experienced another human being. I have experienced my impressions of them. Even in sexual intercourse I did not, strictly speaking, experience the other: I experienced my experience of her.”

“Then the whole universe is inside my head?”

“But your head is inside the universe. How do you explain that?”

“Well, then, I must have two heads, so to speak. The universe is inside my actually experienced head, but that head and the universe itself must both be inside my head logically necessary conceptual head. Is that it?”

“Yes. My conceptual head contains the universe, or a model of the universe to be strictly precise, and inside the that model is the model of my conceptual head, which is of course also my experienced head.”

“Careful now. You’re building up to an infinite regress.”

“I can see that, but it must be because consciousness itself is an infinite regress. I think that explains coincidences.”

“Are you quite sure you know what you are saying?”

“Yes. A coincidence is an isomorphism between the contents of my conceptual head, outside the universe, and my experienced head, inside the universe.”

“And why would there be such an isomorphism?”

“Because, damn it, my two heads are really only one head. I’ve just separated them for logical analysis.”

“But how can your conceptual head, outside the universe, be your experienced head, inside the universe?”

“Because, because . . .”


“Because concepts are experiences, too. My conceptual head is experienced, and becomes my experienced head, whenever I think about mathematics or pure logic. Yes, by God. When I see a spotted dog, that is inside my experienced head, as Hume demonstrated. But when I think about the actual dog that creates the image in my experienced head, I must be expanding my conceptual head to include the actual dog, not the image of the dog. So the dog, and the rest of the universe, are actually in my conceptual head, not in my experienced head, which only has their images.”

“But then my experienced head is both inside and outside my conceptual head – which means it is both inside and outside my universe.”

“You’re still in the infinite regress.”

“I can appreciate that. By the way, am I talking to you or talking to myself?”

“Is there a difference?”

from The Widow’s Son by Robert Anton Wilson

Robert Anton Wilson Cosmic Meme-Orial

January 24, 2007

Lust, Chico:65, 6006 YD

Join Together at the Robert Anton Wilson Cosmic Meme-Orial
& Lasagna Levitation Celebration!

Hail Eris! All Hail Bob!

Celebrate the life, work and continued multi-dimensionality
of Robert Anton Wilson by joining us in a giant, jammin’
Translation Celebration and 8th Circuit Soiree!

. Reconnect with old friends. Make new, like-minded friends. Share ideas. Exchange email addresses. (It’s like the Internet, only in person.)
. Be a part of Bob’s Raucous Processionary Send-Off as his ashes sail out of the cove and rejoin his beloved’s in the Pacific!
. Watch continuous video clips of RAW from “Maybe Logic” documentary and from his numerous Trajectories videos.
. Expand your mind (and your tummy) with hors d’ourvres, soft drinks, and a cash bar.
. Expand your neighbors’ minds by sharing remembrances and anecdotes at the open mic! (Brevity and levity are appreciated!)
. Mingle, nosh, remember, appreciate, celebrate!
. And above all, Keep the Lasagna Flying!


Where: The Cocoanut Grove, on the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk in Santa Cruz, CA:
When: Sunday, February 18, 2007
Time: 1 – 6 PM
Tickets: $23 each
Limited number available! To purchase tickets, or for additional


Q: How can I help kick out the jams?
A: Contribute to the media presentation. Forward photos of Bob or other creative visual remembrances that relate to RAW and his work. Your images will be included in a projected media presentation for all to enjoy. Please email your .jpegs (300-600 dpi) to no later than February 11th. Please consider contributing even if you can’t be there in person.

Q: Is it always sunny in California?
A: Not in February, Chester. It’s winter, and it can get DANG cold at the ocean. If you plan to play outside, dress for CHILLY weather and you will be fine and toasty.

Q: I’m coming from a long way away. Can I crash at your place?
A: Umm… not really. Click here to search for lodging in Santa Cruz County:

Q: I’m sorry…I spaced. Where did you say this was again?
A: The Cocoanut Grove is a famous ballroom attached to the Santa Cruz, CA, Beach Boardwalk (which is celebrating its centennial this year). Boardwalk arcades and amusement park rides (including the Giant Dipper, regularly voted one of America’s Top 10 Rollercoasters) are open from 11am to 6pm Saturday, Sunday and Monday for the President’s Day Holiday! All Hail Thomas Jefferson! Impeach Bush!

Q: So what is there to do before/after the ceremony?
A: If you’ve never communed with the redwoods, visit Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park, just minutes up the road! Or enjoy one of Santa Cruz’s fine restaurants (Bob loved the Golden Buddha in Soquel, for instance).

Original Link

Feast Of St.Bob

January 18, 2007

Envy, Chico:59, 6006 YD

This being the date of birth of the revered Discordian saint, St. Bob the Irreverent, we take today to celebrate his life, death and zeal for guerilla ontology – go out and argue about E-Prime with a cabbage!

Hail Eris!

Hail St.Bob!

RAW Eulogy

January 16, 2007

Greed, Chico:57, 6006 YD

Episkopos Cain posted this eulogy for Robert Anton Wilson on his blog.

No News Is . . . ?

January 12, 2007

Gluttony, Chico:53, 6006 YD

Bob has been dead for over 24 hours, and not a word has popped up on about it, but have no fear – the real news is still being reported: it has been confirmed, Cameron Diaz and Justin Timberlake have broken up.


January 11, 2007

Envy, Chico:52, 6006 YD

Robert Anton Wilson, writer, philosopher, guerilla ontologist, stand-up comedian, checked out from Sol-3 this morning, and word from our agents on the ‘other side’ is that he is currently inundating YHVH (a.k.a “Yahweh”, “Jehovah”, “Frankie No-Thumbs”) with a complicated list of overly-detailed questions.

Hail Eris.

illustration by Antony Hare

Goddess Bless You, Mr. Wilson!

January 3, 2007

Lust, Chico:44, 6006 YD

Thanks to Smug Hank, the Baron now holds in his grubby paws a copy of the long sought after, but never found “Masks Of The Illuminati” by Robert Anton Wilson. I’m maybe half way through at the moment, and so far seems to be one of his best – I certainly wish I had gotten ahold of this little book around this time last year, so that I could have saved myself the trouble of all that GD nonsense . . . the book is packed with tidbits to ponder and chew on.

If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up.