Archives for category: psychology

Prisoner No. 12 watches a video where the Architect of Our Dear Penitentiary meets with one of the spiritual leaders from around his way, around his day.

Architect: Believe me, I love business, I really do. Business is pleasing when it is booming. But there is something disgusting about business that is desperate. The frantic efforts of your cohort is hardly respectable, one invariably wishes to turn the eye away from their unsightly products. Diarrhea can be nice when it is just metaphorical but this is raw. Your mates in the religio-spiritual sector of our precious life are so desperate to match every spiritual concept with a discovery in science most notably, human biology. What is that?! Ooh..the correlations do have appreciable degree of truth about them but what is all this desperation about? Can’t these teachings stand alone and be benefited from in their own right without running under the armpit of science? Do you need a protector so much? Business that is not daring, dependent, saying “these people eat tomatoes so I’ll bring them tomato juice” is just distasteful. All you are doing is trying to make use of science to your ends, yes, commendable, but do you reckon the amount of damage you do your own ward when you oversimplify it? Be better businessmen, man, and quit with your sniveling. I like a businessman who can create his own market.

For me, I take your correlations simply as metaphors, nothing more.


Prisoner No. 12 finds a caption in the photo album of the Architect of Our Dear Penitentiary where he is doing the bolero. Stork-standing, No. 12 reads;

Architect: Most people like to wield the words, paradox and contradiction, when they do not even know what the ‘p’ and the ‘c’ mean. They are unworthy to wield the swords of Reason. Step to the side and quit your shenanigans before you impale yourself on your own sword. This is not childs play.

They like to denounce “paradox!”, “contradiction!” as if the propositions made are totally untrue when the issue is their presentations are improper. The duty then, for the audience and author or orator, is to find the proper presentation and hence clearer, that is, more delimited conception of the ideas and their their relations in the proposition. This is better behavior fitting for an adult feeling more responsibility for the Universe he finds himself in and much more for the many children who will weep for a morsel of mental clarity and clarity deserts the world and leaves their external conditions dire. Far better than just denouncing “paradox!” and “contradiction!” whose purpose is to mask the more pestilential “impossible!” like some dictators I know. Such behavior betrays laziness Or fear of the task OrĀ  incompetence also known as stupidity Or because some gray beard sanctioned it. *Scoff* I wish I could spit their essence from my mouth! I cannot refuse to mention it for they are here and their position requires critique before the infect everybody. Even if they didn’t exist, I still would tackled the possibility. Yes, I would.

No. 12: What he is talking here is a manifesto for a certain type of person. It isn’t for everybody. And he cleverly disguises that in his ending sentences, that is, after he scoffs at his perceived opponents.


Prisoner No. 12 has been abnormally quiet four days now. Officer is worried but from time to time, he hears laughs from there and he has this blank stare in his eyes. He’s coiled on the floor in the shape of a mollusc; he’s not eaten all these days, it may be surmised this contortion is influenced by the form of his bowel currently. He’s so absorbed in those tapes recorded by the Architect of Our Dear Penitentiary, or is it his photo album?

Architect: The way I see it is this – Socrates was not a man after knowledge, he was after ultimate knowledge. That’s what he was looking for and he never stopped. He wanted irrefutable truth but failed in his search. In this, he forgot something that was the doubtless the cause of his failure: his own ingenuity. Socrates could and would strive to examine any point and prove it moot. He did this by always opening up every viewpoint he was audience to. Had he left them alone to stand, he might have discovered it but he so obsessively oped all. In truth, one should say he should never have searched for them at all.

The effect of an encounter with Socrates can be likened to that with the HIV. That virus unlocks the security system of the body and leaves open for any attack to lay it waste. Socrates does similar arguments.

This chase for ultimate truth have I experienced before. It was born in a boy not even adolescent. Relentlessly did he search it out but then he hit the snag that hits everyone who goes too far: he died. That there was no ultimate truth killed the boy, he died in my arms. This boy was none other than my father. He died on his 20th birthday when I was but 7. From him, I learned the saying “I know nothing, nobody does, and that is my wisdom”. It was after this I discovered Socrates said the same thing. Even the method he usually used was much like Socrates’. Besides, both were largely vagabonds. I realized then that it was not just two disparate events, it was one type of man. That was my father, he chased knowledge and died on its pike, advising me not to emulate. I understood those last words affirming ignorance and they keep me creating with abandon as an Architect. That is the soul of my work, my fathers soul.

However, keeping the light of Truth burning above ones house provides the fuel that drives any expedition. For Truth is inexorable and thus, one keeps working, one keeps discovering, one grows beyond the limits of the fathers. Ultimate truth is one great abstraction and a shape-shifter at that.

Unlike my father, my work is not destructive but productive. And though I use my fathers functionalism, I do not share his indifference, almost distaste, for beauty, as can be seen in this spectacular Penitentiary I have built.

All in all, my father was a good man, I wish to see him again today although his face is in every single artifact of mine.


Prisoner No. 12 has been fasting two days straight now. He’s been running on water all this while and has been listening to the Architect of Our Dear Penitentiary:

The only way the world can be changed is by understanding it first. Some miss the point of this and are impatient to change the world with their meager understandings. Others get this point too much and keep exploring and understanding, never progressing to the next for their work to be of any material significance. My father was a distinct example of the latter type. I have the same trait to an equal or greater degree and it is the reason I rather take to building than anything that can have significant, almost cataclysmic, impact on the world.


Prisoner No. 12 listens in on the program Officer watches in the corridor on his little device. A little girl mentions ‘brain’ while her male playmate says ‘mind’ when they speak. No. 12 scribbles in his hand some thoughts. One wonders how much can go onto the limited space of a palm, won’t he have to write over what he writes? Layers of words:

The matter of consciousness or mind as an epiphenomenon of the brain stemsĀ  from the perspective assumed. The believers in this theory are mainly materialists who cannot accept the existence of something they cannot perceive through their 5 senses. For the most part, this matters little until they posit that it therefore means that mind is not real. It always beats me that they can somehow accept the validity of their percepts which are operations of mind but not mind itself. Why accept the skin but the animal? Is it just a matter of convenience or a valid limitation of perceptive scope?

A basic and universally accessible example is Memory. Memory founds much of what we call Consciousness and especially volitional thinking or rationality. A man like Paul Sollier pioneered quite adeptly in this area and his work shows the premium placed on materialism. That changes occur at the cell membranes of neurons in memory and so forth; theories still very alive today albeit varied. What they suggest is failing this theory, they will start to call on explanations involving webs across space invisible to the naked eye connected into our brains that keep us in tune with the cosmos. This is especially so because they will wish to circumvent the issue of the extraordinarily indubitable accuracy of imagination whose examples abound in Astronomy and Leonardo da Vinci. All in an attempt to tell us that mind or consciousness is not real but its products, the sensible things, are.


Prisoner No. 12 is lent one of the tapes of the Architect of Our Dear Penitentiary by Officer. Owing to his ban from the library, this is the only way he can get access to the tape. They were tapes he recorded as journals, from what No. 12 hears; they were extemporaneous but no one believes that. Anyway, Architect has such a drag in his speech like someone who is perpetually dreaming, it is impossible to not notice. In truth, it is a good clue to go on but don’t people ignore the possibility of the impossible:

Any true philosopher, that is, one who is honest with himself, will end up having to change for the sake of the philosophy he creates. It happens because he makes the philosophy not for himself but for the society (town, city, state, world). To do this, he has to efface himself and take into account the myriad factors that allow propriety, that is, promote the continuity of the society. Unless he wishes not social participation for himself, he has to change on account of this philosophy. It thus ceases to be a personal philosophy – even though it is always going to be personal due to he being the originator – and becomes social.

It is important not to forget that any social philosophy eventually involves individual philosophy for it is among the myriad factors of society. Philosophy is nothing easy.

This I think is AN acme of love. The philosopher loves so much that he seeks to improve his relation with others (as a unit) and loves others so much that he seeks to improve their relations with each other. Also the philosopher loves individuals (himself included) so much that he gives them more to do, makes it difficult, to participate in society. And difficulty always works the same: unless there is loss of hope, effort is put in to endure the distressing situation. And as the level of difficulty is approximated by the persons abilities, the person improves – this is simply called Adaptation.

Philosophy is nothing easy.


Prisoner No. 12 encounters a portrait of the Architect of Our Dear Penitentiary watching two dogs fight, with the signature caption to the right side of the picture. It reads:

The point to cultural relativism was to not “throw the baby out with the bathwater” but this has been missed evidently. Cultural relativism is supposed to even out the landscape so every culture is appreciated for its own value. Something like a bazaar or a buffet really – a linear arrangement from primitive to advanced or evil to good helps only partially. By this, it is possible for one to pick out what is best or what is good in one culture and synthesize or integrate it with ones own. This obviously presents challenges because as soon as an encultured person judges, he prejudges so can best really be best? This presupposes that globalization which is a force for progressively increasing the spectrum of life viewed by whole man will be slow, that is, given all this resistance. Withal, it will happen given that man is such an impressionable creature and if not all of a culture, some of a culture will be attracted. And if they are not voluntarily, they will be involuntarily and this is usually the case where it is a matter of life or death of that particular resisting culture.

A lot of the time, you find the misunderstanding in a culture declining to learn anything from a foreign culture because of cultural pride whose purpose is laudable but practice is folly. This seems to me to be a conscious undermining of ones peoples potential, and a concerted effort to stay in the stark ignorance of the dark side of Pluto. What is that?!

For now, cultural relativism as a force will go through this misunderstood stage so that each people is aware of the intrinsic value to each culture just so in the future, the syncretism of globalization may take place.

It seems like one of the most basic tricks in business – “save for now, expand later” – doesn’t it?

There are many relativisms going round in the world today. This presupposes certain changes in the future which I am happy to predict but may not be a part of; I don’t know my lifespan. These changes I must say are pleasing to the entirety of being. What was once just a hope seems to be taking shape. Some are already in the synthetic stage, most are coming into the relativistic stage. No worries, relativism becomes a dominant perspective and this is agreeable.

And don’t ask me what is beyond the synthetic stage you dog! *guffaw* *guffaw*


Prisoner No. 12 watches from the yard as the pod falls from the tree in the distance. He turns, walks 5 paces to the right, 4 paces to the left, turns around in the direction of the tree again and launches into one of his soliloquys:

Mostly, hyper-individualism responds to hyper-individualism. It is an attitude that responds to tyranny. The boy goes off completely on his own and is hateful of anything that resembles his father – doctrines, attitudes, even just the critical attitude irks him. Interestingly, the father fears his sons tyranny too. In actual fact there is nothing like that there, it is only a lack of consciousness of other areas of oneself or plain hubris that wishes to be solely praised. Because the father does not see the possibilities, he rejects his sons aims. He believes it is impossible to do what he has not seen before or what he does not believe. It betrays a lack of belief in himself, notwithstanding the appalling faithlessness in his own son, for it is he who raised that son; was his influence that bad to raise him this weak? The son also becomes a hyper-individualist, continuing the line unconscious of actually resembling his father and contradicting himself.. haha.. how risible! haha.. how human!

It seems it is Change which is of the Gods after all, not vain immutability or intransigence.


Prisoner No. 12 receives a new letter from his latest correspondent that expresses a profound helplessness. He remarks to himself, “how a man falls! From the high tones of the last time we met to this” then he shakes his head. He looks at the terrain that trudges slow across his skin with indifference then smiles. He proceeds to reply the hearty letter.

Prisoner No. 12: “The meaning of life is to live it.

Asking about the meaning of life will only lead to an infinite regress – one will ask the meaning of each and every meaning we get. This occurs by the very nature of the process that asks. What meaning are you looking for? Is it not a grand consequence? It can’t be any other for as soon as you ask the meaning of life, you include the people and things around you.

While we are here, our actions have meanings. They determine who lives or dies, who is happy or sad, who is hungry or fed, who is sick and healthy. We have our own functions to judge us while we are here. Our own functions – thought, emotion and sense – ask us for justificatory answers.

The only reason that question of the meaning of life has any meaning at all is context. There is a limit to how many – and various – questions can be asked at any time. Should all the questions possible – remember, simple and complex (from a combination of simple ones) questions – raise their voice, we will not get that question of meaning. All will eventually cancel themselves out and what results? Silence. We might say then that the meaning of life is Silence but what does Silence do. It accepts. And so, the questions resume and we answer them one at a time. In the end, it is a process of answering the questions posed by our experience.

Why should meaning be answered this way? Because the question does not ask of one side of the human experience but the whole. As such, the whole human experience must be answered with the greatest justice impossible – you become the court and they go against each other.

Also, the question is answered not by any particular method believed to be trustworthy for such belief is just another that tells us there is some meaning somewhere. By such ‘trust’, it is rendered all-powerful and thus, stands above justice – all roads lead to it, “where do I lead to?”, it asks of itself now.

As your father, the architect of our dear penitentiary liked to say, “look to the Cartesian plane, it is all you quest o dear acolyte”.

My advice is to find that question which is most raucous in you. If it is the meaning of life, well, that’s your unfortunate genetics or fate or whatever fancy name they got for it out there. Go ahead and find it but along the way, you will have to stay alive to find it, therefore, in the end, you will live. If necessity is not enough or looks foolish, know that the other questions are there waiting for a listening ear. Can I poke out my tongue, is it tactless in such delicate matter, o brother..”

No. 12 puts the folded paper to his chest and wishes it the best of luck in unlocking another heart.


(As the others are out in the yard and he’s on his own, leaning against his cells bars)

Prisoner No. 12: Will is a funny thing. No sooner than it has made its move does it regret its move. The myth of the paradox of Will.