CXL: Screve Condareve

 

We’re All Romans And We’re All Correct

 

“If the Venutians are not scufflers we’re screwed.

That’s it man.  There’s nobody to schlep around anymore.  It’s amazing how equality, equality (and we hear it and we hear it);  so who suffers then?  

Status symbol? A nurse is on the low end of the spectrum.”

The Great Party

 

“I am a very dangerous person. Again, my very efforts to produce a solution are alarming because they so blatantly fail. My failure is the failure of all mankind (to find a solution or explanation). The fault is not mine.

I can say no more. What I have done may be good, it may be bad. But the reality that I discern is the true reality; thus I am basically analytical, not creative; my writing is simply a creative way of handling analysis. I am a fictionalizing philosopher, not a journalist; my novel and story writing ability is employed as a means to formulate my perception. The core of my writing is not art but truth. Thus what I tell is the truth, yet I can do nothing to alleviate it, either by deed or explanation.  Yet this seems somehow to help a certain kind of sensitive troubled person, for whom I speak.  I think I understand the common ingredient in those whom my writing helps: they cannot or will not blunt their own intimations about the irrational, mysterious nature of reality, and, for them, my corpus of writing is one long ratiocination regarding this inexplicable reality, an investigation and presentation, analysis and response and personal history. My audience will always be limited to these people.”

“I am currently of the opinion that (1) there is a connection between original authentic Christianity through Gnosticism to Heidegger; and (2) that 2-3-74 was this particular experience; viz: the inauthentic state that Heidegger describes is the "thrown-ness" into the "fremd" that Gnosticism describes; there follows, then, a series of dire transformations by the

"thrown into the alien world" person trying to cope; I comprehend this as flight and evasion from fate (heimarmene), which is a sense that this alien state/world into which one has been thrown torments now and eventually kills (causes nonbeing, das nicht). 

The unconscious apperception of this creates angst (dread). This running to evade nonbeing manifesting itself as fate generates a pressure time, in which - by which — the person is driven more than driving; that is, he both runs and is made to run; he is caused to flee more than volitionally fleeing. Thus there is caused an endless process of becoming that never turns into being itself; there is no true now — he is projected always into a dreaded next; he is not really here and now for him; he must run into the future and yet paradoxically away from the future; both runs toward and away from. Thus he is split. Part of him reaches inauthentically into the future to monitor it for peril — he cannot afford ever to ignore the future since it contains his fate which will kill him — and part of him looks away from the future for the same reason; this split may be the basis of schizophrenia. He must both notify himself of what he sees in the future and obscure what he sees from himself. This is another version of the split. But worst of all is — not that he must involve himself continually in the future out of apprehension, while also avoiding it, fearing to move into it, trying in fact to halt time (since time contains his fate) but he fails to be in the now, which is where reality is, and this is what most inhibits Sein; he has to be eternally becoming because he must extend himself eternally into the not yet. What I see in all this is that his sense that this alien world he has been thrown into will eventually ineluctably annihilate him is correct and he knows it is correct; this is not a delusion, this sense of impending destruction that will take away what little being he has. That time might increase or even complete his being does not occur to him because (and here the Gnostic perception is vital) this is an alien world into which he has been thrown against his will; i.e., he is helpless: he did not decide to be here, and the more he reaches frantically into the future (while simultaneously running from the future) the faster time "flows" (or the faster he moves through it). Thus the moment, the now, escapes him perpetually and he has no life he can call his own. But he must never reveal to himself this fact - about his inevitable future doom — lest he disintegrate utterly; again he is split. So he has no idea what he is doing or why, and he is enigmatic to himself; so he is too and for himself as alien as world is to him; he is as if thrown into an alien self on top of everything else!

As I say, the only solution to this is the Christian solution of what I call total capitulation to this fate and an acknowledgment that it cannot be avoided; it will come and it will destroy him. Thus he ceases running, and lives now not future; but at the moment he does this he knows that this anticipated doom exists — so in the normal course of life this sense of the future becoming the now only occurs — if it occurs at all — when the impending doom ceases to be future and is perceived as now: at which point anticipatory dread becomes logically total fear. However (as Heidegger points out) this apotheosis of dread, this being in-death, carries with it the possibility of Sein.”

Philip K Dick, Early 1981

The Owl In Daylight

[81:K-316] Out Of Sequence

VALIS is the cypher book to the whole ten volume meta-novel.  And will someday be read as such.

 "Valis" is Gnostic/Mani but secretly Holy Mother Church.  As with God's strategy, the sequence is "out of sequence." 

Viz: the key piece - VALIS - came last. Until it the others did not make sense - i.e., they were taken to have been written as fiction and hence hypothetical.  

VALIS retroactively reinterprets them - shows them in a light that could not be anticipated by an analysis of them — until VALIS came out; typical of the pattern strategy of the wise horn in its dialectical combat-game. 

Here is a big realization, and unexpected: VALIS in itself means nothing.

Its only significance is as the code book to the ten volume meta-novel — and no one has noticed this yet.  

1981

One Baktun After Another

 

Surrender

Always Be Casting

The Mothership Presents

Glengarry Glen Rogan

Directed by Brian Redban

Richard Roma......................................Joe Rogan

"All podcast studios smell vaguely of shit.  It gets so you don't mind it.  

That's the worst thing I can confess.  

You know how long it took me to get there?  A long time."

Blake....................................................Tim Dillon

"See this Patreon?  I made $250,000 last month.  

You see pal, that's who I am.  

And you're nothing."

Shelley "The Machine" Levene……...Bert Kreischer

"You think that my stats for those years was luck?  

Bullshit......over that period of time?  Bullshit.  

It wasn't luck.  It was skill."

John Williamson...............................Tony Hinchcliffe

"You've got a big mouth.  

And now I'm going to show you an even bigger one."

Dave Moss.........................................Bryan Callen

"Fuckin' cop's got no right to talk to me that way."

George Aaronow.............................Brendan Schaub

  "Why are you doing this to me, Dave? 

Why are you talking this way to me?  

 I don't understand. Why are you doing this at all?"

James Lingk..........................................Tom Segura

"My wife told me not to talk to you."

The Temple of Music: Round Room

Overture

Philip K Dick, letter to Malcom Edwards January 29, 1975

When you discuss how the idios kosmos is invaded by, what I think you describe as the "strangely different koinos kosmos", this makes sense out of a lot of what I perpetually write about ... also, when you discuss how the various idios kosmos-es, whatever the plural is — how a bunch of them may still be only a proliferation, a kind of mutual agreement to extend one idios kosmos, one partial view, from person to person, which is still not a genuine koinos kosmos: Malcolm, you have come up with a totally new concept, in my opinion. To phrase it baldly, there can be shared idios kosmos-es, giving the impression of illusion of a koinos kosmos. (The latter have the aspect of authenticity, the former not, however many people share it.)

What comes to my mind in this regard would be when a tyrannical state so manages the news and so manipulates the ideas and thoughts of its citizens, shutting out facts from their purview entirely, that together they collectively share a sort of ersatz koinos kosmos which is nothing more than the Approved Idios Kosmos manufactured synthetically by the state. It could fail to incorporate into it certain vital elements, without which however many people share it and ratify it, it still fails to partake of reality - in the sense that an authentic koinos kosmos should. Multiple incorrectness, however frequently ratified, does not create accuracy, does it not?"

Marshall McLuhan, The Dew-Line:

A movie like 2001 belongs to 1901, or even to the world of Jules Verne. It is filled with Nineteenth-Century hardware and Newtonian imagery. It has few, if any, twentieth-century qualities. This is natural. The public is not capable of being entertained by awareness of its own condition. Fish do not care to think about water, or men about air pollution.

Stanley Kubrick:

 "A number of people thought Floyd went to the planet Clavius. Why they think there's a planet Clavius I'll never know. But they hear him asked, 'Where are you going?', and he says, 'I'm going to Clavius.' With many people -boom- that one word registers in their heads and they don't look at fifteen shots of the Moon; they don't see he's going to the Moon."

Ray Bradbury in Castle of Frankenstein Magazine:

Bradbury:  I panned part of it. Only part of it. I think it's a gorgeous film. One of the most beautifully photographed pictures in the history of motion pictures. Unfortunately, there are no well directed scenes, and the dialogue is banal to the point of extinction.  

Castle of Frankenstein: I read somewhere that was part of Kubrick's intention. 

Bradbury: I hope not. I'd like to believe Kubrick is more intelligent than that. I just think he's a bad writer who got in the way of Arthur C. Clarke, who is a wonderful writer.

Dr. E. N. Parker, astrophysicist at the University of Chicago:

The most impressive aspect of the film is, Kubrick's genius for the orchestration of image and sound. Parker, and most of the science department, thought the whole was an imaginative tour de force, and that the usual scientific blunders had been avoided, things like zero-G in orbit, and the fact that meteors don't come by red hot and roaring.

“From a purely fiction point of view, the story was pretty unimaginative but it's really like going to an opera; opera is unimaginative, if you stop to think about it, the plot of an opera is absurd. So you just sit back and listen to the music and enjoy every minute of it.

The space waltzes, in which the machines come into orbit for landings on the space station and on the Moon (to Strauss' The Blue Danube, is perhaps more lush and stunning than anything Visconti has conjured with people in baroque ballrooms).   

Kubrick is said to have listened to over 400 tapes in selecting his music. It is somewhat astonishing that the pieces already existed, as they relate so perfectly to the visual material, particularly the works of the Hungarian avant-garde composer, György Ligeti. His Atmospheres, which makes the awesome howl that accompanies the astronaut as he breaks through the "star gate" to his death and regeneration, was written in 1961. Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic presented it in concert in 1964 and it sank back into the sea of new works which are rarely tolerated in the concert hall. What Kubrick demonstrates is that a whole new environment, outside of the concert hall where listening modes are fixed in past traditions, is more receptive to advanced music.”

Joseph Gelmis in Newsday April 5, 1969:

In Understanding Media, Marshall McLuhan says, "The artist picks up the message of cultural and technological challenge decades before its transforming impact occurs. He then builds models or Noah's Arks for facing the change that is at hand. The odd spermatozoon-shaped spaceship, The Discovery, in 2001 is a kind of ark. 

"The artist," says McLuhan, "is the man in any field, scientific or humanistic, who grasps the implications of his actions and of new knowledge in his own time. He is the man of integral awareness.” 

McLuhan speaks of art as "precise advance knowledge of how to cope with the psychic and social consequences of annexed technology" and of the need to "begin a translation of new art forms into social navigation charts." McLuhan adds, "I am curious to know what would happen if art were suddenly seen for what it is, namely, exact information of how to rearrange one's psyche in order to anticipate the next blow from our own extended faculties."  

The relevance of 2001 in light of McLuhan's theories is staggering. But no more so than the insight into the film one gets from reading The Savage and Beautiful Country by the British Jungian psychiatrist Alan McGlashan. The Savage and Beautiful Country (Houghton Mifflin: $4) has had a profound influence on my own life and is one of the most significant prophetic works of the decade. Both McLuhan's and McGlashan's books appeared before 2001 was released in 1968. In his foreword, McGlashan says that the purpose of his book is to indicate a new direction of perception: "An almost imperceptive inner change -a willed suspension of conventional judgments, a poised still awareness, a stillness in which long-smothered voices that speak the language of the soul can be heard again.”

"To suggest that mankind is on the verge of a crucial psychic mutation, a breakthrough to an enhanced personality that can grasp without flinching the formidable values of an inner world, while retaining its intellectual grip on externalities - is to sail extremely close to the wind."

He suggests that Nietzsche glimpsed the truth, which hadn't been forcefully promoted since Pythagoras, that what was needed was not another new philosophy, but that "man should surpass himself." And in 2001 the evolutionary stepups move on up from Leakey's man-ape to the current species of homo sapiens to the newborn star-baby in a cocoon - an infant angel, or superman.  

Says McGlashan, "The brain, Bergson believes, limits man's conscious awareness of the exterior world to what is practically useful.... Yet one may not reproach the human brain for its ruthless censorship of (other) perceptions. Consciousness has quite enough of a job mediating, like a harassed traffic police-man, between the hostile environment and the precarious spark of individual life which it guards - without being simultaneously distracted by data arriving from beyond space and time.”

"This may, in fact, be the secret of the incalculable strength of the 'common-sense' attitude.... Busy life simply cannot afford the time to listen too raptly to the faint voices hailing him from far beyond the boundaries of his own demanding world."

Jerome Agel, The Making of Kubrick's 2001:

Major concern throughout production was adequate representation of Saturn.  After months of unsuccessful attempts at designing Saturn, Kubrick decided that Jupiter might be visually more interesting and possibly easier to produce.  More months were spent in an unsuccessful attempt to produce Saturn. Several top London illustrators were then asked to render Jupiter, all without success.  

Final solution: The Jupiter Machine, a device consisting of an optical scanning technique that transformed flat painted artwork into a perfectly accurate sphere. It took an exposure time of two hours for the device to scan an entire globe.

Frederick Ordway’s advice to Kubrick after the film was released:

1. The "Dawn of Man" scene should be shortened, and above all narrated. The importance of this cannot be overemphasized. No one with whom I talked understood the real meaning of this visually beautiful and deeply significant sequence. Its intended impact was lost. Certainly, some reviewers, aided by press releases and Arthur Clarke's lucid comments, knew what it was all about, but the audience doesn't. And the audience not only has a right but a need to know, if the sequence is to have relevance. Go back to the splendid words of narration: 

The remorseless drought had lasted now for ten million years, and would not end for another million.The reign of the terrible lizards had long since passed, but here on the continent which would one day be known as Africa, the battle for survival had reached a new climax of ferocity, and the victor was not yet in sight. In this dry and barren land, only the small or the swift or the fierce could flourish, or even hope to exist. The man-apes of the field had none of these attributes, and they were on the long, pathetic road to racial extinction.

The sequence now has real meaning.

Stephen Grosscup in a letter to Stanley Kubrick:

The major implication inherent in 2001 takes place within the first ninety (?) seconds. Had I not already thought of this implication, I would quite probably now be confined in a rest home suffering from an "elation-caused insanity." About 18 months ago I had an idea. I was thinking about the potentiality of home videotape recorders. It seemed to me that when the day came when HVTRs were available to the general public that there would be a lucrative market for prerecorded videotapes, in much the same way that records and prerecorded stereophonic tapes constitute a lucrative market today. I then thought of the possibilities for the content of these prerecorded video tapes. Starting with rock-and-roll, I worked my way up to absolute music.

"What if," I thought, "someone wanted to 'see' Beethoven's Ninth Symphony?" Would you show them an orchestra and chorus? Or what? Then I thought: "What if someone 'filmed music'?" Then I thought: "What if I filmed music?" To make a long story shorter, I then proceeded to read a number of books on photography, buy a small, almost ludicrous super-8mm camera, and put my abstract idea into concrete form. I went out andfimed" the third movement of Gustav Mahler's Seventh Symphony. It worked! It worked beautifully. I was fully aware that I was a rank amateur using a primitive camera that did not even have reflex viewing, and yet upon viewing the final results-about five hours' cutting time was required on my little Sears, Roebuck & Co. editor - I knew beyond any doubt that it worked. Until seeing 2001 I had always thought of filming music in terms of objects existing "naturally" in reality. But it is doubtful that ever in my own lifetime will I be able to "shoot" a natural scene involving three planets. I knew instantly that you had too much reverence for Richard Strauss to tamper with the score - you did — three times!

Response to Grosscup from Stanley Kubrick: 

 Your letter of 4th May was overwhelming. What can I say in reponse?

Jeremy Bernstein: 

When we reached the trailer, I could see that it was used as much for listening for as for writing, for in addition to the usual battery of tape recorders (Kubrick writes rough first drafts of his dialogue by dictating into a recorder, since he finds that this gives it a more natural flow) there was a phonograph and an enormous collection of records, practically all of them of contemporary music. Kubrick told me that he thought he had listened to almost every modern composition available on records in an effort to decide what style of music would fit the film. Here, again, the problem was to find something that sounded unusual and distinctive but not so unusual as to be distracting. In the office collection were records by the practitioners of musique concrète and electronic music in general, and records of works by the contemporary German composer Carl Orff. In most cases, Kubrick said, film music tends to lack originality, and a film about the future might be the ideal place for a really striking score by a major composer. 

Stanley Kubrick in Playboy 1968:

It's not a message that I ever intend to convey in words. 2001 is a nonverbal experience; out of two hours and 19 minutes of film, there are only a little less than 40 minutes of dialog. I tried to create a visual experience, one that bypasses verbalized pigeonholing and directly penetrates the subconscious with an emotional and philosophic content. To convolute McLuhan, in 2001 the message is the medium. I intended the film to be an intensely subjective experience that reaches the viewer at an inner level of consciousness, just as music does; to "explain" a Beethoven symphony would be to emasculate it by erecting an artificial barrier between conception and appreciation. You're free to speculate as you wish about the philosophical and allegorical meaning of the film - and such speculation is one indication that it has succeeded in gripping the audience at a deep level, but I don't want to spell out a verbal road map for 2001 that every viewer will feel obligated to pursue or else fear he's missed the point. I think that if 2001 succeeds at all, it is in reaching a wide spectrum of people who would not often give a thought to man's destiny, his role in the cosmos and his relationship to higher forms of life.

I'm sure we'll have sophisticated 3-D holographic television and films, and it's possible that completely new forms of entertainment and education will be devised. You might have a machine that taps the brain and ushers you into a vivid dream experience in which you are the protagonist in a romance or an adventure. On a more serious level, a similar machine could directly program you with knowledge; in this way, you might, for example, easily be able to learn fluent German in 20 minutes. Currently, the learning processes are so laborious and time-consuming that a breakthrough is really needed. On the other hand, there are some risks in this kind of thing;  I understand that at Yale they've been engaging in experiments in which the pleasure center of a mouse's brain has been localized and stimulated by electrodes; the result is that the mouse undergoes an eight-hour orgasm. If pleasure that intense were readily available to all of us, we might well become a race of sensually stultified zombies plugged into pleasure stimulators while machines do our work and our bodies and minds atrophy. We could also have this same problem with psychedelic drugs; they offer great promise of unleashing perceptions, but they also hold commensurate dangers of causing withdrawal and disengagement from life into a totally inner-directed kind of Soma world. At the present time, there are no ideal drugs; but I believe by 2001 we will have devised chemicals with no adverse physical, mental or genetic results that can give wings to the mind and enlarge perception beyond its present evolutionary capacities.  Actually, up to now, perception on the deepest level has really, from an evolutionary point of view, been detrimental to survival; if primitive man had been content to sit on a ledge by his cave absorbed in a beautiful sunset or a complex cloud con-figuration, he might never have exterminated his rival species - but neither would he have achieved mastery of the planet. Now, however, man is faced with the unprecedented situation of potentially unlimited material and technological resources at his disposal and a tremendous amount of leisure time. At last, he has the opportunity to look both within and beyond himself with a new perspective - without endangering or impeding the progress of the species. Drugs, intelligently used, can be a valuable guide to this new expansion of our consciousness. But if employed just for kicks, or to dull rather than to expand perception, they can be a highly negative influence. There should be fascinating drugs available by 2001; what use we make of them will be the crucial question.

Robert Fludd (1574–1637)

Fludd, an English physician, philosopher, and mystic, was a pivotal figure in Renaissance occultism, synthesizing Neoplatonism, Hermeticism, and Christian mysticism in his magnum opus, Utriusque Cosmi Historia (1617–1621). This work explores the macrocosm (universe) and microcosm (humanity), presenting a vision of cosmic harmony. Fludd’s Square and Round Arts are central symbolic principles: the Square Art represents the material, rational, and structured realm—earthly, finite, and ordered—while the Round Art symbolizes the spiritual, holistic, and infinite, evoking universal unity. These align with the Greek concepts of idios kosmos (private, individual world) and koinos kosmos (shared, communal world), where the Square fosters isolated, analytical perception and the Round fosters communal, integrative experience.

In Fludd’s technical history of the macrocosm, Number (mathematics) is the first principle, embodying rational order and the Square Art’s structured clarity, organizing reality into measurable categories. Music, the second principle, embodies harmonic unity, serving as the Round Art’s bridge between material and spiritual realms. Fludd’s omission of Architecture suggests, as scholars like Frances Yates propose, that Music is Architecture, structuring sensory experience through harmonic proportions, akin to a cosmic memory theatre. The Art of Memory, adapted from Renaissance mnemonic traditions, relies on both Square Arts (logical organization) and Round Arts (intuitive unity)  to create a mental framework where structured images and harmonious associations enable recollection, uniting the idios kosmos with the koinos kosmos.

Fludd’s Utriusque Cosmi Historia includes the “black square of infinity,” a diagram of a dark, featureless square symbolizing the unmanifest void before creation—pure potentiality beyond rational comprehension. This image juxtaposes the Square Art’s finite order with the Round Art’s boundless unity, foreshadowing modern media like television’s “black cube” as a symbol of sensory limitation. The cultural split between print and theater, emerging post-Renaissance, reflects this tension. The mass production of printed books, enabled by Gutenberg’s press (c. 1450), epitomized the Square Art, prioritizing the eye and fostering a linear, rational idios kosmos. Print marginalized oral, communal traditions like Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre (1599–1613), which embodied the Round Art’s multi-sensory, participatory koinos kosmos, setting the stage for modern media dynamics.

Marshall McLuhan’s media theories, articulated in The Gutenberg Galaxy(1962) and Understanding Media(1964), provide a framework to interpret this split. McLuhan posits that media are extensions of human senses, altering sensory ratios—the balance of sensory engagement. Print, a “hot” medium, isolates the eye, creating visual space: a linear, rational, individualistic mode of perception aligned with Fludd’s Square Art and Number. By giving us “an eye for an ear,” print fostered an idios kosmos, disconnecting individuals from communal experience. Oral and electronic media, conversely, evoke acoustic space, a holistic, multi-sensory, participatory mode akin to Fludd’s Round Art and Music, creating a koinos kosmos.  

By the 1960’s, the black cube of television imploded into a black hole, devouring all media into a flat event horizon.  Despite its “cool,” mosaic-like audiovisuals, television’s increasingly vivid imagery and pre-synchronized sound prioritized the eye, fragmenting attention and fostering passivity. This suppressed the Round Art’s vitality, replacing the Globe Theatre’s communal acoustic space with a domestic, visually dominant idios kosmos. Television conditioned sense ratios so quickly and completely it trapped viewers in an idios kosmos so ubiquitous and strong that Philip K. Dick referred to it as a “black iron prison”.

Stanley Kubrick, aware of McLuhan’s theories (evidenced by his comment about convoluting “the medium is the message”), recognized television’s Square Art dominance as a cultural and corporate force designed to suppress the Round Art and occlude  the Logos. Kubrick convoluted McLuhan by crafting 2001: A Space Odyssey as a monolithic medium, where the film’s form—a silent, music-driven structure—becomes the message, actively reshaping sensory ratios to restore acoustic space’s koinos kosmos and manifest the Logos.

Kubrick’s convolution lies in three dimensions. First, he embraces McLuhan’s thesis by making 2001’s sensory form the primary conveyor of meaning. With only 40 minutes of dialogue in a 139-minute runtime, the film relies on precise visuals (e.g., geometric compositions, slit-scan effects) and non-diegetic music (e.g., Also sprach Zarathustra, The Blue Danube), requiring viewers to synthesize sight and sound. Unlike television’s pre-synchronized narratives, 2001’s ambiguity—evident in sequences like the space station’s cosmic waltz or the Stargate’s sensory overload—demands active participation, aligning with acoustic space’s holistic engagement.

Second, Kubrick complicates McLuhan by transforming the medium into a transcendental tool. While McLuhan analyzed media’s sensory effects, Kubrick uses 2001’s form to guide viewers beyond television’s idios kosmos toward a cosmic, universal awareness. The film’s music, acting as Fludd’s architectural framework, harmonizes rational visuals (Number, Square Art) with spiritual unity (Music, Round Art), evoking the Logos as a principle of cosmic order. For example, Zarathustra’s triumphant chords during the monolith’s appearances frame evolutionary leaps, suggesting a divine intelligence that transcends visual space’s fragmentation.  

Third, Kubrick subverts McLuhan’s descriptive framework with a prescriptive vision. By structuring 2001 like a silent film with music, he flips television’s Square Art design, restoring the ear’s role and countering its passive idios kosmos. The film’s theatrical, widescreen format recreates the Globe Theatre’s communal koinos kosmos, uniting audiences in a shared sensory experience. Kubrick’s convolution thus transforms McLuhan’s insight into a cinematic intervention, using the medium’s form to manifest the Logos in an audience conditioned by television’s sensory and spiritual void.

Kubrick’s art in 2001 seeks to allow the Logos to manifest by crafting a cinematic memory theatre that marries Fludd’s Square and Round Arts. Number’s Square Art is evident in the film’s mathematical precision—geometric compositions (e.g., the monolith’s 1:4:9 proportions), orbital mechanics, and slit-scan effects in the Stargate—reflecting rational, visual structure. Music’s Round Art, acting as architecture, structures the sensory experience. The Blue Danube’s waltz harmonizes the space station’s motion into a cosmic dance, while Ligeti’s Atmosphères creates a transcendent framework for the Stargate, evoking the Logos as restoring the Logos through sensory reengagement.

The black monolith, appearing at evolutionary junctures (Dawn of Man, Moon, Jupiter), symbolizes television’s black cube and Fludd’s black square of infinity—a Square Art medium embodying the idios kosmos. Its silent, geometric form reflects Number’s rational order, trapping characters and viewers in visual space’s isolation, devoid of the Logos. Kubrick flips this by pairing the monolith with music, transforming it into a catalyst for acoustic space. Zarathustra’s chords or Atmosphères’ dissonance create an architectural harmony, guiding viewers from the idios kosmos to the koinos kosmos. The Stargate sequence, with its numerical visuals and musical immersion, manifests the Logos as a cosmic, unifying force, akin to Fludd’s Round Art.

Kubrick recognized television as a Square Art extension of print, suppressing the Round Art’s koinos kosmos, as embodied by the Globe Theatre. 2001, a monolithic medium marrying Number’s rational structure and Music’s architectural harmony, convolutes McLuhan’s “the medium is the message” by using its form to restore acoustic space and manifest the Logos. The monolith symbolizes television’s idios kosmos, while its music-driven role catalyzes a shift to the koinos kosmos, fulfilling Fludd’s memory theatre. Kubrick’s art rebalances sensory ratios, guiding audiences from a fragmented, Logos-devoid world to a shared, cosmic reality, though its complexity may restrict its reach.

The Temple of Music: Does It Erase The Host That Lives?

“At electric speeds the hieroglyphs of the Page of Nature become readily intelligible and the Book of the World becomes a kind of Orphic hymn of revelation." 

Marshall McLuhan

Libraries:Past,Present,Future

July 3, 1970

The Wizard of Oz + Leaving Meaning 

2001: A Space Odyssey + Meddle (loop)

2001: A Space Odyssey + Dark Side of the Moon  (loop)

2001: A Space Odyssey + The Wall (loop)

2001: A Space Odyssey + The Seer (loop) 

2001: A Space Odyssey + To Be Kind (loop)

2001: A Space Odyssey + The Glowing Man (loop)

2001: A Space Odyssey + The Beggar (loop)

2001: A Space Odyssey + Birthing (loop) 

The Conversation - b/w no sound

The Shining + M (loop) 

The Shining + DSOTM (loop)

The Shining + TW (loop)

The Shining + TS (loop) 

The Shining + TBK (loop)

The Shining + TGM (loop)

The Shining + TB (loop)

The Shining + B (loop)

Dune + SFTB

The Last Temptation of Christ + MFWGMUARTTS/TS

The Last Temptation of Christ + MFWGMUARTTS/TBK

The Last Temptation of Christ + MFWGMUARTTS/TGM

The Last Temptation of Christ + MFWGMUARTTS/TB

The Last Temptation of Christ + MFWGMUARTTS/B

Eyes Wide Shut + M (loop) 

Eyes Wide Shut + DSOTM (loop)

Eyes Wide Shut + TW (loop)

Eyes Wide Shut + TS (loop) 

Eyes Wide Shut + TBK (loop)

Eyes Wide Shut + TGM (loop)

Eyes Wide Shut + TB (loop)

Eyes Wide Shut + B (loop)

The Matrix - The Seer (loop)

The Matrix - To Be Kind (loop)

The Matrix - The Glowing Man (loop)

The Matrix - The Beggar (loop)

The Matrix - Birthing (loop)

Apocalypto - The Seer (loop)

Apocalypto - To Be Kind (loop)

Apocalypto - The Glowing Man (loop)

Apocalypto - The Beggar (loop)

Apocalypto - Birthing (loop)

First Man + The Seer 

First Man + To Be Kind 

First Man + The Glowing Man 

First Man + The Beggar 

First Man + Birthing 

Joker + The Seer

Joker + To Be Kind

Joker + The Glowing Man

Joker + The Beggar

Joker + Birthing 

Dune: Part One + M/DSOTM/WYWH/A/TW

Beau Is Afraid + My Father Will Guide Me Up A Rope To The Sky/The Seer (loop)

Beau Is Afraid + My Father Will Guide Me Up A Rope To The Sky/To Be Kind (loop)

Beau Is Afraid + My Father Will Guide Me Up A Rope To The Sky/The Glowing Man (loop)

Beau Is Afraid + My Father Will Guide Me Up A Rope To The Sky/The Beggar (loop)

Beau Is Afraid + My Father Will Guide Me Up A Rope To The Sky/Birthing (loop)

Dune: Part Two + MFWGMUARTTS/TS

Dune: Part Two + MFWGMUARTTS/TBK

Dune: Part Two + MFWGMUARTTS/TGM

Dune: Part Two + MFWGMUARTTS/TB

Dune: Part Two + MFWGMUARTTS/B

Eddington + Soundtracks For The Blind

REPEAT

"Entertainment in the future may have quite different patterns and functions.

You'll become a yogi, you'll do your self-entertainment in yoga style." 

Marshall McLuhan

Like Yoga, Not Like the Movies

Forbes Magazine March 1967