Fun Social Nihilism has been been produced, over the last many years, in a state of unaltered unitary consciousness – without soporific drugs, in a managed rational state, vigilant to the connections between the encapsulated thoughts, creative yet without any plagiarism made, or charges of plagiarism raised, with no Kathy Griffin/Michel Richards/AIDS tweeter et al bonehead cognitive formulation necessitating official remorse and interment in re-education camp. You can rely on Fun Social Nihilism. It does not need, and never has needed, to go to rehab. There are no signs of mental illness, no covert psychopathologies that need to be remanded to a team of shrinks and their Big Pharma suppliers. So far, so good.
But boy oh boy this is but one side of consciousness. Yes, inside that unitary, regulated, overt, reality-based consciousness are complex and only mildly varying formulae of rage and suspicion, doubt and animadversion, love and analysis. Nothing simple about this above-board wonderworld, but it’s the other consciousness, the one that floats into that selfsame cranial space around certain doldrum hours of near-sleep, an almost dream-space, on the job, where the bizarre and the recognizable cavort in fairly nonsensical phantasmorgia, that is equally at home within the singular identity of that one brain.
This floating associational alter-consciousness is most likely simply the precursor state to actual dreaming, where the movies in the broken-down movie house of the brain are hyper-indie and basically forgettable in their precious absurdity, but it is connected to that manged, upright sobersided reason-thought of the waking day. Most jobs for the human slave do not permit this fascinating yet not entirely pleasurable slide into the salubrious comforts of near-sleep, but even a compensated idleness can illuminate strange avenues of the human psyche. Weird juxtapositions waft into the forebrain in this second, minor consciousness – no reality could accommodate such elaborately imagined hoaxes, all produced by a momentarily ungoverned prefrontal cortex.
What are these absurdia? Only dim perceptions of these often funny brief scenes culled from the nether regions of reality awareness can remain even during the remainder of the day, but they are not unreal – they are a part of the workings of that functional brain, just not subject for public display. Without that other part of consciousness, we are as dull as our dullest ancestors.