A Discussion at Harper College

A Discussion at Harper College (2016)

Below are highlights and excerpts from a discussion between myself and a member of the intellectual community that took place in a music room on the William Rainey Harper College campus in Palatine, IL.

Thoughts on Economics:

"When I think of the economy here in the U.S. my first thought is wages, or rather, the lack of thereof. Let me start by saying that any working adult must never live in poverty, regardless of education level, skill set, family background, or experience. Unfortunately this is not the case for America's economic model, which I find to be primitive and Regressive. You have countless examples of dedicated hardworking adults who must rely on government assistance to survive. This leads me to believe that their employers are either greedy or just plain sadistic, because... why would you have someone work for you all week, sacrificing many hours of time, body strength, overall health, and peace of mind, and not even pay them a fair living wage in return? It just doesn't make any sense. When given a different perspective, I find the behavior of many employers to be quite disturbing and sick.”

“I believe the entire capitalist model is based on barbarism, cruelty, and sadism. It is quite a failed system, in my eyes. I am not an expert on the math and detail behind economics, but just from casually observing prices in stores and property rents around Chicago suburban zip codes, I can say that a reasonable starting wage for an adult working full time should be around $20 per hour. Now, this is just to survive. Of course there must be raises compensating for inflation and improved work performance tied into the employment agreement. Again, I'm only describing the bare minimum here with the $20 per hour figure. Anything less than this I would consider to be worker exploitation and psychological terrorism at the hands of the employer. "

“Another aspect of today’s economy I oppose is excessive wealth hoarding. If I absolutely had to pick a number, I would say about one million of today’s dollars would be more than sufficient to meet my necessities for the rest of my life. There is a good chance I would donate over one half of any large sum of money I may ever receive, within the first week or two of receiving it. I just don’t see the point of accumulating many millions, or even billions of dollars in wealth. It’s a completely fake and hollow culture from my point of view. It would make me feel very, very dirty, and used. No matter what a person’s labor or enterprise is, there is absolutely no way a reasonable observer can say that the observed person legitimately earned so many, many millions or even many billions of dollars in just a few years or even decades of work. This is a lie capitalists tell, and also a logical impossibility.”

"The whole concept of economic hierarchy, of dominance of management over worker, of chain-of-command, of fake elitist culture... disgusts and sickens me to the core. We are sentient, self-aware, fragile beings drifting on a small rock in a small star system floating in an enormous galaxy that is still just a barely-there speck in the infinite vastness of space. How in the right mind can anyone, for any reason, think it is okay to have dominance over a fellow being's life, in any way, shape, or form?"

Music:

"Nothing I do was effortless at the beginning. I struggled mightily when first learning music, and even considered quitting several times. I think the key to success here is discipline. Forget about learning quickly or playing fast music, the first step is to use discipline and master the very basics until they become easy, then build from there. I have been a recording artist for several years now. I enjoy the peace and quiet of my music space, and also the options to do many takes for a recording then pick the best one later. Live playing is not my natural strength, so I am still developing that. As far as the instruments themselves, I pretty much started with basic open chords on acoustic guitar, and then learned simple scales like A minor pentatonic. Also learning the major scale was crucial. I think it's very important for any musician to really master this scale, and basically have it engraved into your mindset. I am actually quite a late starter on piano. I think I started around age 23 or 24. I don’t think age matters in music. A so called late starter can easily have as much, if not more success than an early one, or even a child prodigy. I think it's all about keeping your mind open. Everyone's potential is limitless; they just need to access it properly."

Broader views:

"What interests me about life in general is that no one actually knows what anything really is. We have a theory today that states everything came from one singularity and then expanded rapidly after the Big Bang, eventually forming the observable Universe after many billions of years. I don't think much is known about what happened prior to this, or exactly how many, if any, other dimensions or multiverses exist beyond what we can see and measure.”

“What I have observed is that organized mass religion has been very detrimental to our species. I support a way of thinking similar to Secular Humanism. I believe that if all members of the species adapted this system, then preventable catastrophes like Nuclear war, income inequality, wealth hoarding, and the rise of a fascist dictator in an industrialized nation can be stopped. Simply put, religion to me is just a bunch of fiction and rhetoric and it's hard to take anyone who treats religion as fact seriously. I think we all need to kind of wake up and embrace scientific thinking, but not as an indisputable fact that must never be questioned - which is how many Primitive Regressives view the archaic Bible - but instead as a learning tool for progress and development. Hopefully this translates to better living, so in the future we don't have fascist psychopaths like Donald Trump running around, getting legitimate support from the masses of citizens who are either grossly misinformed or intellectually underdeveloped and severely regressed in that regard"

On the future:

"I think humanity's future could be bright if we embrace Secular Humanism, or something similar. I believe all information and energy will be free and easily accessible to the average citizen in the future. If that future person wanted to, I believe he or she should be able to obtain a high level of education in any field free of any financial charge. The basic energy needs must also be free. There is no reason for anyone to ever be without food, water, shelter, healthcare, transportation, or security. Not with these obscene stockpiles of idle wealth that we have all over the world. We must access these immense stockpiles and re-distribute them in a civilized, organized, and rational manner.”

“I believe the more information that travels between people across all levels of society, the better of that society will be as a whole. This is a very idealistic view, but I don't think it is impossible to achieve. To me if starts with educating yourself and thinking critically and questioning everything. What I've realized during my time in this society is that many people simply do not know how to think or ask questions. They basically burn through their lives like biological automatons, taking orders, creating economic output, and then dying anonymously. I find this to be rather depressing and unnerving, but I believe it can be corrected over time.”

“All people need to learn how to think for themselves. They must learn how to question any and all authority at all times.”

Come into the Garden - Nick Drake Cover

Come into the Garden - Nick Drake Cover (2015)

Original written by the legendary British artist Nick Drake (1948 - 1974)

In the bright red sky

In the heat of an evening

When only prisoners sleep

She said she couldn't

Come to the garden

See an old man weep

She said her dreams were too far to be thought of

Her scars too wide to heal

She said she couldn't come to the garden

See a blind man kneel

She sailed away to a blue horizon

In floating thoughts she'd sway

She said she couldn't come to the garden

See an old man pray

She wished them luck as they left on their journey

Maybe she'd join them soon

But she lost her grip at the tip of life's fingers

Went home and worshiped the moon

Drone Citizen

Drone Citizen (2015)

I toiled for meager wages
For two decade and a half
Finally the blindness took me in
Didn't realize what they've done to my head
Spread disease and laid the blame with me

Your health will be secure, the manager then said
As I ate his lies, destitute and dumb
In agony I pray to a god who is never there
Save the broken shell that I've become

All the drones toil on in the burning sun
The privileged classes look away
Our effort is led on by their pointed guns
Our only real escape from this is death

A decade has passed since machines could think alone
They'd help mankind, their makers proudly said
I shake and shiver in my cold fluorescent home
The room is bare, my savings growing thin

Classified for life as the ones who will die
Working for the privilege of the few
We're desensitized, pupils dyed pure white
Sleep dreamless, conquered by the truth

I listen to the rain and the telecast machine
The agents talk of wars in distant lands
I weep for the end of my family's proud tree
Sterilized, by the higher classes hand

Swept away in pain, I am trembling
Wishing for my consciousness to cease
Shattered dreams all die, hope is crucified
Emotions numbed, yet I remember grief

Nuclear Silhouettes

Nuclear Silhouettes (2015)

Matthau, Journeyman of the Cosmos

Matthau, Journeyman of the Cosmos (2015)

     I have never been a man of talent. Throughout my youth my greatest efforts in education yielded results that fell just short of average. I would attempt to forcefully scurry up the IQ bell curve; screaming and convulsing, praying to any and all deities, beings, demons, and ghosts. I read incessantly, always trying to force my brain to retain something, anything. As my frustrations became unbearable I required physical release, so I would close my hand into a fist and smash it against my own head multiple times in a row. There was no pattern to these concussive assaults, some would end after a few quick thuds, and others went on indefinitely until I lost consciousness. Each time I woke up reality remained the same disappointing prison. All prayers remained unanswered. All of my effort was in vain. 

     Mathematics absolutely confounded me, and logic caused me pain. Literature made me feel insecure and tense; science left me deaf, dumb, and blind. I always had a general awareness of the wonders of the world and the supremely talented beings that contributed to it, but I never saw myself as more than a numb observer, an idle parasite on the sidelines wallowing in its own filthy shattered dreams of mediocrity.

     I forgot about high school three weeks after I was told that I graduated. Societal demands for a job began to weigh on me and so I began my first search for employment. Daily job applications numbered in the dozens. Over the next eight months I managed to obtain four interview opportunities. All four ended with tears, a violent scream, and a direct sprint out of the facility and back to my dwelling.

     The years rolled hopelessly by me. I was able to secure marginal employment in society’s trenches but it did nothing to fulfill my mental curiosity or boost my feeling of self-worth. On a dark winter morning I then stumbled upon a true epiphany. It went something like this:

     I was suffering from a bout of insomnia when suddenly my brain seemed to vibrate strangely and my right arm began to experience a warm tingling sensation. For no reason at all I opened the word processor on my computer and began to wildly pound the keyboard. After what felt like many hours of mashing keys I gave a quick glance at the text. It appeared to be a jumbled mass of words, random punctuation, and scattered symbols made from alt-codes. Without giving it any more thought I saved the file and moments later emailed it to the administrative offices of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. I then gave in to fatigue and passed out on top of my keyboard, oblivious to the moderate shock this caused to my skull.

    Several weeks later I woke up to the obnoxious ringing of my mobile phone.

    “May I speak to Matthau […inaudible…] please?”
   
    “Yes, I am speaking,” I whimpered nervously, still wiping the drool from my chin.

   
    “Please report to the Rogers Building of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. I’ve no time to elaborate now, but we believe your equation may have discovered the voice of God."

     I arrived in an important looking office about forty-five seconds later, feeling quite unsure of what my method of transportation was or how I ended up in a perfectly tailored suit.

     “Matthau, please sit down. We are now required to give full disclosure on the true nature of your existence. You are a successful test subject of a psychological experiment here at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Contrary to how you may feel or what you may believe, your entire experience in this universe and all memory of it has been a fabrication.”

      
     Shock began to build inside of my chest. It slowly radiated into my extremities as I attempted to maintain calm. The phantom voice continued on.

     “We regret to inform you that due to the nature of the mind alteration technology, the disclosure of its existence to you will lead to its immediate termination. We are very proud of you and we will treat your end-life process with dignity and respect.”

     There was more that was said but I was unable to comprehend it. Suddenly intense vertigo assaulted my senses. My visual field collapsed into fluorescent static. Sharp violent bursts of pain shot through my head and I began to taste blood. I collapsed to the floor, and then began to tremble and weep. Through my blurry tears I saw the most peculiar sight; an alien world was suddenly superimposed onto my field of vision everywhere I looked. It seemed real, yet strangely out of reach. A large clear, yet slightly off-color wall surrounded everything. I began to feel small… very small… unnaturally small… and very, very trapped.

     “You are a rat.”

     The speaker’s final phrase drifted into oblivion, and I with it.

Piano Sketch

Piano Sketch (2015)

Parasite

Parasite (2015)



Lurks and crawls

Weeps and bawls

Hugs the shadows in your halls

Hugs your daughter and your son

Hugs the trigger of your gun

Pain and awe

Bloody shawl

I am just a moody pawn

Hate’s my fate when all is naught

My body starts its filthy rot

It beautifies my dreams

But Parasite, Parasite, why are you so mean?

 See I am you and you are me

With nothing in between

I work and toil ‘til my blood boils

To feed the little kids

I’ve nothing left, a wretch, a mess

All for these little fiends

Parasite, parasite, won’t you do me in

Knife in spine, or pills and wine

It all is fine with me

A useless drone, I breathe alone

I worked to build this wretched home

My throat bleeds out, I will atone

My soul will be set free…

Oh Parasite,

Please don’t follow me

Introduction

Welcome to the Creative Multimedia Archive of Vlad Motchoulski. Vlad is a 21st century polymath who specializes in music and writing. He is self-taught in all of his disciplines.

Vlad Motchoulski was born in Moscow, Russia on March 16th, 1988. He endured a turbulent and tumultuous upbringing, being often cast away from his peers and isolated from society altogether. He began to independently study music at age 20 after a meditation session following the ingestion of the entheogen known as Dream Herb. A transcendent experience gave him new perspectives on his life and he began to see the cosmos and his place in it under a new light.

Vlad is completely self-taught in all aspects of music. Having either been financially unable to support lessons or sometimes even outright denied all opportunities by prospective instructors, he forged his own path as he trekked on his musical journey, which he hopes will someday become the pinnacle of his legacy.

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Brief Excerpt from Vlad Motchoulski's Biography:

Biography of Vlad Motchoulski 

(Birth to Age 27)

Vlad was born on March 16th, 1988 at a nondescript hospital in then-Soviet Moscow. Upon leaving the facility he was wrapped in insulating blankets for warmth and shuttled through the dreary streets of the city to his family's apartment in a monolithic five-story building in the Izmailovo district. Political and social turmoil engulfed the city during his early years. One of Vlad’s earliest notable memories is of the 1993 Russian Constitutional Crisis, during which armed tanks from the Taman Division opened fire and bombarded the Russian White House with artillery.

Vlad’s pre-school was in the courtyard of the Soviet-style residential block. It provided a tranquil enclave that acted as a spark for his interest in nature. As a child he enjoyed the ambiance of rainy days and the earthly smell rising from the courtyard’s lawns. During spring the numerous lilac trees would be in bloom, creating a peaceful and pleasant atmosphere. On occasion he would accompany his grandmother on strolls through the aptly named Lilac Boulevard, picking up freshly baked bread from local merchants on their way home.

Soviet agenda permeated the culture and environment at the pre-school. When Vlad was learning how to write, one of the instructors noticed him using his left hand and quickly chastised him for it before forcing him to continue with the “proper” right hand. During recess the teachers would walk away from the children and huddle around a gazebo towards the back of the yard while smoking cigarettes. Nap time was mandatory at this facility and restroom breaks were not permitted until a specific time. Early on Vlad noticed the oppressive structure of this establishment, and it likely played a significant role towards his involvement in social justice and equality as an adult.

Vlad and his family immigrated to the United States in the summer of 1994. His father secured a research position at Purdue University in West Lafayette, Indiana. The family moved to the Purdue Village residential complex in the southwest corner of the town. Vlad was apprehensive of other people during this time and did not initiate much contact with others. Instead he chose to take solitary journeys on his bicycle through the winding sidewalks of the apartment complex. Directly to the south was Purdue University Airport. Upon making this discovery, Vlad became fascinated with the small single engine aircraft that took off and landed there. He was amazed at their sleek beauty and skill of the pilots that maneuvered these machines.

Over time, Vlad began to feel scared and alienated by America. He simply did not understand…

why are these people…

 so…

... angry?

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