I've read Ken Wilber's latest - Boomeritis - and thoroughly enjoyed. Now, I've got to admit - I'm a hard-core Wilber fan. I don't think there's any huge breakthrough thinking in here. His main focus is two-fold: 1) to make his thinking more accessible, stripped down to the bare essentials (and I think he does this well) and 2) to expose some of the toxic elements prevalent in much of current "correct" thinking that is in fact holding us back hugely. This is definitely a book with attitude - read it if you want to go for a bit of a wild ride!
Meg Salter MegaSpace Consulting 416/486-6660 meg.sal...@sympatico.ca www.megaspaceconsulting.com ----- Original Message ----- From: "Eric Lilius" <elil...@halhinet.on.ca> To: <osl...@listserv.boisestate.edu> Sent: Friday, June 14, 2002 12:22 PM Subject: Boomeritis by Ken Wilber > I just received this taste of a novel written by Ken Wilber. > > (Summary from the book jacket: ) > > Ken Wilber's latest book is a daring departure from his previous writings - a > highly original work of fiction that combines brilliant scholarship with > tongue-in-cheek storytelling to present the integral approach to human > development that he expounded in more conventional terms in his recent A Theory > of Everything. > > The story of a naïve young grad student in computer science and his quest for > meaning in a fragmented world provides the setting in which Wilber contrasts the > alienated "flatland" of scientific materialism with the integral vision, which > embraces body, mind, soul, and spirit in both self and culture, and nature. The > book especially targets one of the most stubborn obstacles in realizing the > integral vision: a disease of egocentrism and narcissism that Wilber calls > "boomeritis" because it seems to plague the baby-boomer generation most of all. > > Through a series of sparkling seminar-lectures skillfully interwoven with the > hero's misadventures in the realms of sex, drugs, and popular culture, all of > the major tenets of extreme postmodernism are criticized - and exemplified - > including the author's having a bad case of boomeritis himself. Parody, > intellectual slapstick, and a mind-twisting surprise ending unite to produce a > highly entertaining summary of the work of cutting-edge theorists in human > development from around the world. > > The Introduction: > > Omega_Doom @ FutureWorld.org > > I am the bastard child of two deeply confused parents, one of whom I am ashamed > of, the other of whom is ashamed of me. None of us are on speaking terms, for > which we are all grateful. (These things bother you, every now and then. ) My > parents are intimately conjoined in their displeasure with the present; both > want to replace it - quickly - with a set of arrangements more suited to their > inclinations. One wants to tear down; the other, to build up. You might think > they were made for each other, would go together hand in hand, a marriage made > in transformational heaven. Years after the divorce, none of us is so sure. > > One of them breathes the fire of revolutionary insurrection, and wants to tear > down the oppressive forces of a cruel and careless yesterday, digging beneath > the veneer of civilized madness to find, it is devoutly hoped, an original human > goodness long buried by the brutalities of a modern world rubbed raw by > viciousness. One of them dreamily gazes in the other direction, standing on > tiptoes and straining to see the foggy face of the future, to a coming world > transformation - I'm told it will be perhaps the greatest in all of history - > and begins to swoon with bliss of beautiful things about to unfold before us; > she is a gentle person and sees the world that way. But I am cursed with an eye > from each, and can hardly see the world at all through two orbs that refuse to > cooperate; cross-eyed I stare at that which is before me, a Picasso universe > where things don't quite line up. Or perhaps I see more clearly precisely > because of that? > > This much seems certain: I am a child of the times, and the times point in two > wildly incompatible directions. On the one hand, we hear constantly that the > world is a fragmented, torn, and tortured affair, on the tremulous verge of > collapse, with massive and huge civilization blocks pulling apart from each > other with increasingly alienated intent, so much so that international culture > wars are the greatest threat of the future. Cyber-age technology is proceeding > at a pace so rapid that, it is said within 30 years we will have machines > reaching human-level intelligence, and at the same time advances in genetic > engineering, nanotechnology, and robotics will mean the possible end of > humanity altogether: we will either be replaced by machines or destroyed by a > white plague - and what kind of future is that for a kid? At home we are faced > with the daily, hourly, minutely examples of a society coming apart at the > seams: a national illiteracy rate that has skyrocketed from 5% in 1960 to 30% > today; > 51% of the children in New York City born out of wedlock; armed militias > scattered about Montana like Nazi bunkers on the beaches of Normandy, braced for > the invasion; a series of culture wars, gender wars, ideology wars in academia > that parallel in viciousness, if not in means, the multicultural aggression on > the international scene. My father's eyeball in my head sees a world of > pluralistic fragmentation, ready to disintegrate, leaving in its riotous wake a > mangled mass of human suffering historically unprecedented. > > My mother's eye sees quite another world, yet every bit as real: we are > increasingly becoming one global family, and love by any other name seems the > driving force. Look at the history of the human race itself: from isolated > tribes and bands, to large farming towns, to city-states, to conquering feudal > empires, to international states, to worldwide global village. And now, on the > eve of the millennium, we face a staggering transformation the likes of which > humanity has never seen, where human bonding so deep and so profound will find > Eros pulsing gloriously through the veins of each and all, signaling the dawn of > a global consciousness that will transfigure the world as we know it. She is a > gentle person and sees the world that way. > > I share neither of their views; or rather, I share them both, which makes me > nearly insane. Clearly twin forces, though not alone, are eating away at the > world: planetization and disintegration, unifying love and corrosive > death-wishes, bonding kindness and disjointing cruelty, on a colossal scale. And > the bastard, schizophrenic, seizure-prone son sees the world as if through > shattered glass, moving his head slowly back and forth while waiting for > coherent images to form, wondering what it all means. > > As the Picasso-like fragments assemble themselves into something of postmodern > art, flowing images start to congeal: perhaps there are indeed integrating, > bonding, unifying forces at work in the world, a God or Goddesses love of gentle > persuasion, slowly but inexorably increasing human understanding, care, and > compassion. And perhaps there are likewise currents viciously dedicated to > disrupting any such integral embrace. And perhaps they are indeed at war, a war > that will not cease until one of them is dead - a world united, or a world torn > apart: love on one hand, or blood all over the brand-new carpet. > > What immediately tore at my attention, all that year, was the three-decade mark > of Armageddon doom rushing at me from tomorrow: in 30 years (30 years! ), > machines will reach human-level intelligence, and beyond. And then human beings > will almost certainly be replaced by machines - they will outsmart us, after > all. Or, more likely, we - human beings, our minds or our consciousness or some > such - would download into computers, we would transfer our souls into the new > machines - and what kind of future was that for a kid? > > That was the year the event occurred, altering my fate irrevocably, a year in > the life of a human machine that miraculously came to life. It was a year of > ideas that hurt my head, made my brain sore and swollen, it seemed literally to > expand and push against my skull, bulging out my eyes, throbbing at my temples, > tearing into the world. Of that year, I recall almost no geographical locations > at all. I remember little scenery, few actual places, hardly an exterior, just a > stream of conversations and blistering visions that ruined my life as I had > known it, replaced it with something humanity would never recognize, left me > immortal, stains all over my flesh, smiling at the sky. > > > -- > .·´¯`·.¸ ><((((º> .·´¯`·.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸ <º))))>< ,.·´¯`·.¸.·´¯`·.¸ ><((((º> > ¸.·´¯`·..·´¯`·.¸ ><((((º> .·´¯`·.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸.·.¸.·´¯`·.¸ ><((((º> > .·´¯`·.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸ <º))))>< .·´¯`·.¸.·´¯`·.¸ ><((((º> ¸.·´¯`·..·´¯`·.¸ > > ******PLEASE NOTE CHANGE OF ADDRESS****** > > Eric Lilius > Box 27 Eagle Lake, Ontario, Canada > K0M 1M0 > email:elil...@halhinet.on.ca > ph: 705-754-9859 > fax: 705-754-9860 > > Dance, when you're broken open. > Dance, if you've torn the bandage off. > Dance in the middle of the fighting. > Dance in your blood. > Dance, when you're perfectly free. > > Rumi > > * > * > ========================================================== > osl...@listserv.boisestate.edu > ------------------------------ > To subscribe, unsubscribe, change your options, > view the archives of osl...@listserv.boisestate.edu, > Visit: > > http://listserv.boisestate.edu/archives/oslist.html > * * ========================================================== osl...@listserv.boisestate.edu ------------------------------ To subscribe, unsubscribe, change your options, view the archives of osl...@listserv.boisestate.edu, Visit: http://listserv.boisestate.edu/archives/oslist.html