Nihilistic, Pessimistic, or Realistic?

A.D. Wallace once described the distinction between radical and moderate pessimism. Radical pessimism, he said, is just called pessimism, while moderate pessimism is called realism. That really resonates with me.

It confuses me why so many people think that being honest and truthful about reality is negative. I’m a truth-seeker, even when the truth is difficult to hear.

The hollowness of it all this time of year hits like a gut punch, doesn’t it? It does for me. The cultural machine revs into overdrive, parading its constructs like a golden calf. For many, it’s “the most wonderful time of the year.” For me? It’s a study in futility, a theater of the absurd dressed in twinkling lights and synthetic cheer. Call me a pessimist if you like—but am I? Or am I just daring to peel back the glittery veneer and point to the uncomfortable truth we’d rather ignore?

Every year, we strap ourselves into this holiday hamster wheel. We buy gifts nobody really wants, often on credit we can’t afford. We drag out pagan symbols, slap on a thin coat of religious rhetoric, and call it tradition. The collective irony and hypocrisy are staggering. And yet, most people would defend it all with tooth and nail, convinced I’m missing the “magic” of it. But I don’t think I am. I think I’m seeing it for exactly what it is.

Look, celebrate whatever you want, however you want—it’s no skin off my back. My point is that, as a culture, we’ve collectively signed up for a ritual of empty commerce and shallow pretense. I opted out years ago. These charades offer me no existential comfort; they churn up more disquiet than solace. Let’s call it what it is: capitalism, draped in the illusion of love and goodwill. The irony deepens when you consider how much of this seasonal spending binge props up industries churning out cheap, disposable products, often imported from halfway around the world. It’s a snake devouring its own tail, all while claiming to serve some higher purpose.

Why do we do this to ourselves? What primal force drives us to act so irrationally, year after year? The answer isn’t buried too deep; it’s fear—specifically, the fear of our own impermanence. Death anxiety, plain and simple. And rather than confront it, we dress it up in tinsel and call it a celebration.

Do you know what a great existential buffer is? Gratitude. Why is gratitude something we schedule? Why can’t we express love and appreciation for the people in our lives in March or August—or whenever the urge strikes us? Why do we let the calendar and commerce dictate the timing of something so personal and profound? The idea that love needs a price tag or a season feels absurd to me. It’s as if we’ve been sold a lie, conned into thinking that authentic connection requires a receipt. It’s ridiculous. Worse, it feels like we’re willing participants in a scam, duped into playing the part of the fool, year after year.

Regardless of how I see things, I sincerely wish everyone the best in 2025. I have a sense it might not be our brightest year, but I hope we all find a way to endure it. Whatever challenges come our way, remember this: it’s all temporary, and in the vast expanse of existence, it’s ultimately meaningless. Let that thought anchor you—it might just offer a glimmer of solace in the darkest moments.

Writing My Book and Telling My Stories

“In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Othering and the Origins of Evil”

I wanted to share an update about my book. I’m excited about it!

I devote daily time to writing, reading, researching, making art, and most of all, thinking.

So far, my book breaks down something like this:

1
Introduction and Artist Statement
This chapter sets the stage for the book, explaining its purpose and relevance. It addresses some key questions. What is the book about, and why should a person read it? I introduce the themes, goals, and personal motivations driving this work. I also include my artist statement. It lays the foundation for the art itself, both technically and conceptually.

2
A Phenomenological Autobiography
Through personal stories, I explore how my life experiences have shaped my creative journey. This chapter demonstrates the deep connection between my artistic drive and the existential questions addressed by Becker's theories and Terror Management Theory (TMT). By connecting my own narrative to these frameworks, I provide insight into how creativity becomes a response to death anxiety or existential anxiety.

3
Ernest Becker
In this chapter, I delve into Becker’s groundbreaking theories, the denial of death and death anxiety. I supplement these with insights from anthropology, psychology, philosophy, theology, and art. I explain Becker's concept of the origins of evil, examining its definition and mechanisms, and scrutinizing the frequent attempts by humanity to eradicate perceived evil through acts of evil, using violence and dehumanization (oh, the irony!).

4
Terror Management Theory (TMT)
This chapter focuses on TMT and its relationship to Becker’s ideas, with a specific case study: the Tabeguache Ute Indians. I analyze how European colonizers used othering (Manifest Destiny) to justify acts of genocide and ethnocide against Native Americans, demonstrating the devastating consequences of existential anxiety, or death anxiety, on human behavior.

5
Artwork
Here, I present the artistic creations inspired by the concepts discussed in the previous chapters. This section ties theory and practice together, showing how my work embodies these existential and psychological themes. This chapter includes over a hundred photographic prints, paintings, and other visual media.

6
Essays
This chapter is a collection of essays I’ve written over the years, covering a range of topics from art and photography to philosophy and psychology. Along the way, you’ll find reviews and reflections on obscure ideas and peculiar subjects. The essays vary in length—some are just a few hundred words, while others span a couple of thousand. Their styles differ as well; some are explanatory, while others read more like personal journal entries.

Working It Out

It’s been a little over three years since I began writing this book and making art for it. In that time I’ve made considerable progress.

I’ve created a significant body of artwork, including the photographic prints for the book and several paintings. It has been an exciting journey, and I want to share it with those who have an interest in these theories and my work.

Drawing from the theories of Ernest Becker, Otto Rank, Terror Management Theory (TMT), and many others, I’ve used my personal experiences as a lens to investigate these existential questions. The work explores the psychology of othering, particularly through the historical lens of the Tabeguache Ute in Colorado, and delves into the roots of human evil—specifically, why people often mistreat those whose beliefs differ from their own.

I’ve been pleasantly surprised by how much I’ve enjoyed the writing process. It’s offered me profound insights into my identity and life experiences in ways I didn’t expect. Unlike photography, which captures a moment instantly, writing feels more akin to painting—it’s a slower, layered process. It generates ideas gradually, piece by piece, over time. This slower rhythm has been deeply rewarding, allowing ideas to mature and take shape in ways that feel both deliberate and organic.

A Tiny Preview of Some of My Stories

Jeanne and I spent the past week watching a Spanish series about a man who inherits the gift of premonitions from his mother. The story was intriguing and kept us engaged—it turned out to be a pretty enjoyable watch overall.

Watching it brought back memories of a trip I took to Mexico 36 years ago (see photo above). A group of friends traveled to Mazatlán, Mexico, to get out of the cold for a week—it was November 1988. One of our friends had a complete mental breakdown—he went into full-blown psychosis—at the end of the trip. It didn’t start until we were on the way home. The event lasted for several days. Like scenes from a horror film, I witnessed all of it firsthand. He ended up in a psychiatric hospital.

What happened? He went out one night with some locals—just two nights before the end of our trip. I tried to stop him but I couldn’t. He told me later that it involved methamphetamine, cocaine, and the Sinaloa Cartel (Cártel de Sinaloa).

What happened was surreal, a lot like the series we just watched. It prompted me to write about the experience in detail. I've come to understand that these kinds of experiences shaped both my creative life and my life in general. It’s like a long movie plot unfolding before me—the narrative arc—the more we observe, the more it reveals about who we are.

What I thought would never be relevant is central or key now to telling my story and the story of these theories I’m preoccupied with. In a lot of ways, it all fits together.

This story is in the second chapter of my book, which has about 15,000+ words so far and focuses on my family and friends. They are, in large part, the people who made me who I am.

From a young age, I was acutely aware of death—through tragic accidents, murder, suicide, drug addiction, war, and mental illness. These harsh realities seemed to loom around me. However, positive influences and uplifting experiences also surrounded me, shaping my early years.

The stories of my life begin around the age of eight and continue to the present day. I share memories of my mother, her deep love for humanity, and the lifelong battle she faced with mental illness. I also reflect on my grandmother’s fierce indignation whenever she heard racial slurs or witnessed people belittling those who were different. I’m so grateful for both of them.

I recount our family Thanksgiving dinners, where my mother would invite young men from the local Job Corps—African American, Native American, and Mexican American—making them welcome at our table every year. Our neighbors often didn’t know what to make of her; she was a profoundly progressive person, far ahead of her time.

One of the early stories recounts my heroin-addicted brother’s return from the Vietnam War. I write about the experience of traveling with my mother to the airport to pick him up. I’ve also written about my own experiences in the military, ten years after that, and the struggles I faced in its aftermath.

My writing delves into my time photographing dead bodies—gunshot wounds to the head, etc.—and the profound psychological impact it left on me.

I explore themes of drug use and overdoses, which have been a recurring presence in my life—friends and family dying from this kind of stuff. Most recently, my 61-year-old brother died in 2023 of methamphetamine toxcity. Alcohol and drug use was everywhere around me most of my life.

I witnessed a friend of mine shoot up Jack Daniels—yes, Jack Daniels, the whiskey. And yes, he put a needle in his arm and shot a syringe full of it into his vein. It was four o'clock in the morning—the party was still going, but there wasn’t any more cocaine available for him to shoot, snort, or smoke. I write about what he said, what he felt, etc. We gave him the nickname “Whiskey Pig” after that.

A few years later, his younger brother died of a drug overdose. During a lunch break from work, he bought some dope. He stopped at a red light in the middle of the city and injected the fentanyl-laced heroin he had just purchased. The dose was lethal—he died instantly, slumped over the steering wheel with the needle still in his arm.

These stories are my way of confronting those experiences and connecting them to the universal human search for meaning and the existential struggles that we all face. I explain how they have driven my creative life and the questions around existence.

My life is full of story after story about the struggles to exist—to cope with meaninglessness and insignificance. I’m sure I’m not the only one that could tell stories like these. However, they are uniquely mine and contrasted against the philosophical and psychological ideas around our existential struggles.

Isn't this the fundamental essence of existentialism? We are inherently searching for meaning in our lives when there is none. We crave significance and some kind of immortality that doesn’t exist. We lie and deny. We use our culture to provide meaning for us—we tranquilize ourselves with drugs, alcohol, shopping, fantasies, social media, fame, ideologies (religion, politics), or whatever can fill the void that faces us—mortality. It’s so clear to me.

Cultural constructs shape humanity, in my opinion. To me, most people are cuturally constructed meat puppets. Most people seem to be unaware of the importance of directly confronting and addressing the fundamental lie of existence—their mortality—and the consequences that ensue when they fail to do so.

That’s the theory of my book.

Potential Big News Coming... But First...

Hello! And hello, July!! Wow! Time is flying! It’s been over a month since I’ve posted anything here.

Life is wonderful in Las Cruces, New Mexico. Is it hot? Yes! It’s hot; so far, we’ve reached 105.5F (41C). And now we have the rainy season (they call it the monsoon season here). This will continue throughout this month and next.

We like it here a lot. We're still settling in; the garage is filled with boxes; and we're diligently working on our major home renovations, hoping to complete most of them soon. Settling in after a move can take months or even a year or two. That’s where we’re at now—just getting our legs, as they say. However, I’m posting this for a different reason.

I am on the brink of making a significant decision in my life (no, it is not relocating! LOL!). Because of this potential endeavor, I have been absent from my blog or writing here. I’m going to hold off on posting the news until I know for certain that it’s going to happen. I would like to query those who follow my YouTube channel (or this blog) and ask if they would like to engage with weekly live video streams again.

A few weeks ago, I received an email from a person who was jumping into the wet collodion process and shared how much they had enjoyed watching my YouTube videos. I appreciate these kinds of comments. I do get a few that write me and tell me they’re engaged with the 200+ videos on my channel and that they’ve found the information helpful, encouraging, or even a bit entertaining.

If you’re interested in joining a live show or even just watching the videos after they’re made, drop me an email or comment here. Let me know if this sounds valuable to you. My main goal would be to engage with the conceptual and the technical (ask questions live or send me emails to address on the show), and if I end up involved with this new venture, I’ll include that in the videos. Moreover, it would be beneficial to have a small community again engaged in talking about life, art, and making pictures.

And no, I’m not selling anything or asking for any commercial compensation; this is strictly for engaging with each other and having meaningful conversations.

Monsoon season in Las Cruces, New Mexico, June 29, 2024, 1730.

Radical Mindfulness Why Transforming Fear of Death is Politically Vital

This is a book by Dr. James Rowe that I would recommend reading if you want to understand what I’m trying to address through my artwork and my life in general (my interests). He is addressing Ernest Becker’s theories and terror management directly. I’ve never seen anyone write about the results of death anxiety applied to politics and modern and historical problems directly. My book will address these theories in detail, but I’ve made it personal. I’ve explained how the theories have driven me both creatively and psychologically.

Radical Mindfulness examines the root causes of injustice, asking why inequalities along the lines of race, class, gender, and species continue to exist. Specifically, Dr. James K. Rowe examines fear of death as a root cause of systemic inequalities and proposes a more embodied approach to social change as a solution.

Collecting insights from powerful thinkers across multiple traditions—including black radicals, Indigenous resurgence theorists, terror management theorists, and Buddhist feminists—Rowe argues for the political importance of seemingly apolitical practices such as meditation and ritual. These tactics are insufficient on their own, but when included in social movements fighting structural injustices, mind-body practices can start to transform the embodied fears that give supremacist ideologies endless fuel while remaining unaffected by most political actors.

Radical Mindfulness is for academics, activists, and individuals who want to overcome supremacy of all kinds but are struggling to understand and develop methods for attacking it at its roots.

Updates and News

Greetings. I have been “absent” online for the past couple of months for a variety of reasons. I wanted to post an update and share some news and let you know what’s happened.

First, I want to thank the people who have reached out to me by phone, text, email, or message. I appreciate that. Very kind. All is well; I’ve just had some events and a change of mind in how I want to communicate, or not, about my life and goings on.

DEATHS IN MY FAMILY
In August, my brother died from drugs. He was only 61 years old, but he had a long history of drug abuse and a troubled life, to say the least. It was shocking to hear the news, but not surprising in a lot of ways. Thirty days later, my father died of cancer. He’d been in hospice care for over a year and was quite ill. His death wasn’t as shocking but still a loss. They both died at home. So I’ve been taking care of all of that for the past 6–8 weeks, and it’s still going on, but I can see the end and closure at this point.

“On the Edge of a Precipice,” 9” x 12” (22,86cm x 30,48cm) Acrylic Painting, September 4, 2023

For the past five years, my studies in death anxiety, the denial of death, and terror management theory have really helped me process all of this. I don’t look at death the same way I once did. Yes, it’s sad; it's a loss, but coming to terms with the inevitable is reassuring and comforting. The Buddhists talk about attachment as suffering. I can see that; I understand the reasoning. Everything and everyone you know will be gone one day. All living things will die. Few think about it in those terms. I’m not saying we shouldn’t have attachments; we all do, but maybe think about the impermanence of everything. Try to see connectedness in a different way. I take great comfort in thinking about my “cosmic insignificance.” It puts my ego in check and helps me maintain psychological equanimity. I see so many people “inflated” about who they are or their "achievements,” and all I can think of is how misguided and diluted they are. I don’t want to use the word narcissist, but it’s very close to that. I understand why they do it; I understand Becker’s work and Solomon’s too.

The lack of self-awareness and self-refection is obvious. If there is one thing I would say to people like that, it is: “You have to come to terms with the fact that no one cares about what you do. No one.” The sooner you realize this, the sooner you can get on with really living life. It’s important for us to feel like we have value in a meaningful world. I don’t think that approach is the most healthy. If you’re an artist, make the work because you’re compelled or driven, not because you get “likes” or money from it. Think in terms of meaning and value. Try to see the world in a less self-centered way—less navel gazing and more cosmic insignificance! That’s been my goal for a while.

SOCIAL MEDIA
I’ve found myself more and more turned off by all of it. I’ve lost interest in it, to be honest. A few months ago, I started painting and doing some mixed media work for my book and didn’t want to share any of it on social media. We share too much. It’s overkill. I find myself disinterested in what people are doing because so many of them are doing the same thing. And everything seems to have a commercial objective to it—all about the money—very little about creativity or expression. I have no interest in commercial work. I know people have to make a living, or try, so I get that, but capitalism and creativity are like oil and water to me. So, I’ve stepped back from posting or interacting that way. Rick Rubin said in his book, The Creative Act: A Way of Being, “As artists, we seek to restore our childlike perception: a more innocent state of wonder and appreciation not tethered to utility or survival.“ That’s exactly how I feel about it. The caveat is that I will post some blog links on Instagram, but that’s about it.

“On the Edge of a Precipice #2,” 9” x 12” (22,86cm x 30,48cm) Acrylic Painting, September 19, 2023

I’ll continue to post here; as I move through my project, I’ll share some things, ideas, and progress. I will save a lot for the book. I like the idea of the book containing images and ideas that are only published there, not online. Currently, I’m still writing, editing, and making work. As I said, I’ve been doing some painting and mixed-media work. I’m allowing this to unfold however it wants. Another thing about working in solitude (not sharing everything) is that the external becomes silent and the internal can come forward. It’s powerful. I think technology has taken us captive (social media) and made us slaves to sharing everything we do, allowing the influence of strangers to guide and influence our work in a negative, non-personal way. That’s not a good thing. Again, Rick Rubin sums it up well. He said, “Art is choosing to do something skillfully, caring about the details, and bringing all of yourself to make the finest work you can. It is beyond ego, vanity, self-glorification, and the need for approval.” (The Creative Act: A Way of Being)

MAKING A MOVE
And last, but certainly not least, we’re thinking about relocating. We love it here, but as we get a bit older each year, we become more and more sensitive to the snow and cold. We want to live somewhere warm most of the year. Right now, we’re looking at Las Cruces, New Mexico. There are several reasons for this, but the main one is weather. Also, I want to be able to make art year-round; the weather plays a big part in that as well. We’re not sure when this will happen. Right now, the housing market is in trouble. We’re fine here; it's not a big deal if it takes some time. So, if you’re in the market for 12 acres of land and a new home in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, drop me a note (insert winky face here).

I hope you’re healthy and happy and find your center in this turbulent, chaotic world we live in. I wish you gratitude, awe, and humility in your daily life. Check back once in a while and you can see what I’m up to, and don’t be afraid to drop me a comment or an email-it’s always good to hear from my friends!

10" x 10" Color Prints Matted

I finally received 50 conservation mat boards and clear bags for my color prints. They are 12” x 12” (30 x 30 cm) with a 9.5” x 9.5” opening (24 x 24 cm). I’m very happy with them. That will give me 100 matted prints (the final edited prints) with the POP prints. These will all be published in my book.

Rick Rubin on Creativity and Making Great Art

Gunnison's Mariposa Lily and Fibonacci Star Blossom

Cosmetics are still vitally important for “good grooming” in the twenty-first century. Women spend more money on makeup and skin care every year than the United Nations spends on all its agencies and funds. New cosmetics, new styles, and new fads come and go, but they all result in part from the age-old universal human disdain for bodies in their natural state.

But beauty comes at a high price, and achieving and maintaining it often involves both physical and financial pain. Hair receives considerable attention in all cultures. Although human hair grows prolifically, people are nowhere near as hairy as our closest primate relatives. Nevertheless, we have always hated the stuff. Hairy bodies have always been associated with uncivilized, amoral, sexually promiscuous, or perverted animality.

Google “body hair” and you will get about 33.5 million hits, nearly all related to ways to get rid of it. Hair removal or alteration, especially of the face, eyebrows, underarms, legs, and pubic regions, is an ancient and widespread practice in all cultures. The Egyptians used razors, pumice stones, and depilatory creams to get rid of body hair. Julius Caesar had his facial hair extracted with tweezers and shaved his entire body (especially before sex). In Ars Amatoria (The Art of Love), the Roman poet Ovid advised young women to “let no rude goat find his way beneath your arms, and let not your legs be rough with bristling hair.” Today, Brazilian waxes and manscaping have become de rigueur for many young women and men.

Hairstyles and makeup are part of the transformation from animal to human, but these are temporary measures. Hair grows back in unruly ways and unexpected places; makeup fades or runs. Consequently, more radical and permanent body modifications are also deployed. American parents mortified by the sight of their metal-studded offspring who need ratchet wrenches to get through airport security will perhaps be comforted by the fact that such practices are ancient and universal. Remnants of ear and nose rings from four thousand years ago have been found in the Middle East. Egyptian pharaohs pierced their navels. Roman soldiers spiked their nipples. The Aztecs and Mayans pierced their tongues. Genital piercing was widespread for both males and females. The “Prince Albert,” today’s most frequently sported penis piercing, was favored by Queen Victoria’s husband. (The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life,” page 126)

“Mariposa Lily and Deer Antler,” 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4 cm) RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print, July 28, 2023

A tea of the plant was taken internally by Native Americans to treat rheumatic swellings and to ease the delivery of the placenta. The juice of the leaves was applied to pimples.

“Five Star Fibonacci Sequence: A Blooming Flower,” 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4 cm) RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print, July 28, 2023

“The Fibonacci Sequence turns out to be the key to understanding how nature designs... and is... a part of the same ubiquitous music of the spheres that builds harmony into atoms, molecules, crystals, shells, suns, and galaxies and makes the Universe sing.” ~ Guy Murchie, The Seven Mysteries of Life: An Exploration of Science and Philosophy

The Last Messiah - Peter Zapffe

“One night in long bygone times, man awoke and saw himself.

He saw that he was naked under cosmos, homeless in his own body. All things dissolved before his testing thought, wonder above wonder, horror above horror unfolded in his mind.

Then woman too awoke and said it was time to go and slay. And he fetched his bow and arrow, a fruit of the marriage of spirit and hand, and went outside beneath the stars. But as the beasts arrived at their waterholes where he expected them of habit, he felt no more the tiger’s bound in his blood, but a great psalm about the brotherhood of suffering between everything alive.

That day he did not return with prey, and when they found him by the next new moon, he was sitting dead by the waterhole.”

— The Last Messiah - Peter Zapffe

Peter Zapffe was a Norwegian philosopher and writer. In this passage, he describes the existential crisis of humanity and the realization of our place in the cosmos. It reflects on the moment when early humans, represented by "man," became self-aware and conscious of their own existence.

Initially, man is depicted as naked and homeless, symbolizing a sense of vulnerability and a lack of purpose in the vastness of the universe. However, man's "testing thought," or his capacity for reasoning and contemplation, allows him to marvel at the wonders and horrors of existence. This suggests that self-awareness and consciousness bring both enlightenment and anguish as man grapples with the mysteries of existence.

The mention of a woman awakening and urging the man to go and slay represents the emergence of survival instincts and the beginning of human civilization. Man equips himself with tools, represented by the bow and arrow, which symbolize the development of human intellect and technology through the marriage of spirit and hand.

However, when the man goes out to hunt, he realizes a sense of interconnectedness and empathy with all living beings, as reflected in the "psalm about the brotherhood of suffering between everything alive." This suggests a shift in man's perspective, where he starts to see himself as part of a larger web of existence rather than a superior predator. This realization may have led to a change in man's behavior, as he no longer returns with prey but instead sits by the waterhole and eventually dies.

“Man is a tragic animal. Not because of his smallness, but because he is too well endowed. Man has longings and spiritual demands that reality cannot fulfill. We have expectations of a just and moral world. Man requires meaning in a meaningless world.”

— Peter Wesel Zapffe

Zapffe's passage reflects on the human condition, the complexities of self-awareness, and the existential struggles that arise from our consciousness and perception of the world around us. It presents a philosophical exploration of the nature of existence, the search for meaning, and the consequences of self-awareness.

I read Thomas Ligotti’s book, “The Conspiracy Against the Human Race,” a while back. I don’t recall how I ran into his writing; it must have been a book review or something when I was doing research and reading on existential philosophy. Regardless, it is mind-blowing. I wouldn’t say it’s for everyone. It’s dark, scary, and sticks with you. He’s known as a horror writer. This is horror, but in a more realistic way. I’m not sure I’d call him a nihilist, but he’s something akin to that—definitely an anti-natialist. Antinatalism, or anti-natalism, is the philosophical position that views birth and procreation of sentient beings (including non-human animals) as morally wrong. Antinatalists therefore argue that humans should abstain from procreating.

He wrote a lot about Peter Wessel Zapffe in the book. I can get on board with Zapffe, for the most part, anyway. I really like Zapffe’s essay, “The Last Messiah.” It’s littered with metaphor and meaning regarding the human condition. I’ve quoted the beginning of the essay above and wanted to share a tiny bit of insight about it. In this essay, he addresses the giant deer (Irish elk) of long ago that evolution got wrong. The animal grew antlers that were almost 12 feet wide (almost 4 meters)! The antlers were so heavy, they pinned the animal’s head to the ground. Needless to say, the animal went extinct. Zapffe compares human consciousness to this animal’s overgrown antlers.

Zapffe suggests that, like the antlers of the Irish elk, human consciousness is a maladaptation that brings about its own downfall. While other animals are able to live instinctively, without the burden of self-consciousness, humans are burdened with an awareness of their own mortality and the inherent meaninglessness of existence. This awareness creates a tragic contradiction in human life, as humans strive to find meaning, purpose, and significance in a world that appears devoid of inherent meaning.

His analogy of the Irish elk's antlers serves as a metaphor for the heavy burden of human consciousness and the existential anguish that it can bring. It reflects his view that human existence is characterized by a profound sense of tragedy, as humans grapple with the absurdity and meaninglessness of their own existence.

THE WORM AT THE CORE READING

Join me Saturday, April 29, 2023, at 1000 MST on YouTube or Stream Yard for the reading of Chapter 7, The Worm at the Core. This is a big chapter for me. It informs my project and is at the center of the idea behind my current work. The next few chapters really lay out the human response to death anxiety and the denial of death.

The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life

Chapter 7: The Anatomy of Human Destructiveness

• Derogation and Dehumanization

• Cultural Assimilation and Accommodation

• Demonization and Destruction

• September 11, 2001: The Lash and the Backlash

• Dr. Strangelove in the Lab

• Nothing New Under the Sun

• Out on a Limb?

This is a reading of the book, "The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life" by Sheldon Solomon, Jeff Greenberg, and Tom Pyszczynski. Quinn will read a chapter every week and then have a discussion about it. This book, along with "The Denial of Death" by Ernest Becker, is the basis for Quinn's (photographic) book, "In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Othering and the Genesis of Evil."

When: Saturday, April 29, 2023, at 1000 MST.

Where: My YouTube channel and Stream Yard

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RNTibFMdWLU

Stream Yard: https://streamyard.com/f95s2myq8r

Summary of My Project: In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Othering

DEATH ANXIETY & THE DENIAL OF DEATH
This project has a level of complexity in communicating what it is, what it’s about, and the objective of the work. It is very complex in one sense and, in another, very simple and straightforward. It’s simply expounding on theories of human behavior (Becker et al.) that affect all of us and the implications of them. I would sum up the objective of the work using Carl Jung’s idea of making the unconscious conscious. That’s what I would like to have happen: The average person would be able to accommodate and assimilate these ideas and understand their universal implications.

From the book, “The Worm at the Core: The Role of Death in Life,” by Sheldon Solomon, Jeff Greenberg, and Tom Pyszczynski. This is a great book. I encourage you to read it.

This is what I've written as a short description of the project. I would like to hear your feedback if you're willing to share. Does it make sense? Do you think you understand the work or the goals of the project? Do you feel that you have a basic understanding of the theories I'm working with?

SUMMARY STATEMENT OF THE WORK
Drawing inspiration from the seminal work of cultural anthropologist Ernest Becker, my book, "In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Othering" (2024), aims to challenge the dominant cultural narratives that deny the reality of death and the ways in which this denial contributes to the oppression and eradication of marginalized cultures, specifically the Tabeguache-Ute of the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. By embracing Becker's insights into terror management theory and the role of death anxiety in shaping human behavior, this project seeks to provoke reflection and dialogue about the urgent need to come to terms with our mortality and its implications for our relationships with one another and the planet.

Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In)

Do you remember this song? It's a psychedelic rock song written by Mickey Newbury and best known from a version by The First Edition (Kenny Rogers). It was used in the movie “The Big Lebowski.” He’s tripping in the bowling alley to the song. It was recorded in 1967 and released in 1968. I was four years old then. This song and "Quinn the Eskimo" (The Mighty Quinn), performed by Manfred Mann and written by Bob Dylan (The Basement Tapes), were very popular. Everyone started calling me "Quinn the Eskimo." I have vague memories of that time—good memories.

Both of these songs are about drug use (or so some think): LSD and quaaludes. It was the time of hippies and "awakening” and the sexual revolution. The war in Vietnam was raging, and the youth were rethinking capitalism, war, love, and the meaning of life—a significant shift in values from the parents of that generation. Ernest Becker said, “One of the reasons that youth and their elders don’t understand one another is that they live in “ different worlds”: the youth are striving to deal with one another in terms of their insides, the elders have long since lost the magic of the chumship. Especially today, the exterior or public aspect of the adult world, its jobs and rewards, no longer seem meaningful or vital to the college youth; the youth try to prolong the adolescent art of communicating on the basis of internal feelings; they may even try to break through the carapace of their own parents, try to get the insides to come out.” Ernest Becker (The Birth and Death of Meaning: An Interdisciplinary Perspective on the Problem of Man)

Ernest Becker was teaching his theories about death anxiety during this period. He had a difficult time staying employed. The universities saw him as a threat and a radical. He ended up in Canada (Vancouver, B.C.) and taught at Simon Fraser University until his death in 1974. Students loved Becker. He was a performer. They connected with his theories, too. I feel the same way. If you have an interest in the human condition, who we are, and why we are the way we are, as you should, these theories will be an awakening for you. They were for me.

I’ve been doing research and "deep diving" into Becker’s theories for a few years. There was a part of me that knew his ideas had answers for me. I've spent a lot of my life looking for answers to big questions, one of which is why we treat people who are different from us so poorly. There are so many examples of this throughout human history. Why haven’t we evolved past the point of committing genocide and subjugating other human beings as commodities and objects? We can put a man on the moon, but we can’t treat our brothers and sisters with basic respect? This is absurd to me! And this was a question that Becker had some preoccupation with as well. “In this view, man is an energy-converting organism who must exert his manipulative powers, who must damage his world in some ways, who must make it uncomfortable for others, etc., by his own nature as an active being. He seeks self-expansion from a very uncertain power base. Even if man hurts others, it is because he is weak and afraid, not because he is confident and cruel. Rousseau summed up this point of view with the idea that only the strong person can be ethical, not the weak one.” Ernest Becker (Escape from Evil)

My project, "In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Othering," reflects my questions and answers a lot of them; questions that I’ve wrestled with for over thirty years. The strongest and most direct link I've made is between Becker's ideas about genocide, xenophobia, and the subjugation of other people and the events that have happened here (where I live)—the genocide of Native Americans by the colonizers and U.S. military.

Have I answered all of the questions surrounding these events? No. They’re far too complex for one body of work or a handful of theories to fully address. However, I feel like what I’m doing will create a catalyst to explore these events in ways very few have. The art (photographs) connects to the theories, and the theories connect to human behavior. I’ve drawn a straight line between all of them. It makes so much sense to me and satisfies me in ways that nothing else has over all of these years.

I know I’m swimming against the tide with this work. So few people will "get it," and even fewer will take the time to learn about it (people are simply not interested). I suppose that’s why we—humanity—keep doing the things we do (hate, genocide, racism, xenophobia, etc.). The terror of death is so profound that the need to repress it takes precedence over everything else, including learning about it. That’s "the condition our condition is in," and I don’t see it changing anytime soon. As Becker says, I’m not cynical, but I remain skeptical.