Reprinted from Profane Existence #33 (Fall 1997)

by Dan Psycho

My interest in self-sufficiency was first by the DIY attitude of early eighties punk scene as well as my introduction to the work of Aleister Crowley around the middle of that wretched decade. I was actively seeking something without having any idea as to what the hell it was. I wanted to form a band, that much I did know. I wanted to perform the rituals that I was reading about, but I couldn't put my finger on any specific motives behind my desire. It was nearly a decade before I finally took one of Crowley's most profound statements to heart. "Do What Thou Wilt..."

My college studies didn't do much more than cloud my vision. I was constantly making things more complicated for myself. I majored in alcohol consumption and had a split minor in Art and English. Even though I never graduated, I was transformed into another typical over-educated and pompous ass that our colleges seem to pump out incessantly. Out in the real world, I realized that the regular Joe had insights with which I was entirely unfamiliar, things that I could never learn in school. I actually had to unlearn some of the things they had taught me in college to that I could regain my focus. I know that I would have to acquire my practical skills before I could ever pursue my goals.

I calmed my ego. Narcissism is the enemy of creativity. But suddenly, everyone seemed hateful to me, as if by loving outwardly, they would somehow dwindle their own inner strength. This attitude seems to generate a lot of the general apathy that we feel towards each other. We are all too busy thinking about ourselves to give a shit about anyone else.

Finally, I accepted the fact that in everything I did, I alone was responsible. Success or failure depended entirely on my own resolve. Our modern civilization has undermined society's standards, which are primarily based on how much money they can make when it's not being based on the color of their skin or their religion. I pick the people that I spend time with according to my work. People who show respect for my efforts, and especially the rare bird that might actually contribute something to it is always a welcome addition to my life, but there's nothing that turns me off more than a lazy, leechy person. I am happy to pass a bit of time with anybody who does not compromise that I consider my purpose in life. Most people seem to be entirely incapable of showing this courtesy, which should be common and to which everyone is due. Those people have dropped out of my life like so many dead flies.

Coming to terms with the nature of my existence was not an easy task. It took me all thirty years, which means that I probably wasted a number of them. Now I constantly question myself. Why am I doing this? What should I try to learn next? When I thought I had it all pegged, I realized that my purpose wasn't a constant, that it displayed a natural sort of flucuation over time. Life never stays the same and neither do we. This is a general delusion that we hide behind generated by the powers that be. In any undertaking, there are obstacles. The reasons that anarchy fell right into place for me, on this note, is because when we pursue our own personal goals, it necessitates coming up with our own sets of rules and regulations by which to accomplish them. For example, the goals of my government are definitely not in accord to my own.

It is hard sometimes not to fall into complete pessimism over the state of things. But as I watch the world devour itself, I can't help but feel that we must be protected somehow. It's like we're all living some sort of charmed life without even realizing it. How else do we escape our self-destruction by such narrow margins again and again and again? In relative terms, our species hasn't really been here very long. I think that whatever humanity was put here to achieve is a project still in it's infancy.

Can we blame technology for the sorry state of things? At least half the blame lies on we the people. We have chosen to apply our knowledge in the worst of ways. You can't really blame the television set for it's wretched, inane programming because that is what we respond to. The potential of the boob-tube is just incredible. You can't really blame the automobile for polluting the air unless you ride a bike to work. How about the petroleum keeping down hemp seed oil, the perfect fuel, as an alternative to gasoline? Technology in the field of communications is advancing by leaps and bounds, so when the hell are we going to start talking to each other?

Once I realized that I would never be able to go through common channels to accomplish my tasks, I felt a little lost. It seemed to that everywhere I turned, self-sufficiency was being discouraged. The music that my wife and I were putting together would never be heard unless we could put it out ourselves. I was greatly inspired when I received tapes in the mail for kids who recorded their bands in bedrooms with boom boxes. It meant that whether or not we had money was a moot point because we could still be heard and we didn't have to live up to anybody's standards but our own.

For as long as I could remember, I dreamed of being a comic book artist. I went to school, but I spent more time worrying about how the hell I was ever going to get into a real art school than learning. I thought that I needed some fancy diploma to do comics as well as some big corporation. It may be a Xeroxed piece of shit, but it's all mine. I will never again bend over and beg some fuckhead to strip away my creative dignity. This Path of Freedom led me directly to my next conclusion.