Saturday, January 12, 2008

Just a Smattering of Shadow Work

I'd like to share some fascinating site statistics about Dreamcrisp. The average length of time real people look at this blog when they click on a google link or some other referring url is 14 seconds. Not coincidentally, four out of five unique visitors find this site after searching for porn space.

Evidently, these folks don't find what they're looking for. In honor of my most popular post, I recently updated it to help them along on their noble quest: check it here and review the first paragraph's new link.

Other popular searches that result in people stumbling onto Dreamcrisp include:

poop piles
meat helmets
suburban fetish


and my personal favorite:

don't taze me bro t-shirt

Now, if that isn't a business opportunity, I don't know my ass from a pile of meat helmets. This statistical farce evidently shows that one of the major, as yet unstated, themes here at Dreamcrisp is the human shadow.

Robert Bly describes the shadow as that invisible bag we drag behind us, where we keep all those things we don't like about ourselves, our culture, and our humanity. It's the Dr Jekyll to our everyday ego. You know, the dark side.

I'm all about the dark side. You have to be if dream research is your passion. My focus on perpetual culture shock is actually an attempt to own the rejected parts of myself and society, and call them out when I see them play out on a bigger stage. It's creepy, yes, and it makes me laugh.

This is the dreamwork, ya'll.

3 comments:

Doctor D. said...

THIS JUST IN...MY MANIFESTO:

When the compass is broken, how do we find magnetic north? This, perhaps, is the most important question for young and old people in American today. Many will seek to answer it by not answering it, but by further dissociating and distracting themselves by any means necessary, no matter how crude. Others will seek refuge in the church, or other forms of spirituality and/or moralizing community formation, where personal accountability is ritualistically sacrificed to the false gods of confusion and superstition. There they will find the cult of superego and blinding dogma. Others will attempt unsuccessfully and problematically to adopt the ways of a foreign land. This will result in unfortunate costuming and regionalistic, political, or racist rhetoric. A lonesome few will regard with great scrutiny even their own scrutiny and, with all the guns of the navaronne, come blazing at the monster of meaninglessness with luscious this-just-in American surefire of serene emptiness, truth, internal and external democracy, funkiness, and genius compassion. These will be the survivors and the bearers of a brand new ethos that don’t give a damn about crashing the party. We’d rather crash your mind into the world and your world into the mind. Whatever’s left in the rubble will be our new bedrock.

dungan said...

As the Hamburgler said,
"rubble rubble rubble."

Travis said...

You said "ass" and "meat helmet" in the same sentence. Yet another way for people to find your blog! ;)