Hidden Synchronicities (of the Memetic Kind)

From the sketchbook of Franz Kafka,  Untitled - pen & ink - circa 1901.
(Note: The orientation of this drawing which seems slightly askew is the way it appears on the page of Kafka's sketchpad.) 

"The year 2019 brought a sensational discovery: hundreds of drawings by the writer Franz Kafka (1883–1924) were found in a private collection that for decades had been kept under lock and key. Until now, only a few of Kafka’s drawings were widely known. Although Kafka is renowned for his written work, his drawings are evidence of what his literary executor Max Brod termed his 'double talent'."

- From a page devoted to a recent Yale University publication: Franz Kafka, The Drawings. The precise vision evident in Kafka's drawings gives us a window to his remarkable mind. His shapes are so clean and uncluttered they are almost like graphic symbols snapping to our attention by his keen usage of unique symmetries, perspective, and playful angles. And, noting the humor in his linework may be a key to understanding Kafka's approach to his work overall.*

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"By way of example, I shall mention an incident from my own observation. A young woman I was treating had, at a critical moment, a dream in which she was given a golden scarab. While she was telling me this dream I sat with my back to the closed window. Suddenly I heard a noise behind me, like a gentle tapping. I turned round and saw a flying insect knocking against the window pane from outside. I opened the window and caught the creature in the air as it flew in. It was the nearest analogy to a golden scarab that one finds in our latitudes, a scarabaeid beetle, the common rose-chafer (Cetonia aurata), which contrary to its usual habits had evidently felt an urge to get into a dark room at this particular moment."

- Carl Jung, from Synchronicity: An Acausal Connecting Principle, 1960. Possibly one of the most famous synchronicities is Jung's own eureka experience regarding the beetle which tapped on his window just in time to go down in history. Inset right is a photo of the scarabaeid Jung logically saw, the European Rose-Chafer.

But, had he lived in Peru, he might have seen the truly golden scarab in the photo inset left, Chrysina Resplendens.

It is said that the ancient Egyptians from all social classes carried a scarab emblem throughout their lives and then were buried with one after death.

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"Friday, December 17, 2004

Your soul is bound to the Solitary Rose: The Alone.

'When I wake up alone, the shades are still drawn on the cold window pane so they cast 

their lines on my bed and lines on my face.'

The Solitary Rose is associated with loneliness, melancholy, and patience. It is governed by the goddess Merope and its sign is The Sword, or Unrequited Love.

As a Solitary Rose, you may be summed up as a hopeless romantic. You desire love and have so much love to give, but things just never seem to work out the way you want them to. In life, you can be very optimistic, even when things are gray and nothing works out to your expectations."

(What Rose Is Your Soul Bound To?
brought to you by Quizilla)

___________________

I can't say I didn't see this one coming. On the subject of doomed romance, I finally got around to starting Kathi Diamant's Kafka's Last Love."

- From Posthuman Blues, Mac Tonnies reporting his most recent encounter with romantic irony via a weird little personality "oracle" he fell for at the end of 2004. I must confess that (for all reasons) I found this post a little strange when it mysteriously popped up on the screen.

But, considering that Quizilla specialized in quizzes of a similar nature, and, keeping in mind that Quizilla thrived for 12 years (2002-2014), Mac was not the only one attracted to psycho-magical babble when searching for insight into the mystery of his own nature. Today there are many (allegedly) mystical cyber-oracles out there offering similar insights into our mysterious realms. For more regarding the psychology of quizzes, try this article.

(Continued below the jump.)

Franz Kafka Meets Oscar Meyer

Dana Tonnies was rummaging around in her vault recently, and unearthed this gem she allowed me to share with you. It's a short story Mac Tonnies wrote in 9th grade - as hilarious as it is ironic - and is, as follows:

"The Human Hotdog

by

Mac Tonnies

I screamed as the huge. yellow plastic mustard container came near, its rigid nozzle dripping with globs of its gelatinous, slimy contents. Frantically, I leaped to the side just as a glistening beam of rancid mustard splashed onto the tile floor next to me. With a mild rush of air, the ominous bottle whizzed over my head, Its shiny surface coated with a sickening, powdery crust of dried mustard. A whine-like noise pierced the silence as a second stream of mustard escaped the container, but this one made contact. I winced when I realized I was smothered in the putrid, yellow gel. Its pungent, spicy odor made me feel light headed, but I continued my struggle. I watched disgustedly as, the flying bottle soared overhead like some sinister aircraft, the word "French's" gleaming from behind the layer of flaking mustard. I realized with a wave of sickish fear that I was being transformed into a human hotdog...

I dove out of the way as a deluge of chunky, mucous-like relish poured from the ceiling and splattered over my head. I spit an unnatural large pickle chunk out of my mouth and continued stumbling around, only to be confronted by a towering "Heinz" ketchup bottle.

All hope and resistance drained out of me, and I let the mammoth bottle clump its watery. bubbly contents over me. Weak and exhausted, I collapsed on the floor, an oozing mass of red ketchup flowing over my back. I noticed with a faint shudder that my body had grown cylindrical and rubbery. My skin had turned somewhat elastic and leathery, and my limbs had begun dissolving back into my body. Without question, I knew what was happening. I was undergoing a strange genetic metamorphosis. I was becoming a hotdog! I staggered to my feet, droplets of quivering ketchup and mustard dripping off my body as I began a hazardous, aimless journey into fear.

My entire anatomy numb and leathery, I crawled across the tile floor. My brain felt heavy and liquid-like. My eyesight was declining. My facial features were diffusing into hotdog-like simplicity. As my mind drifted away into unconsciousness, I was only vaguely aware of the two huge, sponge-like buns that whirled into view and constricted me into a perfectly tube-shaped slab of meat.

The transformation was complete. I am now a human hotdog."

And, there you have it, folks. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I suppose it's no wonder Mac eventually became a vegetarian!

Many thanks to Dana Tonnies!

The "Franz Kafka of the UFO World"

"We are as forlorn as children lost in the wood.  When you stand in front of me and look at me, what do you know of the grief's that are in me and what do I know of yours.  And if I were to cast myself down before you and tell you, what more would you know about me than you know about Hell when someone tells you it is hot and dreadful?  For that reason alone we human beings ought to stand before one another as reverently, as reflectively, as lovingly, as we would before the entrance to Hell."

- Franz Kafka 

Just for the, uh, hell of it, last night I did a search on Mac's blog for posts mentioning Franz Kafka. I came up with a whole page full of them. He told me once he felt like the reincarnation of Kafka and would someday make a pilgrimage to Prague, Kafka's city. The surreal story, "Metamorphosis" was one of his favorites... text of which can be found here, and in the Kafka link above.

The beetle-clock pictured is one of a series of amazing insect time-pieces by Michael Libby that Mac would've gone ga-ga over. Others can be found here.