“We’re talking about design features and how you put things together in an organization, a business. Does the business look like a rocket or a blob of a government agency?” (Expanded Games, Jon Rappoport)
This piece is based on years of working as a consultant with private clients, and also on the research that led to my three Matrix collections.
People tend to have pre-set ideas about organization.
Some of these ideas stem from understanding what a business needs to do, in order to survive. They’re useful ideas.
But other ideas are “inherited”; they’re automatic; they’re put into action without conscious thought.
The first big principle SHOULD be: organization is an EFFECT of what the entrepreneur is trying to accomplish. Organization isn’t a CAUSE.
There are companies that—if they were airplanes—would find themselves housed in supermarket parking lots. The companies are that weird. They’re organized in ways that really have nothing to do with their aims.
“Well, we must have Department X and Department Y, of course. We’ll figure out later how they contribute to success.”
But later never comes. Those departments turn into significant roadblocks and obstacles.
Often, the entrepreneur doesn’t see himself as a creative organizer.
He doesn’t ask himself this question: “Given what I’m trying to do here, what’s the best way to configure my enterprise so all the energy is moving forward?”
If he did consider that question seriously, he would deploy his imagination and come up with very interesting and vital answers.
The shapes of organizations aren’t written in stone. Except when dull minds put them together.
The entrepreneur is always ready to shift strategies when they aren’t working. He should also be ready to reconfigure his organization when it isn’t working.
Buckle up—here’s a little story most people wouldn’t understand or believe: I once had a client who was ready to start a new business, but he was mired in trying to organize it. I gave him a daily writing exercise: describe all the most absurd and ridiculous ways you could put your business together.
After a few weeks, he suddenly and spontaneously came up with a few highly original and workable ideas—these ideas came out of his imagination, which was stimulated by inventing The Bizarre. “Things that made no sense” led to breakthroughs.
This is an approach people overlook because they are too timid in how they use their imaginations…they try to imagine “standard solutions.” This is a contradiction in terms. Imagination operates by going out on a limb. Then good new ideas arise spontaneously. Most people don’t grasp that. They ignore a whole dimension of their innate power.
You want to know what’s really bizarre? Imagining what already exists.
In the area of organization, people do this every day. And, as a result, they eventually find themselves dealing with all sorts of problems, and they don’t realize where those problems are coming from.
“If art is to nourish the roots of our culture, society must set the artist free to follow his vision wherever it takes him. We must never forget that art is not a form of propaganda; it is a form of truth.”
In January of 1961, as John F. Kennedy’s inauguration approached, his would-be Secretary of the Interior suggested that the poet Robert Frost participate in the ceremony as the first inaugural poet. Eighty-six-year-old Frost telegrammed Kennedy with his signature elegance of wit: “If you can bear at your age the honor of being made president of the United States, I ought to be able at my age to bear the honor of taking some part in your inauguration.” He proceeded to deliver a beautiful ode to the dream of including the arts in government, which touched Kennedy deeply.
Frost died exactly two years later, in January of 1963. That fall, Amherst College invited the President to speak at an event honoring the beloved poet. On October 26, Kennedy took the podium at Amherst and delivered a spectacular speech mirroring back to Frost that deep dedication to the arts and celebrating the role of the artist in society. Perhaps more than any other public address, it affirmed JFK as that rare species of politician who is equally a poet and prophet of the human spirit.
The speech was eventually included in the altogether superb Farewell, Godspeed: The Greatest Eulogies of Our Time (public library) — a compendium of breathtaking adieus to cultural icons like Amelia Earhart, Martin Luther King, Jr., Emily Dickinson, Keith Haring, Eleanor Roosevelt, Charles Schulz, and Virginia Woolf, delivered by those who knew them best.
This original recording of the speech, while short in length, is endlessly ennobling in substance. Highlights below — please enjoy:
Strength takes many forms, and the most obvious forms are not always the most significant. The men who create power make an indispensable contribution to the Nation’s greatness, but the men who question power make a contribution just as indispensable, especially when that questioning is disinterested, for they determine whether we use power or power uses us.
Robert Frost coupled poetry and power, for he saw poetry as the means of saving power from itself. When power leads men towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the areas of man’s concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses. For art establishes the basic human truth which must serve as the touchstone of our judgment.
The artist, however faithful to his personal vision of reality, becomes the last champion of the individual mind and sensibility against an intrusive society and an officious state… In pursuing his perceptions of reality, he must often sail against the currents of his time. This is not a popular role…
If sometimes our great artist have been the most critical of our society, it is because their sensitivity and their concern for justice, which must motivate any true artist, makes him aware that our Nation falls short of its highest potential. I see little of more importance to the future of our country and our civilization than full recognition of the place of the artist.
If art is to nourish the roots of our culture, society must set the artist free to follow his vision wherever it takes him. We must never forget that art is not a form of propaganda; it is a form of truth… In free society art is not a weapon and it does not belong to the spheres of polemic and ideology. Artists are not engineers of the soul. It may be different elsewhere. But democratic society — in it, the highest duty of the writer, the composer, the artist is to remain true to himself and to let the chips fall where they may. In serving his vision of the truth, the artist best serves his nation. And the nation which disdains the mission of art invites the fate of Robert Frost’s hired man, the fate of having “nothing to look backward to with pride, and nothing to look forward to with hope.”
But as notable as the speech itself — for reasons both poetical and political — are the parts Kennedy edited out in his own hand, including this heartbreaking-in-hindsight passage from the second page:
We take great comfort in our nuclear stockpiles, our gross national product, our scientific and technological achievement, our industrial might — and, up to a point, we are right to do so. But physical power by itself solves no problems and secures no victories. What counts is the way power is used — whether with swagger and contempt, or with prudence, discipline and magnanimity. What counts is the purpose for which power is used — whether for aggrandizement or for liberation. “It is excellent,” Shakespeare said, “to have a giant’s strength; but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant.”
Three weeks later, one of history’s ugliest and most arrogant misuses of brute power took place as JFK was assassinated, prompting Leonard Bernstein to pen his timelessly moving address on the only true antidote to violence. But the message at the heart of Kennedy’s speech continued to resonate even as his voice was silenced by brutality. Less than two years later, President Lyndon Johnson signed the National Foundation on the Arts and the Humanities Act, creating the National Endowment for the Arts — the very dream that Frost had dreamt up at JFK’s inauguration.
The JFK speech appears as the opening track on composer Mohammed Fairouz’s spectacular album Follow Poet — titled after a line from W.H. Auden’s beautiful elegy for W.B. Yeats — and can be heard in Fairoz’s wholly fantastic On Being conversation with Krista Tippett:
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from safe harbor. Catch the trade wins in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”
– Mark Twain
It matters not whether it is morning, afternoon, evening, midnight, or the tail-end of a 48-hour session, when the muse arrives, she must be served on the spot.
It just so happens than my Muse, my oh so dearly beloved, insists on knocking on the door at the most unexpected of times – when I need sleep! We have a long history of this, and I’ve gotten used to it, but still. I mean, really, who loves to lie in bed spellbounded by insomnia as The Muse casts her spell?
Those that know their muses, and know them rather well, know that when the modern descendents of daughters of Zeus arrive in all their profound, stylistic and amazing glory, you better get to work! Thou shalt not anger the Goddesses.
It just so happens that when my muse arrives, she means business. The woman knows her stuff, and knows it well. Some days she blows by the door barkinig orders of many types (some in languages I don’t even know or have ever heard of, but I don’t tell her that) while other days she’s a bit more laid back having been aptly served. Tonight, it was just my luck that the last idiot that talked to her said he was “Too tired“ to work at the moment. SERIOUSLY!? The poor soul undoubtedly now shares a chamber in Hell in the Idiot’s Inn next. Of course, given how quickly muses dispose of unworthy souls, my Muse still had a lot of anger to displace. Gee, lucky me.
I learned very early, and very quickly, that no matter what, you better be serious if you dare summon her or she will call upon her lovely long lost uncle, Hades himself, for wasting her time.
Given all that, when The Muse does show up, there’s always a lot of work to be had – all creative types know this. Some muses require the occasional sacrifice, you know, a sheet of paper, a candle, a few pencils. Mine, however, takes her job seriously and merely to walk through the door requires a metric ton of graphite, you know, for those things lovingly called pencils, a veritable forest for the endless stream paper to sacrifice to the Fire Gods, as well as crates of candles of all types – ALL TYPES! And all these things better be natural, she doesn’t do fake ANYTHING. This wicked wondrous woman even likes, especially, wait for it…ESSENTIAL OILS! SERIOUSLY!? [note: remind me to erase the word wicked from the final draft, as she caught me writing it…it’s just too early to get into a fight. Plus, my soul is worth a lot more than one word, you know.]
I’m just a regular guy – I can do pencils, paper, a computer, heck even some music – BUT FRIGGING ESSENTIAL OILS! Next thing you know she’s going to want her own symphony! (Thankfully Symphonies in MP4 format and such are much simpler to find than a veritable orchestra – I feel sorry for the Greeks!)
Don’t tell her I said that last part, or I will be cleaning the catacombs of hell from here henceforth with bones and blood (don’t look at me like that, It’s called HELL for a reason!). She loves her varying delights to be unknown and for others to figure it out for themselves, which is why she loves the self-sufficient creative types. Muses are private individuals you know, which is why we don’t see them often.
In any case, after sauntering through the door minutes ago, and waiting – with her hands on her hip, head tilted slightly and one eyebrow raised – for my sorry ass to get to work, she realized I was still groggy as all hell. SHE WASN’T HAVING IT! She dared cross her arms gave me the look, in my house! MY HOUSE! And don’t you dare ask me what the look is – YOU ALL KNOW WHAT THE LOOK IMPLIES! It’s the Muses’ version of the Death Stare that instantly levels worlds like wrecking balls level buildings.
That meant it was double-time for me! After promptly rolling my eyes – making suure she didn’t see that – I intimated Greaaaat! (You don’t mouth off to the Muse, or you’re in the slammer, sometimes for life! Such as been the unfortunate end of many the fool who messed with the Goddess’ power. Poor, ignorant souls who dared venture on such a wicked and death-ridden road. Such has been the journey of many one-hit wonders, as we have come to learn.)
Here goes, my first piece, in a night, a long long time, which will soon follow with sacrificial offerings of myriad types. If you think essential oils are weird, you DON’T EVEN KNOW what she requires of other individuals who mouth of to her! May the Gods have mercy on their souls skills.
I, uh, gotta go. The point of her heel just started tapping rhythmically by my side, as she stands slanted looking at me wondering why it’s taking me so long to compose this piece. Speaking of piece, PEACE!
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About The Author:
Zy Marquiez is an avid book reviewer, researcher, an open-minded skeptic, yogi, humanitarian, and freelance writer who studies and mirrors regularly subjects like Consciousness, Education, Creativity, The Individual, Ancient History & Ancient Civilizations, Forbidden Archaeology, Big Pharma, Alternative Health, Space, Geoengineering, Social Engineering, Propaganda, and much more.
His other blog, BreakawayConsciousnessBlog.wordpress.com features mainly his personal work, while TheBreakaway.wordpress.com serves as a media portal which mirrors vital information nigh always ignored by mainstream press, but still highly crucial to our individual understanding of various facets of the world.