It is time to do serious work.

A Description
of Art
as Manifestation
of the Truths
of the Articles
of the Existence
of Everything.

by eric strauss

here rendering into text
the beliefs
of cohry osborne and eric strauss


Introduction

It is time - well past time really - to lay out as many of the specifics of the theory as possible. As the theory is very involved, this is not a task to be undertaken in a single column. But it is certainly a task to be begun in one.

I will start with the concrete, and even when turning to more ephemeral matters, I will ask you, generous reader, to shoulder no conceits. Not in this column. The time to do serious work is now. So I will lay it out as plainly as I can.

My name is Eric and it is my intention to effect massive change in the world. I have long desired widespread recognition, but in recent years the shape of this desire has morphed. The transformation of my very human yearning for fame into a somewhat more noble, though of course equally human, desire to manifest significant, worldwide, trans-generational Good began about 12 years ago. It was then that I first met Cohry.

........

At the time both he and I had largely ignoble motivations. We lived together in a house in Eagle Rock. We partied and pursued women and cool, and occasionally we made art.

Six years later we each were married and living in Temple city. We each worked professional jobs. We each made good money. We eventually started making more art, and doing more drugs, or different drugs anyways, and at long last providence found us each blessedly laid off.

Cohry began recording music in earnest, and so did I. Soon it became clear that Cohry produced extremly compelling recordings, wrote genius songs, and generally kicked ass in the medium of music. Pop Goes Lethal was originally conceived of as a record label to disseminate his work. Our thinking lacked scope.

But our attention became somewhat diverted before we could implement our small ideas. We often spoke about art. We often made art, but we even more often spoke about art. Day in and day out we talked about it. For months and years on end. Specifically, we talked about when, why and how it worked, and when, why and how it didn't. We continually bumped into aesthetic relativism in our conversations.

Eventually we discarded it.

........


Part One -

How the Art of Space shows us what truth looks like.

A very long time ago Cohry noticed something important. It is something that many of us have probably noticed at some point. The best songs, the most cathcy ones, share a quality. The first time you hear such a song, you say to yourself - "I know I've heard this somewhere before." I remember saying that to myself on many occasions regarding many different great songs.

But unlike me and you and everyone else, Cohry didn't shrug that realization off. He was not content with leaving the strange commonality unexplained. Eventually, after many hours of thought and conversation, he concluded the following: "When you write a song, and you think it sounds familiar, that's a sure sign that the song is a keeper. Chances are, all your best songs will 'sound familiar' to you. And it is critical that you embrace those songs, and not kill them or distort their true identity in anyway."

This was a piece of practical advice. And it proved an invaluable rule to me and to a few other people who were paying attention when they heard it spoken aloud. But more importantly, it opened up an area of inquiry that gave birth to the thinking behind Pop Goes Lethal.

Why do these good songs sound familiar when we first hear them? The only conventional wisdom on the subject held that it is because they are familiar. They are "less different" than more complex and counter-intuitive songs. They therefore sound more familiar. Implicit in this is also a belief that they are somehow less valuable. Our society places a great deal of importance on innovation and originality. The implication of the conventional wisdom is that intuitive music is less original.

The reality is that more intuitive music is more true. Something that is true is entirely original, and entirely unique. But it is also perfectly adapted to human consciousness. So it fits. And because it fits so well, it feels familiar. In romantic stories you'll often hear the following dialogue in a scene between a man and a woman on a first or second date. "I feel like I've known you my whole life."

That dialogue reflects the natural human response to truth. We gravitate to truth. We want to hear and see and touch it. We want to read it. We want to smell it. And when we do, it feels so perfect that we can't imagine a time before the truth existed.

I read not too long ago an article (I can't recall about what subject) in a magazine in which the writer commented that it was hard to believe that 60 years ago the song White Christmas didn't exist. And it is, isn't it? It's hard to imagine that song not existing. That's because such a world has never been. White Christmas has always existed. It was just waiting to be manifested into mortal form.

Does that sound too new-agey for you? Are you inclined to dismiss such nonsense out of hand? I don't blame you at all. For most of my adult life I was exactly the same way. But I entreat you to read a little further before finalizing that assessment.

Let's say I have a triangle with two short sides and one long side. The two short sides are 4 inches and 3 inches, respectively. How long is the long side?

It's 5 inches, right? If you remember a bit of math from high school, you probably got that one. How did you figure it out? You used the Pythagorian Therom. a squared + b squared = c squared.

Who made up the pythagorian therom? Pythagoris of course. But who made up the fact that a squared + b squared = c squared? Pythagoras sure as hell didn't. That always was and always will be. No matter where you are or what you are doing, if you have a triangle, the square of one short side, plus the square of the other short side, will equal the square of the long side. Pythagoras manifested that truth into a mortal form - into an equation - but he didn't invent that truth, by any means. He discovered it.

Surely no one will dispute the above fact. The mathematical relationship between the sides of a triangle that Pythagoras describes in his therom is a relationship that was discovered, not invented.

So why is so farfetched to imagine that musical truths work the same way? Why do we have such a strong aversion to thinking of art in these terms?

Well the answer lies in the fact that mathematical truths are demonstrably true. I can use a ruler and show that the therom works every time, in every situation. Therefore, the reasoning follows, mathematical truths deserve to be afforded the special status of "discovered" rather than "created" truth. I cannot demonstrate whether this or that melody is true, therefore I have no reason to believe that it is.

The reality is that melody is just as demonstrably true as mathematics. It just isn't as measurable.

Mathematics is the art of space. It is about nothing but the relationships bewteen objects in space. At it's core, 1+1=2 is an equation that begins with the fact that two objects cannot occupy the same space at the same time. Every object, everyTHING, is a thing precisely because of this fact. This fact is the essence of "distinctness." And mathematics is the art that manifests the truths of distinct things co-existing in space in stasis.

In practice, math often is applied to the mechanical interactions of objects. Because of this, it seems like math has as much to do with time as it has to do with space. This is so because "mechanics" implies time. Mechanics implies something, anything, other than stasis. Mathematics is only true when it describes things in space in stasis. It is absolutely true then. But it isn't very useful. The truths of mathematics are much more useful when they are applied to objects existing in time as well as in space. And for our rough human purposes, the truths are sufficently powerful to be useful even though, in such a context, they are no longer really true.

Does this claim seem outrageous? Surely it cannot be true. There are many demonstrable instances of math accurately predicting outcomes later than now, right? Nope. There are only demonstrable instances of math predicting such outcomes accurately enough. Quantum mechanics is the study of the fact that once you throw time into the mix, math is no longer true. Chaos theory, and systems theory in general, are also studies of this fact. In no real system, ever, no matter what, will mathematics be able to accurately predict the future. Only in virtual systems, can math predict future outcomes.

Well what about that, then? If math can predict outcomes over time in any situation, even a virtual situation, then surely such an occurrance disproves any claim that time necessarily spoils mathematical truths, right?

No. The answer to why lies in the fact that we are using the wrong term to describe a virtual "system." A virtual system - a computer game, for example, is not a system at all. It is instead a series of static frames. Those static frames are programmed to appear in a certain order. That order is programmed to change in static, predefined ways to specific, predefined inputs, each of which is one of a specific, limited set of possible inputs. A virtual system is no more a system than a film is. It may be a film (or more accurately a huge variety of slightly different films) that no one has watched yet, but it is a film nevertheless. Likely, some of the many slightly different films that make up a virtual system will never be watched. But every frame of every film nevertheless already exists, and each frame is absolutely static.

The dominion of math over space and only space is not only not disproven by the fact that math can predict "future" outcomes of virtual systems, but said accurate predictions are, in fact, proof that the "systems" are actually static. I apologize for the circular reasoning. But my goal here, remember, is descriptive, not deductive.

So math, the art of space, is definitely not the art of time. And math, the art of space, definitely does manifest discovered turths about space. About these two facts, no reasonable person ought to object. The only matter that I have presented so far that might ring at all controversial is my use of the word art. People are unaccostomed to thinking about math as an art. Typically, it is tossed in with the sciences. And you will hear no argument from me if you say "Biology is definitely not an art." And I agree that Geology is definitely not an art. But if you'll indulge me this nomenclature for now, I think you'll increasingly find, as we continue on, that the term art, for mathematics, is the only correct one.

But what, then, is the art of time? All this talk about the art of space kind of begs that question, doesn't it?

The art of time is music.

Think on this for now, if you feel so inclined. I will explain it in full next time.

Until then,

Thanks very much for your attention,
and I promise the discussion will get more lively as we proceed.

Eric.

The theory: Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six