christmas songs:

• Good Friday by CocoRosie

More CocoRosie music on iLike

• The Spirit Is Near by Devendra Banhart

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• Must Be Santa by Bob Dylan

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Antiwar Activists March In Response To Obama's Announcement

Mitchell Jones
ANT 471
Final Paper

Ethnology Against the State: Anthropological Anarchism

Koyaanisqatsi
koy • ahn • i • skaht • see
noun (from the Hopi Language)
1. life disintegrating
2. life out of balance
3. life in turmoil
4. crazy life
5. a state of life that calls for
another way of living.
-(http://www.awok.org/)

The man
Of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys:
Power, like a desolating pestilence,
Pollutes whate'er it touches, and obedience,
Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth,
Makes slaves of men, and, of the human frame,
A mechanized automaton.
-
- Percy Bysshe Shelly (An Anarchist FAQ 2009)

There are very few anarchist anthropologists. Marxist theory seems to dominate, not only anthropology, but other academic disciplines as well. However, there is a small tradition of anarchist anthropology, although not officially named as such. Anarchist theory offers an evolutionary model based not on competition and survival of the fittest, but on mutual cooperation and reciprocity. Anarchist anthropology looks at egalitarian, stateless societies as desirable, natural, functioning systems. Simply put, anarchy works, otherwise it wouldn’t have made up 99.5% of human history (Azat 2000). In the Oxford English Dictionary, definition b. of anarchy is, “A theoretical social state in which there is no governing person or body of persons, but each individual has absolute liberty (without implication of disorder)” (“Anarchy” 2009). This theoretical social state was once a reality and it can be again. In an article called “Anarchism and Anthropology” anarchy is defined in Anarchy: The Journal of Desire Armed:

The term anarchy comes from the Greek, and essentially means 'no ruler.' Anarchists are
people who reject all forms of government or coercive authority, all forms of hierarchy
and domination. They are therefore opposed to what the Mexican anarchist Flores Magon
called the 'sombre trinity' -- state, capital and the church. Anarchists are thus opposed to
both capitalism and to the state, as well as to all forms of religious authority. But
anarchists also seek to establish or bring about by varying means, a condition of anarchy,
that is, a decentralised society without coercive institutions, a society organised through a
federation of voluntary associations (“An Anarchist FAQ” 2009).

According to Pierre Proudhon anarchy is “the absence of a master, of a sovereign” (An Anarchist FAQ 2009). Anarchist anthropology has something to offer the academy as a new theoretical approach and as a vehicle for social criticism.
Today the capitalist state is encroaching on the way of life of many indigenous peoples who have lived in their way for hundreds or even thousands of years. Bakunin said of the state, “Any State, under pain of perishing and seeing itself devoured by neighbouring [sic] States, must tend towards complete power, and, having become powerful, it must embark on a career of conquest, so that it shall not be itself conquered; for two powers similar and at the same time foreign to each other could not co-exist without trying to destroy each other. Whoever says conquest, says conquered peoples, enslaved and in bondage, under whatever form or name it may be” (1950). We see this process working itself out today with globalization and its destruction of indigenous cultures. Through the work of anthropologists with these peoples an alternative to the capitalist state can emerge. Throughout 99% of human history stateless, egalitarian societies existed (Azat 2000). Some theorists describe these societies as anarchist. I will now explain what is meant by anarchism.
I will first describe what anarchism is not. It is not chaos, and it is not the state. Errico Malatesta writes, “[S]ince it was thought that government was necessary and that without government there could only be disorder and confusion, it was natural and logical that anarchy, which means absence of government, should sound like absence of order” (An Anarchist FAQ 2009). This is an essentially flawed premise steeped in “society-centrism.” “Society-centrism” is the idea that dominant interpretations of the state are essentially biased toward a pro-state point of view. This idea was purported by the sociologist Theda Skocpol (Barkey and Parikh 1991). She points to the state as a “central explanatory variable.” This theory describes the state as an actor with its own goals. This actor is completely outside society. According to Badie & Birnbaum, the state is “a unique social invention devised to solve the specific crises of the western European societies at a particular point in their development” (Barkey and Parikh 1991: 529). Clearly the state did not originate in Western Europe, but the idea that a state is formed out of crisis is a valid interpretation of the origins of the state. Robert Paul Wolff describes a Weberian notion of the state in In Defense of Anarchism. He writes, “The state is a group of persons who have and exercise supreme authority within a given territory. Strictly, we should say that a state is a group of persons who have supreme authority within a given territory or over a certain population” [italics his] (1970: 3).
Anarchism is also not Marxism. Anarchism is concerned, not with advancing one individual to achieve political power, but with operating on anarchist principles. Anarchists define themselves by what they believe, i.e.: anarcho-syndicalists, libertarian-socialists, green-anarchists etc., and not who they follow, i.e.: Leninists, Maoists, Trotskyites etc. (Graeber 2004). Marxism also involves state level political organization, whereas anarchism takes a much smaller-scale form.
Anarchism, according to anthropologist David Graeber consists of five principles: autonomy, voluntary association, self-organization, mutual aid and direct democracy (2004: 2). Many of what have until recently been called “primitive” societies have adhered to these principles. I will focus on reciprocity as an economic concept, or mutual aid, and non-coercive political power, or direct democracy, for this essay.
According to the Yorkshire Anarchist Federation, “Mutual aid is a concept of human interaction that comes from Peter Kropotkin. It is based on the idea that animals, including humans, can survive better and in harmony if they work together to achieve a common purpose” (“Jargon Buster” 2009). The OED defines it as, “Support or assistance given and reciprocated (in later use esp. as a social or political mechanism)” (OED 2009). Direct democracy has been defined as, “A system in which people in a political community come together in a forum to make policy decisions themselves, with no intervening institution or officials” (“Democracy and Citizenship >>Glossary” 2009). Normally, the anarchist organizing principle for such a forum is consensus. Consensus has been defined as “agreement in the judgment or opinion reached by a group as a whole” (“Consensus” 2009). The consensus-model of direct democracy, however, does not necessitate that everyone have oneness of opinion. On the contrary, differences of opinion are welcome, but usually a compromise can be made that everyone can live with.
The Darwinian evolutionary model purports that survival of the fittest is the order of the day for the development of species. This has been interpreted in different ways. One example is social Darwinism. T. R. Malthus’ Essays on Population influenced Darwin and established the idea that “on the whole, the best live” (Claeys 2000: 223). Darwin’s theories have been used to back up individualist as well as collectivist politics. Herbert Spencer actually coined the term “survival of the fittest” (Claeys 2000). This term has been extrapolated to “might is right” and used by capitalists and statists to justify their exploitation of socio-economically weaker, or “less fit” peoples.
Anarchist anthropologists and biologists have denounced this theory. The anthropologist Alfred Radcliffe-Brown or “Anarchy Brown,” as he was called in his school days was one such scientist. He studied kin relationships in South Africa and found that joking was one way to diffuse potentially disruptive behavior. He wrote, “The show of hostility, the perpetual disrespect, is a continual expression of that social disjunction which is an essential part of the whole structural situation, but over which, without destroying or even weakening it, there is provided the social conjunction of friendliness and mutual aid” (Perry 1975: 63).
He got the term mutual aid from Peter Kropotkin, an anarchist who wrote during the early half of the 20th century, around the time that Radcliffe-Brown was a student at Trinity College. Kropotkin wrote in his book Mutual Aid on the subject of human societies as well as animal social organization and found their history to be one of cooperation. This cooperation, according to Kropotkin, gave these species evolutionary advantage. Kropotkin writes:

As soon as we study animals -- not in laboratories and museums only, but in the forest
and the prairie, in the steppe and the mountains -- we at once perceive that though there is
an immense amount of warfare and extermination going on amidst various species, and
especially amidst various classes of animals, there is, at the same time, as much, or
perhaps even more, of mutual support, mutual aid, and mutual defence [sic] amidst
animals belonging to the same species or, at least, to the same society (1902).

He goes on to state, “The animal species, in which individual struggle has been reduced to its narrowest limits, and the practice of mutual aid has attained the greatest development, are invariably the most numerous, the most prosperous, and the most open to further progress” (1902). He cites a study done by a Russian zoologist by the name of Kessler in which Kessler concludes that “All classes of animals, especially the higher ones, practise [sic] mutual aid” using empirical evidence collected from burying beetles, birds and mammalia (Kropotkin 1902). Humans are no exception. Kropotkin states, “It is evident that it would be quite contrary to all that we know of nature if men were an exception to so general a rule: if a creature so defenceless [sic] as man was at his beginnings should have found his protection and his way to progress, not in mutual support, like other animals, but in a reckless competition for personal advantages, with no regard to the interests of the species.” (1902).
Radcliffe-Brown applied these concepts to his ethnological and ethnographic work. He wrote, “A social relation does not result from a similarity of interests, but rests either on the mutual interest of persons in one another, or on one or more common interests, or on a combination of both of these” (Perry 1975: 63). Radcliffe-Brown also proposed that the primary factor in the maintenance of society is not governmental pressure, but social pressure. He writes, “…what is called conscience is thus in the widest sense the reflex in the individual of the sanctions of society” (Perry 1975: 63). This means that the skeptical analysis of anarchism, that people would just kill each other, is wrong. Social pressure, instead of coercive pressure would enforce the norms and values of society. The difference between coercive pressure and social pressure is akin to the difference between the two kinds of law described by Roderick Long: “Law may be subdivided into voluntary and coercive law, depending on the means whereby compliance is secured. Voluntary law, as the name implies, relies solely on voluntary means, such as social pressure, boycotts, and the like, in order to secure compliance with the results of adjudication. Coercive law, on the other hand, relies at least in part on force and threats of force” (Long 1994). Thus, the inherent violence of the state can be illustrated. Long is not an anarchist, in fact he advocates laissez-faire capitalism, but his principle still applies.
Other anthropologists have taken the idea of reciprocity further. The French anthropologist Marcel Mauss wrote on gift-giving economy in his book The Gift: Forms and Functions of Exchange in Archaic Societies. In it he writes, “In Scandinavian civilization, and in a good number of others, exchanges and contracts take place in the form of presents; in theory these are voluntary, in reality they are given and reciprocated obligatorily” (1950: 3). He describes the process of gift giving as potlatch, using the Chinook term. In the Maori culture all goods possess a spiritual power that is exchanged along with the gift. This spiritual power is called hau and the physical gift is called tonga. A Maori juridical expert explains it best:

The tonga and all gods termed strictly personal possess a hau, a spiritual power. You give me one of them, and I pass it on to a third party; he gives another to me inturn, because he is impelled to do so by the hau my present possesses. I for my part, am obliged to give you that thing because I must return to you what is in reality the effect of the hau of your tonga (Mauss 1950: 11).

This system of reciprocity is an alternative to the system of capitalist exchange. In his conclusion Mauss is very optimistic about the elevation of the social over the individual. He writes, “The brutish pursuit of individual ends is harmful to the ends and the peace of all, to the rhythm of their work and joys – and rebounds on the individual himself” (1950: 77). He then critiques capitalism saying that men have not been machines for very long, exchanging their labor for less than it is really worth. He says that the worker expects to be fairly rewarded for his efforts, and that the individualistic type of economy does not do this. He states that there is self interest in gift giving, but it is only self interest in the sense that what is good for the whole is good for the individual (Mauss 1950). This elevation of the social over the individual is an essential element of anarchist thought. The voluntary nature of gift giving maintains an economy that is not coercive.
Another French anthropologist, Pierre Clastres, wrote about the institution of the chief and his role in mutual aid and gift giving. In his book Society Against the State he writes that the chief in so-called “Indian” societies is required to give most of what he has for the greater good of the community. There are no societies without political power, but there is a difference between coercive power and non-coercive power. He states, “The model of coercive power is adopted… only in exceptional circumstances when the group faces an external threat” (Clastres 1987: 30). Normal civil power is based on consensus and its function is pacification. The chief exists to maintain the peace and harmony of the group (Clastres 1987). The chief must also give of his belongings to help the greater good of the community. Therefore, greed and power are incompatible (Mauss 1987). In this way the chief is not so much a ruler, but a servant of the people.
This is similar to David Graeber’s concept of counterpower. Counterpower, according to Graeber, “stands guard over what are seen as certain frightening possibilities within the society itself: notably against the emergence of systematic forms of political or economic dominance” (2004: 35). He states that all societies are to some extent at war with themselves and this war is the playing out of the relationship between power and counterpower. He gives the example of Joanna Overing’s work with the Piaroa, who have what she describes as an anarchist society. However, despite their emphasis on egalitarianism and simultaneous individual autonomy they insist that their culture was the creation of an evil god. They believe that their war is one that plays itself out in the cosmos where wizards have to fend off evil spirits who seek to gain power (Graeber 2004). Thus, counterpower is imagined as a spiritual concept. Freedom is a constant struggle between power and counterpower, or between the individual and the evil spirits.
The argument is also influenced by Antonio Gramsci’s concept of hegemony and counter-hegemony. Gramsci argues that there are two factors in society: 1)the state and 2) civil society. The state is a coercive apparatus represented by dictatorship + hegemony. Civil society is dominated by the hegemony of the state, or the ruling class, and thus legitimates the state (Mastroianni 2002). However, there is another force, that of counter-hegemony, that exists in the realm of the proletariat. This kind of hegemony exists to subvert the state. This view differs from the anarchist view, however. Gramsci says that a permanent proletarian hegemony must exist to oust the bourgeois, which he demonizes (Pozo 2007). In the anarchist paradigm there is a constant interplay between power and counterpower that must perpetually exist, without one winning over the other. Gramsci’s concept of hegemony, therefore, is flawed in that he believes that a hegemony of the proletariat will ultimately lead to a successful egalitarian revolution. Put another way, a “dictatorship of the proletariat” is necessary for everyone to have an equitable share. This is contradictory.
Clastres states, “It is in the nature of primitive society to know that violence is the essence of power. Deeply rooted in that knowledge is the concern to constantly keep power apart from the institution of power, command apart from the chief” (1987: 154). In his conclusion he writes, “…what the Savages exhibit is the continual effort to prevent chiefs from being chiefs, the refusal of unification, the endeavor to exorcise the One, the State” (1987: 218)
He also describes marriage relationships as the way of establishing kinship ties to avoid warfare in “Indian” societies. Each community has a certain level of autonomy, but they are also interconnected through the process of exogamy.
The crux of his argument is that the assumption that primitive societies lack something is essentially wrong. He opposes the unilinear evolutionary notion that primitive societies are in an embryonic state and that the state is in the adult phase (Clastres 1987). Thus, the unilinear evolutionary model is wrong. There are many things that are desirable about so-called primitive society that we can learn from.
Finally, Marshall Sahlins writings in his book Stone Age Economics have fueled neo-primitivist critiques of society, although he never associated himself with the neo-primitivist movement. Sometimes called “green-anarchism,” neo-primitivism asserts that agriculture was the beginning of the downfall of society.
John Zerzan is one proponent of “green-anarchy.” He points to the fact that it seems that for about two and a half million years there was little technological development. He writes, “It strikes me as very plausible that intelligence, informed by the success and satisfaction of a gatherer-hunter existence, is the very reason for the pronounced absence of ‘progress’” (Zerzan). Zerzan writes of Sahlins’ work, “A nearly complete reversal in anthropological orthodoxy has come about, with important implications. Now we can see that life before domestication/agriculture was in fact largely one of leisure, intimacy with nature, sensual wisdom, sexual equality, and health. This was our human nature, for a couple of million years, prior to enslavement by priests, kings, and bosses” (Zerzan).
In the opening chapter of Stone Age Economics Sahlins argues that capitalism is built around scarcity, but that Neolithic cultures had economies based on abundance. Perhaps his most surprising claim is that the average amount of time spent in the procuring of food for the Bushmen of Africa was about four to five hours a day. The rest of their time is spent in leisure and sleep activities (Sahlins 1972). This shows how inefficient capitalism is and how much more “affluent” hunter-gatherers were. Affluence is described by Sahlins as the ability to have one’s needs fulfilled. When you eliminate the need for useless commodities that has been manufactured by capitalist interests, then your needs are more easily met. Anarchists believe in a system based on egalitarian principles and reject the capitalist claim of scarcity.
As we’ve seen from the anthropologists mentioned above, anthropologists have taken as much from anarchists as anarchists have taken from anthropologists. Although anarchist-anthropology is not yet an established theoretical framework, “fragments,” as Graeber calls them, are there. After all, it can be said that 99.5% of human history has been anarchy, or society without inequality and a State (Azat 2000). The origins of authority and inequality are unclear, but an anarchist-archaeology may be able to help answer this question. One hypothesis is that hierarchy develops when we see people proclaiming that there is one supreme God and that they are the only ones who can communicate with God. This gives them transcendent power, which gives an apparent legitimacy to their claim to authority (“Absolute” 1997). John Zerzan reflects this thesis when he writes, “When specialists alone claim access to such perceptual heights as may have once been communal, further backward moves in division of labor are facilitated or enhanced. The way back to bliss through ritual is a virtually universal mythic theme, promising the dissolution of measurable time, among other joys. This theme of ritual points to an absence that it falsely claims to fill, as does symbolic culture in general” (Zerzan). This “regression” is what the “society-centric” paradigm calls “progress.”
There are anarchists in the academy today. The linguist Noam Chomsky, archaeologist Theresa Kintz as well as David Graeber, mentioned above, are two prominent anarchist academics. However, many academics fear openly espousing anarchist rhetoric, for fear of repercussions. Yale did not renew David Graeber’s contract in 2005, possibly for political reasons (“David” 2009). For now anarchist theoretical discourse is not sanctioned by the academy, even though anarchism has a lot to offer it. Theresa Kintz states:

As far as what a revolutionary perspective has to offer archaeology, well, a sense of purpose. It could/should be so much more than elites satisfying the intellectual curiosity of other elites. Radical archaeologists are now pushing the discipline to acknowledge the role our narratives play in society, highlighting the role of the past, the politics of the past, in the present. I’ve always been at odds with archaeology over its lack of self-awareness, its reluctance to make our work relevant in the real world. It’s funny, my fellow archaeologists see me as a radical green anarchist, someone who comes to do archaeology with an overtly political agenda, an outsider who has infiltrated the ivory tower, really. On the other side, because I study and work in the profession, my comrades the radicals will often see me as part of an academic establishment that defends the status quo, sort of an outsider here, too. I try to walk a fine line in order to bring these two camps together as I do see they can help each other, even if I get bashed from both sides (“Artifacts”).

Thus, there is distrust of academia coming from the anarchist community as well as distrust of anarchism coming from the academic community. However Theresa Kintz says, “So yes, I do believe the study of the past, through archaeology, has the potential to enlighten and provoke thought, even action, and I insist this doesn’t require an academic setting. It is the core idea of learning as much as one can about the world you live in that’s important to promote” (“Artifacts”) . There is the possibility of rapprochement between anarchism and academia, but until then anarchism will remain a rouge theory that is marginalized by the academy. 
Works Cited:

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http://www.fragmentsweb.org/TXT2/reciprtx.html
An Anarchist FAQ. Infoshop.org. Web. 28 September 2009.
http://www.infoshop.org/faq/secAcon.html
“Anarchy.” OED Online. Web. 2 December 2009.
http://dictionary.oed.com/cgi/entry/50007981?single=1&query_type=word&queryword
=anarchy&first=1&max_to_show=10
“Artifacts and Anarchy: The Implications of Pre-History.” Insurgent Desire. Web. 9 December
2009. http://www.insurgentdesire.org.uk/artifacts.htm
Barkey, Karen and Sunita Parikh. “Comparative Perspectives on the State.” Annual Review of
Sociology. 17. 1991.
Bakunin, Mikhail. Marxism, Freedom and the State. Trans. K. J. Kenafick. Freedom Press. 1950.
Anarchy Archives. Pitzer College, 28 October. 2001. Web. 23 September. 2009.
http://dwardmac.pitzer.edu/anarchist_Archives/bakunin/marxnfree.html.
Bakunin, Mikhail. “The Paris Commune and the Idea of the State.” New York: Alfred A. Knof.
1871. Anarchy Archives. Pitzer College, 12 September 2001. Web. 23 September 2009.
http://dwardmac.pitzer.edu/Anarchist_Archives/bakunin/pariscommune.html
Claeys, Gregory. “The ‘Survival of the Fittest’ and the Origins of Social Darwinism.” Journal of
the History of Ideas. 61.2 (2000).
Clastres, Pierre. Society Against the State. Trans.: Robert Hurley and Abe Stein. New York:
Zone Books. 1987.
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“David Graeber.” Absolute Astronomy. Web. 6 November 2009.
http://www.absoluteastronomy.com/topics/David_Graeber
“Democracy and Citizenship >> Glossary.” American Politics. Web. 2 December 2009.
http://www.laits.utexas.edu/gov310/DC/glossary.html
Graeber, David. Fragments of an Anarchist Anthropology. Chicago: Prickly Paradigm Press,
2004.
“Jargon Buster.” Yorkshire Federation of Anarchists. Web. 2 December 2009. http://yorks-afed.org/jargon-buster/
Kropotkin, Peter. Mutual Aid: A Factor of Evolution. 1902. Anarchy Archives. Pitzer College, 1
June 2006. Web. 16 September 2009. http://dwardmac.pitzer.edu/Anarchist_archives/kropotkin
Long, Roderick T. The Nature of Law. 1994. Libertarian Nation Foundation. Web. 2 December
2009. http://libertariannation.org/a/f13l2.html
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http://www.english.emory.edu/Bahri/hegemony.html
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Halls. London: W. W. Norton. 1990.
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Emergence of the Nation-people.” Capital and Class. 91. (2007): 55-89.
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Funk the War 3: The Funk Strikes Back!
No Escalation in Afghanistan!
Host:
Rochester SDS
Type:
Causes - Protest
Date:
Friday, December 4, 2009
Time:
3:15pm - 4:30pm
Location:
Washington Square Park
City/Town:
Rochester, NY
Description
We will not be silenced.

On December 4, Rochester Students for a Democratic Society and friends will return to the streets of Rochester in protest of the United States' military escalation in Afghanistan. Obama plans to march another 40,000 troops into the streets of Kabul (without a permit) to escalate an illegal unjust and morally reprehensible war - spreading terrorism throughout Central Asia and diverting much-needed resources away from our own community. When confronted with more war and violence we will dance for peace. Bring ya hula-hoops, drums, banners, and flags.

Meet at 3:00-3:15 at Washington Square Park
Dance party begins at 3:30

This roving dance party will feed into another march starting at the War Memorial about 4:30 (Check out the other march SDS is co-sponsoring and and come to both!: http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=185747863699#/event.php?eid=181707195815&ref=ts )

FUNDING FOR EDUCATION, NOT FOR WAR AND OCCUPATION!

PKD's exegesis

Living Without Free Will - this guy totally persuaded me to be a determinist. If you believe in free will you must read this book!

"What national medium could possibly work to inculcate mild Satanic doctrines to such a large audience, located literally from 'Sea to Shining Sea'?

How were these doctrines being taught? Rock music changed its direction in 1964, with the advent of the Beatles, followed later by Heavy Metal bands. Rock music proved to be the perfect medium by which Satan could instill his doctrines because it reached millions of teens and young adults. The Beatles led the charge to glorify drug usage, and soon many other groups joined in the fun. Drug usage exploded during this era. "

"The Beatles apparently took Crowley's teaching very serious — Beatle John Lennon, in an interview, says the "whole idea of the Beatles" was — Crowley's infamous "do what thou wilt":

"The whole Beatle idea was to do what you want, right? To take your own responsibility, do what you want and try not to harm other people, right? DO WHAT THOU WILST, as long as it doesn't hurt somebody. . ." ("The Playboy Interviews with John Lennon and Yoko Ono", by David Sheff and G. Barry Golson, p. 61)

Paul McCartney and Lennon were Satanists as well

Photo to left: Most people recognize the Satanic hand sign which John Lennon is making at the bottom right; but, few people realize that the "ok" sign which Paul McCartney is making at the bottom left is also very Satanic. The "ok" sign is actually three 6's, each of the three vertical fingers forming an individual 6. 666!"

- That proves it! The Beatles are a tool of Satan!

Haunted Hartwell

IIIIIIIIII'mmmmmmm BAAAAAAAAACK!

FRAGMENTS OF AN ANARCHIST ANTHROPOLOGY by David Graeber

Chaos and the Psychological Symbolism of the Tarot

by Gerald Schueler, Ph.D. © 1997

Abstract.

The Tarot deck contains archetypal symbols that can be related to the analytical psychology of the Swiss psychologist, Carl Jung. The Tarot deck, especially the major arcana or trump cards, can be used effectively in therapy. The client, with the assistance of the therapist, conducts a reading or uses several cards to tell a story and then discusses possible meanings of the symbols in his or her own words. The therapist then relates the symbolic meanings given by the client to the client's problem in much the same manner as in Jungian dream analysis. This therapeutic process can be explained by using a chaos model. Using a chaos model of therapy, a period of psychic instability is deliberately induced by the therapist through stimulation of the imagination via the Tarot symbols. Concentration on the Tarot symbols induces bifurcation points that the therapist then uses to direct change toward desired attractors. This is similar to the well-known techniques of paradoxical communication, paradoxical intervention, and prescribing the symptom, all of which induce a temporary condition of psychic instability that is required for a bifurcation.

Introduction

Loye and Eisler (1987) see the roots of modern chaos theory, as it pertains to social science, extending all the way back to the ancient Chinese Book of Changes or I Ching. The I Ching, the oldest oracle still in use today, (Bannister, 1988) was used to make predictions by casting stalks, straws, or sticks. Today, this is usually done by throwing coins (Cleary, 1986). In the West, the oldest oracle still in use today is the Tarot card deck.

The Tarot is a deck of cards which can be used for meditation, psychic stimulation, or divination. It also can be used as a psychological tool to look inside the unconscious (Bannister, 1988; Nichols, 1984). The Tarot is medieval man's equivalent of today's highly respected Rorschach and Thematic Apperception tests (Schueler & Schueler, 1994). Wang (1978) describes the Tarot as "a system accepted by many respectable sources such as the school of Carl Jung, which views the Tarot images as agreeing perfectly with the archetypes of the collective unconsciousness" (p. 8).

The Swiss psychologist, Carl Jung, saw all of the Tarot images as "descended from the archetypes of transformation" (Jung, 1959/1990, p. 38). These archetypes include several of the primary archetypes that are encountered during Jung's individuation process, a process of psychological maturation similar in nature to the aging of the physical body (Jacobi, 1942/1973). These include the shadow, the anima and animus, and the wise old man. The Tarot also contains symbols representing other important archetypes of transformative processes such as the hero, the sacrifice, rebirth, the mother, and the Self. In Jung's analytical psychology, these archetypes comprise the major dynamical components of the unconscious which affect the human psyche in many different ways.

Modern chaos theory addresses complex systems, which are systems with a large number of interrelated parts. It also addresses dynamic systems. Every complex system, and especially every living system (living systems are usually referred to as self-organizing systems), is also a dissipative structure. Ilya Prigogine won the Nobel Prize for chemistry in 1977 for his work on dissipative structures, which he defined as any structure that takes on and dissipates energy as it interacts with its environment. A dissipative system, unlike one that conserves energy, gives rise to irreversible processes such as the growth of organisms (Nicolis & Prigogine, 1989). All systems that exhibit disequilibrium and self-organization are dissipative and have a dissipative structure (Briggs & Peat, 1989, p. 138). Dissipative systems are those which are able to maintain identity only because they are open to flows of energy, matter, or information from their environments (Prigogine & Stengers, 1984).

Not only is our body a dissipative system, but our psyche as well. Jung designated the ego as an ego-complex, because of the numerous components and processes with which it is comprised, and taught that the ego was one of many complexes that exist in the psyche. "The psyche is a self-regulating system that maintains its equilibrium just as the body does" (Jung, 1954/1985, p. 152). Designating the psyche to be a self-regulating system, Jung (1968) states that "Dreams are the natural reaction of the self-regulating psychic system" ( p. 124). By assuming the psyche to be a complex dynamic system, as well as a dissipative system, we can look at it through the lens of modern chaos theory.

Chaos, as an archetype, is well known in the Tarot where it is depicted fully in card 16, a trump card titled the Lightening Struck Tower. According to Wanless (1986), this card represents transformation. Jung taught that we can become conscious of the unconscious contents in our psyche by examining the symbols that come to us in our dreams. He details many of these archetypal symbols in his Symbols of Transformation (1956).

The Tarot

The traditional Tarot is a deck of 78 cards which are divided into two main sections: a major arcana and a minor arcana. The major arcana is a set of 22 picture cards which are also called the greater arcana, trumps, atouts (from the Egyptian atennu (Wallis Budge, 1920) meaning a book or part of a book), or triumphs. These cards are pictorial representations of various cosmic forces such as Death, Justice, Strength, and so on, and contain archetypal symbolism. Fifty-six cards of the minor arcana are divided into court and suit cards. The sixteen court cards are comprised of a King, a Queen, a Knight, and a Knave (or Page) for each of the four suits of the deck. The remaining forty cards are divided into the four suits called: Pentacles (also known as deniers, coins, or disks), Cups (coupes), Swords (epees), and Wands (batons or scepters). The French terminology stems from the famous Marseilles deck which originated in the late fifteenth century (Giles, 1992). The suit cards are numbered from 1 (ace) to 10 for each of the four suits. The suit cards represent specific opportunities and lessons (Wanless, 1986). The minor arcana cards are used to represent people, relationships, finances, action, energies, and forces (Schueler & Schueler, 1987).

The Tarot has been called the oldest book known to man (Papus, 1970). According to legend, (Schueler & Schueler, 1994) the original cards comprised "chapters" in a book known as The Book of Thoth. Thoth was the ibis-headed god of wisdom and knowledge of the ancient Egyptians. At the founding of Egypt, unknown centuries ago, he is said to have given man the knowledge of medicine, astrology, language, art, and various sciences such as mathematics and engineering. The original chapters of The Book of the Dead are said to have been written by Thoth.

After several thousands of years, the Egyptian empire began to crumble. As things began to fall apart, the god Thoth again intervened. He desired to keep alive the knowledge and wisdom that he had provided his people. To save his contribution to mankind, he summarized all of the accumulated wisdom of the Egyptian empire onto a series of 22 tablets. He did this by using symbols and pictures instead of words. These tablets became known as The Book of Thoth. As the empire decayed into ignorance, the tablets found their way into a band of roving people later known as gypsies. The gypsies copied the symbols of the tablets onto cards which became the major arcana of the Tarot deck (Crowley, 1944; Papus, 1970; Schueler & Schueler, 1989).

Although several colorful theories exist today, there is no historical evidence to support any of them, and the true history of the Tarot is largely unknown. Whatever the actual origin of the Tarot deck may be, it is known that a deck of fortune telling cards were mentioned by a Swiss monk in 1377 AD (Giles, 1992). It is also known that Girilamo Gargagli wrote in 1572 about tarochhi cards being used to designate psychological types (Giles, 1992).

The Tarot later found its way into the Hebrew Kabbalah, probably because the 22 cards of the major arcana could be shown to correspond with the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet. During the nineteenth century, many occultists tried to demonstrate a higher use for the cards than divination (Papus, 1970; Levi, 1896). Eliphas Levi (1896) tried to show that the cards of the major arcana were connected to the Qabalistic Tree of Life. This idea was further carried out by a secret occult group in England known as the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn (Wang, 1978; Crowley, 1944; Regardie, 1937).

Aleister Crowley was initiated as a member of the Golden Dawn in 1898. He left it in 1907 to form his own magical organization. In 1944 his Tarot deck, illustrated by Frieda Harris, together with his explanatory book titled The Book of Thoth were published.

According to Wanless, (1986) a well-known expert on the Tarot deck, "The Thoth Deck by Aleister Crowley is a classic tarot symbology ... Its symbolism is Egyptian, Greek, Christian, and Eastern. It is more useful than many contemporary decks which represent a particular cultural or philosophical point of view" (p. 1). He also points out the multi-dimensionality of the deck's symbolism, which has associations with the Hebrew Kabbalah as well as astrology, and credits the 22 major arcana or trump cards as representing "universal principles of life and 'archetypal' personality types" (p. 2). Giles (1994) says that the Thoth deck has "swirling backgrounds and haunting images" which "create a unique impression; those drawn to the deck find it a very powerful reading instrument" (p. 191). She points out that while many decks exist, with a myriad of minor variations, the Tarot has "core images" that are part of a "mental structure" that is fairly consistent across the different deck designs. Wanless (1986) notes that "The strength of tarot is that its symbolism is subject to constant redefinition and evolution" (p. 1). In short, the Tarot images can change or evolve over time, but otherwise they are quite consistent. This is in agreement with Jung's (1959/1990) concept of the archetypes of the collective unconscious which are consistent across humanity while slowly evolving with the body over time.

Jungian Dream Analysis

Jung (1956/1976) taught that dream images must be understood symbolically. Furthermore, the instinctual basis of these symbols are "primitive or archaic thought-forms" (p. 28). Jung differentiated a sign from a symbol. A true symbol can never be fully explained, while a sign can be fully explained insofar as the conscious ego is concerned. Symbols themselves are archetypal, and they are expressed verbally in terms of signs. We can say, then, that a sign is an individual's interpretation of an archetypal symbol.

"Symbols are the language of dreams. In dreams, the unconscious is revealed in symbols, and the key to understanding a dream is knowledge of the symbol" (Boa, 1992, p. 42). The color of a symbol is also important. Jung believed that the correlation between colors and functions varies between cultures and even between individuals. With Europeans, for example, blue is the color of thought, while red is the color of emotion, green is the color of sensation, and yellow is the color of the intuition (Jacobi, 1942/1973). Von Frantz notes that "dreams generally point to our blind spot" (Boa, 1992, p. 15). They seldom tell us what we already know. To understand a dream, she divides the dream content into thirds:

We compare the dream to a drama and examine it under three structural headings: first, the introduction or exposition -- the setting of the dream and the naming of the problem; second, the peripeteia--that would be the ups and downs of the story; and finally, the lysis--the end solution or, perhaps catastrophe. (Boa, 1992, pp. 33-34)

Jung (1968) states that "In our dreams we are just as many-sided as in our daily life, and just as you cannot form a theory about those many aspects of the conscious personality, you cannot make a general theory of dreams" (p. 124). He then points out that while personal dream symbolism varies with the dreamer, universal dream symbolism is possible of interpretation. "On the collective level of dreams, there is practically no difference in human beings, while there is all the difference on the personal level" (Jung, 1968, p. 124). When analyzing a dream, Jung (1954/1985) suggests that we "renounce all preconceived opinions, however knowing they make us feel, and try to discover what things mean for the patient" (p. 157). We must take into consideration the patient's personal philosophy, religion, and moral convictions whenever we discuss dream symbolism.

Jung (1953/1977) treats dream symbolism on two separate levels: the objective level and the subjective level. The first level is analytic. On this level, the dream content can be broken up into memory-complexes that refer to external situations. The second level is synthetic. In these situations, the dream contents are detached from external causes and must be treated in terms of archetypal symbols.

Nichols (1984) says that "The pictures on the Tarot Trumps tell a symbolic story. Like our dreams, they come to us from a level beyond the reach of consciousness and far removed from our intellectual understanding" (p. 7). According to this view, the Tarot Trump cards can be interpreted in the same manner as Jungian dream analysis.

A Chaotic Systems Model of Therapy

Therapy can be defined as "a systematic and intentional attempt, using a specific cluster of interpersonal skills, to assist another person to make self-determined improvements in behavior, affect, and/or cognitions" (Kottler & Brown, 1985, p. 44). Egan (1975/1990) describes a Helping Model of the therapeutic process which emphasizes action that leads to valued outcomes through a nine-stage process.

Goals must be the client's goals, strategies must be the client's strategies, and action plans must be the client's plans. The helper's job is to stimulate the client's imagination and to help him or her in the search for incentives. (p. 49)

A chaotic systems model is one that uses the findings of modern chaos theory. Such a model can be used to describe the therapeutic process. The chaos theory of sensitive dependence on initial conditions, for example, describes how small stimuli can evoke massive responses. This finding has been used to explain the functioning of the olfactory system wherein a very small amount of stimuli, received by the olfactory bulb, is detected and magnified until it can be interpreted by the brain as a distinct smell (Freeman, 1991). Furthermore, testing food smells on rabbits has demonstrated that undergoing new experiences can actually change memory of older experiences. These two findings have led to a new understanding of the Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) treatment (Flint, 1994).

The methodology used in EMDR is straightforward and relatively simplistic. The patient holds his or her attention on a particular trauma or bodily sensation while watching the therapist's fingers moving in a back-and-forth motion. About 20 to 40 back-and-forth motions constitute one repetition of the technique. After several repetitions, the pain of a trauma or sensation is often lessened dramatically. Theoretically, the memory of a painful traumatic experience causes a unique pattern of neurological activity in the brain. Watching a moving finger, while in the relative safety of a therapeutic environment changes, or modifies the pattern, producing a lessening of the associated pain in many cases.

In chaos theory, the behavior of a complex system can be shown graphically on a plot called phase space. Each point on this plot represents the state space or specific condition of the system using primary system parameters (the main parameters that describe a system's behavior). When a time history is used (when time is plotted along the x-axis), each point along the y-axis represents the state of the system at a given time. These plots are called trajectories and their shapes can tell us a lot about the behavior of the system. Sometimes several possible trajectories of a system will converge toward a point or region. Such points and regions are called attractors because they appear to attract a systems's trajectory. The surrounding region of an attractor is called a basin.

Using the chaos theory of attractors, we can define neurological responses in the brain as attractors which give rise to particular behaviors (Flint, 1994). In a complex system such as the psyche, many attractors can be found, some in series with each other, and some giving rise to bifurcations (changes in one's world view following periods of indecision). In a theraputic environment, these can be observed by the therapist in terms of their evoked sensory and motor responses.

In this model, we can define motivation, for example, as the state space of the psyche that exists within a specific environmental situation, in which the brain is destablized enough to evoke the low-level background activity of its neural networks or basins which correspond to previously learned activity that is meaningful in the current situation. In this state space, or phase space of the psyche, a small stimulus can generate a massive response resulting in information going out to all regions of the brain. In turn, this usually results in some kind of corresponding behavioral response. When the behavior results in beneficial situations (e.g., those that enhance survivability or that lead to pleasant or desired situations), the strength of the attractors is proportionally increased.

In this model, the client would describe one or more specific behavioral problems to the therapist who, in turn, would work with the client to form specific goals to work toward and measurable plans to reach those goals. These goals would become the desire attractors, and intermediate goals would be agreed upon as basins. The task of the therapist would then be to help guide the client from existing attractors to the desired ones through suitable bifurcations.

One of the tools that could be used in this process is the symbol. Tarot symbols, for example, can be used to stimulate the imagination of the client. During the short periods of instability (points of possible bifurcation) due to imaginative stimulation, small suggestions by the therapist would help drive the client toward the desired attractors. This is similar to the well-known therapeutic techniques used in family counseling described by Goldenberg & Goldenberg (1980/1991) of paradoxical communication, paradoxical intervention, and prescribing the symptom. All of these techniques use the paradox to induce periods of psychic instability in the client. However, the intended outcome of these interventions is not to create periods of uncertainty, but rather to allow for win-win outcomes for the client. Using the chaos model, the uncertainty can be used to perturb the patient's psyche into the basin of the desired attractor.

Tarot Symbolism

The primary symbolism within the major arcana is as follows:

1. The Fool. The Marseilles deck shows the fool as a court jester holding a baton and standing near a cliff. This symbolism suggests silliness, but perhaps a deliberate silliness. The popular Waite deck is more complex. It shows a young wanderer holding a rose and a walking stick, to which a bag is tied, walking off a cliff. A dog romps at his side. This suggests a happy and carefree attitude that could be dangerous. The Golden Dawn deck shows a naked child holding the reins of a wolf while plucking fruit from a tree. This symbolism suggests that the fool is innocence, and that pure innocence can check animal passions while surviving quite nicely on what nature provides. In the Deck of Thoth, the fool is shown in a green suit and gold shoes. A crystal is between his horns, and he is falling. He holds A Wand in his right hand (power) and a flaming pine cone in his left hand (purity). The card shows a tiger, a dove, a vulture, a butterfly, a rainbow, children, flowers, grapes, a crocodile, and ivy. This card portrays Jung's archetype of the divine child such as the infant Christ. The imagery also suggests the archetypal eternal youth or Peter Pan. Nichols (1984) calls the symbolism of the fool, the archetypal wanderer.

2. The Juggler or Magus. This is the Magician, the divine Messenger, Mercury, Hermes, and Thoth. The Marseilles deck shows a parlor magician going through a magic act of some kind with various `tools of the trade' on a table. This is the popular view of the magician -- one who does sleight of hand, and who employs gimmickery. The Waite and Golden Dawn decks are more sophisticated. They both show a magician in robes, with his four traditional weapons: a sword, a wand, a cup, and a pentacle. The Thoth deck shows him with a naked golden body, smiling, with winged feet standing in front of a large caduceus. In his right hand he hold a style and in his left hand, a papyrus. The card shows a monkey, swords, cup, wand, and pentacle. This card represents the will. The imagery portrays the archetype of the magician as described by Moore and Gillette (1993). It also suggests the archetype of the trickster.

3. The High Priestess. This is usually the goddess Isis or Artemis, the huntress. The Marseilles deck shows the goddess Junon (Juno), wife of the god Jupiter and a peacock. The symbols here are lunar and suggest a lunar vision (for example, the intuition as opposed to common sense). In the Thoth deck, she is shown naked, clothed only in a white Veil of Light, and seated on a throne. Her bow rests in her lap. Also shown are arrows, four crystals, a net (symbolic of the Egyptian goddess, Neith), a camel, flowers, and fruit. This card represents the intuition and the imagery suggests the archetypes of the unconscious in a general sense and the anima in a specific sense. Nichols (1984) calls the symbolism in this card, the archetype of the virgin.

4. The Empress. Most all decks agree that this card is symbolized by a mature woman wearing a crown and seated on a throne. This suggests the feminine side of the psyche or any strong feminine authority. She is the ultimate feminine creator and provider. In the Thoth deck she is shown clothed in a pink blouse, a long green skirt, a Zodiac belt, and a gold crown. She sits on a lunar throne holding a lotus in her right hand. Beneath her is a tapestry with fleurs-de-lys and fishes. Also shown are birds, bees, a shield, showing a white eagle, a mother pelican with her young, and revolving moons. Behind her is a door. This card represents nature. The imagery suggests Jung's archetype of the mother.

5. The Emperor. Most all decks agree that this card is symbolized by a mature man wearing a crown and seated on a throne. This suggests the masculine side of the psyche or any strong masculine authority. He is the ultimate masculine creator and provider. In the Thoth deck, he sits on a throne with right leg crossed over left. His arms and head form an upright triangle, while his legs form a cross. He holds a scepter (power) in his left hand and an orb, with a Maltese cross, in his right hand. The main color is red. The card shows a ram, a shield with a two-headed eagle, a flag, a lamb, coins, and bees on his blouse. The imagery of this card suggests Jung's archetype of the father as well as the hero.

6. The Hierophant. Like the Emperor, this card is usually shown as a mature man wearing a crown and seated on a throne. The Marseilles deck shows the god Jupiter. Some decks show this as the Pope or some other religious leader which clearly distinguishes the difference between the Hierophant and the Emperor; the former is religious while the latter is civil or social. In the Thoth deck, he is shown fully clothed sitting on a throne holding a wand with three circles. A priestess is shown standing before him together with a child dancing within a pentagram within a hexagram. Also shown is a five-petalled rose encircled by a snake, elephants, a bird, and the four fixed signs of the Zodiac. Nine nails are shown at the top. This card represents the conscience. The imagery suggests the archetype of the religious teacher or Christ. It also suggests the archetype of the king as described by Moore and Gillette (1990/1991). Nichols (1984) says that this card, as well as that of the Hermit, represent Jung's archetype of the wise old man.

7. The Lovers, or Twins, or Brothers. The Marseilles deck shows Cupid about to shoot one of his famous arrows into a young couple. All decks show a man and woman together, and the general theme is love. This card suggests the union of opposites, especially masculinity and femininity, anima and animus. Cupid is the symbol of romance, but one that is usually governed more by emotions than by rational thought. The Thoth deck shows the union of male/Leo/fire with female/Scorpio/water represented by a king and queen as well as a white child and a black child. The Hermit is shown blessing the couples. Cupid is shown symbolizing blind love. Also shown is a cup, a sword, an Orphic egg with snake, an eagle, a lion, Eve, and Lilith. Bars are shown in the background. This card represents what Jung called the soul. The imagery suggests the archetype of the lover (Moore & Gillette, 1990/1991).

8. The Chariot. Most decks agree that the main symbol of this card is a chariot. Usually a charioteer is also shown. The theme is powerful deliberate motion toward a fixed goal and thus a victory over space. The card symbolism suggests the spiritual impulse which sooner or later will drive man to seek his true nature. In the Thoth deck the canopy of the Chariot is the blue of the feminine Sephirah, Binah. The pillars are the four pillars of the universe. The scarlet wheels are fiery creative energy. The Chariot is pulled by four sphinxes (the four Cherubs). The charioteer wears amber-colored armor and he holds a Holy Grail of amethyst. On his head is a crab, and on his armor are ten stars. This card represents Jung's persona. The imagery suggests the archetype of the warrior (Moore & Gillette, 1990/1991).

9. Justice or Adjustment. The main symbol for this card is a balance or scale used for measuring weight. The scale is held by a goddess who holds an upright sword. The symbolism represents the law of cause and effect; those natural forces which seek a balance or moderation in all things. The figure shown in the Thoth deck is the feminine complement of the Fool, a young and slender woman. She is poised on her toes and crowned with the feathers of Maat, the goddess of justice. On her forehead is the Uraeus serpent. She is masked (Harlequin) and holds a magic Swords in both hands between her thighs. She is wrapped in a Cloak of Mystery. Before her is a large two-pan balance. This card represents the conscience. The imagery suggests the archetypes of justice, fairness, and balance.

10. The Hermit. Almost all decks agree that the symbolism of the Hermit is an older man in a robe holding a staff in one hand and a lamp in the other. The lamp is a symbol of the inner light of truth. The theme here is the wise old sage, the inner guiding light of conscience illumined by the intuition. In the Thoth deck he is shown in the shape of the Hebrew letter Yod. He wears a cloak the color of Binah. He holds a lamp whose center is the sun. Before him is an Orphic egg with coiled snake. The background is a field of wheat. Also shown is a spermatozoon in the form of a serpent wand, and Cerberus the three-headed dog. This card represents withdraw and meditation. The imagery of this card suggests Jung's archetype of the wise old man (Nichols, 1984).

11. The Wheel of Fortune. The main symbol of this card is a wheel. The wheel is a symbol for cycles, and the card represents the law of cyclic manifestation. The original symbols of this card were probably meant to portray the doctrine of reincarnation, as well as other cyclic processes. In the Thoth deck stars line the top of the card through which lightning strikes into a mass of blue and violet plumes. In the center is a wheel with 10 spokes. On the wheel are a sworded sphinx (sulphur), Hermanubis (mercury), and Typhon (salt). The wheel is the Eye of Shiva. This card represents evolution and the imagery suggests the archetypes of fate and destiny.

12. Strength or Lust. Most decks use the symbol of the lion in this card. The lion, as the "king of beasts," is a traditional symbol for strength. Some cards also show a man, while others show a woman, who is controlling the lion in some way. The theme here is controlled strength, or inner resolve that is directed toward a goal. The Thoth deck shows a naked young woman riding on the back of a seven-headed lion. She is overcome with ecstasy. She hoLds the reins in her left hand and the Holy Grail in her right hand. In the background are the bloodless images of all of the saints. Along the top are shown ten serpents. This card represents courage and inner strength. The imagery suggests the archetypes of goodness and endurance.

13. The Hanged Man. The Hanged Man is just that, a man hanging upside down from a wooden scaffold of some kind, usually in the form of a cross. Most cards show the man with his left leg bent to form a cross with his legs. The cross is the traditional symbol for sacrifice. The theme here is the deliberate undergoing of a selfless sacrifice, usually for the purpose of helping others. The Thoth deck shows a naked man hanging upside down with his right leg crossed over his left to form a cross. His arms are outstretched to form an equilateral triangle. A green Disk is at each of his five extremities. He is suspended from an Egyptian ankh (symbol of life) and a serpent is wrapped around his left foot. The background is green air over green water shot with white rays from Kether. Beneath the man sleeps a coils snake. The imagery of this card portrays the archetypes of sacrifice and initiation. It also suggests the archetype of the dying gods such as Christ.

14. Death. This card symbolizes death by a human skeleton. Sometimes the skeleton is shown holding a sickle to suggest that death levels all living beings. The theme is the process of death, which is an ending or completion of something that we have known. Death also implies change of some kind, a transformation. The Thoth deck shows death as a dancing skeleton bearing a scythe. He wears the Crown of Osiris, the Egyptian god of the dead and is shown in the waters of Amenti, an Egyptian after-death state. The sweep of his scythe creates bubbles which contain the seeds of new life. Shown is a snake, a fish, a scorpion, a lily, and an onion. This card represents death and sudden change. The imagery suggests Jung's archetype of rebirth.

15. Temperance or Art. This card is usually depicted by an angel who is pouring water from one vase into another. The water is the "water of life" and its being poured suggests that a necessary change of some kind is taking place. The imagery of this card not only imply the skill or ability that is required to 'get through' unwanted experiences, but those needed to turn such experiences to your advantage in some way. The Thoth deck shows Diana the Huntress, the Great Mother of Fertility, and the Many-Breasted. She wears a golden crown with a silver band and is shown split into two halves. Her left hand pours white gluten from a cup while her right hand holds a lance/torch dripping blood. The alchemical symbols of blood and gluten mix in a cauldron. At her feet are a white lion and a red eagle. This card portrays the archetype of the union of opposites as defined in Jung's Mysterium Coniunctionis (1963/1989).

16. The Devil. The main symbol here is a devil. The Marseilles deck shows a stereotyped, middle-age Christian concept of Satan complete with horns and a forked tail. The Waite deck is much more refined, showing the stereotyped version of a devilish black magician. Most cards also show a naked man and woman chained to a block. The theme is Black Magic and the card represents slavery or confinement. The imagery of this card suggests the wrongness of an overinflated ego. The Thoth deck shows a goat with large spiral horns and a third eye in his forehead who is the god Pan Pangenetor, the All-Begetter. Behind him is the trunk of a tree. Before him is a staff topped with a winged Horus. Below him are two globes each containing dancing human figures. The globes and tree together form a large phallus. This imagery here also represents bondage, and suggests the archetype of the libido or psychic energy, including sexual energy in the Freudian sense.

17. The Lightening Struck Tower. Almost all decks agree on the basic theme of this card. A stone tower is shown being struck by a bolt of lightening with two people falling from the destruction. The card suggests bad luck of all kinds, but especially destruction and ruination. In at least one sense, the card represents the Fall of Man, because the lightening bolt is a symbol of an "act of God" that forces man to fall from his protective tower, itself a symbol of a spiritual environment, into mortality. The Thoth deck shows the destruction of a tower by fire. Broken figures fall from the tower. At the bottom of the card is the destruction of the old by lightning and fire. In the bottom right corner are the jaws of a fire-breathing dragon. At the top is the Eye of Horus/Shiva. Also shown are a dove with olive branch, and the lion-headed Gnostic god, Abrasax. This card represents catastrophe. The imagery of this card suggests the archetype of chaos.

18. The Star. The main symbol here is a star. One or more stars is shown over the head of a goddess who is pouring water from two vases into a pool. The goddess is usually shown naked, although the Marseilles deck shows her partially clothed. She is Isis, the goddess of nature, and the waters are the Waters of Life. She is shown returning individual water into a collective pool, thus indicating that nothing in life is ever lost. The theme here is one of hope. The Thoth deck shows the naked Egyptian goddess Nut. Her right hand is held high, and she pours water from a gold cup onto her head. Her left hand is held low, and she pours the immortal liquor of life from a silver cup onto the junction of land and water. Behind her is a celestial globe on which is a seven-pointed Star of Venus. In the left-hand corner is a seven-pointed Star of Babalon. This card represents hope and promise. The imagery suggests Jung's archetype of the star. According to von Franz (Boa, 1992) Jung taught that the star symbolizes that part of the personality that survives death; the spiritual part of the psyche.

19. The Moon. The main symbol here is the moon, and the cards of all decks amplify the lunar theme with various symbols usually associated with the moon. Most cards show two towers with a stream running between them to illustrate the idea of relationships. A scorpion, lobster, crayfish, or scarab, is often included to represent the forces of regeneration. One or two dogs or jackals are often shown to suggest the idea of the subconscious and the underworld. The theme here is the astral world of the Kabbalists, the realm of illusions and dreams. The Thoth deck shows a Gateway of Resurrection. The bottom of the card shows the beetle-headed Khepera pushing the sun upward through the waters. Above stands dual Anubis-gods who guard the path that is a stream of serum tinged with blood. They stand before black towers at the threshold of life and death. At the path's end are nine drops of impure blood each in the shape of the Hebrew letter Yod. This card represents the instincts. The imagery suggests the archetypes of dreams and the irrational as well as Jung's archetype of the moon. According to von Franz, the moon is an archetypal symbol for the anima (Boa, 1992).

20. The Sun. The main symbol of this card is the sun which is almost always shown with extending rays, and sometimes with a face to suggest solar intelligence. The Marseilles deck shows a young couple together under a sun. The Waite deck shows a naked child riding a horse under a sun. The Golden Dawn deck shows two naked children holding hands under a sun. The sun, as the generator of light and heat, is the symbol for life and the forces of conscious creativity. The Thoth deck shows a green mound beneath a flaming 12-rayed yellow sun. Two winged children dance together on the mound, but a wall prevents them from the summit. At the feet of each child is a rose and cross. Around the card are the signs of the Zodiac. The imagery of this card suggests the archetypes of growth, success, and abundance as well as Jung's archetype of the sun.

21. Judgement. Most decks represent Judgement with an angel blowing a horn above a group of people. The heralding of a trumpet call, as an act of divine judgement, is suggested here. The Waite deck shows people standing in coffin-like boxes which suggest that an after-death judgement is implied. The Golden Dawn card shows people chest-deep in water implying a renewal or regeneration. In the Thoth deck, around the top of the card is the body of the goddess Nut, the star goddess. The child-god Harpocrates stands beneath her in outline, and Horus is shown sitting on a throne. A winged globe is shown below him. At the bottom of the card is the Hebrew letter Shin containing three human figures. The imagery of this card suggests the archetypes of evaluation, reward, and completion.

22. The Universe. The last card of the major arcana includes the symbolism of the four animals of the Apocalypse and of the vision of Ezekiel. These are the bull, the lion, the eagle, and man. A naked woman stands within a circular wreath. In the Marseilles deck, this woman is the fourth animal, but in most decks she stands apart as a central figure. Her symbolism as the mother of the universe is clearly suggested in the Golden Dawn deck where the wreath is a ring of twelve globes which are obviously the twelve constellations of the Zodiac. In the Thoth deck, the universe is symbolized by a naked dancing maiden at the center of the card. Her hands manipulate a spiral active/passive force. In each corner is one of the four Kerubim. About the maiden is an ellipse of 72 circles. In the lower center is the House of Matter. Her right foot stands on the head of a snake. The card suggests a wheel of light within a yoni (a Hindu feminine symbol). The imagery of this card suggests the archetypes of wholeness, synthesis, and perfection.

Summary

The Tarot deck contains archetypal symbols that can be related to Jung's analytical psychology. Use of the Tarot in therapy can be effective by having the client conduct a reading under the guidance of the therapist, or tell a story based on the imagery of several trump cards drawn at random. Then the therapist encourages the client to discuss possible meanings of the symbols in his or her own words. The therapist can then relate the symbolic meanings to the client's problem in much the same manner as in Jungian dream analysis. Nichols (1984) suggests that the sensory nature of the imagery can be improved by coloring the pictures. To do this, the therapist would provide colorless images of the cards (a Xerox copy, for example) and crayons or colored pencils. The client could then color in the pictures as they tell their story.

The therapeutic process can also be improved by using a chaos model approach in which periods of psychic instability are deliberately induced through stimulation of the imagination via the Tarot symbols. The Tarot symbols are so rich that one or more are likely to produce archetypal stimulation in the client's psyche; a "drawing up from the depths" (Jung, 1956/1976, p. 234). Such previously unconscious contents can take the form of either attractors or repellors. In this way, concentration on Tarot symbols can induce psychic bifurcation points that the therapist can then use to direct behavioral changes toward mutually agreed upon attractors. Small stimuli by the therapist at such points can cause large changes in later behavior.

References

Atkins, P. W. (1984). The Second Law. New York: Scientific American Library.

Bannister, R. (1988). Untitled essay on Tarot used in Jungian psychotherapy. Downloaded from CompuServe.

Boa, F. (1994). The way of the dream: Conversations on Jungian dream interpretation with Marie-Louise von Franz. Boston: Shambala.

Cleary, T. (Trans). (1986). The Taoist I Ching. Boston: Shambala.

Crowley, A. (1944/1985). The Book of Thoth: A Short Essay on the Tarot of the Egyptians. York Beach, MA: Samuel Wiser.

Egan, G. (1975/1990). The skilled helper: A systematic approach to effective helping. Pacific Grove, CA: Brooks/Cole.

Flint, G.A. (1994). A chaos model of the brain applied to EMDR. Psychoscience, 1 (2), pp. 119-130.

Freeman, W.J. (1991). The physiology of perception. Scientific American. (264), pp. 78-85.

Giles, C. (1992/1994). The Tarot: History, mystery, and lore. New York: Paragon House.

Goldenberg, I. & Goldenberg, H. (1980/1991). Family therapy: An overview. 3rd ed. Pacific Grove, CA: Brooks/Cole.

Jacobi, J. (1942/1973). The psychology of C.G. Jung: An introduction with illustrations. Manheim, R. (Trans). New Haven, CN: Yale University Press.

Jung, C.G. (1954/1991). The development of personality: Papers on child psychology, education, and related subjects. Hull, R.F.C. (Trans). Bollingen Series XX: The Collected Works of C.G. Jung. 17. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Jung, C.G. (1954/1966). The practice of psychotherapy: Essays on the psychology of the transference and other subjects. Hull, R.F.C. (Trans). Bollingen Series XX. The Collected Works of C.G. Jung. 16. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Jung, C.G. (1956/1976). Symbols of Transformation. Hull, R.F.C. (Trans). Bollingen Series XX The Collected Works of C.G. Jung. 5. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Jung, C.G. (1959/1990). The archetypes and the collective unconscious. Hull, R.F.C. (Trans). Bollingen Series XX. The Collected Works of C.G. Jung. 9 (Part 1). Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Jung, C. G. (1963/1989). Mysterium coniunctionis. Hull, R.F.C. (Trans). Bollingen Series XX. The Collected Works of C.G. Jung. 14. Princeton University Press.

Jung, C.G. (1968). Analytical psychology: Its theory and practice, the Tavistock lectures. New York: Vintage Books.

Kottler, A. & Brown, R.W. (1985). Introduction to therapeutic counseling. Pacific Grove, CA: Brooks/Cole.

Loye, D. & Eisler, R. (1987). Chaos and transformation: Implications of nonequilibrium theory for social science and society. Behavioral Science, 32, pp. 53-65.

Levi, E. (1896/1990). Transcendental magic: Its doctrine and ritual. Waite, A.E. (Trans). York Beach, MA: Weiser.

Moore, R. & Gillette, D. (1993). The magician within: Accessing the shaman in the male psyche. New York: Avon.

Moore, R. & Gillette, D. (1990/1991). King, warrior, magician, lover: Rediscovering the archetypes of the mature masculine. New York: HarperSanFrancisco.

Nichols, S. (1980/1984). Jung and tarot: An archetypal journey. York Beach, MA: Samuel Weiser.

Nicolis G. & Prigogine, I. (1989). Exploring complexity: An introduction. New York: W.H. Freeman and Co.

Papus. (1970 ed). The Tarot of the Bohemians: Most ancient book in the world. Morton, A.P. (Trans). Hollywood, CA: Wilshire Book Co. Regardie, I. (1937/1988). The golden dawn: A complete course in practical ceremonial magic. St. Paul, MN: Llewellyn.

Schueler, G. & Schueler, B. (1989). Enochian Tarot. St. Paul, MN: Llewellyn.

Schueler, G. & Schueler, B. (1994). The truth about Enochian Tarot. St. Paul, MN: Llewellyn.

Waite, A.E. (1959). The pictorial key to the Tarot: Being fragments of a secret tradition under the veil of divination. Secaucus, NJ: Citadel Press.

Wallis Budge, E.A. (1920/1978). An Egyptian hieroglyphic dictionary in two volumes. New York: Dover.

Wang, R. (1978). An introduction to the Golden Dawn Tarot. York Beach, MA: Samuel Weiser.

Wanless, J. (1986). New age Tarot: Guide to the Thoth deck. Carmel, CA: Merrill-West.

The Reptilian Pact


Beware your own heroes. They cannot betray you because they were never loyal to you in the first place. They are not leaders, they are pawns.

My Type is
INFP
Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Perceiving

Idealist Portrait of the Healer (INFP)
Healers present a calm and serene face to the world, and can seem shy, even distant around others. But inside they're anything but serene, having a capacity for personal caring rarely found in the other types. Healers care deeply about the inner life of a few special persons, or about a favorite cause in the world at large. And their great passion is to heal the conflicts that trouble individuals, or that divide groups, and thus to bring wholeness, or health, to themselves, their loved ones, and their community.

Healers have a profound sense of idealism that comes from a strong personal sense of right and wrong. They conceive of the world as an ethical, honorable place, full of wondrous possibilities and potential goods. In fact, to understand Healers, we must understand that their deep commitment to the positive and the good is almost boundless and selfless, inspiring them to make extraordinary sacrifices for someone or something they believe in. Set off from the rest of humanity by their privacy and scarcity (around one percent of the population), Healers can feel even more isolated in the purity of their idealism.

Also, Healers might well feel a sense of separation because of their often misunderstood childhood. Healers live a fantasy-filled childhood-they are the prince or princess of fairy tales-an attitude which, sadly, is frowned upon, or even punished, by many parents. With parents who want them to get their head out of the clouds, Healers begin to believe they are bad to be so fanciful, so dreamy, and can come to see themselves as ugly ducklings. In truth, they are quite OK just as they are, only different from most others-swans reared in a family of ducks.

At work, Healers are adaptable, welcome new ideas and new information, are patient with complicated situations, but impatient with routine details. Healers are keenly aware of people and their feelings, and relate well with most others. Because of their deep-seated reserve, however, they can work quite happily alone. When making decisions, Healers follow their heart not their head, which means they can make errors of fact, but seldom of feeling. They have a natural interest in scholarly activities and demonstrate, like the other Idealists, a remarkable facility with language. They have a gift for interpreting stories, as well as for creating them, and thus often write in lyric, poetic fashion. Frequently they hear a call to go forth into the world and help others, a call they seem ready to answer, even if they must sacrifice their own comfort.

Princess Diana, Richard Gere, Audrey Hephurn, Albert Schweiter, George Orwell, Karen Armstrong, Aldous Huxley, Mia Farrow", and Isabel Meyers are examples of a Healer Idealists.

Disclose.tv Real Inter-Dimensional Travel Caught on Tape Video


A LOOK AT THE INTERDIMENSIONAL DOORWAY

By Dennis Rau, Lisa Osborne and Shar




Jung Typology Test

Zermatism : is a form of pseudoscience which was intended to show that all languages came originally from a single ancient language and that all art could be distilled down to a single series of universal symbols. The theory was conceived by a man called Stanislav Szukalski who was born in Gidle in Poland around 1893 and died in 1987. "According to his theory, differences in races and cultures were due primarily to inter-species breeding between near-perfect ancestral beings and the Yetinsyn (humanoid creatures reputed to live in remote Himalayan valleys which some people call Abominable Snowmen".

Stanislav Szukalski's talent had an incredible talent for art and apparently when he was only six years old, he was sent to the head-teacher for whittling a pencil. on close examination of this pencil, the headmaster discovered that Stanislav had carved a tiny but near-perfect figure. The figure had obviously impressed the head-teacher, who subsequently contacted the local newspaper instead of punishing him.

The newspaper duly did an article on the young art prodigy. Szukalski then went on to the Fine Arts Academy in Krakow, where he studied art and won two gold medals.

After moving to Chicago in 1913 he picked up English from reading National Geographical magazines, and very shortly became hailed as an art genius, along with other Renaissance luminaries such as Ben Hecht, Carl Sandburg and Clarence Darrow. By the time he reached thirty there was already a major monograph published about his work.

In order to pursue his sculpture he returned to Poland in 1927, but this was prematurely cut short by the Siege of Warsaw in 1939. Unfortunately much of his early work was lost during the German invasion, but luckily, he managed to escape back to the United States and to California where he went to live with his American wife.

Szukalski died in relative obscurity in 1987 after having spent much of his life relentlessly producing art which was to help prove his hypothesis that all human culture was indeed derived from a single origin on Easter Island after the biblical 'Deluge of Noah'. In his lifetime he illustrated thirty volumes of text devoted to his pseudoscience which he invented and called Zermatism.

A year later his ashes, along with those of his wife, were scattered at Rano Raraku, the sculptor's quarry on Easter Island.
http://www.paranormality.com/zermatism.shtml

Szukalski believed that all human culture derived from post-deluge Easter Island. Zermatism postulated that mankind was locked in an eternal struggle with the "Yetinsyny", offspring of Yeti and humans, who had enslaved humanity from time immemorial. Szukalski used his considerable artistic talents to illustrate his theories, which, despite their lack of scientific merit, have gained a cult following largely on their aesthetic value – an irony likely to have infuriated the hyper-curmudgeonly Szukalski. Among Szukalski's admirers are Leonardo DiCaprio, who sponsored a retrospective entitled "Struggle" at the Laguna Art Museum in 2000, the Church of the SubGenius, which incorporates the Yetinsyny elements of Zermatism, and the band Tool, who recommended[1] "any collection of works you can find by this man is well worth the effort".

Recent Investigations by Long Island Paranormal Investigators:

State University of New York at Brockport

Historical Facts: The State University of New York at Brockport, NY began its existence in 1841 while known as the Brockport Collegiate Institute. In 1942 it became known as SUNY Brockport. The University resides in upstate New York, alongside the Erie Canal. Today the University is a bustling community which supports the town that essentially grew up around it.

Like many colleges, SUNY Brockport is said to have a lesser known paranormal population. One of the most well known of these campus locations is Hartwell Hall. This building is one of the oldest on the campus. Over the years the cleaning staff has claimed to hear people in the halls, and doors opening and closing when no one else in the building. One person has claimed to feel someone grab her shoulder while she was cleaning a classroom. When she turned around there was no one else there. The same person claims that one day she slipped off a ladder and some unseen force caught her and gently placed her on the ground. Hartwell Hall used to have an active pool in its basement. While it’s no longer there, splashing is sometimes still heard by those who enter the basement.

One other account of paranormal activity is from a suite at Mortimer Hall. Mortimer Hall is one of the older dorm complexes on the campus. The suite is said to be the home of a spirit who committed suicide there in the 1970s. A brief examination of this story seems to support the suicide claim. The girls staying inside the suite claimed to have personal items disappear and reappear shortly after in different locations. The personal effects weren’t moved by the girls. One of the students woke up one night to a bright light hovering above her bed. She says it hovered there for a short period of time, then moved to a corner and disappeared as she called her boyfriend in fear. Lights in the room were said to turn themselves on in the middle of the night.

Observed Activity At This Site: During an investigation to SUNY Brockport and Mortimer Hall, the lights in one of the rooms did turn themselves on twice in the middle of the night, on different nights. There was no one around who could have turned them on as a prank.

http://www.ishmael.org
http://www.manyuniverses.com/
http://www.imho.com/grae/chaos/chaos.html
http://www.whatthebleep.com/
http://www.greenanarchy.org/

The Original Affluent Society
-by Marshall Sahlins

Hunter-gatherers

Hunter-gatherers consume less energy per capita per year than any other group of human beings. Yet when you come to examine it the original affluent society was none other than the hunter's - in which all the people's material wants were easily satisfied. To accept that hunters are affluent is therefore to recognise that the present human condition of man slaving to bridge the gap between his unlimited wants and his insufficient means is a tragedy of modern times.

There are two possible courses to affluence. Wants may be "easily satisfied" either by producing much or desiring little The familiar conception, the Galbraithean way- based on the concept of market economies- states that man's wants are great, not to say infinite, whereas his means are limited, although they can be improved. Thus, the gap between means and ends can be narrowed by industrial productivity, at least to the point that "urgent goods" become plentiful. But there is also a Zen road to affluence, which states that human material wants are finite and few, and technical means unchanging but on the whole adequate. Adopting the Zen strategy, a people can enjoy an unparalleled material plenty - with a low standard of living. That, I think, describes the hunters. And it helps explain some of their more curious economic behaviour: their "prodigality" for example- the inclination to consume at once all stocks on hand, as if they had it made. Free from market obsessions of scarcity, hunters' economic propensities may be more consistently predicated on abundance than our own.

Destutt de Tracy, "fish-blooded bourgeois doctrinaire" though he might have been, at least forced Marx to agree that "in poor nations the people are comfortable", whereas in rich nations, "they are generally poor".
Sources of the Misconception
"Mere subsistence economy", "limited leisure save in exceptional circumstances", incessant quest for food", "meagre and relatively unreliable" natural resources, "absence of an economic surplus", "maximum energy from a maximum number of people" so runs the fair average anthropological opinion of hunting and gathering

The traditional dismal view of the hunters' fix goes back to the time Adam Smith was writing, and probably to a time before anyone was writing. Probably it was one of the first distinctly neolithic prejudices, an ideological appreciation of the hunter's capacity to exploit the earth's resources most congenial to the historic task of depriving him of the same. We must have inherited it with the seed of Jacob, which "spread abroad to the west, and to the east, and to the north", to the disadvantage of Esau who was the elder son and cunning hunter, but in a famous scene deprived of his birthright.

Current low opinions of the hunting-gathering economy need not be laid to neolithic ethnocentrism. Bourgeois ethnocentrism will do as well. The existing business economy Will promote the same dim conclusions about the hunting life. Is it so paradoxical to contend that hunters have affluent economies, their absolute poverty notwithstanding? Modern capitalist societies, however richly endowed, dedicate themselves to the proposition of scarcity. Inadequacy of economic means is the first principle of the world's wealthiest peoples.

The market-industrial system institutes scarcity, in a manner completely without parallel. Where production and distribution are arranged through the behaviour of prices, and all livelihoods depend on getting and spending, insufficiency of material means becomes the explicit, calculable starting point of all economic activity.

The entrepreneur is confronted with alternative investments of a finite capital, the worker (hopefully) with alternative choices of remunerative employ, and the consumer... Consumption is a double tragedy: what begins in inadequacy will end in deprivation. Bringing together an international division of labour, the market makes available a dazzling array of products: all these Good Things within a man's reach- but never all within his grasp. Worse, in this game of consumer free choice, every acquisition is simultaneously a deprivation for every purchase of something is a foregoing of something else, in general only marginally less desirable, and in some particulars more desirable, that could have been had instead. That sentence of "life at hard labour" was passed uniquely upon us. Scarcity is the judgment decreed by our economy. And it is precisely from this anxious vantage that we look back upon hunters. But if modern man, with all his technological advantages, still lacks the wherewithal, what chance has the naked savage with his puny bow and arrow? Having equipped the hunter with bourgeois impulses and palaeolithic tools, we judge his situation hopeless in advance.

Yet scarcity is not an intrinsic property of technical means. It is a relation between means and ends. We should entertain the empirical possibility that hunters are in business for their health, a finite objective, and that bow and arrow are adequate to that end.

The anthropological disposition to exaggerate the economic inefficiency of hunters appears notably by way of invidious comparison with neolithic economies. Hunters, as Lowie (1) put it blankly, "must work much harder in order to live than tillers and breeders" (p. 13). On this point evolutionary anthropology in particular found it congenial, even necessary theoretically, to adopt the usual tone of reproach. Ethnologists and archaeologists had become neolithic revolutionaries, and in their enthusiasm for the Revolution spared nothing in denouncing the Old (Stone Age) Regime. It was not the first time philosophers would relegate the earliest stage of humanity rather to nature than to culture. ("A man who spends his whole life following animals just to kill them to eat, or moving from one berry patch to another, is really living just like an animal himself"(2) (p.122). The hunters thus downgraded, anthropology was freer to extol the Neolithic Great Leap Forward: a main technological advance that brought about a "general availability of leisure through release from purely food-getting pursuits".(3) In an influential essay on "Energy and the Evolution of Culture", Leslie White (5, 6) explained that the neolithic generated a "great advance in cultural development... as a consequence of the great increase in the amount of energy harnessed and controlled per capita per year by means of the agricultural and pastoral arts". White further heightened the evolutionary contrast by specifying human effort as the principal energy source of palaeolithic culture, as opposed to the domesticated plant and animal resources of neolithic culture. This determination of the energy sources at once permitted a precise low estimate of hunters' thermodynamic potential- that developed by the human body: "average power resources" of one twentieth horse power per capita -even as, by eliminating human effort from the cultural enterprise of the neolithic, it appeared that people had been liberated by some labour-saving device (domesticated plants and animals). But White's problematic is obviously misconceived. The principal mechanical energy available to both palaeolithic and neolithic culture is that supplied by human beings, as transformed in both cases from plant and animal source, so that, with negligible exceptions (the occasional direct use of non-human power), the amount of energy harnessed per capita per year is the same in palaeolithic and neolithic economies- and fairly constant in human history until the advent of the industrial revolution.(5)
Marvelously varied diet
Marginal as the Australian or Kalahari desert is to agriculture, or to everyday European experience, it is a source of wonder to the untutored observer "how anybody could live in a place like this". The inference that the natives manage only to eke out a bare existence is apt to be reinforced by their marvelously varied diets. Ordinarily including objects deemed repulsive and inedible by Europeans, the local cuisine lends itself to the supposition that the people are starving to death.



It is a mistake, Sir George Grey (7) wrote, to suppose that the native Australians "have small means of subsistence, or are at times greatly pressed for want of food". Many and "almost ludicrous" are the errors travellers have fallen into in this regard: "They lament in their journals that the unfortunate Aborigines should be reduced by famine to the miserable necessity of subsisting on certain sorts of food, which they have found near their huts; whereas, in many instances, the articles thus quoted by them are those which the natives most prize, and are really neither deficient in flavour nor nutritious qualities". To render palpable "the ignorance that has prevailed with regard to the habits and customs of this people when in their wild state", Grey provides one remarkable example, a citation from his fellow explorer, Captain Stuart, who, upon encountering a group of Aboriginals engaged in gathering large quantities of mimosa gum, deduced that the "unfortunate creatures were reduced to the last extremity, and, being unable to procure any other nourishment, had been obliged to collect this mucilaginous". But, Sir George observes, the gum in question is a favourite article of food in the area, and when in season it affords the opportunity for large numbers of people to assemble and camp together, which otherwise they are unable to do. He concludes:

"Generally speaking, the natives live well; in some districts there may be at particular seasons of the year a deficiency of food, but if such is the case, these tracts are, at those times, deserted.
It is, however, utterly impossible for a traveller or even for a strange native to judge. whether a district affords an abundance Of food, or the contrary... But in his own district a native is very differently situated; he knows exactly what it produces, the proper time at which the several articles are in season, and the readiest means of procuring them. According to these circumstances he regulates his visits to different portions of his hunting ground; and I can only say that l have always found the greatest abundance in their huts."(8)

In making this happy assessment, Sir George took special care to exclude the lumpen-proletariat aboriginals living in and about European towns -The exception instructive. It evokes a second source of ethnographic misconceptions: the anthropology of hunters is largely an anachronistic study of ex-savages an inquest into the corpse of one society, Grey once said, presided over by members of another.
"A Kind of Material Plenty"
Considering the poverty in which hunters and gatherers live in theory, it comes as a surprise that Bushmen who live in the Kalahari enjoy "a kind of material plenty", at least in the realm of everyday useful things, apart from food and water:

"As the !Kung come into more contact with Europeans and this is already happening - they will feel sharply the lack of our things and will need and want more. It makes them feel inferior to be without clothes when they stand among strangers who are clothed. But in their own life and with their own artifacts they were comparatively free from material pressures. Except for food and water (important exceptions!) of which the Nyae Nyae Kung have a sufficiency - but barely so, judging from the fact that all are thin though not emaciated - they all had what they needed or could make what they needed, for every man can and does make the things that men make and every woman the things that women make... They lived in a kind of material plenty because they adapted the tools of their living to materials which lay in abundance around them and which were free for anyone to take (wood, reeds, bone for weapons and implements, fibres for cordage, grass for shelters). or to materials which were at least sufficient for the needs of the population.... The !Kung could always use more ostrich egg shells for beads to wear or trade with, but, as it is, enough are found for every woman to have a dozen or more shells for water containers all she can carry - and a goodly number of bead ornaments. In their nomadic hunting-gathering life, travelling from one source Of food to another through the seasons, always going back and forth between food and water, they carry their young children and their belongings. With plenty of most materials at hand to replace artifacts as required, the !Kung have not developed means of permanent storage and have not needed or wanted to encumber. themselves with surpluses or duplicates. They do not even want to carry one of everything. They borrow what they do not own. With this ease, they have not hoarded, and the accumulation of objects has not become associated with status.."(9)

In the non subsistence sphere, the people's wants are generally easily satisfied. Such "material plenty" depends partly upon the simplicity of technology and democracy of pro perty. Products are homespun: of stone, bone, wood, skin-materials such as "lay in abundance around them". As a rule, neither extraction of the raw material nor its working up take strenuous effort. Access to natural resources is typically direct- "free for anyone to take"- even as possession of the necessary tools is general and knowledge of the required skills common. The division of labour is likewise simple, predominantly a division of labour by sex. Add in the liberal customs of sharing, for which hunters are properly famous, and all the people can usually participate in the going prosperity, such as it is.

For most hunters, such affluence without abundance in the non-subsistence sphere need not be long debated. A more interesting question is why they are content with so few possessions for it is with them a policy, a "matter of principle" as Gusinde 10 says, and not a misfortune.

But are hunters so undemanding of material goods because they are themselves enslaved by a food quest "demanding maximum energy from a maximum number of people", so that no time or effort remains for the provision of other comforts? Some ethnographers testify to the contrary that the food quest is so successful that half the time the people seem not to know what to do with themselves. On the other hand, movement is a condition of this success, more movement in some cases than others, but always enough to rapidly depreciate the satisfactions of property. Of the hunter it is truly said that his wealth is a burden. In his condition of life, goods can become "grievously oppressive", as Gusinde observes, and the more so the longer they are carried around. Certain food collectors do have canoes and a few have dog sleds, but most must carry themselves all the comforts they possess, and so only possess what they can comfortably carry themselves. Or perhaps only what the women can carry: the men are often left free to reach to the sudden opportunity of the chase or the sudden necessity of defence. As Owen Lattimore wrote in a not too different context, "the pure nomad is the poor nomad". Mobility and property are in contradiction. That wealth quickly becomes more of an encumbrance than a good thing is apparent even to the outsider. Laurens van der Post (11) was caught in the contradiction as he prepared to make farewells to his wild Bushmen friends:

"This matter of presents gave us many an anxious moment. We were humiliated by the realisation of how little there was we could give to the Bushmen. Almost everything seemed likely to make life more difficult for them by adding to the litter and weight of their daily round. They themselves had practically no possessions: a loin strap, a skin blanket and a leather satchel. There was nothing that they could not assemble in one minute, wrap up in their blankets and carry on their shoulders for a journey of a thousand miles. They had no sense of possession."

Here then is another economic "peculiarity"- some hunters at least, display a notable tendency to be sloppy about their possessions. They have the kind of nonchalance that would be appropriate to a people who have mastered the problems of production.

"They do not know how to take care of their belongings. No one dreams of putting them in order, folding them, drying or cleaning them, hanging them up, or putting them in a neat pile. If they are looking for some particular thing, they rummage carelessly through the hodgepodge of trifles in the little baskets. Larger objects that are piled up in a heap in the hut are dragged hither and thither with no regard for the damage that might be done them.

The European observer has the impression that these (Yahgan) Indians place no value whatever on their utensils and that they have completely forgotten the effort it took to make them. Actually, no one clings to his few goods and chattels which, as it is, are often and easily lost, but just as easily replaced... The Indian does not even exercise care when he could conveniently do so. A European is likely to shake his head at the boundless indifference of these people who drag brand-new objects, precious clothing, fresh provisions and valuable items through thick mud, or abandon them to their swift destruction by children and dogs.... Expensive things that are given them are treasured for a few hours, out of curiosity; after that they thoughtlessly let everything deteriorate in the mud and wet. The less they own, the more comfortable they can travel, and what is ruined they occasionally replace. Hence, they are completely indifferent to any material possessions."(10)

The hunter, one is tempted to say, is "uneconomic man". At least as concerns non subsistence goods, he is the reverse of that standard caricature immortalised in any General Principles of Economics, page one. His wants are scarce and his means (in relation) plentiful. Consequently he is "comparatively free of material pressures", has "no sense of possession", shows "an undeveloped sense of property", is "completely indifferent to any material pressures", manifests a "lack of interest" in developing his technological equipment.

In this relation of hunters to worldly goods there is a neat and important point. From the internal perspective of the economy, it seems wrong to say that wants are "restricted", desires "restrained", or even that the notion of wealth is "limited". Such phrasings imply in advance an Economic Man and a struggle of the hunter against his own worse nature, which is finally then subdued by a cultural vow of poverty. The words imply the renunciation of an acquisitiveness that in reality was never developed, a suppression of desires that were never broached. Economic Man is a bourgeois construction- as Marcel Mauss said, "not behind us, but before, like the moral man". It is not that hunters and gatherers have curbed their materialistic "impulses"; they simply never made an institution of them. "Moreover, if it is a great blessing to be free from a great evil, our (Montagnais) Savages are happy; for the two tyrants who provide hell and torture for many of our Europeans, do not reign in their great forests, I mean ambition and avarice... as they are contented with a mere living, not one of them gives himself to the Devil to acquire wealth."(12)
Subsistence
When Herskovits (13) was writing his Economic Anthropology (1958), it was common anthropological practice to take the Bushmen or the native Australians as "a classic illustration; of a people whose economic resources are of the scantiest", so precariously situated that "only the most intense application makes survival possible". Today the "classic" understanding can be fairly reversed- on evidence largely from these two groups. A good case can be made that hunters and gatherers work less than we do; and, rather than a continuous travail, the food quest is intermittent, leisure abundant, and there is a greater amount of sleep in the daytime per capita per year than in any other condition of society.

The most obvious, immediate conclusion is that the people do not work hard. The average length of time per person per day put into the appropriation and preparation of food was four or five hours. Moreover, they do not work continuously. The subsistence quest was highly intermittent. It would stop for the time being when the people had procured enough for the time being. which left them plenty of time to spare. Clearly in subsistence as in other sectors of production, we have to do with an economy of specific, limited objectives. By hunting and gathering these objectives are apt to be irregularly accomplished, so the work pattern becomes correspondingly erratic.

As for the Bushmen, economically likened to Australian hunters by Herskovits, two excellent recent reports by Richard Lee show their condition to be indeed the same 14 16 Lee's research merits a special hearing not only because it concerns Bushmen, but specifically the Dobe section of Kung Bushmen, adjacent to the Nyae about whose subsistence- in a context otherwise of "material plenty"- Mrs Marshall expressed important reservations. The Dobe occupy an area of Botswana where !Kung Bushmen have been living for at least a hundred years, but have only just begun to suffer dislocation pressures.
Abundance
Despite a low annual rainfall (6 to 10 inches), Lee found in the Dobe area a "surprising abundance of vegetation". Food resources were "both varied and abundant", particularly the energy rich mangetti nut- "so abundant that millions of the nuts rotted on the ground each year for want of picking".15 The Bushman figures imply that one man's labour in hunting and gathering will support four or five people. Taken at face value, Bushman food collecting is more efficient than French farming in the period up to World War II, when more than 20 per cent of the population were engaged in feeding the rest. Confessedly, the comparison is misleading, but not as misleading as it is astonishing. In the total population of free-ranging Bushmen contacted by Lee, 61.3 per cent (152 of 248) were effective food producers; the remainder were too young or too old to contribute importantly In the particular camp under scrutiny, 65 per cent were "effectives". Thus the ratio of food producers to the general population is actually 3 :5 or 2:3. But, these 65 per cent of the people "worked 36 per cent of the time, and 35 per cent of the people did not work at all"! (15)

For each adult worker, this comes to about two and one - half days labour per week. (In other words, each productive individual supported herself or himself and dependents and still had 3 to 5 days available for other activities.) A "day's work" was about six hours; hence the Dobe work week is approximately 15 hours, or an average of 2 hours 9 minutes per day. All things considered, Bushmen subsistence labours are probably very close to those of native Australians.

Also like the Australians, the time Bushmen do not work in subsistence they pass in leisure or leisurely activity. One detects again that characteristic palaeolithic rhythm of a day or two on, a day or two off- the latter passed desultorily in camp. Although food collecting is the primary productive activity, Lee writes, "the majority of the people's time (four to five days per week) is spent in other pursuits, such as resting in camp or visiting other camps" (15):

"A woman gathers on one day enough food to feed her family for three days, and spends the rest of her time resting in camp, doing embroidery, visiting other camps, or entertaining;n; visitors from other camps. For each day at home, kitchen routines, such as cooking, nut cracking, collecting firewood, and fetching water, occupy one to three hours of her time. This rhythm of steady work and steady leisure maintained throughout the year. The hunters tend to work more frequently than the women, but their schedule uneven. It 'not unusual' for a man to hunt avidly for a week and then do no hunting at all for two or three weeks. Since hunting is an unpredictable business and su bject to magical control, hunters sometimes experience a run of bad luck and stop hunting for a month or longer. During these periods, visiting, entertaining, and especially dancing are the primary activities of men.(16)"

The daily per-capita subsistence yield for the Dobe Bushmen was 2,140 calories. However, taking into account body weight, normal activities, and the age-sex composition of the Dobe population, Lee estimates the people require only 1,975 calories per capita. Some of the surplus food probably went to the dogs, who ate what the people left over. "The conclusion can be drawn that the Bushmen do not lead a substandard existence on the edge of starvation as has been commonly supposed."(15)

Meanwhile, back in Africa the Hadza have been long enjoying a comparable ease, with a burden of subsistence occupations no more strenuous in hours per day than the Bushmen or the Australian Aboriginals.16 Living in an area of "exceptional abundance" of animals and regular supplies of vegetables (the vicinity of Lake Eyasi), Hadza men seem much more concerned with games of chance than with chances of game. During the long dry season especially, they pass the greater part of days on end in gambling, perhaps only to lose the metal-tipped arrows they need for big game hunting at other times. In any case, many men are "quite unprepared or unable to hunt big game even when they possess the necessary arrows". Only a small minority, Woodburn writes, are active hunters of large animals, and if women are generally more assiduous at their vegetable collecting, still it is at a leisurely pace and without prolonged labour.(17) Despite this nonchalance, and an only limited economic cooperation, Hadza "nonetheless obtain sufficient food without undue effort". Woodburn offers this "very rough approximation" of subsistence-labour requirements: "Over the year as a whole probably an average of less than two hours a day spent obtaining food" (Woodburn.16)

Interesting that the Hazda, tutored by life and not by anthropology, reject the neolithic revolution in order to keep their leisure. Although surrounded by cultivators, they have until recently refused to take up agriculture themselves, "mainly on the grounds that this would involve too much hard work". In this they are like the Bushmen, who respond to the neolithic question with another: "Why should we plant, when there are so many mongomongo nuts m the world?" (14) Woodburn moreover did form the impression, although as yet unsubstantiated, that Hadza actually expend less energy, and probably less time, obtaining subsistence than do neighbouring cultivators of East Africa. (16) To change continents but not contents, the fitful economic commitment of the South American hunter, too, could seem to the European outsider an incurable "natural disposition":

"... the Yamana are not capable of continuous, daily hard labour, much to the chagrin of European farmers and employers for whom they often work. Their work is more a matter of fits and starts, and in these occasional efforts they can develop considerable energy for a certain time. After that, however, they show a desire for an incalculably long rest period during which they lie about doing nothing, without showing great fatigue.... It is obvious that repeated irregularities of this kind make the European employer despair, but the Indian cannot help it. It is his natural disposition." (10)

The hunter's attitude towards farming introduces us, lastly, to a few particulars of the way they relate to the food quest. Once again we venture here into the internal realm of the economy, a realm sometimes subjective and always difficult to understand; where, moreover, hunters seem deliberately inclined to overtax our comprehension by customs so odd as to invite the extreme interpretation that either these people are fools or they really have nothing to worry about. The former would be a true logical deduction from the hunter's nonchalance, on the premise that his economic condition is truly exigent. On the other hand, if a livelihood is usually easily procured, if one can usually expect to succeed, then the people's seeming imprudence can no longer appear as such. Speaking to unique developments of the market economy, to its institutionalisation of scarcity, Karl Polanyi (18) said that our "animal dependence upon food has been bared and the naked fear of starvation permitted to run loose. Our humiliating enslavement to the material, which all human culture is designed to mitigate, was deliberately made more rigorous" But our problems are not theirs.

Rather, a pristine affluence colours their economic arrangements, a trust in the abundance of nature's resources rather than despair at the inadequacy of human means. My point is that otherwise curious heathen devices become understandable by the people's confidence, a confidence which is the reasonable human attribute of a generally successful economy.

A more serious issue is presented by the frequent and exasperated observation of a certain "lack of foresight" among hunters and gatherers. Orientated forever in the present, without "the slightest thought of, or care for, what the morrow may bring", (19) the hunter seems unwilling to husband supplies, incapable of a planned response to the doom surely awaiting him. He adopts instead a studied unconcern, which expresses itself in two complementary economic inclinations.

The first, prodigality: the propensity to eat right through all the food in the camp, even during objectively difficult times, "as if", Lillian said of the Montagnais, "the game they were to hunt was shut up in a stable". Basedow (20) wrote of native Australians, their motto "might be interpreted in words to the effect that while there is plenty for today never care about tomorrow. On this account an Aboriginal inclined to make one feast of his supplies, in preference to a modest meal now and another by and by." Le Jeune even saw his Montagnais carry such extravagance to the edge of disaster.

"In the famine through which we passed, if my host took two, three, or four Beavers, immediately, whether it was day or night, they had a feast for all neighbouring Savages. And if those People had captured something, they had one also at the same time; so that, on emerging from one feast, you went to another, and sometimes even to a third and a fourth. I told them that they did not manage well, and that it would be better to reserve these feasts for future days, and in doing this they would not be so pressed with hunger. They laughed at me. 'Tomorrow' (they said) 'we shall make another feast with what we shall capture.' Yes, but more often they capture only cold and wind." (12)

A second and complementary inclination is merely prodigality's negative side: the failure to put by food surpluses, to develop food storage. For many hunters and gatherers, it appears, food storage cannot be proved technically impossible, nor is it certain that the people are unaware of the possibility. (18) One must investigate instead what in the situation precludes the attempt. Gusinde asked this question, and for the Yahgan found the answer in the self same justifiable optimism. Storage would be "superfluous", "because through the entire year and with almost limitless generosity the she puts all kinds of animals at the disposal of the man who hunts and the woman who gathers. Storm or accident will deprive a family of these things for no more than a few days. Generally no one need reckon with the danger of hunger, and everyone almost any where finds an abundance of what he needs. Why then should anyone worry about food for the future... Basically our Fuegians know that they need not fear for the future, hence they do not pile up supplies. Year in and year out they can look forward to the next day, free of care...." (12)

Gusinde's explanation is probably good as far as it goes, but probably incomplete. A more complex and subtle economic calculus seems in play. In fact one must consider the advantages of food storage against the diminishing returns to collection within a confined locale. An uncontrollable tendency to lower the local carrying capacity is for hunters au fond des choses: a basic condition of their production and main cause of their movement. The potential drawback of storage is exactly that it engages the contradiction between wealth and mobility. It would anchor the camp to an area soon depleted of natural food supplies. Thus immobilised by their accumulated stocks, the people may suffer by comparison with a little hunting and gathering elsewhere, where nature has, so to speak, done considerable storage of her own-of foods possibly more desirable in diversity as well as amount than men can put by. As it works out, an attempt to stock up food may only reduce the overall output of a hunting band, for the havenots will content themselves with stay- ing in camp and living off !he wherewithal amassed by the more prudent. Food storage, then, may be technically feasible, yet economically undesirable, and socially unachievable.

What are the real handicaps of the hunting-gathering praxis? Not "low productivity of labour", if existing examples mean anything. But the economy is seriously" afflicted by the imminence of diminishing returns. Beginning in subsistence and spreading from there to every sector, an initial success seems only to develop the probability that further efforts will yield smaller benefits. This describes the typical curve of food-getting within a particular locale. A modest number of people usually sooner than later reduce the food resources within convenient range of camp. Thereafter, they may stay on only by absorbing an increase in real costs or a decline in real returns: rise in costs if the people choose to search farther and farther afield, decline in returns if they are satisfied to live on the shorter supply or inferior foods in easier reach. The solution, of course, is to go somewhere else. Thus the first and decisive contingency of hunting-gathering: it requires movement to maintain production on advantageous terms.

But this movement, more or less frequent in different circumstances, more or less distant. merely transposes to other spheres of production the same diminishing returns of which it is born. The manufacture of tools, clothing, utensils, or ornaments, how- ever easily done, becomes senseless when these begin to be more of a burden than a comfort Utility falls quickly at the margin of portability. The construction of substantial houses likewise becomes absurd if they must soon be abandoned. Hence the hunter's very ascetic conceptions of material welfare: an interest only in minimal equipment, "if that; a valuation of smaller things over bigger; a disinterest in acquiring two or more of most goods; and the like. Ecological pressure assumes a rare form of concreteness when it has to be shouldered. If the gross product is trimmed down in comparison with other economies, it is not the hunter's productivity that is at fault, but his mobility.
Demographic constraints
Almost the same thing can be said of the demographic constraints of hunting-gathering. The same policy of debarassment is in play on the level of people, describable in similar terms and ascribable to similar causes. The terms are, cold-bloodedly: diminishing returns at the margin of portability, minimum necessary equipment, elimination of duplicates, and so forth-that is to say, infanticide. senilicide, sexual continence for the duration of the nursing period, etc., practices for which many food-collecting peoples are well known. The presumption that such devices are due to an inability to support more people is probably true-if' "support" is understood in the sense of carrying them rather than feeding them. The people eliminated, as hunters sometimes sadly' tell, are precisely those who cannot effectively transport themselves, who would I hinder the movement of family and camp. Hunters may be obliged to handle people and goods in parallel ways, the draconic population policy an expression of the same ecology as the ascetic economy.

Hunting and gathering has all the strengths of its weaknesses. Periodic movement and restraint in wealth and adaptations, the kinds of necessities of the economic practice and creative adaptations the kinds of necessities of which virtues are made. Precisely in such a framework, affluence becomes possible. Mobility and moderation put hunters' ends within range of their technical means. An undeveloped mode of production is thus rendered highly effective. The hunter's life is not as difficult as it looks from the outside. In some ways the economy reflects dire ecology, but it is also a complete inversion.
Three to five hour working day
Reports on hunters and gatherers of the ethnological present-specifically on those in marginal environments suggest a mean of three to five hours per adult worker per day in food production. Hunters keep banker's hours, notably less than modern industrial workers (unionised), who would surely settle for a 21-35 hour week. An interesting comparison is also posed by recent studies of labour costs among agriculturalists of neolithic type. For example, the average adult Hanunoo, man or woman, spends 1,200 hours per year in swidden cultivation;21 which is to say, a mean of three hours twenty minutes per day. Yet this figure does not include food gathering, animal raising, cooking and other direct subsistence efforts of these Philippine tribesmen. Comparable data are beginning to appear in reports on other primitive agriculturalists from many parts of the world.

There is nothing either to the convention that hunters and gatherers can enjoy little leisure from tasks of sheer survival. By this, the evolutionary inadequacies of the palaeolithic are customarily explained, while for the provision of leisure the neolithic is roundly congratulated. But the traditional formulas might be truer if reversed: the amount of work (per capita) increases with the evolution of culture, and the amount of leisure decreases. Hunter's subsistence labours are characteristically intermittent, a day on and a day off, and modern hunters at least tend to employ their time off in such activities as daytime sleep. In the tropical habitats occupied by many of these existing hunters, plant collecting is more reliable than hunting itself. Therefore, the women, who do the collecting, work rather more regularly than the men, and provide the greater part of the food supply.

In alleging this is an affluent economy, therefore, I do not deny that certain hunters have moments of difficulty. Some do find it "almost inconceivable" for a man to die of hunger, or even to fail to satisfy his hunger for more than a day or two.16 But others, especially certain very peripheral hunters spread out in small groups across an environment of extremes, are exposed periodically to the kind of inclemency that interdicts travel or access to game. They suffer although perhaps only fractionally, the shortage affecting particular immobilised families rather than the society as a whole. (10)

Still, granting this vulnerability, and allowing the most poorly situated modern hunters into comparison. it would be difficult to prove that privation is distinctly characteristic of the hunter-gatherers. Food shortage is not the indicative property of this mode of production as opposed to others; it does not mark off hunters and gatherers as a class or a general evolutionary stage. Lowie (22) asks:

"But what of the herders on a simple plane whose maintenance is periodically jeopardised by plagues-who, like some Lapp bands of the nineteenth century were obliged to fall back on fishing? What of the primitive peasants who clear and till without compensation of the soil, exhaust one plot and pass on to the next, and are threatened with famine at every drought? Are they any more in control of misfortune caused by natural conditions than the hunter-gatherer?"

Above all. what about the world today? One-third to one-half of humanity are said to go to bed hungry every night. In the Old Stone Age the fraction must have been much smaller. This is the era of hunger unprecedented. Now, in the time of the greatest technical power, is starvation an in. situation. Reverse another venerable formula: the amount of hunger in. creases relatively and absolutely with the evolution of culture. This paradox is my whole point. Hunters and gatherers have by force of circumstances an objectively low standard of living. But taken as their objective, and given their adequate means of production. all the people's material wants usually can be easily satisfied.

The world's most primitive people have few possessions. but they are not poor. Poverty is not a certain small amount of goods, nor is it just a relation between means and ends; above all it is a relation between people. Poverty is a social status. As such it is the invention of civilisation. It has grown with civilisation, at once as an invidious distinction between classes and more importantly as a tributary relation that can render agrarian peasants more susceptible to natural catastrophes than any winter camp of Alaskan Eskimo.
References
1. Lowie, Robert H; 1946 An introduction to Cultural Anthropology (2nd ed.) New York. Rinehart.
2. Braidwood, Robert J. 1957. Prehistoric Men. 3rd ed. Chicago Natural History Museum Popular Series, Anthrpology, Number 37.
3. Braidwood; Robert J. 1952. The Near East and the Foundations for Civilisation. Eugene: Oregon State System of Higher Education.
4. Boas, Franz. 1884-85. "The Central Eskimo", Smithsonian Institution, Bureau of American Ethnology, Anthropological Reports 6: 399=699.
5. White, Leslie A. 1949. The Science of Culture. New York: Farrar, Strauss.
6. White, Leslie A. 1959. The Evolution of Culture. New York: McGraw-Hill.
7. Grey, Sir George. 1841. Journals of Two Expeditions of Discovery in North-West and Western Australia, During the Years 1837, 38, and 39... 2 vols. London: Boone.
8. Eyre, Edward John. 1845. Journals of Expeditions of Discovery into Central Australia, and Overland from Adelalde to King George's Sound, in the Years 184041.2 vols. London: Boone.
9. Marshall, Lorna. 1961. "Sharing, Talking, and Giving: Relief of Social Tensions Among "Kung Bushmen", Africa 31:23149.
10. Gusinde, Martin. 1961. The Yamana 5 vols. New Haven, Conn.: Human Relations Area Files. (German edition 1931).
11. Laurens van der Post: The Heart of the Hunter.
12. Le Jeune, le Pere Paul. 1897. "Relation of What Occured in New France in the Year 1634", in R. G. Thwaites (ed.), The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents. Vol. 6. Cleveland: Burrows. (First French edition, 1635).
13. Herskovits, Melville J. 1952. Economic Anthropology. New York: Knopf.
14. Lee, Richard. 1968. "What Hunters Do for a Living, or, How to Make Out on Scarce Resources", in R. Lee and I. DeVore (eds.), Man the Hunter. Chicago: Aldine.
15. Lee, Richard. 1969. "Kung Bushmen Subsistence: An Input-Output Analysis", in A. Vayda (ed.), Environment and Cultural Behaviour. Garden City, N.Y.: Natural History Press.
16. Woodburn, James. 1968. "An introduction to Hadza Ecology", in Lee and I. DeVore (eds.), Man the Hunter. Chicago: Aldine.
17. Woodburn, James (director). 1966: "The Hadza" (film available from the anthropological director, department of Anthropology, London School of Economics).
18. Polanyi, Karl. 1974. "Our Obsolete Market Mentality", Commentary 3:109-17.
19. Spencer, Baldwin, and F. J. Gillen, 1899. The Native Tribes of Central Australia London: Macmillan.
20. Basedow, Herbert. 1925. The Australian Aboriginal. Adelaide, Australia: Preece.
21. Conklin, Harold C. 1957. Hanunoo Agriculture. Rome: Food and Agricultural Organisation of the United Nations.
22. Lowie, Robert H. 1938. "Subsistence", in F. Boas (ed.), General Anthropology. (2nd ed.) New York: Rinehart.

Extract from stone-age Economics. By Marshall Sahlins