smackdown at Ken's loft

Suckers! Though the tag-line of this entry's the naked truth, I figured all you integral voyeurs might be more inclined to peep this show with a title that teases. (All will be revealed, my AQALuscious compatriots...in due time.)

First off. Thanksgiving. I know it's after the fact, but let me just say I harbor more than just a bit of ambivlance toward this "holiday." As I wrote to my British friend the day before feasting:

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, the American commemoration of the settler's bountiful harvest ensuring their continued survival and colonization. Of course, it's also a celebration of what turned out to be the impending genocide of the native population, but we conveniently excise this fact from our consciousness.

Thursday afternoon, I received an email from Colin Bigelow (Ken Wilber's personal assistant who apparently believes he can subsist on a diet of martini olives and causal access), asking me, in essence, if I'd like to fly in over the weekend to address my issues with Warren Farrel face to face with Ken and Excomm (aka, The Integral Borg) in the Bald One's Denver abode.

Okay, I said. (It's kosher--no big deal, right? Like, I get an invitation from Ken to hang at his loft and air my issues all the time.)

Right.

"Oh, and by the way," says my Unspoken friend, "Excomm will be making a decision about whether Warren is invited to be a part of the Integral Sex and Gender Studies domain based on the discussion on Saturday."

No pressure.

Since Willow can't make it, I'm initially told it'll be just me, Ken, Warren, and the boys (the executive committee--Jeff, Marco, Rollie, Huy, and Colin. Um, can I get that testosterone on the rocks, and spiked--with estrogen?) Shortly thereafter, somebody with sensitivity training (maybe Jeff, who by his own admission is "as gay as a tree full of chickadees") must have realized that in the interest of gender parity, the issues at hand might be better served with the inclusion of another female (ya think?) and I'm informed I won't be the sole bearer of an XX chromosone configuration.

I flew into Denver Internation Saturday morning and wasted a half hour going back and forth with Orbitz after I failed to print my shuttle voucher and needed it faxed. By the time I jumped on the Super Express it was 10:45 and I was due at the loft by 11:00. I arrived half hour late.

Shit.

From the lobby phone I dialed upstairs to the loft and Ken answered, hello?

It's the Navigationally Challenged Wonder requesting to be buzzed in! (I was beginning to feel like a character in The Matrix.)

Turned out it was Ken, Warren, Jeff (chirp, chirp), Pashmina (I-I tech genius), Marco (IN big kahuna) Cher (resident media goddess) Mark (Integral Spirituality domain), Micki (HR Headmistress), and me.

Shook hands with Warren and Ken (my but you're tall, and...um, developed in more ways than one) and the games began. The entire exchange, which lasted about an hour and a half, was too involved to reiterate here, but suffice it to say that though I stand by my reservations about Warren, particularly as regards his theoretical orientation, I was fairly pacified about his actual character after witnessing his warmth and uncanny capacity for listening, and repeatingly noting his opennes and nondefense even in the face of taking him to task over the Penthouse piece. (I actually composed a letter to Ken detailing my post dialogue position after he solicited additional feedback, but I think better of posting it in the interest of privacy and politics--and here you thought I-I was free of all that first tier food fighting!) ;)

There's much more JUICE to this little tale but I've got copy to get jiggy with and deadlines to make. Stay tuned for further Adventures in Integral Rant and forthcoming disclosures about flashing my new friend at the ITP seminar meeting...