Caesar Naples Wiki

Starting in 2010, Naples began constructing detailed analyses of society as he saw it. Many pieces of non-fiction during this time were inspired by his time in the mental hospital in 2009. He had months to recover, and found inspiration in everyday experiences, which he could relate to his time in the psychiatric ward. Two themes of his non-fiction work include corporations and socialism. His interest in corporate life began as he realized that important family leaders worked for a corporation, and grew with the ongoing development of the Occupy movement. However, he began writing about corporations before he had even heard of that movement. His belief, as you can see from the Full text of "Corporate (Surrealism)" is wholly positive of corporations and corporate lifestyles, though he does hold some reservations.

Socialism, he jokes, means "whatever you want it to mean." Seeing liberals being criticized for their socialist views, and hearing terms like "socialized medicine," Naples began a quest to identify exactly what socialism is. He knows it's foolish talk in the modern world about socialism, but he maintains that he is not, nor has never been, a socialist.


An intense internal struggle, deciding whether or not to go to college is a classic example of Naples' universality, his connection to modern youth, and his intense ruminations on all life matters. He is quoted as saying that he does not remember writing this piece, due to alcohol intoxication.

I think nothing is as irreplaceable as college. I know a few people who didn't go, young and old. I think it's more or less necessary for me to go to college, or at least important, mostly for my kids. I don't want them to check, "parents received high school diploma or less" whenever they're applying for college or student loans.

Is that shallow?

I know I can learn whatever I need to without going to college. But I'll get the full learning experience with a degree. And people always say, a college degree isn't about what you learn, it's about proving you can stick to something. I think I've outgrown that statement a little.

All my friends who were in my class are graduating college this year, after four years since high school graduation.

I could learn how to program, and be working with computers in the industry for four years, instead of going to college. But I just need that extra push from the university, for my full life plan. Does that make sense? It's almost not about being top in my field, but having a rounded background.

Plus I'm pretty fucked up and if I don't go to college, I won't have the support system I need to survive.

My mom and I were planning to wait one year after high school before going to college. Some of my friends hate the institution of college and may never go. It's been four years. I'm so ready... and get this, I'm going to a community college. I have the choice, within the next 14 days, to plan for a four-year education, which I will get with student loans, or just a 2-year degree, or even a 1-year certificate. It's kinda a hard choice. I want to go to a 4-year college. So I'm going to plan to get my fresh and soph years at the comm coll and then transfer to OCU or OU. But it's expensive.

But I want to know, how easy is it to do things outside of college when you're IN college? To all my college graduates. Because I don't need to socialize, or drink--I need to stay forward-thinking. And I guess all learning is forward-thinking, but I have a few ideas that I want to lift-off and I don't want to put them on hold for college. So could I be in college and start a business? Or what? I want to be a super-tasker, it's funny because I'm just the opposite, but I feel capable of being ON 24/7.

College won't be a distraction. I'll sacrifice my crazy business schemes to get the education. But what degree will I get? If I just want a 1-year certificate of mastery, I can go for office procedure and get a job in a law office or something. But they don't look for secretaries with degrees. If I go for the broadcasting four-year plan, what do I do? Do I travel to hollywood or new york and make all kinds of obscenely wicked awesome contacts in the broadcasting/film/media industry? Or do I have to stay domestic and keep it all in the city, tied down by my crazy class schedule. Will classes even be hard? Did I learn more in the four years since I graduated than I will in the next four years? Will I really be 26 one day? Will I meet a girl in college or after college?

Somebody answer. You guys know it all.

Think about a homeless person. Think about the freedom. Now think about a homeless-type with like, 3 places to stay. That's me. I wake up at 3 am and record a podcast or plan a novel, and the inspiration is there. But I can't brush my teeth every morning at 7 am. Will the university change this?

Dude, it's overwhelming. I want to be a dull wad. I want to chill out.

But what if this is the key to happiness? W/I my current lifestyle is the way to live? I certainly know my anti-college friends dig it. I could come up with a sound business plan in one week and execute the plan in another week, and we'd all have jobs. I know I'm cocky. But it's the truth.

It's the internet, that's what it is. If it wasn't for the internet, I'd be another fungus. A shroom-turd, I'd have to jet out of Oklahoma probably, but with the internet I can happily camp out here until my move to Denver, which, by the way, is full of both highly educated people and bums at the same time. Which is kind of what I am. I took five AP classes. I scored the highest on the PSAT in my class. I'm a highly educated bum. And it has to stop.


Caesar Naples wrote this piece, formerly entitled "Surrealism Pt. 2" for his Facebook and Xanga in 2010. The response on Facebook was satisfactory, bringing out people who agreed with him that corporate pride could be a good thing, and others who disagreed and blasted him for siding with fascists.

I've had a lot of red bulls and I'm bored out of my mind, so I'll relate some insight into what goes on in my head. I've always been very introverted and this new life in rural oklahoma has really heightened my tendency to just sit around and think about things. It’s kinda nice but weird at the same time. I just made a post where I talked about trying to have a mental plan for my life. I'll try to explain what I mean. My grandpa worked for a huge insurance company that's considered a corporation. He was elected for a position of leadership at the Oklahoma City offices and went every morning to participate in corporate politics and whatever else came along with his job. I think mostly they were working on the way the corporation worked so they could continue making money.

Now, I know a little bit about corporations, I have some off-the-cuff knowledge, and I know there's a lot of hate for them. But Mitt Romney thinks a corporation should be treated as a person, which is kind of a joke really. Wouldn't that person happen to have more power than any single human being in the entire world, considering hundreds of people work for the corporation, and the wouldn’t the economic impact of the entire corporation itself be impossibly huger than any persons? So, what I think about corporations--I think they're generally a bad, overly capitalist thing and I know from first hand experience that the leaders of corporations, like my grandpa, have the rediculous notion they're in some sort of club together, like the founding fathers or something, and I can tell you, the politics can obsess these people.

But there's some kind of security, knowing you have all these people in the corporation that are connected to you and have something in common with you--that spend there lives trying to benefit the company. I came up with all these terms to describe the corporate life, all beginning with "corporate" like : corporate security, corporate strength, corporate sorrow, corporate innovation, corporate responsibility, corporate dominance, and the such. Really, I kind of became obsessed with the corporation myself in a way, for a short time, even though all the terms I came up with were meant to be ironic. I conciously exaggerated the impact of the corporation on my life, just with the awareness that that was a possibility. For all I know, my grandpa leads his family with these questionable corporate values and maybe, much of my suffering comes from the fact that he used to work for a corporation. But really, I think that's an exaggeration. It's merely a possibility.

Once again, there are certain benefits of this existence, with a corporation influencing you, and I planned to take full advantage of that fact, with a certain amount of irony. For example, there's the pride of a corporate monger, and the financial security, and the kind of controlled wisdom that comes with corporate leadership. I didn't directly have a hand in leading the corporation, but I had first hand examples of someone who did. I was a descendant of corporate monger, and I was pretending it was my lot in life that I would have to adapt to this situation that was created for me.

An important point is that some kids really are victims of a corporation overpowering their sensibilities. Usually spoiled, stuck up rich kids, with no satisfaction in their lives and the impulse to follow in their family's footsteps and work for a corporation themselves someday. I was simply borrowing some of the positive benefits of such a situation. I think the idea has a lot of potential, like for instance I could start up my own business someday with more confidence, and there's the confidence boost that comes along with the egotism. But in the end, the influence over my life wasn't strong enough to fully adopt this belief system and pretend I was living the life of corporate royalty or something, and I have mostly forgotten about my corporate obsession. But maybe someday it will kick in again. Like when I get a job at Astra Zeneca.

Dead on...

Roundabout way of explaining things? Dead on...
(full title)

Another piece about socialism.

Naples says, "This was a half-assed post I made to Facebook as an excuse for being too nervous to go into the supermarket."

I usually come up with a title after I write something, but I know this one will be dead on.

I have a phobia. I hate going places like supermarkets and convenience stores, restaurants and municipal centers--well municipal centers are usually ok because I fit in there, sadly. I guess I'm an entity of public property. That's why I seem more comfortable in those places (ie, courts, lawyers offices, HUD offices, tag agencies.)

This is completely egotistical; the next thing I'll pursuade you into believing. I'll explain later, and you'll believe me then: I am public property.

Here's why. I went through the justice system. It's wild, man, it's like the end of the world in those buildings. I'll be more realistic. It's stress hell. My life is stress hell. I was charged with a felony, and to dodge a conviction, my lawyer had me evaluated for incompetency. And I wanted it, because I wanted to be innocent. Well, I must not have been paying much attention, because my lawyer most definitely didn't have a grasp on things like "lifespan," "well-being," "independence," or even "privacy" or "self-respect."

And maybe he was testing me. It's a corrupt system after all, and only the foolish ones are punished by it.

So, incompetency. What would have have meant for me? I would have no control over the direction of my life--that's what I would hate the most. But more importantly, I would be a subject for the rest of my life, an animal. For sure, I'd be safe from ever getting another conviction, because once you're incompetent you're protected, but that was the point when I would have certainly become "public." "Fucking." "Property."

I wasn't deemed incompetent. But the system bedevils me still. I am utterly self-conscious in all public places, except the aforementioned ones--inside those municipal buildings, where I "belong." But in the supermarket, I'm still that animal I almost became. And fuck, did I dodge a bullet. Innosense could never have been worth officially being incompetent. (side note, my spell checker is disabled for some reason.)

But am I different from anyone else? Not at all. And this is what's right on: excepting those who have been sheltered from the system (the justice system and even the community's societal system) completely for their entire lives, we're all spotlighted in public. And a consequence is utter chaos. I live in a small town, so I might have the wrong perspective, but everyone is completely aware of everyone else's behavior. But they're just as self-conscious as I am.

The people who live in town organize themselves like socialists; it's somehow tribal. But they don't know it's because of their own insecurities.

My defense mechanism is a simple one. I maintain a constant state of obliviousness. And occasionally, when I get really freaked out by other people, who maintain a constant state of public emergency, I'll just get on the phone and call somebody. It's very transporting. So I'm dodging another bullet. The future. Maybe I'll live forever this way. Or maybe, find myself a role in Operation Rebuild when it all blows over.


This is a fully first-hand account of Naples' in-patient visit to the psychiatric hospital, which would later influence his desire to work in mental health. Said Naples, "It's a field that takes high ethics. I've never been a saint. I could never do what I saw those doctors accomplish..."

I'm about to broach a subject that's really unbroachable. Most of my experience and thoughts about this subject come from absolute intuition and isn't really backed up by solid facts. So take that as you will. I have a certain attitude of questionability and don't honestly expect you to believe what I say word for word. Hell, this is a note on facebook, not a research paper in a science journal. It comes from a boy who has been there, experienced it, and eventually managed to move past it with the help of his family and pure rural common sense. This is essentially an experiment into turning my "crazy" thoughts into something readable and digestable, and perhaps you'll learn from it.

I know of two mental hospitals, I know certain things about these hospitals, and I know how they differ. One, the one I went to, has an experimental architectural design and employs experimental ways of treating it's patients. The other, St Anthony's, is more serious, traditional, and perhaps more effective. At St. Anthony's you're realistically in a cell, not exactly interacting with other patients, and the experience is more doctor oriented. At the other hospital I'm describing, which is Griffin Memorial Hospital, the doctor experience is minimal and basically amounts to them visiting you once or twice to determine if you should stay. At Griffin, I went to certain classes every day, and St. Anthony's has no such classes. So it's just a different experience at each one, and not all hospital is the same.

The classes focus on things like overcoming addiction, because most of the patients are drug addicts. There were little games, sometimes, where when it was your turn you would have to share something about yourself. I've actually forgotten the subject of most of these classes, as I was somewhat distracted by the bizarro patients around me, but they were mental health oriented and every patient attended them. During this time in my life, I was generally confused anyway. I do remember playing some form of volleyball and the overwhelming feeling was that I was not in control of my body, and that something terrible was about to happen.

Every teacher of these classes was a mental health professional, and they oozed confidence about their subject. They had this attitude where there was a clear distinction between their patients, and them. Naturally, because I think I'm a pretty smart guy, I thought their attitude was deplorable but I now understand it's necessary for them to believe they're a higher class than the patients, because otherwise they wouldn't be able to effectively communicate their message. There is no relation between them and the patients. They "know what the fuck" they're doing and really no patient is going to make them rethink their attitude, no matter what an example that patient sets. They're far along the path of the mental health game, very advanced in their ideas, and very unshakeable in their beliefs. Once again, I fucking hated these people, I hated going to classes, and that couple with crazy hallucinations of zombies and velociraptors made the experience of taking the classes somewhat unbearable.

I also interacted with those "lower" on the chain of treatment professionals, the "guards" and "overseers" in our room. By the way, the experimental design of the building was such that there were 4 large rooms in each building, which housed 20 or so patients, and the patients were allowed to be free within these large rooms. They each had their own bedroom which they would share with one or two other patients. In the room was the medicine dispensary, which we all lined up for twice a day, and the snack room, which was used twice a day, too. There was also a large desk at the entrance of the room which was always occupied, and sometimes workers would come in the room themselves to interact with the patients or observe them. It's these people that I'm going to talk about. The others, the "higher ups," the ones that would teach the classes and the others, the actual MD's, they really are unbroachable. Yes, I'm suggesting they're as crazy as the patients they teach.

The people I'm talking about are the ones that actually give you the medicine. The ones who feed you. The ones who spend their entire workday watching people pace around trying to grapple their psychotic delusions, and ride the bus with you to your classes. These people aren't really educated, but they have experience. Granted, it's not really authoritative experience, but they at least feel they can handle any situation that a patient creates with effectiveness. Keep in mind, I went to an "experimental" type of psychiatric hospital. Experimental in this case essentially means letting the patients do whatever they want and just observing them, and making sure they take their medicine. It's these people who managed that. The doctors barely see you. I honestly think St. Anthony's would have been a better place to go because it would have been more controlled and realistic. Plus it would have been more doctor oriented and less in the hands of these inexperienced workers.

But what I think about, now that I'm two years out of the hospital, is these people. How in the hell do they think they're qualified to treat a schizophrenic person? Since they're uneducated, the whole procedure is kind of off-the-cuff or like, almost tribal or something, I can't think of the exact word to describe it but their entire method comes from experience not education and objectively, the progress of the patient is largely out of their control. I swear, some of them seemed like they were just having fun meeting crazy people and having some responsibility over them.

Have you ever heard the rumor that new doctors are being brainwashed by big pharm interests? Medical school textbooks are written and paid for by big pharm, and the whole process of their education goes hand in hand with the big pharm agenda. Now, I don't think all new doctors are really that heavily influenced by the pharmeceutical industry--I mean, my local doctor has a big note that says he won't prescribe xanax or lortab anymore. But theres definitely this unwritten ideology of big pharm to over-medicate, and I can cite some examples from pharma bloggers that points to this being the case. For instance, one pharma guy made this whole video about how it's a major problem when a patient doesn't take their medicine, and the whole thing was about forcing them to swallow their pills, like that was a major obstacle, even greater than the illness itself. The focus is definitely on medication primarily, and not other treatment options like, for depressed people, therapy or something.

What I'm trying to suggest is not that the doctors are victims of brainwashing, but that the workers that I was talking about are the most vulnerable. I mean, I can't really blame them, if I got a job there, with my original incompetance, I'd probably do the easy thing too and subscribe to the ideas that big pharm and the doctors were pushing out, that is that medication solves all the problems and that there is a great divide between patient and professional. And I can't honestly say that the medication hasn't helped in my case, so they're really not committing any crime by believing what they do. It's just that it's definitely a "weird" scenario, one that defies my own common sense; the result of people trying to solve a very difficult problem, mental illness.

I really want to go back to the hospital sometime, just to experience the phenomenon of what's happening there, again, and to gather my ideas about whats going wrong and whats going right about the procedure.

My socialist plan

We found this piece on Naples' Xanga. It's obvious he's trying to appeal to that audience, and even has a member of that site (complicatedlight) tagged in the post. In order to preserve the artistic integrity of the post, we have provided it her completely unedited.

This is one of the only remaining examples of his thoughts on socialism.

Ok, this isn't my real plan, but it's fun to dream up.

Say you take the meaning of socialism to be literally social-ism. And characterize it by total socialization with your neighbors and everyone else for that matter. As in, you don't block people off, and you get to know them all.

It may not be the true meaning of socialism, but it's fun to dream up. Now I kinda sound like @complicatedlight. By the way, why can't I preview this? Still writing...

I'm going to be living in a commune of sorts, with these socialist ideals. There will be couchsurfers and musicians in an out of the house. And of course, I'll live there.

I see myself as above average. Perhaps it's narcissistic. But that would make me a leader of sorts. This is the perfect situation for my socialist living arrangements. I've learned a thing or two from my grandfather about leadership, and I plan to teach all my little men and women who come into the house of my ways. But how will I do this? Still writing...

First, I would dangle a bit of hope in front of my friends faces. My friends could be neighbors, couchsurfers, or musicians. But I wouldn't be so cruel as to actually lead someone on... I have a brilliant set of ideas about life, and it really wouldn't be that big of a deal to share them. That's the carrot. Then I'll make a deal with them.

Then I'll crush their fucking dreams in half, and ignore them, and belittle them, and make them sorry they ever trusted me. I'll be cruel, and vicious, yet they won't even know it's me doing it until it's too late. Just like my grandpa.

Sounds about like socialism right?

There's a great debate on whether or not people can handle socialism. And it's not the same debate as with Communism. The question is, are people too evil for socialism? Whereas with communism, it's areleaders too evil for communism. Or at least that's my understanding anyway. I also hear that the two ideas are very similar.

I'm way ahead of my mother. In fact I'm fucking brilliant. I knew we were heading, as a family, down the socialist path long before she did, and I handle it with a little more grace--ie, less radicalism--than she has.

But my grandfather's no socialist. Let's just say he's out of the picture for now.

You're wondering, does this kid even understand socialism? Hell no. It means whatever the hell I want it to mean. And that's what socialism is all about.

Still writing...

The owner of the house that I'm living in thinks she's starting a commune. But what she doesn't know is that I could essentially trap every single one of those fellas in my little game. Just like old gramps. I guess he's still here after all. Perhaps by the end of her experiment, she'll regret ever starting it.

I hope not. I sincerely hope not. And this is where I save socialism for everybody: I sincerely, from the bottom of my age, hope that she does not regret starting this commune. I don't know that she won't. I'm not claiming to have divine intuition. I'm just reinforcing with every part of myself that this goes well.

But it's not my plan. Hell, I'll probably just listen to music and watch Hey Arnold. Psyched.

So a little story now. First, I need to change my layout. But really what'll come first is my story. Mom. She's been going on about how she thinks she might be a socialist. And my only response is, I fucking know, I fucking know that you are a socialist mom. I do not care. I do not think socialism is a good idea. I sincerely hope (once again) that her radicalism does not interfere with my plans.

But they are. They have. And they will. Her plans will affect my life that is. I can't say I'm influenced by her newfound radicalism. I'm just perturbed by it and it's consequences for me.

But maybe she is influencing me. I am after all moving into this commune. This socialist fucking commune. Which will be a test of ... socialization for me. That's the connection I was making to socialism. Maybe that really is what socialism means. Sharing everything with... everyone. Sharing people. I much prefer to share ideas than to share people.

People mimic each other. Will I fail as a leader and just mimic the people that come into the house? What a waste of time that would be. But I'm insecure enough that that just might happen. Yet I'm also aware that it could happen, so will that stop it from happening?

And this whole post is just a passive aggressive rant about my grandpa. Still writing...

Perhaps I'm dodging the real problem of my life by focusing on socialism. It is after all, easy to understand. We're living a modern socialist life. A nightmare, perhaps. England's worse. I'm never moving to london. But I have to get to a city, and Oklahoma City's the closest one. So off I go, into the radical world of socialism as a tiny little person, up against the world, lost never to be found...