deja vu

Its been a while since Joe Bageant published the Zombie Food Court piece, I would have thought that revelation alone would have changed some of us forever, but it did not. Some of us think such knowledge are just words arranged in a particularly appealing manner, maybe as appealing as Classic Comics, better than the average Mickey Mouse, but just cartoons after all is said and done. Joe's work was followed up, by me anyway, into Arthur Silber's Once Upon a Time blog, I'd liken it to post grad studies for those of us who majored in Zombie Food Courts during the undergrad phase in the Honors section and which head-master Visible rules the entire university, humorously, but indisputably. I can offer but small details, little subvariations on the theme, sociological anthropology I understand its called. Readership has nothing to do with anything after a point, the point being a moment in time where you pause to reflect on everything happening before rejoining your normal life, the one where you do laundry, collect firewood, buy milk at the convenience store gas pump fried chicken stripmall add-on. Sometimes I wish I'd never started blogging, its always there, waiting for more food, an open yaw like a comma in the day. Shall we talk about this week and last? Dinnergate? Tigergate? Huckabeegate? Ohhhhh, Climategate? No, how bout Moretroopsgate? We will not talk about healthgate. I am flat out never in the mood to discuss the health reform bill, why that's just talking trash and we don't want do that now, do we? In fact, there is nothing the Illusion does that is worth talking about unless we're talking real and since there is nothing real about the Illusion, we'd be talking about things that are said to be happening that are the opposite of what is and will be happening. Is there any point in talking about activities that do not exist and never have?

I am far more interested in real things. Then it gets good. Then my ears perk up, finally, we've been waiting for this. Why things are the way they are, our patterns, cycles, how we traverse this journey on this planet in this era. What we do for our survival, the graduating extremes we allow ourselves to experience and how we feel about our experience, that's the hot area. For example, at this stage of the miseducation of the born outcast, at this level of understanding where we admit to knowing nothing, but know something indescribable is taking place, you know things out there are impacting your trip ... severely. You know it is on the increase and you have no idea when it will change for the better or what to do to help that change along. If you are watching others, as we cannot help but do, you are amazed how much punishment they can take and remarkably, the suicide rate is relatively low for these ongoing horrors. Of course, suicide takes many forms, the most common aside from actually jumping off a tall building is substance abuse in which every act and breath is slow death. Another and likely even more common is the fallback into your pattern suicide. This is where one reverts to autopilot behavior learned from childhood success with the method, the one where you infinitely repeat your scenes, good and bad, in different geographies, employments or social situations meaning they are always disguised from the performers as if something new was taking place requiring a brand new solution every time. This is especially common to repeat victims in domestic violence and repeat offenders of crimes, they fail to note the overall picture of their life is unchanging due to a change of costume and the variance in script. When you understand the stakes in the game, you run as fast as possible to the most comfortable outlet, which is your own pattern, its always been there, there must be huge comfort in its familiarity - but none of that is noticed. Not noticing is what keeps the pattern happy. It does not have to deal with any Zombie Food Courts or petty emotional drama. Mostly, its the least embarrassing of all choices because you think its not noticed by anyone and its probably not since everyone else is busy patterning as well.
At some horrible point the pattern is broken and personal change is inevitable. It always happens, no one gets out of here alive. For some of us there are a series of pivotal moments which have the cumulative effect of powerful adjustment and we can see ourselves as we are, at least briefly. If only we had done this, or that, then. Its a very individual thing, the one mind is made up of humans carrying damaged baggage packed with individualized memories. Its only fair to see ourselves as the sum combination of inherited biological traits and anthropogenic experience. Patterns in plots we could say, all of us protagonists and all of us behind the Super 8 working toward that Fellini moment. We won't get there because that is just the pattern working in which the same old solutions are applied to the same old situations that brought you to where you are at this moment in time, typing, puffing, reading bad news, procrastinating on possibility, the broken record going round and round repeating a David Crosby lyric:

...And I feel
Like I've been here before
Feel
Like I've been here before
And you know
It makes me wonder
What's going on...

I'm just going to say this one time, we are already in the predicted disaster. The reason it isn't better known is things appear visually to be the same as always, when you look out there. We mustn't acknowledge disaster because that would incite real civil war the likes of which have never been imagined or exist in any pattern anywhere with this amount of people in this amount of misery. What is of constant amazement to me personally is that we are alive on Earth in this time to see it if we are looking. I want no part of it, just as I want no part of terrorgate, greenshootgate and deficitgate, but we both know peace of mind and tranquility is extremely rare as of late, don't we. One must make the effort, in spite of circumstance, to do something good for oneself and others as often as possible. Its the only thing that works. Trust me, I know.