So much trouble in the world
So much trouble in the world
Bless my eyes this morning
Jah sun is on the rise once again
The way earthly thin's are goin'
Anything can happen.
You see men sailing on their ego trip,
Blast off on their spaceship,
Million miles from reality:
No care for you, no care for me.
So much trouble in the world;
So much trouble in the world...
Yes I. Indeed. Anything can happen ... and will and does. As you know well, by now, at this time in this form in this particular go around on this spectacular Earthly plane.
Imagine, for example, what the next leaders of the multitudes of lives and lifestyles within our geography will be doing at their polished desks among all the rare antiquities surrounded by their special chosen Cabinet. Think about how they think of you - and then think about the generations to come.
Are we in agreement that it is absurd that the legal personhoods continue to flood coastal cities with waterfront development? We wonder if the Blonde vs. Blonde voting populations also find it absurd. I think not. With one, we get to be subjects of the Roman Empire on Steroids, with the other, slave gladiators. As in anything can happen perhaps nothing like what I've just described will happen. Judging by the American experience since WW2, a good bet would be no positive change, but an exponential growth of what we already have and see now - which will, naturally, unfold rapidly since this is how they already do it, momentum is increased at every opportunity and the opportunities are unlimited. My friends, we are in uncharted territory.
UNLESS
You see it for what you always saw it, lodged in buildings built by slaves housing the slickest of the slick, where they do what they think are slick things. These things are rarely in and nowhere near our favor because people who make rules always make rules in their favor whether they know it or not. Their favor means anything further separating them from those who are disfavored, be it status, power, visibility or loyalties favoring all whom they perceive to be just like themselves.
To live a happy life, forget about them and enjoy JAH suns and moons. Teach the children love and compassion. Stay with your own creativity, it never fails to keep you high and away, above the BS and free. Keep your mind open and learning. Stay away from judgements, instead look for the overview.
Surely there are many who sacrifice enjoying a happy life out of sheer gluttony for status, power and visibility. They made their choices long ago and we should not expect them to change now, therefore, it is up to us to live our happy lives as best we can. By using the term "happy life", I mean living a life in which you respect your own existence and everyone else's also. If you have love for yourself, it radiates into everything you do, everyone you see, all species you come across, not just those with whom you are already close, but the "strangers" you frequently meet in your journey. More often than not, I am a little shocked and pleased to find new like minds where I never thought I would. For Izzy who commented on our last post he wished it was easier to find like minds off line as it is for him online, I would think the more time you can spend offline, the more you give of yourself, you come across like minds. Another thing that must be stated about happy lives isn't exactly Izzy's issue as he stated it, rather it is a common trait among human beings to create a pattern in the unconscious mind of just how a stranger must appear and sound in order to communicate with them. It is extraordinarily beneficial to recognize that trait is a survival throwback to the dawn of Humankind and has virtually no basis in your mission on Earth within the Heavens. All uncharted territory is opportunity.
Verse: So Much Trouble In The World
Bob Marley & The Wailers, from Songs of Freedom
Showing posts with label The Illusion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Illusion. Show all posts
Sunday, May 15, 2016
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
belief & hope
Good Evening Friends. Here we are again, it hasn't been that long really, only two weeks as opposed to a real hiatus. I prefer to call it a sabbatical because the word itself conjures something much closer to what I do offline. I'm not sweetening it, actually sweet is too weak a word when you live in the continuous state of Present Shock where every twenty-four hour cycle is Halloween combined with April's Fool's Day. The changes just keep coming, never think anything is static. Anything. The energy fields have been bent to ramp it up. This week's watchword is BELIEVE.
Last night, directly on the heels of our past few weeks into the fall semester, during which we were inundated, drip fed, rudely awakened from our physically and mentally restorative safe havens of creative vesselship, we were taught, in black and white, beyond all shadow of doubt, how foolish and irresponsible are the designers of spaceman hazmat suits, medical caregivers, mass transportation screeners and military scribes when it comes to pandemic preparedness. Kinda like if western medical personnel and those just following orders have turned into the Malaysian Airlines copywriting staff for this one. Why are we supposed to think that?
I'd like to know what the military thinks it can accomplish by exposing its forces to Ebola, which brings me to Dublin Mick's bombshell post where he quotes Jim Stone on the massive wolf cry of Ebola. I read it last night and noted the conversation in the comments on my previous post are quickly turning in that direction and feel probably a lot like everyone else which is:
I don't know what to believe.
Only Jah know what going down.
Of course, I've been over it again and again and unfortunately we have some precedents for this kind of thing, enough so the boy who cries wolf appears to be typical of perhaps, a whining toddler trying to get
his/her way. But we don't really know, do we. There is a progressive negative aftermath to all that we've witnessed on our devices. And for everything we've been thrown, really, there is no other way to think about it. but still ... hope and belief come creepin' round. run...
Things come across the internet that intend to produce an effect. Through this medium, we are taught and shown examples of what is good and what is bad, regardless that these "things" are very often contradictory.
Perhaps we need to stop believing in belief. There is only one thing we can be sure of and that is ourselves, but even personal faith is sometimes unreliable. When it is unreliable to us, we seek opinions from those we "believe" to be wiser than ourselves. In Present Shock, this crazy, ruthless, over-intense, mind and body destroying avalanche of information can debilitate even the most trusted of our vanishing advisers.
Because Hope is belief's accomplice. Together, they are old habits of cowardice in concentration. Delusional U-turns on a circular beltway.
We need neither to survive. We never did and still don't. I shouldn't have to point that out.
Real fact is helpful where you can find it. Connected to our devices, the device on which you are reading this text, there is unfortunately little, perhaps none, to be found. Thus, the marketing, development and continuous upgrading of these devices becomes the only way to manage seven billion hopeful believers while the planet is shredded into a million, quadrillion, tiny pieces.
Last night, directly on the heels of our past few weeks into the fall semester, during which we were inundated, drip fed, rudely awakened from our physically and mentally restorative safe havens of creative vesselship, we were taught, in black and white, beyond all shadow of doubt, how foolish and irresponsible are the designers of spaceman hazmat suits, medical caregivers, mass transportation screeners and military scribes when it comes to pandemic preparedness. Kinda like if western medical personnel and those just following orders have turned into the Malaysian Airlines copywriting staff for this one. Why are we supposed to think that?
I'd like to know what the military thinks it can accomplish by exposing its forces to Ebola, which brings me to Dublin Mick's bombshell post where he quotes Jim Stone on the massive wolf cry of Ebola. I read it last night and noted the conversation in the comments on my previous post are quickly turning in that direction and feel probably a lot like everyone else which is:
I don't know what to believe.
Only Jah know what going down.
Of course, I've been over it again and again and unfortunately we have some precedents for this kind of thing, enough so the boy who cries wolf appears to be typical of perhaps, a whining toddler trying to get
his/her way. But we don't really know, do we. There is a progressive negative aftermath to all that we've witnessed on our devices. And for everything we've been thrown, really, there is no other way to think about it. but still ... hope and belief come creepin' round. run...
Things come across the internet that intend to produce an effect. Through this medium, we are taught and shown examples of what is good and what is bad, regardless that these "things" are very often contradictory.
Perhaps we need to stop believing in belief. There is only one thing we can be sure of and that is ourselves, but even personal faith is sometimes unreliable. When it is unreliable to us, we seek opinions from those we "believe" to be wiser than ourselves. In Present Shock, this crazy, ruthless, over-intense, mind and body destroying avalanche of information can debilitate even the most trusted of our vanishing advisers.
Because Hope is belief's accomplice. Together, they are old habits of cowardice in concentration. Delusional U-turns on a circular beltway.
We need neither to survive. We never did and still don't. I shouldn't have to point that out.
Real fact is helpful where you can find it. Connected to our devices, the device on which you are reading this text, there is unfortunately little, perhaps none, to be found. Thus, the marketing, development and continuous upgrading of these devices becomes the only way to manage seven billion hopeful believers while the planet is shredded into a million, quadrillion, tiny pieces.
Friday, September 19, 2014
picking up where we left off...
On the same page as our beloved and insightful, tell-it-like-it-is friend, Bho, I ask you who among us who does not feel the craziest days and nights of all time past and to come, are heaving themselves in front of us - so that we are forced against our will to feel the hot, foul breath of the beast, the stink of his burnt tongue from slurping the fires of Hell? We are just simple people, never asking for, never imagining, never looking for the House of Horrors on a bright, sunny afternoon kicking back in essex green Adirondack chairs on the deck overlooking the perfect beauty of Nature. I began to count concurrent events before my hiatus, but the events rolled themselves into what began as a series of global news stories, each international, previously unheard of www.slime.rag on overtime pushing details regardless how insignificant, or false, designed purely to inspire fear and loathing, and quickly grew into a Ripley's Believe it or Not, including immediate placement in the Guinness Book of Gargantuan, Stupid and Hypocritical Earth Shattering Records. Now, today, and for evermore, in our remaining times among the living, a monster ball of dung trails the slouching beast, growing larger and heavier, squatting on our sad blue planet, surely she, blameless, is weeping tonight.
But her wrath is sly, her rope unlimited and she allows the Hominid species to simply hang themselves.
If you been readin' the news pages on your device of choice, you know what I'm sayin'.
It goes without question, life is about learning. We who are aware we are always learning and accept what we experience as a teaching moment, good or bad, are able to draw on those lessons because these lessons are integral (our nature) and lifelong. If those experiences are perceived without overstanding, or fleeting, or just never acknowledged at all, where would you be now? Probably in a maximum security prison of your own making, certain you are innocent of whatever crime that put you there, you were just going along, caught up in your materialist fantasy, accepting of your entire current life situation on the Great Plantation when WHAM. Something happened, could be anything, you know, but you don't know what happened because responsibility of any sort was never in your vernacular.
I didn't come into this observation recently. It seems to grow in league with population stats so that everything strongly disagreeable, ridiculous, backwards, tragic, corrupt and evil multiplied exponentially, which should mean the antithesis multiplied exponentially also, but no, it did not happen as the TAO explains the natural balance of beauty and ugliness. It meant instead, the heinous acts of the Yang overlapped its boundary into the Yin, in doing so, the balance undone, quaked, the axis spins wildly out of control. One could, if mathematically inclined, actually calculate where all of this is going since it continues, unabated, nothing at all on the horizon impeding its excesses.
Sometimes we wonder how it came to be this way in the spare moments between events. Is it genetic imbecility or is it unabated narcissism? Or is it both and more? I don't completely count out otherworldly. Are we merely a proving ground, a coliseum for hostile aliens?
... Intermission for Meditation ...
Far away, in another land, a tropical dream where the overseers are right on the edge of legalizing weed for religious purposes, our Rasta continues to build his paradise where on warm, silvery nights you can see the moon looking into his door.
But her wrath is sly, her rope unlimited and she allows the Hominid species to simply hang themselves.
If you been readin' the news pages on your device of choice, you know what I'm sayin'.
It goes without question, life is about learning. We who are aware we are always learning and accept what we experience as a teaching moment, good or bad, are able to draw on those lessons because these lessons are integral (our nature) and lifelong. If those experiences are perceived without overstanding, or fleeting, or just never acknowledged at all, where would you be now? Probably in a maximum security prison of your own making, certain you are innocent of whatever crime that put you there, you were just going along, caught up in your materialist fantasy, accepting of your entire current life situation on the Great Plantation when WHAM. Something happened, could be anything, you know, but you don't know what happened because responsibility of any sort was never in your vernacular.
I didn't come into this observation recently. It seems to grow in league with population stats so that everything strongly disagreeable, ridiculous, backwards, tragic, corrupt and evil multiplied exponentially, which should mean the antithesis multiplied exponentially also, but no, it did not happen as the TAO explains the natural balance of beauty and ugliness. It meant instead, the heinous acts of the Yang overlapped its boundary into the Yin, in doing so, the balance undone, quaked, the axis spins wildly out of control. One could, if mathematically inclined, actually calculate where all of this is going since it continues, unabated, nothing at all on the horizon impeding its excesses.
Sometimes we wonder how it came to be this way in the spare moments between events. Is it genetic imbecility or is it unabated narcissism? Or is it both and more? I don't completely count out otherworldly. Are we merely a proving ground, a coliseum for hostile aliens?
... Intermission for Meditation ...
Far away, in another land, a tropical dream where the overseers are right on the edge of legalizing weed for religious purposes, our Rasta continues to build his paradise where on warm, silvery nights you can see the moon looking into his door.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
the sliming
Is it not strange to you how there has been a recent cluster of three riveting global disasters, not including the warring separatists and all that symbolizes and portends, with losses in similar numbers, MH370/Malaysia, stolen Nigerian schoolgirls and the sinking of the South Korean ferry ... the numbers of losses change as some have managed escape and dependent on who is doing the reporting, however, they range in the 200 to 300 figure.
UPDATE: Add the Turkish Miners burned to death underground...which presents to us now as a quartetto of riveting global disasters which very nearly if not exactly, are running along at about one x per week. Ahem ...Oh and the Nigerian schoolgirls have not been found at this writing. Why is that? Its not, please tell me its not, its not that which we already know. A tiny festering sore ignored because energy is getting expensive just like everything throughout civilization is running out. Slip Sliding Away. Change soon come, my Spars.
end of update
I am not going to get into the details, all who are reading here at this moment cannot help but absorb international headlines. Thetrinity quartet of three four human crises in a row feels other worldly. It feels like whatever the truth is concerning the cause of each disaster and the actions that led to them, won't ever be known, but generalized in a manner that makes it easy for western peoples to file under Backward with a sub folder of Corrupt and go on to a new tab.
I would like to note in addition to the publicly available data, the media, perhaps to keep these stories live and continue collecting revenue, seem to over emphasize, actually relish, the local backwards handling of these three disasters within each respective country.
The Message?
In each case, great dishonor has been done to those who acted as they only knew how to act. After all, when decent human beings are face to face with certain death, do the rules any longer apply? Instead they are slammed to the wall. As if anything less than the highest tech, Snowdenized drone militia could have possibly saved everything that happened from happening at all, as if, for example, Nigeria's shores had not already been helplessly shackled by Black Gold under the land where their people arrived into this very world. They live differently than we do in every way you can and can not possibly imagine. Each country has its own operational style and culture. How they accomplish what they must is on a very different timetable than ours, certainly under our extended Present Shock. Where does this come-lately, comic book journalism get the hutzpah to brazenly speculate, insinuating blame and fault, when blame and fault always serves to worsen any crisis? Subterfuge shortly becomes its own crisis. That would mean more news. More billboarding. More pop ups on the highways of our trip. More of everything that makes us what we are perceived as being. Slick badasses with the word. And that word is money. The manual: How to Covertly Create Subservience.
We are to think only WE~tikos, yea!, are the only intelligent life form on the planet. Why, only Vampires and Cannibals always do everything necessary and also, are always right AND in a timely fashion! Must we remind them of the Bush Brownie Chertoff debacle of Katrina? Yes, Mr, Chertoff told the nation he read about it in the Saturday morning paper over coffee while bodies were floating upside down in the streets of New Orleans. And then there was that early news clip following 911, if I recall correctly, immediately following the goat book reading, Bush was reported to have flown around aimlessly in AF1 eating ice cream before deciding to hang out at (safe, comfortably distracting) Warren's crib.
UPDATE: Add the Turkish Miners burned to death underground...which presents to us now as a quartetto of riveting global disasters which very nearly if not exactly, are running along at about one x per week. Ahem ...Oh and the Nigerian schoolgirls have not been found at this writing. Why is that? Its not, please tell me its not, its not that which we already know. A tiny festering sore ignored because energy is getting expensive just like everything throughout civilization is running out. Slip Sliding Away. Change soon come, my Spars.
end of update
I am not going to get into the details, all who are reading here at this moment cannot help but absorb international headlines. The
I would like to note in addition to the publicly available data, the media, perhaps to keep these stories live and continue collecting revenue, seem to over emphasize, actually relish, the local backwards handling of these three disasters within each respective country.
The Message?
In each case, great dishonor has been done to those who acted as they only knew how to act. After all, when decent human beings are face to face with certain death, do the rules any longer apply? Instead they are slammed to the wall. As if anything less than the highest tech, Snowdenized drone militia could have possibly saved everything that happened from happening at all, as if, for example, Nigeria's shores had not already been helplessly shackled by Black Gold under the land where their people arrived into this very world. They live differently than we do in every way you can and can not possibly imagine. Each country has its own operational style and culture. How they accomplish what they must is on a very different timetable than ours, certainly under our extended Present Shock. Where does this come-lately, comic book journalism get the hutzpah to brazenly speculate, insinuating blame and fault, when blame and fault always serves to worsen any crisis? Subterfuge shortly becomes its own crisis. That would mean more news. More billboarding. More pop ups on the highways of our trip. More of everything that makes us what we are perceived as being. Slick badasses with the word. And that word is money. The manual: How to Covertly Create Subservience.
We are to think only WE~tikos, yea!, are the only intelligent life form on the planet. Why, only Vampires and Cannibals always do everything necessary and also, are always right AND in a timely fashion! Must we remind them of the Bush Brownie Chertoff debacle of Katrina? Yes, Mr, Chertoff told the nation he read about it in the Saturday morning paper over coffee while bodies were floating upside down in the streets of New Orleans. And then there was that early news clip following 911, if I recall correctly, immediately following the goat book reading, Bush was reported to have flown around aimlessly in AF1 eating ice cream before deciding to hang out at (safe, comfortably distracting) Warren's crib.
Friday, April 05, 2013
Too Hot to Handle, Too Cold to Survive
Good Evening Friends, welcome again to another episode of Lies & Diversions. Tonight, as we lean back in our office style swivel chairs, surrounded by the warmth of a glowing fireplace brightening our War Rooms, we invite you to take a little trip with us into certain, rather frightful places, some call it the unknown, but that would be only because they have not been paying attention. They have been paying attention to the aps and features on their bluetoothed phones between absent-minded mouthfuls of whatever high cholesterol, fructosed, BHT preserved and crunchy crackling bag contents they've sequestered in their desk drawers, occasionally spraying large gulps of green Monster on the desktop. They think you are laughing with them because they are funny, but you are laughing at them because maligning them is not spiritually healthy.
As a mood-setting prelude for tonight's episode, here are a few select lyrics from "Desolation Row" off the Highway 61 Revisited album. Are you going to ask me who wrote them?
... They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As lady and I look out tonight
From desolation row ...
When you asked how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Don't send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From desolation row
If you'd rather listen than read poetry, visit the link and turn up your speakers, although this particular version has a skippable ad before the stills. Why can't we view the original? Because standards and licensing agencies appear to have found something objectionable about desolation. "This video contains content from SME and The Harry Fox Agency, Inc. (HFA), one or more of whom have blocked it in your country on copyright grounds." Cough, cough...
It is interesting to me that Visible's recommendation of the film, Memento, so remarkably captures visually much of the same high weirdness, tragedy and romance we pondered over the years listening to Dylan's musical metaphors. Thank you Vizzy. In Memento, with the funky sexy Guy Pierce (also in The Road, the calming father with his family at the beach) as our protagonist who has lost his short-term memory, aka the inability to make new memories. Check out the trailer and skip the brief Jurrasic Park-extreme ad if you like. Memento is THE perfect film for these times, crazy, backwards and forwards, completely lacking the continuity necessary for making sense in our once civilized world of dates, calendars, clocks and schedules big and small. I suggested you see it last summer, but if you have not done so yet, let me remind you again, its very, very good. Easy to rent too.
***
I read Clusterfuck Nation every Monday morning. Its just what I do, along with all the other blogs on my bloglist. I don't usually comment there because its a crowded house and heavy on self-adverts, but Mr. K's entertaining writing style and take on our state of affairs are always interesting, often localized, you get a clear picture of what seedy desolation has overtaken upstate NY and much of small town New England. This Monday's read contained a link it would be well worth your while to investigate. Kunstler never links and I'm not going to give you a direct link. I think you will find out why when you visit the sole link wedged into the middle of Kunstler's essay. You can't miss it, it ties together more than a few billboarded and blathering diversions and puts truth to your worst suspicions, if you have them, if you allow yourself to ask the hard questions, if you are able to grasp a complex concept and follow it to its natural outsome. Some of you may not be shocked at all. Some of you may even have known all along the BRICS are well underway in their program. There is no way our overlords will take this oncoming economic ostracisation sitting back, handwringing, unless action is taken before the fact - which may happen. The MSM just ignores it, continuing on with gay marriage, the downfall of Lilo, powerball frauds and absurd employment/home sales statistics.
Decide for yourselves and feel free to comment even if you have never commented here before. This needs discussion. It does appear we are facing Memento on Desolation Row come round at last. All that we have been preparing for, all along, was this. We may not have to prepare anymore because if we've been good, loving, compassionate little persons, we might soon wind up on Pandora with our beloved Scout, ..neil.. HI NEIL!
As a mood-setting prelude for tonight's episode, here are a few select lyrics from "Desolation Row" off the Highway 61 Revisited album. Are you going to ask me who wrote them?
... They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As lady and I look out tonight
From desolation row ...
When you asked how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Don't send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From desolation row
If you'd rather listen than read poetry, visit the link and turn up your speakers, although this particular version has a skippable ad before the stills. Why can't we view the original? Because standards and licensing agencies appear to have found something objectionable about desolation. "This video contains content from SME and The Harry Fox Agency, Inc. (HFA), one or more of whom have blocked it in your country on copyright grounds." Cough, cough...
It is interesting to me that Visible's recommendation of the film, Memento, so remarkably captures visually much of the same high weirdness, tragedy and romance we pondered over the years listening to Dylan's musical metaphors. Thank you Vizzy. In Memento, with the funky sexy Guy Pierce (also in The Road, the calming father with his family at the beach) as our protagonist who has lost his short-term memory, aka the inability to make new memories. Check out the trailer and skip the brief Jurrasic Park-extreme ad if you like. Memento is THE perfect film for these times, crazy, backwards and forwards, completely lacking the continuity necessary for making sense in our once civilized world of dates, calendars, clocks and schedules big and small. I suggested you see it last summer, but if you have not done so yet, let me remind you again, its very, very good. Easy to rent too.
***
I read Clusterfuck Nation every Monday morning. Its just what I do, along with all the other blogs on my bloglist. I don't usually comment there because its a crowded house and heavy on self-adverts, but Mr. K's entertaining writing style and take on our state of affairs are always interesting, often localized, you get a clear picture of what seedy desolation has overtaken upstate NY and much of small town New England. This Monday's read contained a link it would be well worth your while to investigate. Kunstler never links and I'm not going to give you a direct link. I think you will find out why when you visit the sole link wedged into the middle of Kunstler's essay. You can't miss it, it ties together more than a few billboarded and blathering diversions and puts truth to your worst suspicions, if you have them, if you allow yourself to ask the hard questions, if you are able to grasp a complex concept and follow it to its natural outsome. Some of you may not be shocked at all. Some of you may even have known all along the BRICS are well underway in their program. There is no way our overlords will take this oncoming economic ostracisation sitting back, handwringing, unless action is taken before the fact - which may happen. The MSM just ignores it, continuing on with gay marriage, the downfall of Lilo, powerball frauds and absurd employment/home sales statistics.
Decide for yourselves and feel free to comment even if you have never commented here before. This needs discussion. It does appear we are facing Memento on Desolation Row come round at last. All that we have been preparing for, all along, was this. We may not have to prepare anymore because if we've been good, loving, compassionate little persons, we might soon wind up on Pandora with our beloved Scout, ..neil.. HI NEIL!
Wednesday, November 02, 2011
You say you want a revolution
"You say you want a revolution
Well, you know
We all want to change the world
You tell me that it's evolution
Well, you know
We all want to change the world
But when you talk about destruction
Don't you know that you can count me out ..."
John Lennon
If war was outlawed, which in the truth of Jah Almighty it is, there would be no crime. There would be no atrocities, no theft, no empire, no demand for more, no false growth, no need to be larger than we are for we are merely animals in costumes playing games with evil since civilian direction comes not from higher authority in these matters, but from the cesspools of conflict, consumption and selfishness.
Look where we are now as a species, paranoid and presumptuous, having completely lost our way, unable to act without acting irrationally, unable to make the connections required to achieve any goal to help the greater good prevail. As long as we war, we are locked into self defeat. Every issue, problem, disaster, argument is solvable, easily by taking the high road which our authorities (not mine, not yours, but those of the directionless ego driven self-spawned celebrity leaders and their investors) refuse to recognize as the only road to real growth and salvation of the human being. Just because we were born into it is no justification, just because history states these things as always having gone on, is again no excuse it continue now. We are at the bottom sinking deeper, there is no end in sight to the problems of men and still the grand illusion prevails as the only way forward. The joke of life is that no one ever states the obvious, much less lives it since six billion and ninety nine million human animals fear losing the miniscule portion of whatever is left them after they've lost seemingly everything that mattered.
If you missed this comment from Scrapwood last week, please force yourself to absorb it now, it lies at the heart of our existence.
I cannot recall a more sickening item online than the relentless mainstream media link to a frame-by-frame video of Qaddafi's sodomization. It was up for days, I refused the invite, holding back my revulsion simply from the vision as puke rose in the esophagus and wondered who in their right mind would click to view it. Is this what entertains my brothers and sisters now? Who among you salivates at seeing the sword draw blood from the anus of another person? My God! After what the human race has done to this man, even if it was his double, the unmarked grave, the total lack of celebration of a life, the pro-lifers in the candidate's seat swearing life begins at conception, utterly lacking in compassion for lives currently in existence as if every man and woman other than the speaker is an immediate threat. And as if that wasn't enough, hour by hour every single day, the crime on the ground fully emulates the enuring of our species. No matter where you are, lock down your life, danger lurks. Seal yourself from the others, their intention is always evil. You would think serial killing home invaders are calling the shots and for all we know, that could well be the case. Actually, I can't think of a better description of bigshots busying themselves dreaming of newer and ever-slimier activities.
Now the world is imploding because their economies are in failure, I ask you, what did you expect from an illusion? Don't tell me you bought into the fantasy of unlimited growth. If we are living on a finite planet, with finite resources, for a finite period of say eighty or so years, the entire concept of infinity is meaningless. There is only one infinity and that is the infinity of the Creator. The rest is gibberish, a massive con. Something to do while we breathe in, breathe out. Unfortunately it is a con that is woven from potentially indestructible complexities and doomed to persist until everyone is converted or dead or beaten down never to rise again to expose at last the impossibility of existence in any other medium other than that of impossibly infinite growth. All this worsens in the face of climate chaos. Nothing, not even God, stands in the way, in fact, climate payback empowers greater heights of spectacular hustles as if secretly, in the black heart of the pusher, time is of the essence. Oh, they know. Grab it all while the getting is good because soon enough somebody else will.
It all translates down the ranks into the unconscious mind of the little man just doing his best to get along until one day he is sick and tired of losing and acts on his own or more likely shovels the scheme onto his offspring that this IS how the world works and you'd better put in your two cents or you too shall lose. So we have the strangest deviations in civilian life no normal person could imagine. All the little powerless egos climbing on the bandwagon wearing badges of full faith in the religions of hatred of their fellows. Among the greatest of distortions is the distortion that fawning over atrocity is somehow evidence of Godly prowess.
There is no need for me to go into how this came about, it is simply a matter of selfish creature comfort taken to grotesque extremes, the python swallows the deer because he is hungry and has no idea what he is doing other than satisfying his urge. By this time, this time in the evolution of the human being animal, the spiteful power hungry have utterly lost any ability to relate to God and that is also not a surprise since the churches they attend reflect back to them the righteousness of their falsity. That war and war crimes are good and holy even, that economic superiority is necessary for the enrichment of their dogma and since the system as it presently exists is a supposedly established fact of life not to be questioned ever, but supported by aligning with the massive press of vainglorious authority for limitless expansion of more and greater deceit.
You could think, in these times, they've won. You could think you must escape, that where this leads is truly not for you, you could think all is lost and contemplate leaving for good by any means possible. If this is where you find yourself, I want to remind you that your very presence on Earth is a thorn on their rosebush. As long as you live, your existence is that which cannot be overcome. You stand in the way of the more they have in mind. I suggest you stick around as perhaps one of the few who see them for what they are and see through what they do, they are shallow, small creatures and do not have the ability to experience love that you do. Let your own life stand for that which they can never achieve. They can wreck everything, but not your personal heart and soul. In this way, they will never win. If they have not won you, they have already lost whatever wars they think they are fighting. That is the real revolution to work towards and it is entirely possible, everything else is open to political debate, scams, taking away, taking apart, atrocity, annihilation. There is an easier way, evolve yourself into your own sanctity. Make yourself the example of what you want a revolution to accomplish. Back off from common compromise which will always end up shoveling you back into the morass of evil and cherish your ability to feel compassion and love in all its sweet simplicity and bountiful, infinite rewards.
I have finally gotten around to reading Journey to Ixtlan, the Lessons of Don Juan by Carlos Castaneda. Better late than never. The line which applies here is from Don Juan's observation "Everybody thinks someone is doing something to them. But no one is really doing anything to anyone." We have to suppose that a huge majority willingly, consistenly, allows themselves to become pythons thinking pythons always triumph, let's go along with them to the bitter end. The problem with that is once the belly is satisfied it always craves more unless you personally reach for a higher relationship. It is up to us to to make that reach. Once you make it, you'll wonder why you didn't make it sooner. The timing doesn't matter, the reach alone matters. Being here matters. We were freely given a present of life, let's look further inside the box. There is a lot of good stuff in there we've cast aside because a fleeting authority of the moment decreed we look to them instead for our sustenance.
Well, you know
We all want to change the world
You tell me that it's evolution
Well, you know
We all want to change the world
But when you talk about destruction
Don't you know that you can count me out ..."
John Lennon
If war was outlawed, which in the truth of Jah Almighty it is, there would be no crime. There would be no atrocities, no theft, no empire, no demand for more, no false growth, no need to be larger than we are for we are merely animals in costumes playing games with evil since civilian direction comes not from higher authority in these matters, but from the cesspools of conflict, consumption and selfishness.
Look where we are now as a species, paranoid and presumptuous, having completely lost our way, unable to act without acting irrationally, unable to make the connections required to achieve any goal to help the greater good prevail. As long as we war, we are locked into self defeat. Every issue, problem, disaster, argument is solvable, easily by taking the high road which our authorities (not mine, not yours, but those of the directionless ego driven self-spawned celebrity leaders and their investors) refuse to recognize as the only road to real growth and salvation of the human being. Just because we were born into it is no justification, just because history states these things as always having gone on, is again no excuse it continue now. We are at the bottom sinking deeper, there is no end in sight to the problems of men and still the grand illusion prevails as the only way forward. The joke of life is that no one ever states the obvious, much less lives it since six billion and ninety nine million human animals fear losing the miniscule portion of whatever is left them after they've lost seemingly everything that mattered.
If you missed this comment from Scrapwood last week, please force yourself to absorb it now, it lies at the heart of our existence.
We are, like all things, just fleeting forms already on our way to somewhere else. Poised between black despair and exquisite beauty, ours is a geologic perspective, a vision of the human cast against the elemental sweep of the universe. As in Tu Fu's most famous line: "the nation falls into ruins: rivers and mountains continue."
We all share the exile in a wilderness cosmology of relentless transformation.
I cannot recall a more sickening item online than the relentless mainstream media link to a frame-by-frame video of Qaddafi's sodomization. It was up for days, I refused the invite, holding back my revulsion simply from the vision as puke rose in the esophagus and wondered who in their right mind would click to view it. Is this what entertains my brothers and sisters now? Who among you salivates at seeing the sword draw blood from the anus of another person? My God! After what the human race has done to this man, even if it was his double, the unmarked grave, the total lack of celebration of a life, the pro-lifers in the candidate's seat swearing life begins at conception, utterly lacking in compassion for lives currently in existence as if every man and woman other than the speaker is an immediate threat. And as if that wasn't enough, hour by hour every single day, the crime on the ground fully emulates the enuring of our species. No matter where you are, lock down your life, danger lurks. Seal yourself from the others, their intention is always evil. You would think serial killing home invaders are calling the shots and for all we know, that could well be the case. Actually, I can't think of a better description of bigshots busying themselves dreaming of newer and ever-slimier activities.
Now the world is imploding because their economies are in failure, I ask you, what did you expect from an illusion? Don't tell me you bought into the fantasy of unlimited growth. If we are living on a finite planet, with finite resources, for a finite period of say eighty or so years, the entire concept of infinity is meaningless. There is only one infinity and that is the infinity of the Creator. The rest is gibberish, a massive con. Something to do while we breathe in, breathe out. Unfortunately it is a con that is woven from potentially indestructible complexities and doomed to persist until everyone is converted or dead or beaten down never to rise again to expose at last the impossibility of existence in any other medium other than that of impossibly infinite growth. All this worsens in the face of climate chaos. Nothing, not even God, stands in the way, in fact, climate payback empowers greater heights of spectacular hustles as if secretly, in the black heart of the pusher, time is of the essence. Oh, they know. Grab it all while the getting is good because soon enough somebody else will.
It all translates down the ranks into the unconscious mind of the little man just doing his best to get along until one day he is sick and tired of losing and acts on his own or more likely shovels the scheme onto his offspring that this IS how the world works and you'd better put in your two cents or you too shall lose. So we have the strangest deviations in civilian life no normal person could imagine. All the little powerless egos climbing on the bandwagon wearing badges of full faith in the religions of hatred of their fellows. Among the greatest of distortions is the distortion that fawning over atrocity is somehow evidence of Godly prowess.
There is no need for me to go into how this came about, it is simply a matter of selfish creature comfort taken to grotesque extremes, the python swallows the deer because he is hungry and has no idea what he is doing other than satisfying his urge. By this time, this time in the evolution of the human being animal, the spiteful power hungry have utterly lost any ability to relate to God and that is also not a surprise since the churches they attend reflect back to them the righteousness of their falsity. That war and war crimes are good and holy even, that economic superiority is necessary for the enrichment of their dogma and since the system as it presently exists is a supposedly established fact of life not to be questioned ever, but supported by aligning with the massive press of vainglorious authority for limitless expansion of more and greater deceit.
You could think, in these times, they've won. You could think you must escape, that where this leads is truly not for you, you could think all is lost and contemplate leaving for good by any means possible. If this is where you find yourself, I want to remind you that your very presence on Earth is a thorn on their rosebush. As long as you live, your existence is that which cannot be overcome. You stand in the way of the more they have in mind. I suggest you stick around as perhaps one of the few who see them for what they are and see through what they do, they are shallow, small creatures and do not have the ability to experience love that you do. Let your own life stand for that which they can never achieve. They can wreck everything, but not your personal heart and soul. In this way, they will never win. If they have not won you, they have already lost whatever wars they think they are fighting. That is the real revolution to work towards and it is entirely possible, everything else is open to political debate, scams, taking away, taking apart, atrocity, annihilation. There is an easier way, evolve yourself into your own sanctity. Make yourself the example of what you want a revolution to accomplish. Back off from common compromise which will always end up shoveling you back into the morass of evil and cherish your ability to feel compassion and love in all its sweet simplicity and bountiful, infinite rewards.
I have finally gotten around to reading Journey to Ixtlan, the Lessons of Don Juan by Carlos Castaneda. Better late than never. The line which applies here is from Don Juan's observation "Everybody thinks someone is doing something to them. But no one is really doing anything to anyone." We have to suppose that a huge majority willingly, consistenly, allows themselves to become pythons thinking pythons always triumph, let's go along with them to the bitter end. The problem with that is once the belly is satisfied it always craves more unless you personally reach for a higher relationship. It is up to us to to make that reach. Once you make it, you'll wonder why you didn't make it sooner. The timing doesn't matter, the reach alone matters. Being here matters. We were freely given a present of life, let's look further inside the box. There is a lot of good stuff in there we've cast aside because a fleeting authority of the moment decreed we look to them instead for our sustenance.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
World X sponsors revolution ap
... Here he comes, he's all dressed in black
PR shoes and a big straw hat
He's never early, he's always late
first thing you learn is that you always gotta wait
I'm waiting for my man ...
Lou Reed , lyric from I'm waiting for the man
We who have been so badly burned over and over our skins red and oozing from the lash, and not just us, but everyone all around us in their varying states of suffering, look up and see protestors on tv, on the net, in our hearts, wondering what slimey deceitful tortures await them? That is how we've come to think. We are not really Stockholm Syndromers, appreciative of any pause in the new, upgraded wheel of everything, the operating system under which slaves, wrists leashed to railroad ties overhead, power the wheel 24/7. No, nada, nunca mas, rather we are compassionate, seeking their safety, It IS becoming too big to fail, this is empowering them, every arrest empowers them more, and then when the you-know-whos make the TBTF connection, the real war, not the one that has become totally automatized and roboticized, begins. Those real wars will be the one-sided wars of exposure of the most mundane detail of a human life interpreted to mean something completely different by running it through the press release machines. Wars of ubiquitous commercialism and sponsored entertainment, great amounts of wealth will pass hands. It will be attacked as a rite of passage, the Aborigine child at last becomes a man, because no one can afford to backpack through Europe anymore, and the costs are not always financial.
When Tahrir Square's protests began, bleating pundits directed opinion in the weeks long media blitz, the one thing you knew straight on was how the Overseers viewed it. The violence was roundly "deplored". You knew they wanted to quell that thing a.s.a.p. because it was giving others in other locations in the Zombie Food Court ideas. You know what happened later and how lovely things are over there today. Why in fact, many of us will recall a bizarre photo candidly depicting the war cabinet hovered over questionably functioning laptops.
I am jaded. I see things from the inside out, not outside in. It is natural to ask about anything that appears to be one thing, if perhaps maybe its another? Life is all about learning and this just one of multitudes of ways that we learn. "What if ..." is usually a good way to present the case. It invites sharing the responsibility of a direct response. That particular method of inviting exchange can go to unusual places and you will learn what you needed to know, if you didn't already, at the least you will have confirmed your original observations.
Maybe if ... we had not already put aside false desires such as hope and belief, and lived so hard on the barren plain of the human condition, crushed by repeated falls into the stairwells of life's basement long enough to recognize the pattern and its mocking roots of Wetiko wet nurses and Wetiko religious dogma, maybe we would want to ask who started what and why. Oh, forget the "why." Moreover, forget the "who" also. Who cares? "What" is what we learn, "how" is the core. And running through the heart, pole to pole, is the arrow of evil, the Yang. In the early chapters of Arab Spring, I suggested sovereign leaders were being rotated in a manner more beneficial to Big Mo. I think all of our questions are being answered with each passing event. Especially the part about sovereign which in the language of the World X OS upgrade translates to colonial.
If we apply what we learn to another situation we might say "What if ... what if the design is inextricably in place, all that is left is more bloodletting and the good old highway robbery under the cover of darkness and freight trains, forever underwater at the company store? One of billions wet-faced in the rain racing for shelter, to the tents and migrant motels? What if ... we die and are exploited further in death by past-their-prime degenerates playing their last card last off your back? Addicts never change. They can clean up, briefly, but its always calling. You bet they are hustling again, they are in a pact from the grave. The candidates are competing with the false flags. Every time, throughout all of human existence, when they start up that shuck and jive, it is the sound of hellfire and fury heralding in another notch on the ancient Totem of history. In fact, there was another heated display of cravings just today as the Iran drumbeat drifted across the prairies with the Cartels as back-up chorus. Of course, its not doing well on the charts, its rather worthless until they can use it in conjunction with the Times Square dude and the panties on the plane mule.
What success are we seeking? We are seeking peace of mind and to be left alone to pursue our authentic interests, so many of which are denied for all the wrong reasons regardless of geography. We seek universal love and compassion, genuine peace on Earth and recognition of every living thing on the Living Planet as family. These few things are not universally sought, you know that much by now no matter what station you may be waiting in during this journey, but be comforted - you are not alone.
PR shoes and a big straw hat
He's never early, he's always late
first thing you learn is that you always gotta wait
I'm waiting for my man ...
Lou Reed , lyric from I'm waiting for the man
We who have been so badly burned over and over our skins red and oozing from the lash, and not just us, but everyone all around us in their varying states of suffering, look up and see protestors on tv, on the net, in our hearts, wondering what slimey deceitful tortures await them? That is how we've come to think. We are not really Stockholm Syndromers, appreciative of any pause in the new, upgraded wheel of everything, the operating system under which slaves, wrists leashed to railroad ties overhead, power the wheel 24/7. No, nada, nunca mas, rather we are compassionate, seeking their safety, It IS becoming too big to fail, this is empowering them, every arrest empowers them more, and then when the you-know-whos make the TBTF connection, the real war, not the one that has become totally automatized and roboticized, begins. Those real wars will be the one-sided wars of exposure of the most mundane detail of a human life interpreted to mean something completely different by running it through the press release machines. Wars of ubiquitous commercialism and sponsored entertainment, great amounts of wealth will pass hands. It will be attacked as a rite of passage, the Aborigine child at last becomes a man, because no one can afford to backpack through Europe anymore, and the costs are not always financial.
When Tahrir Square's protests began, bleating pundits directed opinion in the weeks long media blitz, the one thing you knew straight on was how the Overseers viewed it. The violence was roundly "deplored". You knew they wanted to quell that thing a.s.a.p. because it was giving others in other locations in the Zombie Food Court ideas. You know what happened later and how lovely things are over there today. Why in fact, many of us will recall a bizarre photo candidly depicting the war cabinet hovered over questionably functioning laptops.
I am jaded. I see things from the inside out, not outside in. It is natural to ask about anything that appears to be one thing, if perhaps maybe its another? Life is all about learning and this just one of multitudes of ways that we learn. "What if ..." is usually a good way to present the case. It invites sharing the responsibility of a direct response. That particular method of inviting exchange can go to unusual places and you will learn what you needed to know, if you didn't already, at the least you will have confirmed your original observations.
Maybe if ... we had not already put aside false desires such as hope and belief, and lived so hard on the barren plain of the human condition, crushed by repeated falls into the stairwells of life's basement long enough to recognize the pattern and its mocking roots of Wetiko wet nurses and Wetiko religious dogma, maybe we would want to ask who started what and why. Oh, forget the "why." Moreover, forget the "who" also. Who cares? "What" is what we learn, "how" is the core. And running through the heart, pole to pole, is the arrow of evil, the Yang. In the early chapters of Arab Spring, I suggested sovereign leaders were being rotated in a manner more beneficial to Big Mo. I think all of our questions are being answered with each passing event. Especially the part about sovereign which in the language of the World X OS upgrade translates to colonial.
If we apply what we learn to another situation we might say "What if ... what if the design is inextricably in place, all that is left is more bloodletting and the good old highway robbery under the cover of darkness and freight trains, forever underwater at the company store? One of billions wet-faced in the rain racing for shelter, to the tents and migrant motels? What if ... we die and are exploited further in death by past-their-prime degenerates playing their last card last off your back? Addicts never change. They can clean up, briefly, but its always calling. You bet they are hustling again, they are in a pact from the grave. The candidates are competing with the false flags. Every time, throughout all of human existence, when they start up that shuck and jive, it is the sound of hellfire and fury heralding in another notch on the ancient Totem of history. In fact, there was another heated display of cravings just today as the Iran drumbeat drifted across the prairies with the Cartels as back-up chorus. Of course, its not doing well on the charts, its rather worthless until they can use it in conjunction with the Times Square dude and the panties on the plane mule.
What success are we seeking? We are seeking peace of mind and to be left alone to pursue our authentic interests, so many of which are denied for all the wrong reasons regardless of geography. We seek universal love and compassion, genuine peace on Earth and recognition of every living thing on the Living Planet as family. These few things are not universally sought, you know that much by now no matter what station you may be waiting in during this journey, but be comforted - you are not alone.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Interruptions During a Cage Match
Anyone still confused at this late stage? On a personal level, as metaphor, we live our lives in a series of situations, for the most part, floating through the days and hours as if there is no ending. There are always things to do and be done, the incredible variety of living species in our situations that require attention, and often there are little jams to be unraveled, which we unravel and continue on with our journeys. In other words, we're coping, as best we know how at any given time ... until something like these times comes into focus and digs its way into our minds as a bad cloud. No matter what happens, the bad cloud is carried within. Every now and then it rolls itself into a hurricane or tornado and whatever else is going on within has to take a back seat. Lately we've found ourselves unwittingly embroiled in bullying bs boiling over in the very kitchens of the bad cloud's panic promotional. Ages ago I put up a line from the original film Wall Street where Bud Fox's Dad says to him "A man lives long enough, he sees everything."
And yet, what we are seeing is part and parcel of events that have been years in the making. As we grew up, there were plenty of signs and omens, generally misinterpreted as if such "very fine people" couldn't possibly be behind the growing evil. Here's one thing I know, which I learned early. Very fine people do not wear white ties. Tacky, tacky, tacky. You can imagine my utter dismay every time one of these very fine people makes some televised, i.e.; visual, statement about anything going on in the bad cloud and how really, really, its a good cloud, while adorned in absolutely fatal fashion statements. You may think I am kidding, but I am serious. Only factual, dyed-in-the-wool handmaidens to the Devil himself, slimeball Mobsters wear white ties, or pink, or yellow or anything bordering on pastels. Have you ever looked at those ties on camera? Dancing pixels sending bizarre rays into your pupils. You will note, they appear to possess a dress code as well as common purpose among them. Their fawning grocery clerks, errand boys/girls and celebrity punditry adopt all of it to better drive home the Mission. Personally, I got out of that car a long time ago. I'm not sure exactly what it was, it might have been the pastel neck-wear. it might have been the always misfit trying to fit in all the wrong places with all the wrong people. It might have been a particular hallucination where peaking, suddenly everyone grew very small, something like looking through a telescope backwards, crystal clear, everything was the same so I perceived, except the amazingly sharp reduction of everyone and everything within view. I might not have come back from that had it not been for a rescue to another artist's hideaway except he was one of these artists who liked to grind a subject into its abstract which can be done if you work at it long enough, a stage which he had not yet reached still being a literalist making O's in primaries. His studio aka free room in the squatter's commune was painted with every color and size circle the way you'd roll whole walls and ceiling in soft white, right down to the floor, the fabrics, the fireplace and so on. My problem was they were all spinning like wild crayola cheerios blown from a cannon which created a kind of whirling nausea and yearning for the outdoors, for something real, Nature and its comfort which eventually I found crawling downstairs, to the door, to freedom in the anonymity of city streets, one foot and the next until I led myself to green pastures lying down with wildflowers in the meadow watching clouds move, meet and move again, they were good clouds. I looked sideways long enough to see friends join in. It seemed we lay there centuries. We might have.
I'm still not sure of any tipping point where it all gelled. Not a day, lately an hour, passes without some intrusive nonsense like the "jobless recovery". As much as I would love to be done with it, it smarts. While today we might find we are not affected, surely tomorrow we will be? We have all been affected, perhaps not all at one time, but we would not allow bad clouds the opportunity to linger, even distantly, if we were not personally familiar with the extremes of pain they are capable of producing. We remember a moment in time, we have memories of disaster, we have had our hopes and expectations dashed to smithereens, we have lost loved ones, we have seen others lose everything and lost too much ourselves along the way. We believe in redemption, we trust in resurrection even without visual confirmation we have confidence in the goodness of living, that it is holy, that life itself is holy and that interior perfection of every living being is all the proof necessary and nothing can take that perfection away.
Do yourself a huge favor and read these links, if you have not already, in any order, order hardly matters, although I realize I have implied some order, it won't take up all that much of your time since you are already online reading, here are a few things to absorb that should stick, I know, so little sticks anymore, but give it a try:
From Mick:
The Handbook of Human Ownership for New Tax Farmers
From Vivek:
Hey America ...
From James Kunstler's CN comments:
The Great Global Debt Depression: Its All Greek to Me
From Paul Craig Roberts:
An Economy Destroyed
Done yet? Go and finish them now, at least one of them, I'm not going anywhere and I know the last two are particularly lengthy, but important! If you get fidgety, a typically addicted to convenience and/or chaos-driven western citizens' trait, just read the last one first (backwards is a great way to go since front is back and back is front now) all the way through and return later as you carve out space in your offline Word calendar for sincere acknowledgement of self through definition of the Apocalyptic experience in which we all share, like it or not ... or just make a Sticky Note for your monitor.
Let's get down to business
It seems that the deficit ceiling is replacing the Casey Anthony trial, with Cantor and Boner vs. our leader. Have you ever seen Grown Men behave in this way? And these are our representatives of the peeps. Hey, put 'em in a cage match for cryin' out loud and leave us out of it. If you knew these people in real life, as neighbors or a clique at the local swimming pool, would you have ANYthing to do with them? Who uses Vitalis anymore? As usual, we are forced to ask, what else is going on that we're not hearing about. And suddenly, practically written on the wind, Norway! Last check the death toll is under one hundred, but the figure is growing and will likely be higher by sigh, tomorrow. And speaking of Wetiko wickedness, could care-less-ness, those freak outbursts I mentioned last posting and a few posts before that, are on the increase. The ignorant on the ground, probably illiterate too, due to the fact all of this "toxic waste" is widely available through every expanding format of shining electronic delivery, are bursting loose from the jobless recovery to imitate the very activities dreamed up by "very fine people". Things come and go at breakneck speed, each dive surpassing former dives into deeper and deeper, never before unexplored depths of the raging cesspool of evil. Everything about them flys red flags and nothing happens. They can wear GO OLIGARCHY tie tacks on their pale gold ties and nothing happens. They can publicly scorn each other mere inches away from hand to hand combat with lies and denials and ... nothing happens.
Way down below in the secret cache of an overstressed, oversized, over-produced population where mostly everything has gotten completely out of control because people no longer want to know what is happening around them since their entire lives have become Adventures in Narcissism 24/7, there are horrors and very difficult to describe drastic abuses of the innocent and unaware surfacing for a few hours, a day or two, before the deficit ceiling cage match blows them off the platform. Weird things like the Leiby Kletzy tragedy and the Coronado mansion double murder. When the celebrity pundit reads the teleprompter saying "Why Norway?" do you grimace at her sheer idiocy or weep for the Libyans who on another planet, one with good clouds, would be filling the bellies of the Somalis instead of under hijack at the crazed insistence of the followers of economic nirvana which is not a resilient or even remotely sustainable system... as we are reminded this week after thinking about the far reaching implications in the Archdruid's excellent essay. Even Libya has vanished from the news as if its another ho hum long term occupation in the making and we're to just go shopping or something. Its always unnerving how quickly we have these things analyzed for us since we are too dumbed down now to read the blood on the wall. How long did it take Bush to declare Bin Laden did it? How long did it take CNN to read their prepared statement claiming the little potty or the base is responsible for Norway's attacks? Fifteen minutes? An hour? And, gosh, we haven't even touched on the highly contagious cell hacking disease spreading paranoia and opening wallets across the pond, its not necessary my friends, is it. My only question while admitting I aspire to know nothing because I can't stand to know, its too disgusting, is: Where's the forensics on the guy who lay dead in the portapotty for twelve hours? In't this one like the Coronado mistress found bound and hung from a backyard balcony, in that suicide is often disguised to appear as homicide, they say. Or is that homicide is often disguised to appear as suicide? Gimme a break! We are looking at updated Wellstonings, stories for the stupid, damaged cells dividing and multiplying, exacerbating, exaggerating initial damage.
So I'm with Mick and Vivek. You will have some feelings about those links and I request we stay on subject for this post, if possible, and share them in the comments, again, if possible. If you have something else you have to say, of course that is always welcome, but for this post and those links, we'll need to talk. I've held off publishing them until now because the ubiquitous crescendo of the greedy oligarchs wrapping around the globe and destroying all life on Earth cannot be ignored or denied anymore. I should add that all the evils noted above are taking place as the Earth crumbles in anthropogenic climate chaos which must be something like living it up in an inescapable gated seaside community next door to six nuclear power plants, six months before a super quake and tsunami. In other words, its getting dangerous out there.
You do understand, don't you, its not going away. It only grows, like all living species subject to the variations of Malthusian prophecy, build it and they will come, and keep coming and coming on, until ...
On that dire precipice which appears to have no possible live landing in sight, I leave you with the best line from Vanilla Sky - "Every passing minute is a chance to turn it all around."
Within us is that power.
And yet, what we are seeing is part and parcel of events that have been years in the making. As we grew up, there were plenty of signs and omens, generally misinterpreted as if such "very fine people" couldn't possibly be behind the growing evil. Here's one thing I know, which I learned early. Very fine people do not wear white ties. Tacky, tacky, tacky. You can imagine my utter dismay every time one of these very fine people makes some televised, i.e.; visual, statement about anything going on in the bad cloud and how really, really, its a good cloud, while adorned in absolutely fatal fashion statements. You may think I am kidding, but I am serious. Only factual, dyed-in-the-wool handmaidens to the Devil himself, slimeball Mobsters wear white ties, or pink, or yellow or anything bordering on pastels. Have you ever looked at those ties on camera? Dancing pixels sending bizarre rays into your pupils. You will note, they appear to possess a dress code as well as common purpose among them. Their fawning grocery clerks, errand boys/girls and celebrity punditry adopt all of it to better drive home the Mission. Personally, I got out of that car a long time ago. I'm not sure exactly what it was, it might have been the pastel neck-wear. it might have been the always misfit trying to fit in all the wrong places with all the wrong people. It might have been a particular hallucination where peaking, suddenly everyone grew very small, something like looking through a telescope backwards, crystal clear, everything was the same so I perceived, except the amazingly sharp reduction of everyone and everything within view. I might not have come back from that had it not been for a rescue to another artist's hideaway except he was one of these artists who liked to grind a subject into its abstract which can be done if you work at it long enough, a stage which he had not yet reached still being a literalist making O's in primaries. His studio aka free room in the squatter's commune was painted with every color and size circle the way you'd roll whole walls and ceiling in soft white, right down to the floor, the fabrics, the fireplace and so on. My problem was they were all spinning like wild crayola cheerios blown from a cannon which created a kind of whirling nausea and yearning for the outdoors, for something real, Nature and its comfort which eventually I found crawling downstairs, to the door, to freedom in the anonymity of city streets, one foot and the next until I led myself to green pastures lying down with wildflowers in the meadow watching clouds move, meet and move again, they were good clouds. I looked sideways long enough to see friends join in. It seemed we lay there centuries. We might have.
I'm still not sure of any tipping point where it all gelled. Not a day, lately an hour, passes without some intrusive nonsense like the "jobless recovery". As much as I would love to be done with it, it smarts. While today we might find we are not affected, surely tomorrow we will be? We have all been affected, perhaps not all at one time, but we would not allow bad clouds the opportunity to linger, even distantly, if we were not personally familiar with the extremes of pain they are capable of producing. We remember a moment in time, we have memories of disaster, we have had our hopes and expectations dashed to smithereens, we have lost loved ones, we have seen others lose everything and lost too much ourselves along the way. We believe in redemption, we trust in resurrection even without visual confirmation we have confidence in the goodness of living, that it is holy, that life itself is holy and that interior perfection of every living being is all the proof necessary and nothing can take that perfection away.
Do yourself a huge favor and read these links, if you have not already, in any order, order hardly matters, although I realize I have implied some order, it won't take up all that much of your time since you are already online reading, here are a few things to absorb that should stick, I know, so little sticks anymore, but give it a try:
From Mick:
The Handbook of Human Ownership for New Tax Farmers
From Vivek:
Hey America ...
From James Kunstler's CN comments:
The Great Global Debt Depression: Its All Greek to Me
From Paul Craig Roberts:
An Economy Destroyed
Done yet? Go and finish them now, at least one of them, I'm not going anywhere and I know the last two are particularly lengthy, but important! If you get fidgety, a typically addicted to convenience and/or chaos-driven western citizens' trait, just read the last one first (backwards is a great way to go since front is back and back is front now) all the way through and return later as you carve out space in your offline Word calendar for sincere acknowledgement of self through definition of the Apocalyptic experience in which we all share, like it or not ... or just make a Sticky Note for your monitor.
Let's get down to business
It seems that the deficit ceiling is replacing the Casey Anthony trial, with Cantor and Boner vs. our leader. Have you ever seen Grown Men behave in this way? And these are our representatives of the peeps. Hey, put 'em in a cage match for cryin' out loud and leave us out of it. If you knew these people in real life, as neighbors or a clique at the local swimming pool, would you have ANYthing to do with them? Who uses Vitalis anymore? As usual, we are forced to ask, what else is going on that we're not hearing about. And suddenly, practically written on the wind, Norway! Last check the death toll is under one hundred, but the figure is growing and will likely be higher by sigh, tomorrow. And speaking of Wetiko wickedness, could care-less-ness, those freak outbursts I mentioned last posting and a few posts before that, are on the increase. The ignorant on the ground, probably illiterate too, due to the fact all of this "toxic waste" is widely available through every expanding format of shining electronic delivery, are bursting loose from the jobless recovery to imitate the very activities dreamed up by "very fine people". Things come and go at breakneck speed, each dive surpassing former dives into deeper and deeper, never before unexplored depths of the raging cesspool of evil. Everything about them flys red flags and nothing happens. They can wear GO OLIGARCHY tie tacks on their pale gold ties and nothing happens. They can publicly scorn each other mere inches away from hand to hand combat with lies and denials and ... nothing happens.
Way down below in the secret cache of an overstressed, oversized, over-produced population where mostly everything has gotten completely out of control because people no longer want to know what is happening around them since their entire lives have become Adventures in Narcissism 24/7, there are horrors and very difficult to describe drastic abuses of the innocent and unaware surfacing for a few hours, a day or two, before the deficit ceiling cage match blows them off the platform. Weird things like the Leiby Kletzy tragedy and the Coronado mansion double murder. When the celebrity pundit reads the teleprompter saying "Why Norway?" do you grimace at her sheer idiocy or weep for the Libyans who on another planet, one with good clouds, would be filling the bellies of the Somalis instead of under hijack at the crazed insistence of the followers of economic nirvana which is not a resilient or even remotely sustainable system... as we are reminded this week after thinking about the far reaching implications in the Archdruid's excellent essay. Even Libya has vanished from the news as if its another ho hum long term occupation in the making and we're to just go shopping or something. Its always unnerving how quickly we have these things analyzed for us since we are too dumbed down now to read the blood on the wall. How long did it take Bush to declare Bin Laden did it? How long did it take CNN to read their prepared statement claiming the little potty or the base is responsible for Norway's attacks? Fifteen minutes? An hour? And, gosh, we haven't even touched on the highly contagious cell hacking disease spreading paranoia and opening wallets across the pond, its not necessary my friends, is it. My only question while admitting I aspire to know nothing because I can't stand to know, its too disgusting, is: Where's the forensics on the guy who lay dead in the portapotty for twelve hours? In't this one like the Coronado mistress found bound and hung from a backyard balcony, in that suicide is often disguised to appear as homicide, they say. Or is that homicide is often disguised to appear as suicide? Gimme a break! We are looking at updated Wellstonings, stories for the stupid, damaged cells dividing and multiplying, exacerbating, exaggerating initial damage.
So I'm with Mick and Vivek. You will have some feelings about those links and I request we stay on subject for this post, if possible, and share them in the comments, again, if possible. If you have something else you have to say, of course that is always welcome, but for this post and those links, we'll need to talk. I've held off publishing them until now because the ubiquitous crescendo of the greedy oligarchs wrapping around the globe and destroying all life on Earth cannot be ignored or denied anymore. I should add that all the evils noted above are taking place as the Earth crumbles in anthropogenic climate chaos which must be something like living it up in an inescapable gated seaside community next door to six nuclear power plants, six months before a super quake and tsunami. In other words, its getting dangerous out there.
You do understand, don't you, its not going away. It only grows, like all living species subject to the variations of Malthusian prophecy, build it and they will come, and keep coming and coming on, until ...
On that dire precipice which appears to have no possible live landing in sight, I leave you with the best line from Vanilla Sky - "Every passing minute is a chance to turn it all around."
Within us is that power.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Two worlds ... One love
Anybody can be the bad guy. The gene exists in all of us, the trick is to remain aware of your surroundings and the people with whom you are dealing. Check yourself and live up to the spirituality you profess to possess. Keep giving and when that doesn't go over, give more. There is no limit to your love and how much you can spare. The multiples of recent events in human behavior show us how completely love is rejected because that part, the most perfect part of mankind, is ruthlessly promoted as terror meaning terrifying to the perpetrators and the terrifying consequences lying in wait for their victims. One day, you're ridin' high in the saddle, it appears as if all is under your control and nothing will ever happen to upend that picture, the next, you can find yourself homeless or incarcerated, lost in the maze of just-us, wondering what happened. As the years pass in your new state, since you lately have hours and months, whole seasons, even years to spend looking into the situation, the answer will come and it was probably as forgivable as a brief gap in your awareness of presence.
In the new world we now occupy, mostly as unwilling witness, its always about the money, which is what Lucifer is to Jehovah. And while the money pits grow higher, the fear of loss of fortune grows in parallel like a fungus on an Oak limb, at some point, in the carelessness of riding so high, loss is inevitable. This leaves open the question of where all that money goes. At last look, it isn't going into anything related to love. The money, which was the point all along, is far more than currency. It is position, power, influence, the ability to create and destroy at will and all the people who haven't figured that out, who like to think its about gross materialism, have no clue. Money is the greatest and most deadly weapon of mass destruction known to the Universe. Money's first and last priority is to destroy love and it is extremely successful in its endeavors to do so.
For many of us reading here, these were foreign thoughts not too long ago. We led our innocent lives unaware Lucifer was on track to take over humanity. As you now know there is no palm left ungreased, eight lane parades of grasping fingers await our every action or non-action and there is nothing to be done about it except remove yourself from the insanity even if means you failed in your attempt to give. Money is almost impossible to move. It is granite, without emotional content other than fear and false desire, there are many people and places that will never see it our way and we have to accept that. But that in no way means we stop giving. Not until fortunes are lost repeatedly does one begin any sort of healing process and there is no guarantee the healing process will be seen through to its fruition. That is just another part of possessing too much of it, the memory will press many into corrupting compromise which will strain credulity to the breaking point. In time, healing comes and it may not come until catastrophe brings it around. At least you will have left the peace of your person behind when an example is required which is all the more reason to give more, love more, wherever the opportunity exists.
We cannot forget the picture of the stunned Japanese official weeping because he'd shown more respect to his working life than to his lost loved ones.
We live in two worlds, two zeitgeists simultaneously, that of the illusion and that of our own. Every single day the illusion projects its force upon us and every single day we reconcile the damage done while living in love. This is why there is nothing to be done about it, it is with us by design and to be overcome in this lifetime. It appears that the most evil of our species has the capacity to overcome, but until their own personal moment of reconciliation presents itself, you will have no impact. Love and compassion can be nurtured in children, but adults are too hardened to the punishments created by the illusion's perception of love as immaterial and foolish bordering on amusing but stupid. We are incessantly pushed to join up with behaviors we would never naturally agree. The illusion has managed to billow out over our species to steal our sweat labor and destroy our minds. It dangles lies in our faces and tempts with come-ons which are mere water on a duck's back for the true believer. These two worlds cannot possibly meet in the present. Protests are met with violence, sudden legal entanglements which place you directly in the center of their microscope where anything you cherished is taken and divided among themselves while you try to meditate in solitary confinement. You do understand, this is no "game". The illusion takes itself very seriously and yet, I am reminded of Fyodor Dostoevsky who wrote circa 1880, that there would be no need for a justice system if everyone believed in God.
I take that to mean the God within who prevents us from criminal behavior and keeps us living in love, giving and caring, this God lives in everyone naturally if they allow it. But a system of flexible do's and don't's backed up with bloodletting, violence, massive destruction and evil incarnate is a masterful generator of wealth, power and influence and was developed over the centuries by madmen and women of monarchy obligated only to the empire of religious dogma, some of them very ill, mentally unstable, paranoid, inbreds, whose behaviors were emulated by the weak-willed acquiescent having lost any sense of reality through close proximity to treasure. And the world of the illusion grew legs and arms and fangs.
What they missed and miss still is incalculable. The loss is a loss difficult to encompass in its totality unless you can feel compassion for their misery in spite of all the damage done and to come. First, you have to wipe clean your hearts and minds of revenge for revenge (just-us) is not a natural state of being. Accept the powerlessness of the situation and know your power within is infinite. Even if you think its not there, it is there because you thought about it.
Take every chance that comes your way to involve yourself with our world. Recently I commented about the sheep escapes and poor ewe Bella, new mom, getting her head caught in the wire fencing. She'd worked through one of the openings, stretching the wire around her neck to get grass beyond the pen and was stuck, bellowing in pain. I realized in the emergency no one else was around or would be for many hours. There was no choice, no thought, but to pull apart the wire with my fingers and squeeze her back inside. And it worked. Whew! She was very grateful, following me around, letting me know how good she felt someone was there to help. I massaged her neck for a good while and chatted about her foible, but the truth was I felt good too. I was grateful to her, for her trust in what I was doing, at some points during the rescue I know my fingers made the noose feel even tighter, but all turned out well which leads me to the next event.
It was announced the pen would be moving across the wash back up on the hill. I made it known any fence work would require my presence since I was the expert now in group safety. The next day I worked my freekin' ass off like never before, taking down the posts, baling the wire, hiking it all across the Amazon Jungle-style wash (deep, winding rainwater trench, high potential for rattlers) and up the hill, surveying the new parameters, slamming the post pounder and securing the wire to the posts with a needlenose. The amazing part was keeping Amos the Ram separated from the females, not an easy feat since I've nicknamed him Buffalo. Right away, Laurie put up a temporary gated holding pen, a "catch pen", which we used to divide them, the gate led to the pasture, which Amos was baited into.
In jackets, on a chilly spring day, with my friend who has a Master's in Ag Science which means I had an amazing running commentary on the keeping of livestock. (Did you know that sheep have four stomach chambers and that is why you will never see one lying on its side? When they sit, its always up, like the Sphinx.) So there we were, two human ewes, two days living in the best part of the history of humanity. It felt so good. The sheep eat the long grasses which is fire fuel, if you don't mow, get some grazers whom you will nurture and they will give you back your life or if you think you never had one, show you what life is really all about in more ways than I have space to list here.
In the new world we now occupy, mostly as unwilling witness, its always about the money, which is what Lucifer is to Jehovah. And while the money pits grow higher, the fear of loss of fortune grows in parallel like a fungus on an Oak limb, at some point, in the carelessness of riding so high, loss is inevitable. This leaves open the question of where all that money goes. At last look, it isn't going into anything related to love. The money, which was the point all along, is far more than currency. It is position, power, influence, the ability to create and destroy at will and all the people who haven't figured that out, who like to think its about gross materialism, have no clue. Money is the greatest and most deadly weapon of mass destruction known to the Universe. Money's first and last priority is to destroy love and it is extremely successful in its endeavors to do so.
For many of us reading here, these were foreign thoughts not too long ago. We led our innocent lives unaware Lucifer was on track to take over humanity. As you now know there is no palm left ungreased, eight lane parades of grasping fingers await our every action or non-action and there is nothing to be done about it except remove yourself from the insanity even if means you failed in your attempt to give. Money is almost impossible to move. It is granite, without emotional content other than fear and false desire, there are many people and places that will never see it our way and we have to accept that. But that in no way means we stop giving. Not until fortunes are lost repeatedly does one begin any sort of healing process and there is no guarantee the healing process will be seen through to its fruition. That is just another part of possessing too much of it, the memory will press many into corrupting compromise which will strain credulity to the breaking point. In time, healing comes and it may not come until catastrophe brings it around. At least you will have left the peace of your person behind when an example is required which is all the more reason to give more, love more, wherever the opportunity exists.
We cannot forget the picture of the stunned Japanese official weeping because he'd shown more respect to his working life than to his lost loved ones.
We live in two worlds, two zeitgeists simultaneously, that of the illusion and that of our own. Every single day the illusion projects its force upon us and every single day we reconcile the damage done while living in love. This is why there is nothing to be done about it, it is with us by design and to be overcome in this lifetime. It appears that the most evil of our species has the capacity to overcome, but until their own personal moment of reconciliation presents itself, you will have no impact. Love and compassion can be nurtured in children, but adults are too hardened to the punishments created by the illusion's perception of love as immaterial and foolish bordering on amusing but stupid. We are incessantly pushed to join up with behaviors we would never naturally agree. The illusion has managed to billow out over our species to steal our sweat labor and destroy our minds. It dangles lies in our faces and tempts with come-ons which are mere water on a duck's back for the true believer. These two worlds cannot possibly meet in the present. Protests are met with violence, sudden legal entanglements which place you directly in the center of their microscope where anything you cherished is taken and divided among themselves while you try to meditate in solitary confinement. You do understand, this is no "game". The illusion takes itself very seriously and yet, I am reminded of Fyodor Dostoevsky who wrote circa 1880, that there would be no need for a justice system if everyone believed in God.
I take that to mean the God within who prevents us from criminal behavior and keeps us living in love, giving and caring, this God lives in everyone naturally if they allow it. But a system of flexible do's and don't's backed up with bloodletting, violence, massive destruction and evil incarnate is a masterful generator of wealth, power and influence and was developed over the centuries by madmen and women of monarchy obligated only to the empire of religious dogma, some of them very ill, mentally unstable, paranoid, inbreds, whose behaviors were emulated by the weak-willed acquiescent having lost any sense of reality through close proximity to treasure. And the world of the illusion grew legs and arms and fangs.
What they missed and miss still is incalculable. The loss is a loss difficult to encompass in its totality unless you can feel compassion for their misery in spite of all the damage done and to come. First, you have to wipe clean your hearts and minds of revenge for revenge (just-us) is not a natural state of being. Accept the powerlessness of the situation and know your power within is infinite. Even if you think its not there, it is there because you thought about it.
 |
| this wire fencing |
 |
| Buffalo in wool |
In jackets, on a chilly spring day, with my friend who has a Master's in Ag Science which means I had an amazing running commentary on the keeping of livestock. (Did you know that sheep have four stomach chambers and that is why you will never see one lying on its side? When they sit, its always up, like the Sphinx.) So there we were, two human ewes, two days living in the best part of the history of humanity. It felt so good. The sheep eat the long grasses which is fire fuel, if you don't mow, get some grazers whom you will nurture and they will give you back your life or if you think you never had one, show you what life is really all about in more ways than I have space to list here.
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
the carpet too, is moving under you
...You must leave now
Take what you need you think will last
But whatever you wish to keep
You better grab it fast...
Bob Dylan
According to recent weather updates, from the extreme eastern regions of So-Cal, up and across the Southwest and throughout the Great Plains region, ballooning north, south and east, on into whiny Manhattan and the Great North beyond, a two by four is attempting to awaken the slackers. I say whiny Manhattan because only in Overpopulation would New Yorkers be moved to speak up about their streets. (Ever tried to cab cross-town midday?) It used to be that losing one's vehicle in the snow was so freekin' normal you just got down to business and found the right lump. Personally, I enjoy those kinds of activities. They're sort of mysterious and compelling, a game you usually win, the somewhat slim chance of loss drives you to win. Its not addicting, it is the rarity, not your every day miracle, although to car thieves and the underground parts industry, heavy snow, mass disaster in general, is miraculous opportunity.
We who still have functioning electrical power know already how weather is poised to be Egypt's alternate story. So many questions, so much hurt, too many people, no solutions. Of course, there are big solutions available, but after all these long years of hearing about peace and stability, ever ask yourself what that really means? It means free and unfettered reach to do as one pleases. It means purchasing a situation where the world's populations silently turn over every resource the energy whales require without uttering the slightest dissent which is impossible given human nature. You cannot remove the small portion of Earth upon which a man stands without him falling down. You cannot take away his right to stand up and yet this is what is going on wherever a foothold can be bought. Once again the markets rear up in defiance, Moody's downgraded Egypt and the markets were shut down hoping to quell the flight of liquidity which will only worsen when they reopen. This is how the world works and their last hope at that unfettered free reach. It works sometimes, in some already barren, beaten down places because people need to eat, but considering the unrest in Egypt was called for by a 28 year-old girl using Facebook, the youth of this planet is about to put a stop to all the whipping humans experience worldwide simply trying to survive. Jah praise the yout.
Enough of that. Inevitable is inevitable. Anyone reading this far is prepared to think on their feet, right? Don't let me be a downer, but the fantasy is never the reality. And no doubt a part of you was positive you were exempt. No little person is exempt, you should know that by now. There is no WHO fanfare concerning this disease, no Rumsfeld vaccine, not now when everybody is wiping the sleep from their eyes. They may not yet have the details in order and maybe they will never see the whole picture, but people naturally question and wonder - how it ever got to be this way. It is due to the selective bulletins, the omissions, the twisting of evil into the language of altruism, that chemtrails are suspect as well. And now HAARP. When was the last time anyone revealed what's up on Diego Garcia? On days like this, after hearing Hoseme try to see out his term by watered-down compromise, everything is up for question. The disease is collectively so much farther along than you or I could possibly imagine. These are people from another parallel having invaded ours and now insist on sticking around and driving humanity into oblivion. They wrecked their original parallel with this behavior, no lessons were learned, that mindset is unable to perceive lessons. They exist to destruct. They are completely immune to pain or suffering. They look human, but that's just a trick of blending into our parallel to better spread their psychosis. You might say this is nonsense, but what is happening throughout the world is equally as nonsensical. In order to understand, you have to forget everything you ever thought previously and get weird. Nothing logical is logical anymore. Every road a cul de sac, a detour looping from nowhere to nowhere.
I don't want to waste our time talking about them. It gets too heavy, too distracting, too quickly, it will kill you if you allow it to through mere overload of evil costuming itself in western dress, pearls and Jane Harmon's platinum frosted do. When you are dragged to the doctor no one will believe what happened, blaming your condition on your shabby lifestyle and lack of mandated health insurance. Never mind you were occupied by force far away from any choice on your own where you cried out for assistance time and again and no one in a position to help ever heard a peep. In fact, your peeps were stifled intentionally for statistical charting purposes. You existed nowhere on any chart published by any entity, without apology you do not count because if you did you might be heard and they can't have that. I do not expect lasting change for the Egyptian people or for anyone actually. Humanity is up against too many stacked decks and shifty characters pulling out all the stops. There is no such thing as a half win. The people standing up have our admiration and our support, the problem is too many things have to happen before there will ever be a genuinely united win, we are not the deciders of fate at this moment, the deciders are still casting fate. Just how much casting takes place is revealed more literally by the hour. Financial weapons of mass destruction are the first and last resort in deciding fate and will not give up, hardened as they are, just as the truth behind that 2001 moment of reckoning will never be brought to light. Its all related, one action leads to another and ripples out into the atmosphere poisoning survival of the species. Were we born into this world only to die correcting it? If you are passionate about your life experience, that may well answer the question of life itself. Why are we here, now? We could have been reincarnated into any previous or future time and would we find the same situations, patterns, repeating as cells split, multiply and split again? Is it all merely science? If it doesn't work out in Egypt, where will it work out? And what will it take? I realize we greatly credit Orwell already with wisdom and vision beyond the typical mind, but likely he saw this day coming in a way few, if any, have ever willingly put to paper. It is unusual no religions have sprung up around his insights, perhaps because it isn't exactly lucrative, although Orwell's observations came to pass while a so-called civilized world went along with it, willingly, even greedily, begging for more. Apparently no one wants to create a magachurch dedicated to the police state although it still could happen, if, and that's a big IF, there were time for it to happen. At some point, climate chaos takes over and all the plans of the Wetikos will be buried under the scramble.
Allow me to briefly move away from the horrors and misery imprisoning little people everywhere. The Mustang princess Stella, is back from boarding during those climate chaos rains that muddied up her apartment. They plaited her mane She's grown the most amazing winter coat, its fur. Imagine chestnut fur with her blond mane and two white diamonds on her forehead. I'm going to be the official photographer when she goes into labor. Yes, of course, I will post the best ones. Chip, the Appy, went to a relative's farm which is very cool, his old stomping grounds. It seems with animals especially, we have to recognize that we will miss them, but love is wanting the best for them.
Gosh, I almost got away from the Wetikos there. I'd so rather involve myself into what's happening with the animals. Its the animals' non-verbal communication and their appearance, its spare, its exactly functional for exactly what each animal requires and no more, no shoe fetishes, no preening in the zeitgeist pyramid, its a lifetime of come-as-you-are. Now to get back to the dark side ... oh, let's not. Its an important move to dedicate some portion of your day to your animal family including livestock. Take them herbivore/grazer treats, hays, carrots and apples. Never doubt your friendship. Be as affectionate as possible. Just like any friendship, go slow and see how it develops. This can all be simplified by just saying use your manners. If you don't have manners, I can't help you. I probably could, but I wouldn't want to.
Between the the catastrophes of climate change and Egypt, that should be enough, but its obviously not. It never is now. This is real, my friends. Multiples of happenings growing towards some distant, final crescendo. I don't know about you, but I grab the good stuff where I can. If there is something beautiful taking my full attention, so be it. We are typing on varying sizes and styles of little boxes that can give us any detail of anything we'd ever want to know, anywhere, what is far more fascinating and real exists outside, offline. Kindle that. In your life, are there not moments of clarity every now and then in which you see yourself? There is no technology, at least not yet - which means never, that can bring that around. Wherever there is revolution, the people in revolt have gone deep within themselves, each one of them, to recover spiritually for without awareness there is nothing.
Take what you need you think will last
But whatever you wish to keep
You better grab it fast...
Bob Dylan
According to recent weather updates, from the extreme eastern regions of So-Cal, up and across the Southwest and throughout the Great Plains region, ballooning north, south and east, on into whiny Manhattan and the Great North beyond, a two by four is attempting to awaken the slackers. I say whiny Manhattan because only in Overpopulation would New Yorkers be moved to speak up about their streets. (Ever tried to cab cross-town midday?) It used to be that losing one's vehicle in the snow was so freekin' normal you just got down to business and found the right lump. Personally, I enjoy those kinds of activities. They're sort of mysterious and compelling, a game you usually win, the somewhat slim chance of loss drives you to win. Its not addicting, it is the rarity, not your every day miracle, although to car thieves and the underground parts industry, heavy snow, mass disaster in general, is miraculous opportunity.
We who still have functioning electrical power know already how weather is poised to be Egypt's alternate story. So many questions, so much hurt, too many people, no solutions. Of course, there are big solutions available, but after all these long years of hearing about peace and stability, ever ask yourself what that really means? It means free and unfettered reach to do as one pleases. It means purchasing a situation where the world's populations silently turn over every resource the energy whales require without uttering the slightest dissent which is impossible given human nature. You cannot remove the small portion of Earth upon which a man stands without him falling down. You cannot take away his right to stand up and yet this is what is going on wherever a foothold can be bought. Once again the markets rear up in defiance, Moody's downgraded Egypt and the markets were shut down hoping to quell the flight of liquidity which will only worsen when they reopen. This is how the world works and their last hope at that unfettered free reach. It works sometimes, in some already barren, beaten down places because people need to eat, but considering the unrest in Egypt was called for by a 28 year-old girl using Facebook, the youth of this planet is about to put a stop to all the whipping humans experience worldwide simply trying to survive. Jah praise the yout.
... Egypt and the country's military have grown accustomed to American support and will want the money to keep flowing. It is the flow of this money that ensures the purchase of the replacement government. Because the US dollar is the world reserve currency, the US government has financial dominance and the ability to financially isolate other countries ... Paul Craig Roberts
Enough of that. Inevitable is inevitable. Anyone reading this far is prepared to think on their feet, right? Don't let me be a downer, but the fantasy is never the reality. And no doubt a part of you was positive you were exempt. No little person is exempt, you should know that by now. There is no WHO fanfare concerning this disease, no Rumsfeld vaccine, not now when everybody is wiping the sleep from their eyes. They may not yet have the details in order and maybe they will never see the whole picture, but people naturally question and wonder - how it ever got to be this way. It is due to the selective bulletins, the omissions, the twisting of evil into the language of altruism, that chemtrails are suspect as well. And now HAARP. When was the last time anyone revealed what's up on Diego Garcia? On days like this, after hearing Hoseme try to see out his term by watered-down compromise, everything is up for question. The disease is collectively so much farther along than you or I could possibly imagine. These are people from another parallel having invaded ours and now insist on sticking around and driving humanity into oblivion. They wrecked their original parallel with this behavior, no lessons were learned, that mindset is unable to perceive lessons. They exist to destruct. They are completely immune to pain or suffering. They look human, but that's just a trick of blending into our parallel to better spread their psychosis. You might say this is nonsense, but what is happening throughout the world is equally as nonsensical. In order to understand, you have to forget everything you ever thought previously and get weird. Nothing logical is logical anymore. Every road a cul de sac, a detour looping from nowhere to nowhere.
I don't want to waste our time talking about them. It gets too heavy, too distracting, too quickly, it will kill you if you allow it to through mere overload of evil costuming itself in western dress, pearls and Jane Harmon's platinum frosted do. When you are dragged to the doctor no one will believe what happened, blaming your condition on your shabby lifestyle and lack of mandated health insurance. Never mind you were occupied by force far away from any choice on your own where you cried out for assistance time and again and no one in a position to help ever heard a peep. In fact, your peeps were stifled intentionally for statistical charting purposes. You existed nowhere on any chart published by any entity, without apology you do not count because if you did you might be heard and they can't have that. I do not expect lasting change for the Egyptian people or for anyone actually. Humanity is up against too many stacked decks and shifty characters pulling out all the stops. There is no such thing as a half win. The people standing up have our admiration and our support, the problem is too many things have to happen before there will ever be a genuinely united win, we are not the deciders of fate at this moment, the deciders are still casting fate. Just how much casting takes place is revealed more literally by the hour. Financial weapons of mass destruction are the first and last resort in deciding fate and will not give up, hardened as they are, just as the truth behind that 2001 moment of reckoning will never be brought to light. Its all related, one action leads to another and ripples out into the atmosphere poisoning survival of the species. Were we born into this world only to die correcting it? If you are passionate about your life experience, that may well answer the question of life itself. Why are we here, now? We could have been reincarnated into any previous or future time and would we find the same situations, patterns, repeating as cells split, multiply and split again? Is it all merely science? If it doesn't work out in Egypt, where will it work out? And what will it take? I realize we greatly credit Orwell already with wisdom and vision beyond the typical mind, but likely he saw this day coming in a way few, if any, have ever willingly put to paper. It is unusual no religions have sprung up around his insights, perhaps because it isn't exactly lucrative, although Orwell's observations came to pass while a so-called civilized world went along with it, willingly, even greedily, begging for more. Apparently no one wants to create a magachurch dedicated to the police state although it still could happen, if, and that's a big IF, there were time for it to happen. At some point, climate chaos takes over and all the plans of the Wetikos will be buried under the scramble.
Allow me to briefly move away from the horrors and misery imprisoning little people everywhere. The Mustang princess Stella, is back from boarding during those climate chaos rains that muddied up her apartment. They plaited her mane She's grown the most amazing winter coat, its fur. Imagine chestnut fur with her blond mane and two white diamonds on her forehead. I'm going to be the official photographer when she goes into labor. Yes, of course, I will post the best ones. Chip, the Appy, went to a relative's farm which is very cool, his old stomping grounds. It seems with animals especially, we have to recognize that we will miss them, but love is wanting the best for them.
Gosh, I almost got away from the Wetikos there. I'd so rather involve myself into what's happening with the animals. Its the animals' non-verbal communication and their appearance, its spare, its exactly functional for exactly what each animal requires and no more, no shoe fetishes, no preening in the zeitgeist pyramid, its a lifetime of come-as-you-are. Now to get back to the dark side ... oh, let's not. Its an important move to dedicate some portion of your day to your animal family including livestock. Take them herbivore/grazer treats, hays, carrots and apples. Never doubt your friendship. Be as affectionate as possible. Just like any friendship, go slow and see how it develops. This can all be simplified by just saying use your manners. If you don't have manners, I can't help you. I probably could, but I wouldn't want to.
Between the the catastrophes of climate change and Egypt, that should be enough, but its obviously not. It never is now. This is real, my friends. Multiples of happenings growing towards some distant, final crescendo. I don't know about you, but I grab the good stuff where I can. If there is something beautiful taking my full attention, so be it. We are typing on varying sizes and styles of little boxes that can give us any detail of anything we'd ever want to know, anywhere, what is far more fascinating and real exists outside, offline. Kindle that. In your life, are there not moments of clarity every now and then in which you see yourself? There is no technology, at least not yet - which means never, that can bring that around. Wherever there is revolution, the people in revolt have gone deep within themselves, each one of them, to recover spiritually for without awareness there is nothing.
Friday, December 17, 2010
the gift that keeps on giving
You can't always get what you want, But if you try sometimes you just might find, You just might find, You get what you need, ah yes ... The Rolling Stones
The weather in my region has been all over the charts, I'd almost expect summer next week, except snow is predicted and the temps are way down, but lush green grass carpets the canyons and fallen leaves blanket the drive and deck. Spring and autumn have come together to welcome winter, officially on the 21st of this month. Cullen would have loved these grasses and I cannot help but think of him while I'm walking Bernie when we always bagged genuine organic grass for The Little Guy. Normally, I couldn't do that until early spring, like March. Is this how its going to be from here on out? Seasons interwoven with each other, the more painful aspects of each dominating? Its getting very interesting. My latest theory on twirling chemtrails (definitely not art) is they are contracted to disperse industrial smog aka hiding the ugly secret we may be far worse off than we think ... Of course you are aware that no one denies Climate Chaos anymore unless its in the comment section of a tinseltown website appealing to IQs under 80: "Why is it so cold in global warming?" Heh.
Our beloved Scrappy Scrapwood turned me onto the following which could have been written for each of us, answering the old question of why so many Americans are self-unaware, emotionally stunted and in a near constant state of denial undertowed by sleepless anxieties. Short answer is because they are force taught the wrong thing at the wrong time, the very time they should be exploring, using their imaginations and developing their creativity. Here is some of Scrap's borrowed wisdom which he reminded me [...] its not for us, its for our children and our grandchildren:
Got that? Now, here we are in the holidays which in addition to the prototypical holiday behaviors, always brings up a few tattered memories of Christmas past. Confession: I admit to a slight sadness the one thing I really wanted I never got, realizing what I wanted I would have to give myself in my own way. As the years rolled along I did just that, but it was too late. You must begin ballet training very early, between three and five, no older than eight, if you are going to dance professionally with a successful company. All those childhood nights after school, the tears, the anguish, the cruel words and ambiance of abuse permeated the dining room homework sessions as I sweated out memorizing multiplication tables hating the deal that was my setup for failure. If I made an A+ in math I would get ballet lessons, which never happened. To see the variations of the Nutcracker now, I see what I could have been doing and am not. Instead, in art school, I supplemented my course work with dance training, I loved every minute, was a natural, made "A"s effortlessly, every time, but even then it was far too late. Don't get me wrong, art IS my raison d'etre, but it always existed alongside my other gift, the one I was denied until I could earn the means and the scholarships to do it myself.
One day helping out in the principal's office I peeked at my file. I saw my IQ score. There are nonsense rules against seeing it, if I been caught, I'd have been punished. Detentions or notes home, something ghastly and embarrassing, but the deed was done and life suddenly much improved. I suppose it was hard for my teachers to reconcile how such a child could not memorize multiplication tables, but they didn't know about the deals being made over homework when I longed with all my being to be doing arabesques and petite burrees on point. My longing obliterated the value of whatever lay before me.
The truth was, and I figured this out early too, dancers were thought of as fallen women, burlesque performers, at least as my parent's zeitgeist trained them. I must have been raised to be rich, even though we were not rich that I could see by any means, have servants, nannies for the children, spend summers sailing at a family compound, perhaps they imagined me a surgeon's wife, provided he was well educated and from a good family, mostly I think I was supposed to be off to lunch with other rich ladies and write checks to popular charities at society balls. I know a lot of women who were raised to be exactly the same thing, unconsciously transmitted to them by equally well-intentioned mothers and fathers. Sometimes we joke with one another at our mutual reversals of fortune and the myths we were born into which fell drastically apart once we were on our own, because nothing we learned in school gave us skills to deal with real life. It was as if we had been raised to do nothing while appearing to be doing something beneficial. Everything I really needed to know I've learned by the seat of my jeans.
We cannot change the past, we can only move on and make the best of what we've got. I don't blame my parents for their child rearing practices, my father abroad for months, my mother sliding down the social ladder from socialite to department store saleslady, repeatedly relocated far from anything she'd ever known, they were only operating within the sole system available in their gradually diminishing circumstances, however, the next generation and the generations following need our help right now as they enter their journey into a new world with new systems and options previously unheard of or lock into lifestyles previously demeaned. Here is another very important and helpful persuader. When you really think about the system as it exists today, anything healthy about the typical American education is being slashed from state budgets, so why even bother? I have much praise for homeschooling and even more for children who are comfortable in their own skin, free to go all the way into their areas of interest as far as they want. Is there a problem with that? The only problem is the same problem unacknowledged inside the preoccupied din of the ever-creative errand boys operating as delivery men for the gnashing beast demanding obedience.
As recessions rose and laid dormant only to reoccur, what one person once snubbed as beneath them, i.e.; not good enough, became another person's valued employment as the little people en masse are at last forced back against the wall to accept total loss as normal everyday phenomena. Conversely, what was once refined and respected is now uniformly trashed as FUBAR and vice versa: any job will do, flip burgers, push mops, greet consumers, scrub toilet stalls, who cares, everyone has to eat. The people who perform those jobs that Americans wouldn't do, deserve our sincere respect for doing them now. Thus, looking around, you'll see the revolution is already in full swing. It is also violent, but not what we were taught a violent revolution was in world history class. Now violence takes place in protests, pitted against masked Darths and their thuggish, brutal street tortures, it takes place in undeclared wars far away from our vision, it happens in the too-frequent and violent crimes discussed in my last post, the kind of crime people resort to committing when they simply explode from a lifetime of abuse via suppression, backwards and upside down to the needs of the authentic self - that real self deep inside us who reaches out unthinkingly to carry a crying baby dolphin to shore as happened in the active phase of the BP debacle. The kind of crimes that are a release from and attack against the abusive, often religious morality imposed from birth that denied whomever else it was the criminal could have been had he/she been treated with respect, insight to interest and encouragement of those interests, exemplified by the tragic fate of Shaquan Duley and her young sons:
As with everything else, if we want something to happen we have to do it ourselves. Its too late for many of us reading here, our pasts are already yesterday's tire treads petroglyphed along forgotten trails, a permanent reminder those who inhabit our future might someday find themselves travelling the same destructive paths. We can make it easier for them if homo sapiens are to survive. And should they survive, which I am not exactly confident they will, we can at least allow them to possess peace of mind and meaningful lives free of irresponsible value judgements and at all times fully aware of self-worth and skilled in the creation and stewardship required for sustaining life on Earth. If we cannot leave them material things, as used to be and still is for a certain minority, a yardstick for some kind of unearned accomplishment, we can give them a better trip. That is the only gift that matters.
Photo: Degas oil c. Google Images
Our beloved Scrappy Scrapwood turned me onto the following which could have been written for each of us, answering the old question of why so many Americans are self-unaware, emotionally stunted and in a near constant state of denial undertowed by sleepless anxieties. Short answer is because they are force taught the wrong thing at the wrong time, the very time they should be exploring, using their imaginations and developing their creativity. Here is some of Scrap's borrowed wisdom which he reminded me [...] its not for us, its for our children and our grandchildren:
From: The Wisdom of Hands Blog
Member Whole
Froebel's concept of Gliedganzes or "member-whole" was an important part of his educational philosophy. It means that a child is not merely a child but also a member of a family, a community, a state and a nation. Aristotle and Hegel both discussed the same notion, and for Froebel the idea helped to explain what he had observed in nature.
"The fundamental law of vegetable life is that each successive stage of development is a higher growth of the preceding one--e.g., the petals are transformed ordinary leaves, the stamens and pistils transformed petals. Each successive formation present the essential nature of the plant in a more subtle garb, until at last it seems clothed only in a delicate perfume."Consistent with this thought, Froebel believed that "to become conscious of self is the first business of the child and the whole business of man."
What if we as teachers, parents, guardians and promoters of wisdom and growth were to see children in their full dimensions, not as mere children, but as growing into membership of family, community, state and nation, and more? Assisting that unfolding of consciousness is the most important goal of education. The following is from Susan E. Blow who founded the first public school kindergarten in the US.
The greatest mistakes in education are rooted in the failure to recognize and conform to the different stages of natural development. Educational theorists are constantly pointing out this error; educational practice is constantly repeating it. Notwithstanding all that has been said and written, we still make knowledge our idol, and continue to fill the child's mind with foreign material, under the gratuitous assumption that at a later age he will be able, through some magic transubstantiation, to make it a vital part of his own thought. This is like loading his stomach with food which he can not digest, under the delusive hope that he may be able to digest it when he is a man. It is forcing the mind to move painfully forward under a heavy weight, instead of running, leaping and flying under the incitement of its own energy and the allurement of its own perceived ideal. The attempt to force a premature activity of reason can result only in repulsion of his sympathies and the stultification of his mind.There have been a number of articles recently about how desperately misinformed people are, how little they know about science, geography, and/or any other subject. They have a huge number of deeply held opinions about everything, nonetheless. Much of what we see in the media regarding moronic political discourse, anger toward academia and science, the calling of names like leftist and socialist, the fixation in the media with characters like balloon boy, Joe the plumber and Sarah Palin are the direct consequences of the schooling that Susan E. Blow describes. Her words were written in 1894. Can it be that by neglecting the education of our children's hands, we are turning their minds to mush? There is a direct one-to-one correlation between the decline of the manual arts in education and the rapid rise of the American pinhead.
Froebel, like other German educators of the time, was influenced by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, who said, "“Each has his own happiness in his hands, as the artist handles the rude clay he seeks to reshape it into a figure; yet it is the same with this art as with all others: only the capacity for it is innate; the art itself must be learned and painstaking”
I will harp on a point I have made many times in the blog that relates to Ms. Blow's point of conforming to natural stages of development. In Finland students become better readers in 37 1/2 percent less time by beginning at age 8. Here in the US, we seem desperate to reside in idiocy. [...]
Got that? Now, here we are in the holidays which in addition to the prototypical holiday behaviors, always brings up a few tattered memories of Christmas past. Confession: I admit to a slight sadness the one thing I really wanted I never got, realizing what I wanted I would have to give myself in my own way. As the years rolled along I did just that, but it was too late. You must begin ballet training very early, between three and five, no older than eight, if you are going to dance professionally with a successful company. All those childhood nights after school, the tears, the anguish, the cruel words and ambiance of abuse permeated the dining room homework sessions as I sweated out memorizing multiplication tables hating the deal that was my setup for failure. If I made an A+ in math I would get ballet lessons, which never happened. To see the variations of the Nutcracker now, I see what I could have been doing and am not. Instead, in art school, I supplemented my course work with dance training, I loved every minute, was a natural, made "A"s effortlessly, every time, but even then it was far too late. Don't get me wrong, art IS my raison d'etre, but it always existed alongside my other gift, the one I was denied until I could earn the means and the scholarships to do it myself. |
| Did something like this happen to Edward Degas? |
The truth was, and I figured this out early too, dancers were thought of as fallen women, burlesque performers, at least as my parent's zeitgeist trained them. I must have been raised to be rich, even though we were not rich that I could see by any means, have servants, nannies for the children, spend summers sailing at a family compound, perhaps they imagined me a surgeon's wife, provided he was well educated and from a good family, mostly I think I was supposed to be off to lunch with other rich ladies and write checks to popular charities at society balls. I know a lot of women who were raised to be exactly the same thing, unconsciously transmitted to them by equally well-intentioned mothers and fathers. Sometimes we joke with one another at our mutual reversals of fortune and the myths we were born into which fell drastically apart once we were on our own, because nothing we learned in school gave us skills to deal with real life. It was as if we had been raised to do nothing while appearing to be doing something beneficial. Everything I really needed to know I've learned by the seat of my jeans.
We cannot change the past, we can only move on and make the best of what we've got. I don't blame my parents for their child rearing practices, my father abroad for months, my mother sliding down the social ladder from socialite to department store saleslady, repeatedly relocated far from anything she'd ever known, they were only operating within the sole system available in their gradually diminishing circumstances, however, the next generation and the generations following need our help right now as they enter their journey into a new world with new systems and options previously unheard of or lock into lifestyles previously demeaned. Here is another very important and helpful persuader. When you really think about the system as it exists today, anything healthy about the typical American education is being slashed from state budgets, so why even bother? I have much praise for homeschooling and even more for children who are comfortable in their own skin, free to go all the way into their areas of interest as far as they want. Is there a problem with that? The only problem is the same problem unacknowledged inside the preoccupied din of the ever-creative errand boys operating as delivery men for the gnashing beast demanding obedience.
As recessions rose and laid dormant only to reoccur, what one person once snubbed as beneath them, i.e.; not good enough, became another person's valued employment as the little people en masse are at last forced back against the wall to accept total loss as normal everyday phenomena. Conversely, what was once refined and respected is now uniformly trashed as FUBAR and vice versa: any job will do, flip burgers, push mops, greet consumers, scrub toilet stalls, who cares, everyone has to eat. The people who perform those jobs that Americans wouldn't do, deserve our sincere respect for doing them now. Thus, looking around, you'll see the revolution is already in full swing. It is also violent, but not what we were taught a violent revolution was in world history class. Now violence takes place in protests, pitted against masked Darths and their thuggish, brutal street tortures, it takes place in undeclared wars far away from our vision, it happens in the too-frequent and violent crimes discussed in my last post, the kind of crime people resort to committing when they simply explode from a lifetime of abuse via suppression, backwards and upside down to the needs of the authentic self - that real self deep inside us who reaches out unthinkingly to carry a crying baby dolphin to shore as happened in the active phase of the BP debacle. The kind of crimes that are a release from and attack against the abusive, often religious morality imposed from birth that denied whomever else it was the criminal could have been had he/she been treated with respect, insight to interest and encouragement of those interests, exemplified by the tragic fate of Shaquan Duley and her young sons:
[...] What is it that makes one child oblivious to abuse and another cower and fall ill at the moment its shadow appears over the horizon? What is it that allows one person to be unfeeling towards someones suffering but another experience compassion? [...]
As with everything else, if we want something to happen we have to do it ourselves. Its too late for many of us reading here, our pasts are already yesterday's tire treads petroglyphed along forgotten trails, a permanent reminder those who inhabit our future might someday find themselves travelling the same destructive paths. We can make it easier for them if homo sapiens are to survive. And should they survive, which I am not exactly confident they will, we can at least allow them to possess peace of mind and meaningful lives free of irresponsible value judgements and at all times fully aware of self-worth and skilled in the creation and stewardship required for sustaining life on Earth. If we cannot leave them material things, as used to be and still is for a certain minority, a yardstick for some kind of unearned accomplishment, we can give them a better trip. That is the only gift that matters.
Coincidentally, from Visible's essay today, A Transmission from the Visible Planes:
If your idea of loving someone is to give them things in place of the love, you’re going to have a front row seat through the years to what that policy accomplishes. [...]
Photo: Degas oil c. Google Images
Saturday, December 04, 2010
crime and consumption inside the pyramid of limited growth
Welcome to the end of 2010 AD, the hottest year on record where climate catastrophe expresses itself in ice storms, blizzards, tornadoes, droughts, massive displacement from record floods, the unleashing of the Gulf Stream, the death of our oceans and slaughter of sea life, as the manipulators of the markets trawl the planet for hidden treasure. The wars and threats, the sly turns of phrase concealing nefarious intent, the untying of entire social fabrics into homelessness and penury, human against human, the survival of the most unfit with imitation mullahs, Jesus theme parks, the celebrated Sarah Palin gaffing with the stars ... Next?
I had to get into town yesterday, prepare my mind, stagger my lists of our most dire needs, the idea was a quick turn around, the vision: brief inconveniences, but a zoom-thru. I was wrong. Every day is Black Friday now, every retailer anticipating the every need of the breathless consumer, too consumed in consuming to gift wrap the items being purchased. Thus, gift wrapping service is back, restructured in prototypical style for today's overworked workers - such as men's plaid pajama pants prewrapped for your convenience in a matching plaid flannel, gold-corded drawstring bag. "Just throw it under the tree". Many people will. (Then why bother to wrap anything at all?) I looked at them briefly, in sideways glances appearing to look beyond them, wondering what their lives must be like. I wondered now that unemployment benefits are on hiatus again, WHAT were they thinking standing between the cashier and the card reader, ashen-faced, waiting for approval. Approval. And believe you me, this place was not Neiman's. No, this prefab aluminum freestanding HVAC'd energy whale was only one of millions dotting the face of our tortured planet providing an all under one roof multi-aisled mall. You may call them by their brand names, but they bear little separation from their engineering department's prototype illustrated in the engineering manual belonging to the mother ship. That is why they all look alike and feel alike. The little guys just can't get on board unless they are too absorbable to fail, meaning they statistically clocked-in with a profitable niche and bear AAA rated potential for mass consumption suitable for whichever targeted age and income demographic is most available for pocket picking. Enter the Marketeers. This too is all in the manual as a No Child Left Behind sort of thing.
Everything out there has its place in someones shopping cart, maybe not ours, but someone who doesn't know when enough is enough. Oh, I'm sure they mean well, but they have no, not even a basic low-level unacknowledged passing concern, self-awareness or grasp of free will to hold themselves back from dubious decisions. You could surmise they've operated on auto-pilot throughout eternity. Such is the round scripted lifestyle of which the human being is but a square peg on which minute-by-minute the chisels work to make us fit the prototype. The model. I passed children's dresses trying to find an exit and overheard the clerk tell a customer, "I'm taking this off the model because I have to have it, but come back later, we're restocking tonight." Actually, I was amazed I heard anything above the roar of gnashing consumption. It has a sound of its own like a sports stadium filled with puking migraine sufferers and crying babies.
Since it is impossible to shape us any more than we already shape ourselves, it chafes - some a great deal more than others (those in particular who go along to get along, the incurious) as we see in the almost daily, once infrequent, bizarre crimes against other people they inflict as if their actions are fully justified by helpless lapses into sheer irrationality. I hate to say this, but these home grown crimes are becoming commonly more gruesome as they unfold. Fact: Too many rats in a cage will fight to the death. We now expect stealth plotting, preplanned multiples of misleading illogical excuses, gang rape, death and dismemberment as another extension of WWT (worldwide terror).
For this many people populating our dying planet squeezed under unbearable restrictions growing stricter, like a house where the windowless rooms grow smaller, tighter, in every dimension, the unbalanced, the beaten-down, the confused, well, somethings gotta blow and many are blowing now. In the Culture of Extinction (Charles' title), the tight lids "always-misfits" hide under are coming unglued. They seem to arrive from diseased (dis-eased) roots, early on find solace in imitation, but poisoned by BGH and weed killer, never fitting into any mold whatsoever. They grew misanthropic over time except for what survival for themselves could be appropriated through innocent others, whether in a volcanic release of roiling under the surface pent-up energies or a pure expression of hatred of humanity manifesting through acting-out a perceived satanic part in the great comedy. Couple this stark void of self-awareness and lack of free will with all else happening environmentally and politically throughout the globe, sprinkle on stubborn chemtrails, the unpunished crimes of political criminals, increasing indebtedness and a representative-self dictating survival by any means within immediate reach and you get deformed, crippled behaviors that by their very grossness, further infect and upend everything surrounding them never to return to anything resembling even remote stability. Prison and programs are mere placeholders because the thing unrecognized is the healing required to eliminate these crimes against the innocent comes only from within. As long as everyone going along to get along appears to survive in the Culture of Extinction, the example from on high set in stone and widely approved, the crippled mannequin, the failed prototype, still imitating, sees himself as deserving his role in that culture. Giving vent to his rage is just a small part of an evolving malevolent philosophy likely glimpsed during the formative years with self-inflicted unhealthy and repetitive doses of pcp tranched with speed.
Ambient abuse turned to domestic violence is always wildly exacerbated by money issues. Its like cremating a simmering pot. The slightest and most unexpected thing sets them off. Thus, sitting directly under our noses we have a huge violent domestic crisis drowned out by apples and androids and yet, why this is so is rarely questioned. Every cultural trigger still exists. The safety remains on off.
Somehow, in the immediate aftermath of 911, I came across a plastic flag pin and wore it. I participated in the lights on all night solidarity of the masses. I stayed online, seeking information while the TV alternated between hurricane warnings and Bushisms. This went on for about two days, soundtracked by hammers slamming up storm shutters until hurricane pundits were all that was on 24 hours straight, drowning out the bullhorns and crazy pilots. And then the power went out. The winds howled, the foundations shook, the trees were breaking, sheets of rain beat its way into every crevice, the animals racing around the interior, horrified. It came to me our present was all that mattered and would always be all that matters. Everything else is extraneous manufactured prototypical stuffing except for the fundamental basics, our loved ones peace of mind which means of course, we have to be there for them in whatever way is possible. This is why, especially in these harsh times, we dutifully get up every day and square off with dragons so that our loved ones will not have the same struggle.
We know just by observing the direction daily drastic events are heading, things are going to get worse. Again, adjusting your program in support of your loved ones is priority. Some of us do it naturally as we've always done and some of us will need to force the effort. If you should find yourself feeling like rusty brillo, short and abrasive, swallow your pride. A great love of my life, a brilliant orphaned, highschool dropout with a remarkable sensitivity to the complex nuances of jazz once said "Revolution begins at home..." I would only add that revolution first begins with self-awareness.
I am thoroughly depleted by the bickering, contradictory Sopranos and their spiteful, worshiping errand boys so we won't even go there this week. There are other more helpful and compassionate places to be.
I had to get into town yesterday, prepare my mind, stagger my lists of our most dire needs, the idea was a quick turn around, the vision: brief inconveniences, but a zoom-thru. I was wrong. Every day is Black Friday now, every retailer anticipating the every need of the breathless consumer, too consumed in consuming to gift wrap the items being purchased. Thus, gift wrapping service is back, restructured in prototypical style for today's overworked workers - such as men's plaid pajama pants prewrapped for your convenience in a matching plaid flannel, gold-corded drawstring bag. "Just throw it under the tree". Many people will. (Then why bother to wrap anything at all?) I looked at them briefly, in sideways glances appearing to look beyond them, wondering what their lives must be like. I wondered now that unemployment benefits are on hiatus again, WHAT were they thinking standing between the cashier and the card reader, ashen-faced, waiting for approval. Approval. And believe you me, this place was not Neiman's. No, this prefab aluminum freestanding HVAC'd energy whale was only one of millions dotting the face of our tortured planet providing an all under one roof multi-aisled mall. You may call them by their brand names, but they bear little separation from their engineering department's prototype illustrated in the engineering manual belonging to the mother ship. That is why they all look alike and feel alike. The little guys just can't get on board unless they are too absorbable to fail, meaning they statistically clocked-in with a profitable niche and bear AAA rated potential for mass consumption suitable for whichever targeted age and income demographic is most available for pocket picking. Enter the Marketeers. This too is all in the manual as a No Child Left Behind sort of thing.Everything out there has its place in someones shopping cart, maybe not ours, but someone who doesn't know when enough is enough. Oh, I'm sure they mean well, but they have no, not even a basic low-level unacknowledged passing concern, self-awareness or grasp of free will to hold themselves back from dubious decisions. You could surmise they've operated on auto-pilot throughout eternity. Such is the round scripted lifestyle of which the human being is but a square peg on which minute-by-minute the chisels work to make us fit the prototype. The model. I passed children's dresses trying to find an exit and overheard the clerk tell a customer, "I'm taking this off the model because I have to have it, but come back later, we're restocking tonight." Actually, I was amazed I heard anything above the roar of gnashing consumption. It has a sound of its own like a sports stadium filled with puking migraine sufferers and crying babies.
Since it is impossible to shape us any more than we already shape ourselves, it chafes - some a great deal more than others (those in particular who go along to get along, the incurious) as we see in the almost daily, once infrequent, bizarre crimes against other people they inflict as if their actions are fully justified by helpless lapses into sheer irrationality. I hate to say this, but these home grown crimes are becoming commonly more gruesome as they unfold. Fact: Too many rats in a cage will fight to the death. We now expect stealth plotting, preplanned multiples of misleading illogical excuses, gang rape, death and dismemberment as another extension of WWT (worldwide terror).
For this many people populating our dying planet squeezed under unbearable restrictions growing stricter, like a house where the windowless rooms grow smaller, tighter, in every dimension, the unbalanced, the beaten-down, the confused, well, somethings gotta blow and many are blowing now. In the Culture of Extinction (Charles' title), the tight lids "always-misfits" hide under are coming unglued. They seem to arrive from diseased (dis-eased) roots, early on find solace in imitation, but poisoned by BGH and weed killer, never fitting into any mold whatsoever. They grew misanthropic over time except for what survival for themselves could be appropriated through innocent others, whether in a volcanic release of roiling under the surface pent-up energies or a pure expression of hatred of humanity manifesting through acting-out a perceived satanic part in the great comedy. Couple this stark void of self-awareness and lack of free will with all else happening environmentally and politically throughout the globe, sprinkle on stubborn chemtrails, the unpunished crimes of political criminals, increasing indebtedness and a representative-self dictating survival by any means within immediate reach and you get deformed, crippled behaviors that by their very grossness, further infect and upend everything surrounding them never to return to anything resembling even remote stability. Prison and programs are mere placeholders because the thing unrecognized is the healing required to eliminate these crimes against the innocent comes only from within. As long as everyone going along to get along appears to survive in the Culture of Extinction, the example from on high set in stone and widely approved, the crippled mannequin, the failed prototype, still imitating, sees himself as deserving his role in that culture. Giving vent to his rage is just a small part of an evolving malevolent philosophy likely glimpsed during the formative years with self-inflicted unhealthy and repetitive doses of pcp tranched with speed.
Ambient abuse turned to domestic violence is always wildly exacerbated by money issues. Its like cremating a simmering pot. The slightest and most unexpected thing sets them off. Thus, sitting directly under our noses we have a huge violent domestic crisis drowned out by apples and androids and yet, why this is so is rarely questioned. Every cultural trigger still exists. The safety remains on off.
Somehow, in the immediate aftermath of 911, I came across a plastic flag pin and wore it. I participated in the lights on all night solidarity of the masses. I stayed online, seeking information while the TV alternated between hurricane warnings and Bushisms. This went on for about two days, soundtracked by hammers slamming up storm shutters until hurricane pundits were all that was on 24 hours straight, drowning out the bullhorns and crazy pilots. And then the power went out. The winds howled, the foundations shook, the trees were breaking, sheets of rain beat its way into every crevice, the animals racing around the interior, horrified. It came to me our present was all that mattered and would always be all that matters. Everything else is extraneous manufactured prototypical stuffing except for the fundamental basics, our loved ones peace of mind which means of course, we have to be there for them in whatever way is possible. This is why, especially in these harsh times, we dutifully get up every day and square off with dragons so that our loved ones will not have the same struggle.
We know just by observing the direction daily drastic events are heading, things are going to get worse. Again, adjusting your program in support of your loved ones is priority. Some of us do it naturally as we've always done and some of us will need to force the effort. If you should find yourself feeling like rusty brillo, short and abrasive, swallow your pride. A great love of my life, a brilliant orphaned, highschool dropout with a remarkable sensitivity to the complex nuances of jazz once said "Revolution begins at home..." I would only add that revolution first begins with self-awareness.
I am thoroughly depleted by the bickering, contradictory Sopranos and their spiteful, worshiping errand boys so we won't even go there this week. There are other more helpful and compassionate places to be.
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