Welcome to the Dark Side where the boundary between moral and immoral, good and evil, is but a childhood game of pretend, having nothing in common with typical adult behaviors in this twenty-first century cage match called life.
You are aware, of course, of the Bell Curve visually representing the rise and decline of Peak oil. You would also then be aware of our position on the downside, sliding off peak and accelerating downhill, which naturally is the only way it would come about, through Newton's Law, even though nobody imagined it would really happen in quite the way it is happening today.
Here is the real problem that we face and here is its name, too many are locked into abject confusion about it since seldom in the human social arena is the root cause addressed for what it actually is, which is - Overpopulation. On one hand, speaking up, even quietly, places you into the usual Doomer-Paranoid-Schizophrenic categories while remaining silent is a compromise that won't lie down for long without unhinging your mental survival. Others are unconcerned, more than a few are just too stupid, most by far have no idea how severe the problem is while the problem, unaddressed, only worsens by the hour. Ah, hello, Mister Pope? Anybody home there? We've long passed unsustainable, we are peaked out, the signs screaming for attention and intentionally ignored in the face of economic growth by those whom you would think certainly know better. As long as the ego's needs are met, there is no problem.
The next time you find yourself sitting in traffic, take a good look at your surroundings, take note of the decals emblazoned in obese fonts with neon hues on westerners' windsheilds, "American Patriot", "I'm not a bitch, I'm THE Bitch" or the rednecks' fave, bin Laden pissing. These indicate a desperation to stand out among the writhing masses, wouldn't you say, a loneliness so severe that attention is drawn by means of annoying hapless passersby? You might also say its obvious they have no identity anymore (if they ever had any to begin with) and obscene decals are the best they could scrabble together in saying "I am alive, look at me, I count dammit!"
The noise and overamped illusions slam into our lives and lifestyles in competitive proportion to the ignorance, people who are capable of intellectual reasoning cannot help but question their sanity and in the questioning resort to resolve their discomfort and alienation through layers of complex adjustment which does nothing at all seriously effective towards any solution. Can it be the clock has already run out? It very well may be too late. Consider your personal experience in this new world before further shrugging. If the agenda of the CFR is curbing overpopulation, and we do not know if it is or is not, and if it is, how intense an effort is put forth, they are doing everyone including themselves a humiliating disservice by not fully disclosing the fundamentals in full required to reign in over-breeding.
The situation concerns us, must we remind you, without us, you have nothing.
Considering we are all united, (simply being alive together at this strange time is uniting in itself) from blades of grass to cleverly dexterous, manipulative predators, all of us in competition for sunlight, food and water, frankly, I am floored the subject remains so indefinite, so vague, heh, a National Geographic style series about something happening somewhere else perhaps, nothing to get excited about, after all, what can we do? The line is more than established about what we can do and what we can not. When your own law begins with DO NO HARM, is there really any need for further elaboration? What we have before us is a MASSIVE, unimaginable to most, horrifying disaster unfolding as we read here today. Everything happening to our planet, and this means happening to you personally, yes, you, in your very own skin, regardless of station or habitat, will expand in magnitude quickly far surpassing all that seems difficult and unmanageable today, and continue to exponentially spread outwards imprisoning and incapacitating every single living being, every single life, every species and landmass above and below the Earth's surface, every body of water, every resource, everything that exists, until forced oblivion by whatever means puts a halt to the madness.
This is not a situation blameable on the twenty four hour news cycle or Wall Street or the illusions of politics or unscrupulous activities of the personhoods or the sudden appearance of encyclopedias at our disposal or terrorism, those elements among countless others are the Side Effects spawned by the Great Human Disaster. This problem is social across the board. We are attempting to survive, very often casually, with merrymaking and homilies, inside a worsening nightmare as the flesh eating disease ravages our planet. It should not have been this way, wrought though denial, deceit, directed diversion, plying the gullibility of the innocent with invented fables and caricatures to live by. Rather than bear responsibility, fingers are pointed in every direction, while the ugly root remains behind a dark veil, in the maggot-infested root cellar, unacknowledged as it must be in order maintain civil appearances cultivated though lurid nonsense. Defrocking much of that nonsense has been the task of this blog from inception.
Truly, it perfectly parallels classic philosophy problems in its dilemma characteristics, questions without answers, contradiction and cyclical argument, intense self-examination as the seemingly impossible shifts into fact. In debate, the dilemma is usually glossed over as too overwhelming, too conflicting, exacerbating moral hazard and the casualty of bias. We'd better get real about this soon and start talking about it everywhere, all the time, but in order to do so, we must first accept the scope of the situation and accept where it is taking us, no easy task in the ugly face of hope and belief.
... They all know it is there, some of them have come to see it, others are content merely to know it is there. They all know that it has to be there. Some of them understand why, and some do not, but they all understand that their happiness, the beauty of their city, the tenderness of their friendships, the health of their children, the wisdom of their scholars, the skill of their makers, even the abundance of their harvest and the kindly weathers of their skies, depend wholly on this child's abominable misery. ...
from The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas by Ursula K. LeGuin
If you want to insure your handle on just how grotesque it is already, go somewhere you once lived five or ten, twenty years ago and note the changes, relate those changes to societal changes elsewhere and stack them up, with a little brief mental math the future becomes immediately predictable, and not just your own future, but that of everything else. Not even in death with creditors freely grave robbing and Potter's Field, the notorious SoCal paupers' cemetery, legally approved for cremation clearing the land for construction, does it end. Overpopulation will continue to startle and exceed expectation without impediment as long as we allow it.
Where are the controls? The census, an economic tool - is not exactly a solution, now is it. The census surely can not come close to anything accurate in these decades of belligerent fraud. Whatever numbers they release this time around are likely absent an overwhelming amount of skilled system gamers. Once a help, now a hindrance, just another sad vehicle keeping the truth sealed ...
It is nothing short of a shock to face this emerge-and-see in its fullness. Considering the spectacular injustices taking place within the span of our lifetimes, it would not be a surprise to learn global warming, or whatever you prefer to call it, was not set up deliberately to deal with this issue unbeknownst to civilization at large. You'll have to think about that one for awhile. Think about HAARP and chemtrails while you are at it. There is a disturbing pattern to the presentation, initially vehemently denied, now weakly acknowledged, remaining for the most part resisted, but only seemingly so and always redirected in favor of system reinforcement agendas.
It is reality altered as all reality is altered by the individual preference to seek or to reject at any given time, thoroughly dependent on how such a variable fits into the human's personal survival plan on any particular day.
I would appreciate some sincere discussion, if possible. There are plenty of links, I've seen them, most dare not veer into spectacular disaster territory however, lacking the direct link to our unwieldy present state of affairs. Something's gotta give, my friends, and soon.
FYI, this subject is not about sex, pharmaceutics showed us that much with the advent of birth control. This issue is practically unfathomable in its magnitude, it is the greatest dilemma our planet faces. It was coming, it was predicted, the predictions are being surpassed while anyone who actually is in position to address the crisis is made a fool, subject to the off-topic censoring by economic dictates and all the accompanying falderal which equates to dillydallying. Dillydallying only takes place when time is being bought and in this case time is working against ALL of us.
I acknowledge that it is up to the individual to live out their days as an example of what can be done beneficially, but in reality incessant consumerization utterly fails to encourage restraint.
We are standing on the edge of the end. None of us wants to see any further increase in the horror of these times, but it is guaranteed greater and more extractive horrors awaiting just up the road will make our lives a living hell on Earth in practically no time at all. All that which we once thought we would not live to see, we are seeing now. Are you ready for more? No, you are absolutely not and I am not, either. What is coming does not appear remotely survivable.
Ask yourself, does the human species possess intelligence specifically to counter Universal built-in extinction?
related: Zoos' bitter choice
Showing posts with label everything is related. Show all posts
Showing posts with label everything is related. Show all posts
Monday, May 28, 2012
Friday, June 03, 2011
Lighting the Pyre: a portrait in child abuse
A rather perfect metaphor for the state of our new national lifestyle happens to be playing out at this very moment under the noses of one of the largest gatherings of tabloidiers in America's favorite conference city, Orlando. Yes, its the sad, sorry show trial of "Tot Mom", Casey Anthony. Since the OJ freeway chase, these trials have become commercially sponsored circuses where every irrelevant detail is allowed a full day, often weeks, in sideshows where everyone who is someone presses or is pressured repeatedly to resolve actually nothing. It seems in this latest Orlando tent revival encircled with news caravans swaying to the chorus of death penalty, cold blooded monster, spiteful bitch, etc, nowhere is there mention of a father for the dead child. You'll have to think about that one, and when you do, it will remind you of a swirling Twilight Zone vortex sucking you far, far down the rabbit hole into long and winding secret tunnels, each of them detours and cul de sacs lined with casinos, choir boys, Super 8's and fast food chains. Mind you, I pay attention to this trial reluctantly. Our old friend Pirate Rick once said about these things, its like trying not to look at a horrible car accident... as you inch by in first gear under direction from the highway patrol.
Ahem, cough cough, and how is that different from the general state of affairs?
This Tot Mom story is interesting because the seriously damaged defendant on trial for murder simply cannot speak truthfully on any issue at all. That she cannot tell the truth about ANYthing, many unrelated or very much related witnesses on the stand can lie and walk free since next to Tot Mom, everyone else testifying appears innocent and is excused from guilt. If you have a chance to see this girl in action what you are seeing is an extraordinarily advanced product of civilization in disaster, a modern day dysfunctional family up to their eyeballs in abuse. The upbringing of such a defendant becomes obvious as the storyline continues to guarantee further depletion of Floridian taxpayers pockets. I give this one months in the oven and even then nothing about the story is obvious for the obvious here is what is brazenly ignored in favor of execution. It is this summer's Coliseum act. Glancing at the MSM sites tells us it is a ratings smash. You have to imagine there are more than a few swaps riding on the verdict.
Let's see, if you were beaten to a pulp as a child you would soon learn to lie about whatever it was that caused the beatings. Let's say the infractions were always minor, like not making your bed or keeping your drawers neat enough, and let's say it made no difference, minor infractions were treated as serious criminal offense each and every time without regard to degree of the offense, eventually a child adapts themselves for survival by distorting any truth in order to escape punishment. Now, imagine both parents of such a child never spoke truthfully either, that every word was a denial of responsibility through subterfuge and little coalitions agreeing with one another's fabrications on every single issue that came along, even that of being fully unable to cancel an appointment without spinning a web of transparent and complicated whoppers. Remarkably, this upside down and backwards family receives the kiss of lily whiteness while Tot Mom becomes further separated from the world of the living. And yet, nothing to date has come up that in any way resembles truth. It is as if the jury is deaf and blind and the prosecution's vampire fangs drip blood on the industrial carpet of modern justice's architectural flooring. This event is of course only one of many more to come as technology partners with the global economy to stay high on the Forbes list with all the extreme and previously unimaginable tortures reducing world population to a more manageable size and expense, simultaneously producing glowing quarterly growth reports.
One item of note in this bloodthirsty carnival that evades discussion concerns the father of the dead toddler. Um, where is he? Who is he? Why is he never mentioned? Its a simple question, isn't it. Perhaps something was said before I looked behind the pulpit? Its possible, in fact you may wonder how I could be posting about this trial at all. No problem, the Fireteacher is the TV guy here, I pass through the room where he watches hundreds of times a day in my position as friend doing my chores of support, and whatever is blaring on the box meets my ears, like it or not, if anything it stimulates the aura of ambient anguish. One could fall into compete spiritual fulfillment without the grinding vocals of analysts analyzing computer generated news because the Internet killed the physical papers and they had to make up the loss keyboarding in ones and zeros like everybody else if they were going to keep up appearances as vitally important to global economic growth in transition. (Cough, cough, must be getting a cold ...) The longer the Apocalypse stretches out, the more variations of dysfunction come into the spotlight. The more absurd the circus acts, drunken, oxycodoned, opiated and chloroformed to both seller and buyer, the more fantastic these distortions of reality become and there my friends, lies our true growth as a species, giving willing and gutturally brazen acceptance to Orwellian mass hatred by the numbers and again, it appears a smash.
Yesterday morning as I was leashing little Bernie for his stroll, the squawk box attached to a satellite network was trembling with cartoon lightening zig zags concerning a controversy between political analysts having to do with a few states' new plan to drug test food stamp recipients. Maybe they should take a poll among the African Americans in Oakland to see how well that might work out as a clever cost cutting measure to trim the deficit? And, btw, can anyone tell me what we are doing in Afghanistan?
There was a time not too long ago, black gold was all the talk, but no more. Its got lots of company as the land melts away under mining wastewater and radiation encircles the globe, this must be what it is like to smother slowly inside a bank vault.
Back to the trial, children are sponges, they take on their parents patterns helped along with more advanced patterns of the same behaviors as they mature and observe. Try to keep that in mind when you run into denial. Denial is not a genetic trait, it is a learned self-preservation strategy. Ideally, humans should not be forced to deny anything, but as technology advances, lies become ubiquitous because every aspect of the greater denial is charted for approval and receiving high marks for complete, multi-tiered, tinseled fabrications such as the recent resurrection of Osama. High approval ratings equate to big investments which benefits ... oh, guess who.
Tot Mom's entire family is hiding a horrible secret. So noxious is the truth behind this story, they are willing to crucify each other on the stand before revealing anything even hinting at this secret which of course, they are sworn to do under oath. Since 2008, they've continued the charade of forthright honesty all the while building walls of deceit to protect that which they are loathe to utter and yet, having lost a granddaughter, the life of their only daughter/sister is thrown under the bus to protect their magazine image, their collective representative-selves, rather than see the remainder of their days on Earth tarnished with the ugly stain of perversion and abuse. No doubt the truth will come out one day, but possibly not in time to save Casey from execution. It is a shame to watch these characters portray the drama mirrored daily in political life, the corporatocracy and its filthy policies, foreign and otherwise, which regularly throw entire populations under the bus as well. Post traumatic shock, dysfunctional leadership and the abuses they perpetrate always make a delicate situation worse with after-effects trickling down wherever exists the path of least resistance - among the innocent, the unaware, the suffering, denied the God-given right to flower into maturity, instead forced to shrivel under the boot. What we find ultimately repulsive are the crowds pointing and shouting blame while possessing no insight into how these situations come to pass or what they portend for our shared futures.
Update: As I ready this post for publication, the trial pundits seem to have taken a new twist, CNN is actually arguing over Tot Mom as traumatized victim of sexual abuse by her solid citizen father, former police officer, but will it stick or be shouted down by the hungry crowds thrilling to the circus? We might know by the time the next "giving" season rolls around - or not. A this point, it would not be out of the ballpark to say this particular circus has real potential for indefinite repeats as the subjects under examination take the broken middle class off the pages of human history forever.
Ahem, cough cough, and how is that different from the general state of affairs?
This Tot Mom story is interesting because the seriously damaged defendant on trial for murder simply cannot speak truthfully on any issue at all. That she cannot tell the truth about ANYthing, many unrelated or very much related witnesses on the stand can lie and walk free since next to Tot Mom, everyone else testifying appears innocent and is excused from guilt. If you have a chance to see this girl in action what you are seeing is an extraordinarily advanced product of civilization in disaster, a modern day dysfunctional family up to their eyeballs in abuse. The upbringing of such a defendant becomes obvious as the storyline continues to guarantee further depletion of Floridian taxpayers pockets. I give this one months in the oven and even then nothing about the story is obvious for the obvious here is what is brazenly ignored in favor of execution. It is this summer's Coliseum act. Glancing at the MSM sites tells us it is a ratings smash. You have to imagine there are more than a few swaps riding on the verdict.
Let's see, if you were beaten to a pulp as a child you would soon learn to lie about whatever it was that caused the beatings. Let's say the infractions were always minor, like not making your bed or keeping your drawers neat enough, and let's say it made no difference, minor infractions were treated as serious criminal offense each and every time without regard to degree of the offense, eventually a child adapts themselves for survival by distorting any truth in order to escape punishment. Now, imagine both parents of such a child never spoke truthfully either, that every word was a denial of responsibility through subterfuge and little coalitions agreeing with one another's fabrications on every single issue that came along, even that of being fully unable to cancel an appointment without spinning a web of transparent and complicated whoppers. Remarkably, this upside down and backwards family receives the kiss of lily whiteness while Tot Mom becomes further separated from the world of the living. And yet, nothing to date has come up that in any way resembles truth. It is as if the jury is deaf and blind and the prosecution's vampire fangs drip blood on the industrial carpet of modern justice's architectural flooring. This event is of course only one of many more to come as technology partners with the global economy to stay high on the Forbes list with all the extreme and previously unimaginable tortures reducing world population to a more manageable size and expense, simultaneously producing glowing quarterly growth reports.
One item of note in this bloodthirsty carnival that evades discussion concerns the father of the dead toddler. Um, where is he? Who is he? Why is he never mentioned? Its a simple question, isn't it. Perhaps something was said before I looked behind the pulpit? Its possible, in fact you may wonder how I could be posting about this trial at all. No problem, the Fireteacher is the TV guy here, I pass through the room where he watches hundreds of times a day in my position as friend doing my chores of support, and whatever is blaring on the box meets my ears, like it or not, if anything it stimulates the aura of ambient anguish. One could fall into compete spiritual fulfillment without the grinding vocals of analysts analyzing computer generated news because the Internet killed the physical papers and they had to make up the loss keyboarding in ones and zeros like everybody else if they were going to keep up appearances as vitally important to global economic growth in transition. (Cough, cough, must be getting a cold ...) The longer the Apocalypse stretches out, the more variations of dysfunction come into the spotlight. The more absurd the circus acts, drunken, oxycodoned, opiated and chloroformed to both seller and buyer, the more fantastic these distortions of reality become and there my friends, lies our true growth as a species, giving willing and gutturally brazen acceptance to Orwellian mass hatred by the numbers and again, it appears a smash.
Yesterday morning as I was leashing little Bernie for his stroll, the squawk box attached to a satellite network was trembling with cartoon lightening zig zags concerning a controversy between political analysts having to do with a few states' new plan to drug test food stamp recipients. Maybe they should take a poll among the African Americans in Oakland to see how well that might work out as a clever cost cutting measure to trim the deficit? And, btw, can anyone tell me what we are doing in Afghanistan?
There was a time not too long ago, black gold was all the talk, but no more. Its got lots of company as the land melts away under mining wastewater and radiation encircles the globe, this must be what it is like to smother slowly inside a bank vault.
Back to the trial, children are sponges, they take on their parents patterns helped along with more advanced patterns of the same behaviors as they mature and observe. Try to keep that in mind when you run into denial. Denial is not a genetic trait, it is a learned self-preservation strategy. Ideally, humans should not be forced to deny anything, but as technology advances, lies become ubiquitous because every aspect of the greater denial is charted for approval and receiving high marks for complete, multi-tiered, tinseled fabrications such as the recent resurrection of Osama. High approval ratings equate to big investments which benefits ... oh, guess who.
Tot Mom's entire family is hiding a horrible secret. So noxious is the truth behind this story, they are willing to crucify each other on the stand before revealing anything even hinting at this secret which of course, they are sworn to do under oath. Since 2008, they've continued the charade of forthright honesty all the while building walls of deceit to protect that which they are loathe to utter and yet, having lost a granddaughter, the life of their only daughter/sister is thrown under the bus to protect their magazine image, their collective representative-selves, rather than see the remainder of their days on Earth tarnished with the ugly stain of perversion and abuse. No doubt the truth will come out one day, but possibly not in time to save Casey from execution. It is a shame to watch these characters portray the drama mirrored daily in political life, the corporatocracy and its filthy policies, foreign and otherwise, which regularly throw entire populations under the bus as well. Post traumatic shock, dysfunctional leadership and the abuses they perpetrate always make a delicate situation worse with after-effects trickling down wherever exists the path of least resistance - among the innocent, the unaware, the suffering, denied the God-given right to flower into maturity, instead forced to shrivel under the boot. What we find ultimately repulsive are the crowds pointing and shouting blame while possessing no insight into how these situations come to pass or what they portend for our shared futures.
Update: As I ready this post for publication, the trial pundits seem to have taken a new twist, CNN is actually arguing over Tot Mom as traumatized victim of sexual abuse by her solid citizen father, former police officer, but will it stick or be shouted down by the hungry crowds thrilling to the circus? We might know by the time the next "giving" season rolls around - or not. A this point, it would not be out of the ballpark to say this particular circus has real potential for indefinite repeats as the subjects under examination take the broken middle class off the pages of human history forever.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
postcard from Planet Backwards
We may have been transported to another planet while we slept. A planet where everything appears as it was when you went to bed, but the rules are different. The certainty is gone, nothing can be counted on to be what you thought it was, including mirrors which show only your preening representative-self, but these mirrors now imported from somewhere gawd only knows, are part of the new, New World lifestyles we all lead helplessly where right is wrong and black is white. I've said it before and will say it again, no one is immune. I'm quite sure you know how it goes, these sudden spring days give us a nostalgia, a screen door barefoot kind of summery happy sadness, something deep within the heart wants to go home again, but we don't really know where home is anymore. Perhaps it never was real considering how much is being revealed in the present, perhaps it was only a lyric in a song you resonated with or an artwork that spoke to you in a way that touched you and you reminisced about something hazy that was just a dream on your way to partake in continuing the dream as if it was endless. And then, BRRRRIIING BRRRRIIING, the cell woke you up with a scam call, an 800 number announcing BofA was here to help. As if anyone needs that kind of help. "Your social please."
I'm thinking about the recent events trying to separate my own conclusions from everyone else's observations. The problem seems to be that so many windup clacking dental jaws make their definitive pronouncements on these situations which muddles us and it takes a lot of silence and a good amount of disgust before strange new worldie ideas come creepin' round. In the midst of this jibber jabber, we forge on with our normal routines, so following my own advice, I make a point to remember fleeting thoughts no matter how absurd because after all, absurdity is rational on Planet Backwards.
To begin with, I labored for years upon years under one set of inviolate basics and as I matured, I took it for granted everyone else matured mentally and spiritually as well. Oh, ho ho. I blew off the Clinton years as a single parent which takes up a lot of attention and time leaving one somewhat ill-equipped to peer into the mysterious direction our world is taking, so when 2001 came along, and the bullhorner kept harping on attacks, I was stunned. Did he mean war? Had we not grown beyond that? What? That's video game nonsense, comics, sandbox bullying. He couldn't be serious! However, obviously we had already been transported and 2001 was the wake-up year we debarked as unwilling hostages, searched and tagged into Planet Backwards. Was it AD, BC, or NWO time? We can't know for sure, that's one of the chief hallmarks of this joint, nothing is what you are forced into pretending it is. Let's take this BP hit for example, didn't they used to be that gas station outfit with Swiss-style greenie graphics? On Planet Backwards, they are a ludicrously wealthy and universally powerful energy provider which appears to possess enough chutzpah to claw a hole in the tectonic plates holding our previous planet in place. And you know what that means, well the plates kept a movin' and a shiftin' until all those tender, flaming tectonic platters overlapped on top of each other and BOOM, there went Japan. Tragedy of all tragedies, Japan proved itself just as ill-equipped as I was to peer into the direction the wonderful wheels of progress had taken them. During all the years they should have known better, they were desperately balancing non-existent yen from a bone dry piggy bank rather than thinking about their rice paper villages despite the 1997 Kyoto Protocols on Climate Change. You have to imagine those very intelligent people that studiously researched the issues got an education that may well have saved their once exquisite paradise given the opportunity to speak truthfully where it counts. Somewhere there are some sad human beings, disoriented and displaced to shelters asking themselves why they took no for an answer.
Then I think about us, what an unholy mess was made of that sweet dream, guaranteed to get messier. Where does it end, you'll notice it is not even paring off, not in the slightest. Is everyone supposed to be homeless? They say this year is a bad one for housing, the word is foreclosures this year will beat all the previous years. Our economy is still in the toilet and the cowardly laureate only worsens the wound with a little altruistic interventionism which when you think about it, isn't this exactly what ignites the bubble bath? Well, around the hallowed dinner tables where pundits are not allowed, a big fat dose of grisly war is just the right prescription for an ailing economy. From Planet Backwards where war is peace, our telescopic star gazers hint stubborn Col. Qaddafi may have given the interventionists (ridiculous label alert) the gift of continuing consumptive prosperity. Does slave labor in China make those gilded plastic coffins for export?
Maybe it would have been more clever to save this entry for April Fools' Day, but many bloggers actually write posts in advance, and with the never ending advent of technology one simply clicks the mouse and posts appear at some exact time and date of their choice. I always wondered on every April 1st, who is the fool?
The sheep are doing very well. All the kids are behaving like human children, busy, curious, enchanted, hungry, frolicking, joyous. They never just walk, they leap and hop. These particular sheep really have it good on Planet Backwards. If we just had wool coats and three-chambered stomachs, we could graze our hearts away too, never having to worry about anything other than staying dry in rainy weather. Although, with their extreme super-coats, rain water bounces right off. The day pen was moved much closer this morning and they are practically grazing at our door. I moved my drawing table right up to the corner windows for some gesture drawings of these guys. Gesture drawings are quick, (one minute is too long) rough pencil sketches for the purpose of loosening one's hand as well as improving the eye's understanding of anatomy so that you learn to see what IS and how it feels, rather than what you thought it was or surmised how it felt. Any art school worth its tuition fees spends the entire foundation year on Nicolaides gesture drawing techniques with live, nude models. This is known as Life Drawing 101. If you don't get to do this, you are condemned to spend your years on Planet Earth doing scritchy scratch on ruled notebook paper. Heh, I am a purist. not.
Allow me to close this post with sincere condolences, comfort and love to the Beageant family and to our brilliant and talented friends, Brian and Chickory, on their recent losses. Joe and those adored Mothers (great women who raised great people) are free at last. Praise Jah and His compassionate benevolence, when we have finally had enough He is there.
I'm thinking about the recent events trying to separate my own conclusions from everyone else's observations. The problem seems to be that so many windup clacking dental jaws make their definitive pronouncements on these situations which muddles us and it takes a lot of silence and a good amount of disgust before strange new worldie ideas come creepin' round. In the midst of this jibber jabber, we forge on with our normal routines, so following my own advice, I make a point to remember fleeting thoughts no matter how absurd because after all, absurdity is rational on Planet Backwards.
To begin with, I labored for years upon years under one set of inviolate basics and as I matured, I took it for granted everyone else matured mentally and spiritually as well. Oh, ho ho. I blew off the Clinton years as a single parent which takes up a lot of attention and time leaving one somewhat ill-equipped to peer into the mysterious direction our world is taking, so when 2001 came along, and the bullhorner kept harping on attacks, I was stunned. Did he mean war? Had we not grown beyond that? What? That's video game nonsense, comics, sandbox bullying. He couldn't be serious! However, obviously we had already been transported and 2001 was the wake-up year we debarked as unwilling hostages, searched and tagged into Planet Backwards. Was it AD, BC, or NWO time? We can't know for sure, that's one of the chief hallmarks of this joint, nothing is what you are forced into pretending it is. Let's take this BP hit for example, didn't they used to be that gas station outfit with Swiss-style greenie graphics? On Planet Backwards, they are a ludicrously wealthy and universally powerful energy provider which appears to possess enough chutzpah to claw a hole in the tectonic plates holding our previous planet in place. And you know what that means, well the plates kept a movin' and a shiftin' until all those tender, flaming tectonic platters overlapped on top of each other and BOOM, there went Japan. Tragedy of all tragedies, Japan proved itself just as ill-equipped as I was to peer into the direction the wonderful wheels of progress had taken them. During all the years they should have known better, they were desperately balancing non-existent yen from a bone dry piggy bank rather than thinking about their rice paper villages despite the 1997 Kyoto Protocols on Climate Change. You have to imagine those very intelligent people that studiously researched the issues got an education that may well have saved their once exquisite paradise given the opportunity to speak truthfully where it counts. Somewhere there are some sad human beings, disoriented and displaced to shelters asking themselves why they took no for an answer.
Then I think about us, what an unholy mess was made of that sweet dream, guaranteed to get messier. Where does it end, you'll notice it is not even paring off, not in the slightest. Is everyone supposed to be homeless? They say this year is a bad one for housing, the word is foreclosures this year will beat all the previous years. Our economy is still in the toilet and the cowardly laureate only worsens the wound with a little altruistic interventionism which when you think about it, isn't this exactly what ignites the bubble bath? Well, around the hallowed dinner tables where pundits are not allowed, a big fat dose of grisly war is just the right prescription for an ailing economy. From Planet Backwards where war is peace, our telescopic star gazers hint stubborn Col. Qaddafi may have given the interventionists (ridiculous label alert) the gift of continuing consumptive prosperity. Does slave labor in China make those gilded plastic coffins for export?
Maybe it would have been more clever to save this entry for April Fools' Day, but many bloggers actually write posts in advance, and with the never ending advent of technology one simply clicks the mouse and posts appear at some exact time and date of their choice. I always wondered on every April 1st, who is the fool?
 |
| the Kids are alright |
 |
| Amos keeps an eye on his family from the big house |
 |
| Mother Scarlett watches too |
Allow me to close this post with sincere condolences, comfort and love to the Beageant family and to our brilliant and talented friends, Brian and Chickory, on their recent losses. Joe and those adored Mothers (great women who raised great people) are free at last. Praise Jah and His compassionate benevolence, when we have finally had enough He is there.
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.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
food wagon at the Sphinx
Please go to the Gallery.
If you are on dial-up and have to wait for the images to download, here's something to digest in the interum.
If you are on dial-up and have to wait for the images to download, here's something to digest in the interum.
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.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
from dust to dust: broken and breaking
... The first U.S. census, in 1790, recorded four million Americans. By 2000, this number had grown to 281 million. It is expected to reach 310 million by 2010 and 439 million[17] by 2050. ... Demographics of the United StatesBy the time my homesteading chores for the day are done, the light is gone and evening wrapup chores require my presence. I've been keeping up in moments grabbed between one thing and another and the mood for something more stimulating vanishes behind everything that is broken. My news for you in general is nothing will change, what you see is what you get and worse, what we don't know is already playing out and not yet sugar-coated sufficiently to enact at full throttle, but give it time. The days are like an old calendar from early cartoons, flying off the pages, one after another, faster and faster, D day for change has come and gone so many times and still nothing changes for the better. The wars are never ending. The monetary crises, world wide, continue, falter and stand again for repeats until everyone forgot how it got this way in the first place. If you read the items on my blog list over there on the right, daily, you're seeing things much the same way I am.
Among the things that are backwards and upside down, we do not know when we have it good and we also do not know when we have it bad or recognize in all its totality every step down into the cellar of life where choice and simple contentment don't exist. How many foreclosees do you think are saying to themselves on this very day "Gee, we never should have left that little apartment with the low rent." Too many human beings are simply unable to read the tea leaves, pay attention, interpret the omens, trust what they see with their own eyes. Certainly, that would free up evil to do exactly as it pleases without interference as is happening in full color 3-D wherever you look or don't look because who really wants to believe the situation will never get any better before our time is up? That's where religion comes in, candidates and celebrities, the political and the powerful - as a diversion, a grasping at hope, the heroin of placebos and as John Micheal Greer points out "lullabies" sung to us while evil plots to rule the Universe. He was speaking of green self-help books, but of course, those are only profit-venued substitutes applying themselves to the popularity of mass paranoia. When the situation began to crack, most of you reading here today were already aware of it and what did you do? Vote? Made a drive-thru deposit into your bank account? Filled your sheath of prescriptions? Waited in the Wal*Mart cashier lines? Even as the black boxes did what they wanted, still you secretly hoped, following the dictates of your representative-self? Even though you'd read the tea leaves seemingly accurately, even though you'd been online well over a decade or more ... searching, reading, commenting, obviously little if anything you thought you'd learned stuck. Maybe you said to yourself "Something is missing, there must be something else?"
We have a few FYI items that I have not seen on the
Since we started looking, its always been obvious we have too many people on this planet. It reminds me of what can occur when you are caught in a stampeding crowd, anything can happen. Sure, you are fortunate to escape with your life intact, but later on you begin to perceive that everything changed and it isn't going back to anything you ever knew. We are now literally strangers in a strange land. This is not helped by certain bloggers who put up scare links that lead you to stories that mention only a vague possibility referring to the original scare headline you followed. It is worsened faster than the situation worsens by itself to have some think one thing, others think another until there is no cohesion to what we know or don't know. Doing that is abetting evil. For what? To increase readership who will buy into their blog ads? Well, hey, then say so up front so we stop wasting our time. There is not much left that has not been tainted. Maybe a few uninhabitable spots somewhere on the globe where no profit is available, but will be when a technology comes along that mines money from frozen dirt. Although, there is now a start up attempting to bottle glacier melt. Note I say "attempting", as in "possibility". Yet, what is really happening is hidden in plain sight. If we go back in time, how many know where Karzai came from? How can these world leaders allow themselves to be jerked around while their countries are bulldozed by drones and Abrams tanks and 99% of their already indigent population has no idea why? Meanwhile in the superpower, everyone you speak to hasn't any better grasp on the situation, either. You have to wonder how the meetings between these leaders unfold. Do they speak to each other daily? Hang out together during the off times? Who is working for whom? This is ludicrous, isn't it. A fake leader shows up three times at peace talks and vanishes with his personal appearance cash. Little people like us (and the victims) cannot understand what passes for leadership now. Its too ugly, too cheap, too far-fetched and always morphing into lame paperbacks with cumbersome finales. All of it a monumental waste of humanity, an erasure of all that came before such world leaders egotistically make their mark only to see that mark liquidated under the next generation of world leaders.
Honestly, how can we count our blessings on Thanksgiving as the annihilation of humanity/animalia/natural resources/environmental catastrophe escalates on the bloodiest, most unimaginably brutal scale ever while financial wars take down what remains standing through globewide economic shock? What blessings? Piece by piece, brick by brick our lives are being intentionally dismantled as has happened throughout history it is happening now in the centrifugal force carny ride of overpopulation and growing ever larger by the minute. This much is easily recognizable in spite of lullabies.
We are, for the most part, good people, well-intentioned and ineffectual against the tides. Our flaw is our goodness. History was his/her story, not ours, but examine the parallels to your own existence and that of how our planet is disintegrating and it begins to form something solid verging on truth. You can spend the remainder of your journey seeking an answer, but the truth will hide until you are ready to understand. There is something bigger that we can't see now. We are too easily distracted and the distractions are incessantly increasing by design. We get in the way of that which we seek. If the reality of what is happening suddenly came upon us, we would be unable to hold the thought, perhaps we are not supposed to know because such understanding is too cruel, too cold and holds no lasting appeal.
Everyone likes to have something to look forward to, but what happens when there is nothing but exponential evil to come and you know it? What then? You simply continue exactly as you are, priced out of existence, elbowing for breath, lost in a sea of threats and dire possibilities, but at least you are alive, or are you? At some point, you will consider that issue, the severity and rapidity of the worsening crises demands you examine everything. At this point in the revealing, what else will present itself?
I don't expect everyone to read all the links, but if you do not visit them, you do your intellect disservice.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
As the world implodes
First up, I read that the mood swinging BofA has decided to go ahead and displace more families swaggeringly confident they are in the right to do so. Their long legal arms must have assured them they've got it covered. We'll soon find out how as this latest 911 works its way through the courts. Between you and me, I've known all along there was something fishy going on because there was a chart published in the LA Times made by Realtytrac that showed all the homes in foreclosure with the typically horizontal red line zigging up a little and zagging down a little until year 2007 where that red line went straight up through the top of the chart - off the charts indeed. I saved it and looked for it many times since, but it was lost in the hard drive meltdown from last year and appears to be deleted from media archives. The past week's staggering revelations about the legalities of the paperwork on property ownership renewed my study of the situation and discovered the problems coincide with the advent of MERS. Shocking. Not. Of course you know about MERS.
Right away, you get the picture, technology (progress, growth, electronic TRACKING) eavesdrops again, without warrants. Corporations don't need warrants? When personhood doesn't need a warrant, perhaps they can just make some citizens arrests? Hey, its not really spying, naw. An elephantine disaster has re-emerged that We the People must be responsible for cleaning up, no one has said this but that is the only way it will ever be resolved exactly as everything else is resolved, the burden of proof and the burdens of the poor pitted against huge could-care-less giants require WE have to stand over their shoulders and physically point out what is wrong with this and what to do about it and do it. We the People do not have an in house crack legal team waiting in our backyard sheds. Now all these human beings affected by this disaster are on the bandwidth all the time desperately looking for answers when the answer was there all along. While MERS is not Angelo Mozilo, MERS part in this crisis is telling: Suddenly there rose on the horizon a roster of all the humans in houses and malls. Now when you want to be very, very wealthy, all you have to do is buy the lists and pick a few obvious marks. Start with unemployed, non-English speakers and so forth. And when that kind of marksmanship runs dry, why you can switch right over to CRE of which the entire landscape of North America has been filled-in as convenience services for all the barrel-tiled gated communities with central vacs in every room.
Does anyone recall how excited the real estate industry was when they'd been trawling the populace for more potential home purchasers and proudly announced their new targets were to be single mothers and illegal immigrants? For so many, it was love at first site.
While I'm at it, I credit Charles for his introduction to MERS. Its so perfect a tool for the Bankers it could go down in history as important as the Pasteurization of cows' milk. It is where we are going with everything, and in this I include the preferred customer discount card readers, credit card records, electronic medical records, etc., all of which give rise to yes, identity theft because as nice an employee as Joe Schmoe appears, you never really know who you are dealing with until its too late and as with Robo Signers, former burger flippers, it was too late on the grandest scale ever. And you thought Choicepoint was something. Wake up. Ice Nine time.
Many blogs and real news sites are working this one, so visit them and get informed. I'm not a news site really and the whole thing tends to nauseate me. When are they going to bloody knock off this shit? It is a miracle of God I am not in that world at all. What l've read and seen is replayed over and over every bi-monthly trip into a tiny, but densely populated area for supplies and still it brings on nausea. I see it live playing out among the people, many of whom think problem solving consists of forgetting about the problem and driving faster and more dangerously to get nowhere.The weirdest are usually in front of the box store which has taken to putting a quick-sale section in their oversize and empty parking lot. There wandering in a daze, are the snaggle toothed in flip flops with curlers and their daughters and vacuous husbands arms loaded with dollar plastic junk and family size bags of potato chips. Guess they're not cutting back. For people who have been poor all their lives, nothing has changed, however, inflation followed by hyperinflation will change all that. Where will they go? Some of the farmers sold their livestock because they could no longer afford the feed. When people get raw to the bone, when there is nothing left to sell, then we are in Migrant Mother territory with a company store where you can owe your soul. Yes, I will paint it. Now these new Okies, formerly home owning innocents caught in someones idea of oneupsmanship, could be anybody from anywhere so all the rules still apply. I.e.; some still won't get it. Order will have to be maintained, so Darth and Erik will have their people on the scene just in case you were romanticizing about freedom at last.
What is going on in France, in its 6th day, are some very angry human beings gathering and holding signs in large numbers because the retirement age is being raised meaning delayed expectations. It is interesting these protesters are being labeled as dock and refinery workers and any article you read soothingly explains in the ending paragraphs they have many ships waiting to offload plenty of fuel oil, yet, planes are diverted from landing and many gas stations dry. Hmmmm. It wouldn't be that some of the protesters are fuel oil people and some of them are everybody else that sees trying to survive on reduced pensions with severely limited fuel supplies spells the end of any creature comfort no matter how small?
... Fuel shortage fears
They could be us. In the not too distant future. One thing we do not have in common with the Great Depression is the end of easy oil. I am convinced everything that is a crisis and the reason it is mushrooming is because we are past peak, which some would compare to our Saigon moment, but again, it is not comparable as we are witness to the slow death of humanity/integrity, lost in an electronic detour on the way to self-extinction. Worse, all along we knew it did not have to be that way. There was a better way, just not corrupt enough to satisfy the representative-selves of the courtiers currying the King's favor, the King's representative-self, of course, being under the delusion he was high born. High-born. Heh. That will make lots of difference when we're all gone.
I tell you what: they would do anything
To materialize their every wish....
from Guiltiness by Bob Marley | Exodus LP
From Wiki:
... MERS (Mortgage Electronic Registration Systems) ... is a privately held company that operates an electronic registry designed to track servicing rights and ownership of mortgage loans in the United States.[1]
MERS role in facilitating mortgage trading was relatively uncontroversial in its early days a decade ago but continued fallout from the subprime mortgage crisis has put MERS at the center of several legal challenges disputing the company's right to initiate foreclosures. Should these challenges succeed, the US banking industry could face a renewed need for capitalization.[4] ...
Right away, you get the picture, technology (progress, growth, electronic TRACKING) eavesdrops again, without warrants. Corporations don't need warrants? When personhood doesn't need a warrant, perhaps they can just make some citizens arrests? Hey, its not really spying, naw. An elephantine disaster has re-emerged that We the People must be responsible for cleaning up, no one has said this but that is the only way it will ever be resolved exactly as everything else is resolved, the burden of proof and the burdens of the poor pitted against huge could-care-less giants require WE have to stand over their shoulders and physically point out what is wrong with this and what to do about it and do it. We the People do not have an in house crack legal team waiting in our backyard sheds. Now all these human beings affected by this disaster are on the bandwidth all the time desperately looking for answers when the answer was there all along. While MERS is not Angelo Mozilo, MERS part in this crisis is telling: Suddenly there rose on the horizon a roster of all the humans in houses and malls. Now when you want to be very, very wealthy, all you have to do is buy the lists and pick a few obvious marks. Start with unemployed, non-English speakers and so forth. And when that kind of marksmanship runs dry, why you can switch right over to CRE of which the entire landscape of North America has been filled-in as convenience services for all the barrel-tiled gated communities with central vacs in every room.
Does anyone recall how excited the real estate industry was when they'd been trawling the populace for more potential home purchasers and proudly announced their new targets were to be single mothers and illegal immigrants? For so many, it was love at first site.
While I'm at it, I credit Charles for his introduction to MERS. Its so perfect a tool for the Bankers it could go down in history as important as the Pasteurization of cows' milk. It is where we are going with everything, and in this I include the preferred customer discount card readers, credit card records, electronic medical records, etc., all of which give rise to yes, identity theft because as nice an employee as Joe Schmoe appears, you never really know who you are dealing with until its too late and as with Robo Signers, former burger flippers, it was too late on the grandest scale ever. And you thought Choicepoint was something. Wake up. Ice Nine time.
Many blogs and real news sites are working this one, so visit them and get informed. I'm not a news site really and the whole thing tends to nauseate me. When are they going to bloody knock off this shit? It is a miracle of God I am not in that world at all. What l've read and seen is replayed over and over every bi-monthly trip into a tiny, but densely populated area for supplies and still it brings on nausea. I see it live playing out among the people, many of whom think problem solving consists of forgetting about the problem and driving faster and more dangerously to get nowhere.The weirdest are usually in front of the box store which has taken to putting a quick-sale section in their oversize and empty parking lot. There wandering in a daze, are the snaggle toothed in flip flops with curlers and their daughters and vacuous husbands arms loaded with dollar plastic junk and family size bags of potato chips. Guess they're not cutting back. For people who have been poor all their lives, nothing has changed, however, inflation followed by hyperinflation will change all that. Where will they go? Some of the farmers sold their livestock because they could no longer afford the feed. When people get raw to the bone, when there is nothing left to sell, then we are in Migrant Mother territory with a company store where you can owe your soul. Yes, I will paint it. Now these new Okies, formerly home owning innocents caught in someones idea of oneupsmanship, could be anybody from anywhere so all the rules still apply. I.e.; some still won't get it. Order will have to be maintained, so Darth and Erik will have their people on the scene just in case you were romanticizing about freedom at last.
What is going on in France, in its 6th day, are some very angry human beings gathering and holding signs in large numbers because the retirement age is being raised meaning delayed expectations. It is interesting these protesters are being labeled as dock and refinery workers and any article you read soothingly explains in the ending paragraphs they have many ships waiting to offload plenty of fuel oil, yet, planes are diverted from landing and many gas stations dry. Hmmmm. It wouldn't be that some of the protesters are fuel oil people and some of them are everybody else that sees trying to survive on reduced pensions with severely limited fuel supplies spells the end of any creature comfort no matter how small?
... Fuel shortage fears
Since September 27, strikes against pension and port reforms at oil depots in the south of the country have left 63 oil, gas and chemical tankers waiting off the Mediterranean coast, Marseille port authorities said. ...
Strikes put pressure on petrol and diesel supplies across the country, notably when supplies to Paris's regional and international airports were cut on Friday, but the pipelines running south from Le Havre were reportedly working again by late on Saturday. ...
Christine Lagarde, the economy minister, urged people not to panic over petrol supplies, as the country had ample stocks for now. ..."We have reserves," she told France's RTL radio, adding supply problems had affected 230 petrol stations out of a total 13,000 in the country. "People mustn't panic."...
Police were able to break up blockades at three fuel depots in southern France, easing some of the pressure at petrol stations, but that has not eased fears of a fuel shortage.
"People are panic buying. We’ve seen long lines of motorists queuing at filling stations," Al Jazeera's Harry Smith, reporting from Paris, said. ...
Lorry drivers are heavyweights in the realm of French protest movements and have announced their intention to join the protests. ...
Maxime Dumont, the head of the CFDT union's lorry drivers' section, said drivers could block fuel depots and food warehouses and clog roads by driving slowly.
Trash collectors in Marseille have also joined in the strikes, burning rubbish in the streets. ...
They could be us. In the not too distant future. One thing we do not have in common with the Great Depression is the end of easy oil. I am convinced everything that is a crisis and the reason it is mushrooming is because we are past peak, which some would compare to our Saigon moment, but again, it is not comparable as we are witness to the slow death of humanity/integrity, lost in an electronic detour on the way to self-extinction. Worse, all along we knew it did not have to be that way. There was a better way, just not corrupt enough to satisfy the representative-selves of the courtiers currying the King's favor, the King's representative-self, of course, being under the delusion he was high born. High-born. Heh. That will make lots of difference when we're all gone.
... These are the big fish
Who always try to eat down the small fish,
just the small fish.I tell you what: they would do anything
To materialize their every wish....
from Guiltiness by Bob Marley | Exodus LP
Thursday, October 14, 2010
an evening in the Revealing
It is disturbing to see what is happening with the elections coming up on my geographic horizon. The subscription TV which the fireteacher pays good money for out of his hard-earned chipster cheque is showing Arnie Terminator/Twins flicks through the night, every night. Hey dudes, where's my Battle of Algiers, my Wild Pacific, my Spike Lee post-Katrina documentary? No question over which side the satellite hovers. How much did THAT cost?
And just where was Arnold while Georgio Armani Angelo Mozilo displaced the citizenry of our nation, quickly bleeding across the oceans destroying the peace of mind of westernized peoples worldwide? (Think on that name: country-wide for a minute, ah such grandiose fantasies of pre-Elizabethan professional executioners have nothing on what heights are reached in our new millennium. (In fact, the Elizabethan age was one followed by many years of peace and prosperity, it is well known the Virgin Queen loved her people more than herself.) It wasn't so long ago we had Gray Davis as governor who apparently bombed with the populace despite Enron's miserable meatless ending. The press ran Gray through the shredder under pressure from the you-know-whos. The press runs everybody through the shredder now since its their job to shred regardless of pressure. You see, they learned their lessons well. For shame. The truth is nobody can run this place, or any place, definitely not Meg Whitman, heh, just wait till she meets up with the local fruits & nuts overpopulating the west coast or worse, has to balance the state budget, the classic gubernatorial demise. As soon as budget time rolls around, the shredder starts humming and it hums along through years and years of tears. And, yes, Whitman's already denying her personal nannygate, exposed by none other than her X'd illegal immigrant housekeeper, but what really got me was something she said quite a while ago which was "I believe marriage is between a man and a woman." She really said it. Everything that came after that might as well have fallen on deaf ears, the blow was struck, the character naked for all to see and mind you, do we really want more X or "on leave to serve at the pleasure" CEOs in government? No thanks, Meg, I won't be voting. I will be among the millions all of you and yours lost with your expensive press-released, personhooded campaigns blessed by our highest court. We have been burned so many times in state and national elections why ask for it outright? Hey, gimme more idyllic penury huh? And a little less room to just be, why don't ya? Fruits and nuts don't eat. Yes, I know, voting is my Constitutional right to exercise so I exercise my right to protest by withholding. The question is: Do we prefer a candidate who lies all through the campaign or one who lies all though his/her tenure in office? That's like saying we have a choice, isn't it, paper or plastic...
Oh well, nina, you could vote for Brown, right? No. His aide (um hmm) called Meg a whore. I guess its the dirty politicking, the displays of concealed corruption and vast amounts of money spent on self promotion all the while attempting to hide one's true character. All that money could be put to SUCH good use on improvement of the state and country and our species' survival. For shame, again. Are these people human beings or holograms or socio-hybrid aliens? You tell me.
On my sojourns through God's Kingdom lately, the landscape is littered with peeling, weather-beaten campaign signs. I try to get away from it and go deeper, farther and leave it behind where the neighboring mountains appear grey-green at the base, a lighter green-grey behind it and a higher, pale lavender grey-green ridge in the far distance. Mist rises from the base of the far lavender ridge graduating to deeper grey at the top where it meets the clouds. The mist means fog is coming on which means summer is over, winter opened its window and frost lies on the ground at dawn. Its just a quick slide into wood gathering, stacking, hauling into the fireplace from there, although we never got started so early before. I keep my eye on it. First snow is always on Thanksgiving, but this year it could happen any day. The Elk began bugling at the end of August. That never happened so early before either. Actually, this is a wonderful thing because the cold, wet night air (humidity) limits the probability of wildfires. Lastly, as was the case in 2009, the Juncos are late by many weeks. The weather conditions must be just right for them to make the journey south and apparently, it is not. I think in my mind its the air quality. The belching filth of big agra is easily mistaken for fog coming through the passes. Indeed, it is that surreal. It was not always that way. I remember. I made notes in my Smithsonian guides.
The housing, foreclosure, low - if any - new home sales crisis reminds me of the GOM crisis. The blowout preventer was broken as it was broken in the market crisis, or the credit crisis, or the ... etc.. Sort of like 911 too, each crisis militarily industrializes afterwards. We keep having 911 disasters with eternal effects upending the previous story. We know from reading stories there must be an ending somewhere, but there isn't. Most everyone is still living the old story whether they are an unrepentant shopaholic or a Nigerian child selling sodapop in the mud to the pipeline police. Even when attempts are made to reform corruption, the corrupt make the new story instantly throwing everyone and everything into deeper, darker, more terrifying and uncertain futures and still the story goes on. The ever-changing, ever-enlarging story is a way of life now, as if the anomalies of the present are all that ever was or will be.
The courts are already backlogged, imagine what sheaths of complaint are hitting the desks today from all those who were foreclosed and evicted or threatened with the process, and all those who bought those foreclosed dwellings, ahem, illegally? What a scene: the angry millions forcing their ways through the McMansion doors demanding their homes back from alarmed young couples feeding baby number one in the breakfast nook? What are they gonna do in this economy, double up? Oh why not, they'll learn to get along just like we do, but they won't be happy about it until they win their lawsuits. As we watch an entire new industry is being born, the graduation of Robo Signers to Paper Seekers tasked with unwrapping all the CDOs and sifting through xeroxes of xeroxes to find something that is probably lying under the mattress in Polanski's chalet if it actually exists, legitimate titles of home ownership and legitimate titles to commercial properties that is, not the mattress. We only know one thing for sure at this point and that is: Everyone has again stepped on yet another rung of the Apocalypse ladder where nothing is what it seemed and all hell is breaking loose from the shylocks to the cowboys on bar stools looking for love in all the wrong places. There's a big range in between consisting of the colorful variety of Planetary Citizens.
There are many things I can handle as weird and strange as some things are, because I am not in that world. It does not concern me or the immediate members of this existence. The man, me, the Guinea Pig, the Dogs, these are the beings whose interests are my interests. The relatives and our children are the collective ribbons that complete the package.
Have you ever thought about being a survivor from a shipwreck, floating on a very small section of what is left of the lifeboat's hull, whom out of all those faces treading water would you reach for?
On the other hand, when it comes to causing deliberate pain to our people in the larger sense, it burns, it scathes, it maims for life and kills as it does all victims whether they know what is happening or not and this is not acceptable. One day its a feeling, then its a blurb at a news site, by evening the blurbs have their own wiki page. And then, like the dark season, suddenly its upon us full steam ahead and we rearrange our existence again. Suffering can be very good when you can, if you can, compare it to other states yet that also is being denied wherever possible.
Cufflinks photo: Mark Wilson/Getty Images N.A.: Angelo Mozilo, founder and former CEO, Countrywide Financial Corporation, testifying during a House Oversight and Government Reform hearing ... examining the compensation and retirement packages granted to the CEOs of corporations deeply involved in the current mortgage crisis.
And just where was Arnold while Oh well, nina, you could vote for Brown, right? No. His aide (um hmm) called Meg a whore. I guess its the dirty politicking, the displays of concealed corruption and vast amounts of money spent on self promotion all the while attempting to hide one's true character. All that money could be put to SUCH good use on improvement of the state and country and our species' survival. For shame, again. Are these people human beings or holograms or socio-hybrid aliens? You tell me.
The housing, foreclosure, low - if any - new home sales crisis reminds me of the GOM crisis. The blowout preventer was broken as it was broken in the market crisis, or the credit crisis, or the ... etc.. Sort of like 911 too, each crisis militarily industrializes afterwards. We keep having 911 disasters with eternal effects upending the previous story. We know from reading stories there must be an ending somewhere, but there isn't. Most everyone is still living the old story whether they are an unrepentant shopaholic or a Nigerian child selling sodapop in the mud to the pipeline police. Even when attempts are made to reform corruption, the corrupt make the new story instantly throwing everyone and everything into deeper, darker, more terrifying and uncertain futures and still the story goes on. The ever-changing, ever-enlarging story is a way of life now, as if the anomalies of the present are all that ever was or will be.
The courts are already backlogged, imagine what sheaths of complaint are hitting the desks today from all those who were foreclosed and evicted or threatened with the process, and all those who bought those foreclosed dwellings, ahem, illegally? What a scene: the angry millions forcing their ways through the McMansion doors demanding their homes back from alarmed young couples feeding baby number one in the breakfast nook? What are they gonna do in this economy, double up? Oh why not, they'll learn to get along just like we do, but they won't be happy about it until they win their lawsuits. As we watch an entire new industry is being born, the graduation of Robo Signers to Paper Seekers tasked with unwrapping all the CDOs and sifting through xeroxes of xeroxes to find something that is probably lying under the mattress in Polanski's chalet if it actually exists, legitimate titles of home ownership and legitimate titles to commercial properties that is, not the mattress. We only know one thing for sure at this point and that is: Everyone has again stepped on yet another rung of the Apocalypse ladder where nothing is what it seemed and all hell is breaking loose from the shylocks to the cowboys on bar stools looking for love in all the wrong places. There's a big range in between consisting of the colorful variety of Planetary Citizens.
There are many things I can handle as weird and strange as some things are, because I am not in that world. It does not concern me or the immediate members of this existence. The man, me, the Guinea Pig, the Dogs, these are the beings whose interests are my interests. The relatives and our children are the collective ribbons that complete the package.
Have you ever thought about being a survivor from a shipwreck, floating on a very small section of what is left of the lifeboat's hull, whom out of all those faces treading water would you reach for?
On the other hand, when it comes to causing deliberate pain to our people in the larger sense, it burns, it scathes, it maims for life and kills as it does all victims whether they know what is happening or not and this is not acceptable. One day its a feeling, then its a blurb at a news site, by evening the blurbs have their own wiki page. And then, like the dark season, suddenly its upon us full steam ahead and we rearrange our existence again. Suffering can be very good when you can, if you can, compare it to other states yet that also is being denied wherever possible.
Cufflinks photo: Mark Wilson/Getty Images N.A.: Angelo Mozilo, founder and former CEO, Countrywide Financial Corporation, testifying during a House Oversight and Government Reform hearing ... examining the compensation and retirement packages granted to the CEOs of corporations deeply involved in the current mortgage crisis.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
What are we doing?
One day I just won't do this anymore. Call me a self-hating blogger. Considering the amount of time spent surfing during a typical week, my headstone will read "nina, Blogger", that is if I get a headstone vs. an Amadeus paupers' crater. And yet, that would not be a bad thing. It would be a terrible thing to be buried in steel and gilded plastic. AGHHHHH. The contents of such expensive, claustrophobic casing doesn't allow the body to break down naturally into the process required to complete the journey above ground as one rejoins with Mother Earth's system. How thrilling it would be to have memory during the process and find myself a lucky acorn fallen into some undisturbed pasture in wet weather. And equally as wonderful, to be carted away in a horse drawn wagon, clip clops in the mud on a dark rainy day. I hope to watch it pass in the mist.
We're right where they want us and we're doing what we're supposed to be doing, at home, with our valued family values and spoiled pets which have a cute way of being beloved boats with holes. We're watching a million channels of all corporate marketing models - all the time TV and pouring our angst into blogs on our breaks from the blitz. The calm before the storm? Not if you actually read entertainment newslinks as if the protagonist was your next door neighbor. You reported him, huh? Who goes to theaters anymore? The convenience culture has squeezed itself into a home appliance. An electric wok. Ah, you might put away that electric can opener sitting over there on your granite countertop (cough cough). Its a little much for more than a few fragile megachurch enthusiasts.
After a post has been up say, around four days, I'm doing something else - and why not? I know and you know there is something terribly unnatural with the totality of life consisting of technology. When I get busy with the new horse down the road, making friends and feeding carrots, its ludicrous to break away just to open up the plastic box again. There is no end to the things I can do around here, like pondering the sage.
I found out tonight that horse is named Chip. nice. He could have been my consort in a past life. An older Appie, his spots moved to his face and trunk as he matured. We'd been calling him Freckles. Those spots are Dalmation-like, my favorite pattern. This is a guy I can talk to. I am quite serious, he pulls the angry whinny thing if I don't visit daily. Here is how I got him on my friend list: I brought him some 3rd cut Timothy hay I keep around for my elder Guinea Pig. Its hot stuff, Alfalfa hay is about as exciting as it gets for horses, the hay I brought appears to have affected him like fresh Coconut water and herb would effect us.
There's been a lot of talk about California legalizing pot. Its made it to the voting ballot. Heh. You are free to interpret that cynical Heh any way you want. Prediction: In less than one decade, it will be as common as viagra ads, with similar concerns tranched inside the romance scene.
A few years ago, some officially sponsored hikers found what was officially claimed to be the official original sage in one of our biggest official southwest deserts, apparently it was massive and did what sages do, spawned seeds in a circle around itself which prompted all the spawned little sage-lings to sprout in the same fashion until a mammoth circular ocean of sage spread into the foothills and up and down the mountainsides. Now, millenia later, we have sage canyons and sage flanks. Sage is THE moisture stealer par excellence, more brittle and hardy than competing species, and usually wins the competition for water unless a bulldozer comes along and flattens the land for development which is known as disturbing the land. Disturbed land can be good, as in dozers carving out firebreaks in grassland, evacuation routes and encircling wildfires as parts of containment strategy. However, disturbed land also creates habitat for unwanted species, such as fire ants who have taken to building underground tunnels floating a pavement ceiling, curbs and man-made structures, i.e.; home slabs, barns and outbuildings, strip malls, whole towns, extended cities underneath cities and suburbs, exurbs all the way into out there, deep into fallow pastures and rugged terrain far from the elbowing crowds.
The squirrels enjoy every area where the ants haven't built, employing a similar system of underground connections including personal sleeping pods connected to the great room. They are equally as industrious as the ants. There is life moving around, building, foraging and populating just underneath a thin layer of dirt and vegetation, all of it in competition with each other for survival. We're not really counting the birds' nests in the grasses, but we are counting prairie dogs, moles, voles, mice and gophers, centipedes and other underground/burrowing species.
Peak oil and the financial collapse don't really matter to survival. Throughout the world there are some cultures who have never experienced the glories of the industrial revolution and at the rate they are being eliminated, they never will. Surely the Yanamano tribes of Rio Amazona and its tributaries are on the to-do list. Anyone and everything not enamored with debtors' fever and petro sludge and its by-products, is being annihilated if not by spills and blowouts, by takeover, or as in COIN, counter insurgency i.e.; merger/hostile takeover. If the Earth hangs on another century, Saudi Arabia has potential to be the last standing superpower running this show (perhaps they already possess that distinction? There are many good arguments for thinking that) with backup from Russia's and Bolivia's fresh water resources. So who are WE? What ARE we? These are bold, sweeping questions, but as usual, I'm not concerned with the day to day, tomorrow and tomorrow creeps at this petty pace political details, rather a bigger picture taking into account what really matters for humanity's survival, beyond convenience and the remote control weeding out of everything standing in the way of the reach of Corporatocracy. What happens on the ground is how it is, that much we're forced to divine on our own. Obviously, there is nothing we can do about it either, no matter how many online links to anthropogenic mass destruction, extinctions, slow death, displacement, loss of livelihood and morality's demise. As many of you have commented, "What can we do?" The Earth is never still, cycling through stages of development on a timetable of its own, of course this latest turn of events would come about, and we, along with all life, will adapt as we are doing without realizing it. We are not conscious of the movement of the Earth as we live upon it, either. Learning creates change, educated change and because we have so much occupying our minds, it seems barely noticeable, if at all. Try to keep in mind we are still coming out from under having our brains malfunctioned in Bizarro World. Nothing happens all at once - and something is always happening.
I didn't read the news today, oh boy. I don't feel like messing up the morning with catastrophic horrors and scary tea parties. The news is just more torture, designed to threaten and phobiatize readers. You get the feeling its a softening up the target as if EVERY ONE in a decision making capacity knows exactly what you know and manipulates fact to fit agenda so that fact is falsehood. Try justifying your way through that. Its not easy unless you are Thomas Cromwell, First Earl of Essex, or fortunate to have some out-of-the-blue, blessed sartorial moment of truth in which clarity of thought prevails. Until such a moment occurs, all of us live in a subliminally depressed state of partial awareness knowing some things, the remainder elusive. That we do not know more is guilt inducing in having placed trust in beliefs that show themselves to be wishful thinking. In times like this, it is comforting to bathe one's being in bolanath's grandmothers' healing Net of Light.
While pondering sage oceans it came to me the reason we fail as a species is buried guilt. "So what?" we say, guilt is for criminals who deserve and receive justice, end of story. This gets confusing because media's definition of guilt is reserved for those who commit acts of wrongdoing. Our language partnering with pundits has co-opted depth of analysis, for example, the concepts of justice and wrongdoing. When I think of those words, it always brings Shirley Jackson's short story, The Lottery (p. 1948) to mind. As long as white people harbor guilt, the lotteries of life continue, suspended in wait are the crowd pleasing stone throwers eager to bury their bredren. The Wahabbi stonings are just us, or the former us before self-education, out in front of the frosting and lace put on justice and wrongdoing. Since the western world carries mountains of buried guilt for having massacred, executed, tortured, threatened, renditioned, lied and stolen property throughout recorded history, the western majority cannot and will not tolerate the weight of that guilt and must dispose of those free from denial of stoning or distortion of intent and action. In other words, if you speak what you see, you are not tolerated because you are naming blame, not owning blame. The real blame then remains stuck in denial aka defense of imaginary concepts such as states, borders, rules on movement, being in love with ideas of division which have no basis in reality. One Love.
Into this world we are born, little sagelings thirsting for survival, spawning and sprouting our ways though time, a blink in the eye of our planet which somehow survives us, minimalizes us, we are Aborigines looking into the sky waiting for God's care package to this day.
Behind each seed a string of seemingly small, but meaningful actions taken, involuntarily, and worse, actions not taken at all, guilt builds for participation in the competition for survival in nothing more than an ego construct. It would help if we just dropped the pretense and spoke in semi-monosyllables, to ourselves and to the Universe. I'm sorry. I love you. I never wanted to hurt anything, nothing! The real wrongdoing here is how few get that AND live it. You think the SCOTUS can fix that with justice?
artwork: Fritz in Hibernation
transparent watercolor inks on Arches
18" x 24" | 2005
concept c. Helga Sermat
We're right where they want us and we're doing what we're supposed to be doing, at home, with our valued family values and spoiled pets which have a cute way of being beloved boats with holes. We're watching a million channels of all corporate marketing models - all the time TV and pouring our angst into blogs on our breaks from the blitz. The calm before the storm? Not if you actually read entertainment newslinks as if the protagonist was your next door neighbor. You reported him, huh? Who goes to theaters anymore? The convenience culture has squeezed itself into a home appliance. An electric wok. Ah, you might put away that electric can opener sitting over there on your granite countertop (cough cough). Its a little much for more than a few fragile megachurch enthusiasts.
After a post has been up say, around four days, I'm doing something else - and why not? I know and you know there is something terribly unnatural with the totality of life consisting of technology. When I get busy with the new horse down the road, making friends and feeding carrots, its ludicrous to break away just to open up the plastic box again. There is no end to the things I can do around here, like pondering the sage.I found out tonight that horse is named Chip. nice. He could have been my consort in a past life. An older Appie, his spots moved to his face and trunk as he matured. We'd been calling him Freckles. Those spots are Dalmation-like, my favorite pattern. This is a guy I can talk to. I am quite serious, he pulls the angry whinny thing if I don't visit daily. Here is how I got him on my friend list: I brought him some 3rd cut Timothy hay I keep around for my elder Guinea Pig. Its hot stuff, Alfalfa hay is about as exciting as it gets for horses, the hay I brought appears to have affected him like fresh Coconut water and herb would effect us.
There's been a lot of talk about California legalizing pot. Its made it to the voting ballot. Heh. You are free to interpret that cynical Heh any way you want. Prediction: In less than one decade, it will be as common as viagra ads, with similar concerns tranched inside the romance scene.
A few years ago, some officially sponsored hikers found what was officially claimed to be the official original sage in one of our biggest official southwest deserts, apparently it was massive and did what sages do, spawned seeds in a circle around itself which prompted all the spawned little sage-lings to sprout in the same fashion until a mammoth circular ocean of sage spread into the foothills and up and down the mountainsides. Now, millenia later, we have sage canyons and sage flanks. Sage is THE moisture stealer par excellence, more brittle and hardy than competing species, and usually wins the competition for water unless a bulldozer comes along and flattens the land for development which is known as disturbing the land. Disturbed land can be good, as in dozers carving out firebreaks in grassland, evacuation routes and encircling wildfires as parts of containment strategy. However, disturbed land also creates habitat for unwanted species, such as fire ants who have taken to building underground tunnels floating a pavement ceiling, curbs and man-made structures, i.e.; home slabs, barns and outbuildings, strip malls, whole towns, extended cities underneath cities and suburbs, exurbs all the way into out there, deep into fallow pastures and rugged terrain far from the elbowing crowds.
The squirrels enjoy every area where the ants haven't built, employing a similar system of underground connections including personal sleeping pods connected to the great room. They are equally as industrious as the ants. There is life moving around, building, foraging and populating just underneath a thin layer of dirt and vegetation, all of it in competition with each other for survival. We're not really counting the birds' nests in the grasses, but we are counting prairie dogs, moles, voles, mice and gophers, centipedes and other underground/burrowing species.Peak oil and the financial collapse don't really matter to survival. Throughout the world there are some cultures who have never experienced the glories of the industrial revolution and at the rate they are being eliminated, they never will. Surely the Yanamano tribes of Rio Amazona and its tributaries are on the to-do list. Anyone and everything not enamored with debtors' fever and petro sludge and its by-products, is being annihilated if not by spills and blowouts, by takeover, or as in COIN, counter insurgency i.e.; merger/hostile takeover. If the Earth hangs on another century, Saudi Arabia has potential to be the last standing superpower running this show (perhaps they already possess that distinction? There are many good arguments for thinking that) with backup from Russia's and Bolivia's fresh water resources. So who are WE? What ARE we? These are bold, sweeping questions, but as usual, I'm not concerned with the day to day, tomorrow and tomorrow creeps at this petty pace political details, rather a bigger picture taking into account what really matters for humanity's survival, beyond convenience and the remote control weeding out of everything standing in the way of the reach of Corporatocracy. What happens on the ground is how it is, that much we're forced to divine on our own. Obviously, there is nothing we can do about it either, no matter how many online links to anthropogenic mass destruction, extinctions, slow death, displacement, loss of livelihood and morality's demise. As many of you have commented, "What can we do?" The Earth is never still, cycling through stages of development on a timetable of its own, of course this latest turn of events would come about, and we, along with all life, will adapt as we are doing without realizing it. We are not conscious of the movement of the Earth as we live upon it, either. Learning creates change, educated change and because we have so much occupying our minds, it seems barely noticeable, if at all. Try to keep in mind we are still coming out from under having our brains malfunctioned in Bizarro World. Nothing happens all at once - and something is always happening.
I didn't read the news today, oh boy. I don't feel like messing up the morning with catastrophic horrors and scary tea parties. The news is just more torture, designed to threaten and phobiatize readers. You get the feeling its a softening up the target as if EVERY ONE in a decision making capacity knows exactly what you know and manipulates fact to fit agenda so that fact is falsehood. Try justifying your way through that. Its not easy unless you are Thomas Cromwell, First Earl of Essex, or fortunate to have some out-of-the-blue, blessed sartorial moment of truth in which clarity of thought prevails. Until such a moment occurs, all of us live in a subliminally depressed state of partial awareness knowing some things, the remainder elusive. That we do not know more is guilt inducing in having placed trust in beliefs that show themselves to be wishful thinking. In times like this, it is comforting to bathe one's being in bolanath's grandmothers' healing Net of Light.
While pondering sage oceans it came to me the reason we fail as a species is buried guilt. "So what?" we say, guilt is for criminals who deserve and receive justice, end of story. This gets confusing because media's definition of guilt is reserved for those who commit acts of wrongdoing. Our language partnering with pundits has co-opted depth of analysis, for example, the concepts of justice and wrongdoing. When I think of those words, it always brings Shirley Jackson's short story, The Lottery (p. 1948) to mind. As long as white people harbor guilt, the lotteries of life continue, suspended in wait are the crowd pleasing stone throwers eager to bury their bredren. The Wahabbi stonings are just us, or the former us before self-education, out in front of the frosting and lace put on justice and wrongdoing. Since the western world carries mountains of buried guilt for having massacred, executed, tortured, threatened, renditioned, lied and stolen property throughout recorded history, the western majority cannot and will not tolerate the weight of that guilt and must dispose of those free from denial of stoning or distortion of intent and action. In other words, if you speak what you see, you are not tolerated because you are naming blame, not owning blame. The real blame then remains stuck in denial aka defense of imaginary concepts such as states, borders, rules on movement, being in love with ideas of division which have no basis in reality. One Love.
Into this world we are born, little sagelings thirsting for survival, spawning and sprouting our ways though time, a blink in the eye of our planet which somehow survives us, minimalizes us, we are Aborigines looking into the sky waiting for God's care package to this day.
Behind each seed a string of seemingly small, but meaningful actions taken, involuntarily, and worse, actions not taken at all, guilt builds for participation in the competition for survival in nothing more than an ego construct. It would help if we just dropped the pretense and spoke in semi-monosyllables, to ourselves and to the Universe. I'm sorry. I love you. I never wanted to hurt anything, nothing! The real wrongdoing here is how few get that AND live it. You think the SCOTUS can fix that with justice?
... All language is a system of symbology, that is, sounds strung together that mean something relating to the external reality we experience.The list of ego constructs grows in perfect proportion to humanity's helplessness. To acknowledge disingenuously or not to acknowledge at all is the greatest wrongdoing throughout history, our existence predefined for us, soap operatic in scope and lack of something real, where does one draw the line? Is anyone angry? Or, are our laptops the epitome of the addicts' compromise? Slowly, ever so gradually, we arrive at this point each in his own time. Tattered, torn, straddling the the chasm between the real and the great lie, we participate in slowing adaptation which spreads the guilt around enough to keep the big lie going, and growing, a little longer.
This symbology is unique to the individual person due to the fact that all of our individual experiences are normally unique events relating to the individual, with same exceptions. But, in almost all cases, the interpretation of those events will be different than other individuals sharing the event. This has been tested over and over again to the same conclusion. .... murph
artwork: Fritz in Hibernation
transparent watercolor inks on Arches
18" x 24" | 2005
concept c. Helga Sermat
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
sunglasses, thank you
At first, the revelation Macondo (The Macondo Prospect - Mississippi Canyon Block 252, abbreviated MC252) is actually an asphalt volcano beneficial to sea life brought a modicum of relief. But the part where sea life is murdered in the present only to be replaced in the distant future with sea life shown some kind of beneficience is illogical from a "What was wrong with our sea life in the first place" point of view. It sounds like Iraq, Afpak, Iran propaganda dressed in seaweed. We have to destroy them to make them better. Our leader did promise to rebuild the region better than it was before, did he not? It all depends on what better means, doesn't it. This is where I lost the logic. You see, I thought it was fine just as it was.
How it "was" turns out to be not how it really was and has not been for a very long time. All those little plotted specks in the sea are wannabe BPs and refining ops. Next time, it will be one of them in disaster as it often has been before and worse, as it has been for over 5o years in the Niger Delta. The child selling sodas in the photo at the left was not even born when it became commonplace, this is the whole world to her, likely the only one she will ever know. The older she gets, the worse it will get and maybe the whole reason she is alive at all. Her mother said you need to do something, I am dying, now get up, get out there, take care you don't linger. Not too far from now she will repeat her mother's words never having lived in any other place, never knowing anything else, never having done anything else. Have they all just accepted they are targeted for elimination so they can be replaced by something "better"? Not completely. They have been beaten down into a belief system of obedience among the oppressed-extreme in which any infrequent scrap that may fall into one's possession is reward enough. Scraps bring out the wild dogs. Empty bellies are only aggressive until they are in the weakened throes of starvation. This is our future. It may not be our future today or next year, but it is our future if nothing gets in the way. There is nothing stopping it from taking over as it is doing. You are free to disagree if you can.
It will not escape your attention that we could be talking about any resource rich geography anywhere on the planet. Whether or not its delivered by Macondo or the mining industry or any of the subsidiary support sharks, anywhere there exists an "opportunity" for extraction, the end result is the same. Endless war, endless blowouts, what's the diff? We move back to square one. These crises are all one crisis, however presented and sold, all that is different is merely in the eyes of the beholder made beholden by the MSM and more importantly, the characters of the reporting witnesses. Because, my friends, on the streets, they do not speak of crisis. They do not speak of peaks. They don't know or care about these events. Mostly, they are busy picking up the pieces of their lives as each pillar of existence as they knew it is ripped away. Their days are ruled by loss every day and wondering what to do about it, if anything. They have no vacancy for greater loss.
I've stopped reading many of the stories. You can count on most of them being another message about "blah blah blah ___ barrels leaking per day" in which the amounts were never as low as you were just about to read. Do you need to read more? Knock yourself out, but since these drillers can do what they want freely anywhere else in the world, they do not feel especially pressured to make the persnickety continent of North America into a special case. Again, they are showing us the future. Extraction today and tomorrow and tomorrow is dangerous and dirty work that pays so ridiculously well they feels it fully justifies the mess they make, casting aside all concern for others and for Nature. We saw it with Colony Collapse Disorder and we saw it in Utah where a number of trapped miners were simply buried alive and we see it with the sea life and the death and misery to come. This is the cost of doing business in Peak knowing all the while it cannot possibly last as species are extincting and myriad bubbles bursting far and wide resulting in disastrous consequences unfolding repeatedly across the entire planet. Ignore these costs of doing business and you make a deal with the devil. There has never been a good side to dealing with the devil, evil is destined to last only as long as no one knows what you are doing whether it is hidden for centuries or a day. Many still have no idea or concern, the happy talk has been pounded into their brains from birth cushioned by oversize comforts and chemical delusions. As westerners were lulled into thinking they could have it all, a vast desert of long-buried, ego-driven prejudice was reopened allowing the simpleminded to demean everyone that did not live or think as they do. We are better than them. We are smarter, richer, more clever, more equipped to survive and propagate the species. Ahem, how many times have I said "...when it is all gone, there will be none left for ANYONE at any price".
There must be great energy propelled by staggering riches, expended in the challenge of concealing actions that will unquestionably, eventually, shamefully be exposed to all. The game is to get as much by force while they can before the jig is up. Surely it is intense. It is the most amazing waste of time we will ever live to see take place. It may well be a World record breaker, possibly a Universal record in sheer arrogance. Who are these monsters dicking with our planet? They are global mob celebrities yanking us along unwittingly through their harrowing chapters of massive sorrow as if the tragedy they create were a magic mind-magnet. A large part of the game is our abject dismay. They need us as an audience as black needs white. Without us pointing out what they do, there is no game at all. Imagine that? There would be no plunder if no one saw theft as plunder. When they figure that out (and they may be close now) all the world will be a Niger Delta and there will be no more war, no media, no pundits, no courts, no small freedoms at all, just blackened lands and dead seas. You are either a weapons carrier or trapped in the mineshaft.
If you have read this far, you already know how it works. The longer you watch, the worse it becomes. Its only a matter of time before something crazier comes to the forefront just as soon as the ratings tell them the GOM is slipping somewhat.
We really do "go on". They have agencies to tell them whether or not we are interested. They will wrongly perceive a key to our attentions and pursue that too until its scheduled to graduate to the next level. Of course, you don't like it, but whether or not we approve is definitely not their concern. That much is more than clear.
How it "was" turns out to be not how it really was and has not been for a very long time. All those little plotted specks in the sea are wannabe BPs and refining ops. Next time, it will be one of them in disaster as it often has been before and worse, as it has been for over 5o years in the Niger Delta. The child selling sodas in the photo at the left was not even born when it became commonplace, this is the whole world to her, likely the only one she will ever know. The older she gets, the worse it will get and maybe the whole reason she is alive at all. Her mother said you need to do something, I am dying, now get up, get out there, take care you don't linger. Not too far from now she will repeat her mother's words never having lived in any other place, never knowing anything else, never having done anything else. Have they all just accepted they are targeted for elimination so they can be replaced by something "better"? Not completely. They have been beaten down into a belief system of obedience among the oppressed-extreme in which any infrequent scrap that may fall into one's possession is reward enough. Scraps bring out the wild dogs. Empty bellies are only aggressive until they are in the weakened throes of starvation. This is our future. It may not be our future today or next year, but it is our future if nothing gets in the way. There is nothing stopping it from taking over as it is doing. You are free to disagree if you can.
It will not escape your attention that we could be talking about any resource rich geography anywhere on the planet. Whether or not its delivered by Macondo or the mining industry or any of the subsidiary support sharks, anywhere there exists an "opportunity" for extraction, the end result is the same. Endless war, endless blowouts, what's the diff? We move back to square one. These crises are all one crisis, however presented and sold, all that is different is merely in the eyes of the beholder made beholden by the MSM and more importantly, the characters of the reporting witnesses. Because, my friends, on the streets, they do not speak of crisis. They do not speak of peaks. They don't know or care about these events. Mostly, they are busy picking up the pieces of their lives as each pillar of existence as they knew it is ripped away. Their days are ruled by loss every day and wondering what to do about it, if anything. They have no vacancy for greater loss.
I've stopped reading many of the stories. You can count on most of them being another message about "blah blah blah ___ barrels leaking per day" in which the amounts were never as low as you were just about to read. Do you need to read more? Knock yourself out, but since these drillers can do what they want freely anywhere else in the world, they do not feel especially pressured to make the persnickety continent of North America into a special case. Again, they are showing us the future. Extraction today and tomorrow and tomorrow is dangerous and dirty work that pays so ridiculously well they feels it fully justifies the mess they make, casting aside all concern for others and for Nature. We saw it with Colony Collapse Disorder and we saw it in Utah where a number of trapped miners were simply buried alive and we see it with the sea life and the death and misery to come. This is the cost of doing business in Peak knowing all the while it cannot possibly last as species are extincting and myriad bubbles bursting far and wide resulting in disastrous consequences unfolding repeatedly across the entire planet. Ignore these costs of doing business and you make a deal with the devil. There has never been a good side to dealing with the devil, evil is destined to last only as long as no one knows what you are doing whether it is hidden for centuries or a day. Many still have no idea or concern, the happy talk has been pounded into their brains from birth cushioned by oversize comforts and chemical delusions. As westerners were lulled into thinking they could have it all, a vast desert of long-buried, ego-driven prejudice was reopened allowing the simpleminded to demean everyone that did not live or think as they do. We are better than them. We are smarter, richer, more clever, more equipped to survive and propagate the species. Ahem, how many times have I said "...when it is all gone, there will be none left for ANYONE at any price".
There must be great energy propelled by staggering riches, expended in the challenge of concealing actions that will unquestionably, eventually, shamefully be exposed to all. The game is to get as much by force while they can before the jig is up. Surely it is intense. It is the most amazing waste of time we will ever live to see take place. It may well be a World record breaker, possibly a Universal record in sheer arrogance. Who are these monsters dicking with our planet? They are global mob celebrities yanking us along unwittingly through their harrowing chapters of massive sorrow as if the tragedy they create were a magic mind-magnet. A large part of the game is our abject dismay. They need us as an audience as black needs white. Without us pointing out what they do, there is no game at all. Imagine that? There would be no plunder if no one saw theft as plunder. When they figure that out (and they may be close now) all the world will be a Niger Delta and there will be no more war, no media, no pundits, no courts, no small freedoms at all, just blackened lands and dead seas. You are either a weapons carrier or trapped in the mineshaft.
If you have read this far, you already know how it works. The longer you watch, the worse it becomes. Its only a matter of time before something crazier comes to the forefront just as soon as the ratings tell them the GOM is slipping somewhat.
We really do "go on". They have agencies to tell them whether or not we are interested. They will wrongly perceive a key to our attentions and pursue that too until its scheduled to graduate to the next level. Of course, you don't like it, but whether or not we approve is definitely not their concern. That much is more than clear.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)