When my mother took her life, she took the life she had helped me build with her. Everything that was bright and exciting in my life was built on the steady foundation of her support and encouragement.
I do not know why she thought her death was a positive decision. Did she not have faith in me, as I had faith in her? Did she not believe that a mother and son are always such?
I struggle now for a heart to expose myself to, and find only indifference, sex, philosophy, vapid suggestions, poetry and an impenetrable apathy and nihilism.
What we call hope in this world is willful denial, blind adherence to preordained goals in an ever-changing and complex world.
What we call faith is a blind and violent destruction of everything truthful and real, a raising up of banalities and plastic figurines in defiance of the Supreme Divinity forever visible to those those brave enough to look.
What we call love hesitantly peeks through the routines of convenience and humour, terrified of the intensity and perversity and filthy nudity of a love that penetrates us everywhere - fiercely in a single shared moment - and doesn't necessarily result in contracts and domestic arrangements.
We fill our sadness with objects - not too beautiful, not too sexy - pathetic in their limits. Not to remind us of our best moments - exuberant, dangerous - authority and culture forgotten!
Before paranoia, before the ugliness and violence of the world became so unavoidably central, before fear of the world, I had a mother who believed in me, who knew what I knew, though our irrelevant thoughts were different. I had a life that stretched out into a future, out into a world - out into a world that would be breathless and impressed in my presence.
Now there is a pervasive silence and endless empty streets in identical cities all over the planet. Nowhere to go when everywhere is the same. Familiarity in the most extreme. No one to be shocked. No one to hold me unselfishly. No one I would go to unselfishly myself.
She made her decision, sucked her life out via the portal of a common poison. So common we all spew it out into the atmosphere every day. We all kill ourselves and each other little by little daily, pretending we're alive.
The world is dying and my mother told me with her own death.
She gave me life, love, hope, and then she cursed me with a lifetime in knowledge that we're all dead.
I can never forgive her, cos she's not here to forgive; I cannot resent her cos she's not here to resent.
There are seven billion humans on this planet and not one of them is my mother.
My father is a teenager. My best friends are all infants and I am supposed to pretend to be an adult.
I am an unweaned baby with no breast to suckle on.
The religions and entertainments my countrymen suckle make me sick. The dairy industry my nation is built on is not a viable source of nutrition. Eating and fasting make me feel equally disgusting. The houses I was raised in make me feel weak and humiliated.
She's dead and the son she knew is dead. There's a man sitting here, writing. A man she will never know.
2013-08-30
2013-08-22
To be free, unchained, naked, together, alive.
I have tried, in my way, to be free, unchained.
I expanded out from the cities, created the suburbs, where I could possess my own estate, deep in the ocean of nuclear families, their backyards and their lockable rooms. I paid no landlord, I owned my own home, though the bank submerged me in debt for decades of my short lifetime. Their arbitrary authority was sold to me like a noble charity; the charity of the hardworking. I am the Lord God of my own nation-state, numbered and geometrically mapped by city planners. My hands stink not of dirt and grease, but of disinfectant.
I feel an all-encompassing love for everyone around me, but it is heavily encumbered with the futility of my financial culture. Everything I want is obscured by the price tags on objects to clutter and confuse my life. I fill my life with these objects, hoping to uncover the pristine peace and emptiness beneath them, but I always need more.
I fill my lonely soul with philosophies that sicken me like too much candy, and the cynicism I am left with causes me to nihilistically accept the secular materialism that advertising bludgeons me with. I am told there is no God/dess and I have no soul. The contradiction in my experience of the world is a shameful secret.
I walk in nature and strive to wander until the traffic is inaudible, but when I reemerge into what they facetiously call the Real World, its bland perversity sends me into a repressed fit of despair. I read revolutionary texts, but it makes me feel too sad and I yearn for the mind-numbing entertainment specifically manufactured to drown out this Real World that its presence unambiguously perpetuates.
I glance through the glass-pained window and notice the moon is full. I try to project myself into a world where this monthly celebratory moment has some significance, but the rhythms and cycles of television programming do not take the moon into account. Natural phenomena are not considered relevant in this Real World I inhabit. They are quaint symbols of dead religions at best, like faded and chipped Coca-Cola logos on long-abandoned convenience stores.
I can get naked and dance around the backyard with my family watching, amused, but it will be a travesty. This will be no shared experience, I won't feel the breathing earth underneath the concrete, there will be no fire to get sweaty around and no natural body of water to dive into subsequently. I won't feel the thrill of life coursing through my body, it will be a display for the attendants and assistants and employees I live with.
At best they will appreciate it as an expression of my personality, what distinguishes me from them, like a birthmark or a homosexuality, as acceptable and irrelevant as an outbreak of acne. All diversity is accepted and assimilated in Capitalism's Democracy pageant. Every flavour, every colour of the rainbow is represented and available for purchase.
The only exception is the illegal and the illegal is, by definition, necessary to marginalise and eradicate by otherwise abhorrent means. The illegal is the very problem we face here in the Real World of the Legal, sanctioned, culturally-defined, personality-diverse extravaganza of materialistic accumulation.
I scorn that within the world and within myself that I feel powerless to transform. I resent that I do not know how to change what I hate, and I resent more my fear or unwillingness to change what I know precisely how to change. Too much clarity, too much sensitivity and empathy is dangerous in the Real World.
To see things through my own eyes, rather than the eyes prescribed by the media, is painfully revealing, like being exposed naked in front of the whole school, like those dreams I used to have that my clothes, my personality, my cultural veneer, vanished, and I was left, naked, together, alive.
I expanded out from the cities, created the suburbs, where I could possess my own estate, deep in the ocean of nuclear families, their backyards and their lockable rooms. I paid no landlord, I owned my own home, though the bank submerged me in debt for decades of my short lifetime. Their arbitrary authority was sold to me like a noble charity; the charity of the hardworking. I am the Lord God of my own nation-state, numbered and geometrically mapped by city planners. My hands stink not of dirt and grease, but of disinfectant.
I feel an all-encompassing love for everyone around me, but it is heavily encumbered with the futility of my financial culture. Everything I want is obscured by the price tags on objects to clutter and confuse my life. I fill my life with these objects, hoping to uncover the pristine peace and emptiness beneath them, but I always need more.
I fill my lonely soul with philosophies that sicken me like too much candy, and the cynicism I am left with causes me to nihilistically accept the secular materialism that advertising bludgeons me with. I am told there is no God/dess and I have no soul. The contradiction in my experience of the world is a shameful secret.
I walk in nature and strive to wander until the traffic is inaudible, but when I reemerge into what they facetiously call the Real World, its bland perversity sends me into a repressed fit of despair. I read revolutionary texts, but it makes me feel too sad and I yearn for the mind-numbing entertainment specifically manufactured to drown out this Real World that its presence unambiguously perpetuates.
I glance through the glass-pained window and notice the moon is full. I try to project myself into a world where this monthly celebratory moment has some significance, but the rhythms and cycles of television programming do not take the moon into account. Natural phenomena are not considered relevant in this Real World I inhabit. They are quaint symbols of dead religions at best, like faded and chipped Coca-Cola logos on long-abandoned convenience stores.
I can get naked and dance around the backyard with my family watching, amused, but it will be a travesty. This will be no shared experience, I won't feel the breathing earth underneath the concrete, there will be no fire to get sweaty around and no natural body of water to dive into subsequently. I won't feel the thrill of life coursing through my body, it will be a display for the attendants and assistants and employees I live with.
At best they will appreciate it as an expression of my personality, what distinguishes me from them, like a birthmark or a homosexuality, as acceptable and irrelevant as an outbreak of acne. All diversity is accepted and assimilated in Capitalism's Democracy pageant. Every flavour, every colour of the rainbow is represented and available for purchase.
The only exception is the illegal and the illegal is, by definition, necessary to marginalise and eradicate by otherwise abhorrent means. The illegal is the very problem we face here in the Real World of the Legal, sanctioned, culturally-defined, personality-diverse extravaganza of materialistic accumulation.
I scorn that within the world and within myself that I feel powerless to transform. I resent that I do not know how to change what I hate, and I resent more my fear or unwillingness to change what I know precisely how to change. Too much clarity, too much sensitivity and empathy is dangerous in the Real World.
To see things through my own eyes, rather than the eyes prescribed by the media, is painfully revealing, like being exposed naked in front of the whole school, like those dreams I used to have that my clothes, my personality, my cultural veneer, vanished, and I was left, naked, together, alive.
2013-07-23
The world succumbs.
The world succumbs.
We are enveloped into the enfolding.
We join the retreating wave of biomass.
Another species no longer hoping.
No more convenient delusions to survive us.
No more development of our civilisation.
Science as ignorant as the day it was born.
Nothing to save us from ourselves.
No noble cause to die for.
No morality to alleviate our guilt.
Not even a home to return to at day-end.
Mother buried in the void beyond understanding.
Not even our children will survive us.
I am still here, facing certain death.
You are still here, I face you too.
Nothing to say beyond the wind of exhalation.
Surrounded by a deafening silence.
So much space and time to behave in.
Everything to do but nowhere to start.
So much love, but never enough.
Just the potential of 12 hrs of overcast sunlight every single day.
We are enveloped into the enfolding.
We join the retreating wave of biomass.
Another species no longer hoping.
No more convenient delusions to survive us.
No more development of our civilisation.
Science as ignorant as the day it was born.
Nothing to save us from ourselves.
No noble cause to die for.
No morality to alleviate our guilt.
Not even a home to return to at day-end.
Mother buried in the void beyond understanding.
Not even our children will survive us.
I am still here, facing certain death.
You are still here, I face you too.
Nothing to say beyond the wind of exhalation.
Surrounded by a deafening silence.
So much space and time to behave in.
Everything to do but nowhere to start.
So much love, but never enough.
Just the potential of 12 hrs of overcast sunlight every single day.
2013-05-18
I am prepared to die
Now is the time for us to make revolution.
What a boring old-fashioned message.
Nothing will ever change.
Nationalism has failed us.
The Government will not save us.
The United States has collapsed.
The End Of The World has already happened.
Those of us who did not notice were presumably watching TV or wandering the shopping malls and the stupormarkets.
Every revolution that has preceded us has been entirely successful at bringing us to this moment.
The revolution only seems to fail because every time we attempt to project our ideologies onto reality we are faced with the contradictory nature of reality.
When we look at the world, all we see is the world. One day, we hope, we will see the world we see in our head.
This day will never come.
Thank God/dess that every ideological revolution has failed.
Even the revolutions that have failed have caused great violence in our precious world.
The United States of America is supposed to be the revolution of modern industrial democracy. It is a mistake that we, as a species, must repent and resolve.
There are no real barriers to the beginnings of sanity on this planet, only our own feelings of inadequacy.
"I don't deserve love because I am a naughty boy with perverse thoughts."
Therefore I will run for President of the World.
I have the perfect idea in my head of how the world should be and I intend to impose this perfect idea on the problematic reality of a chaotic world through the organisation and force of some institution, centuries old, brand new, revolutionary, conservative, secure, morally perfect.
We have created The Law, which we acknowledge does not exist but we promise we will enforce it as if it does exist.
We are prepared to use the violence that you are unwilling to carry out in the sanity of your loving homes.
We will require some of you to step out of your apathetic pajamas and into uniforms appropriate for the task of suppression of dissent.
We hate with the utmost love. Please, love us with the hate of your ability to make a living at the expense of others.
When I die, I will be remembered as a hard worker, working hard to make other species extinct.
We've had a lot of revolutions, a lot of extinctions, a handful of apocalypses, wars to end all wars, and the trajectory of human development is a progressive genocide of all races on the planet in favour of Indo-European people.
Nothing will stop us from doing what we're not quite sure what it is yet.
The most advanced species on this planet is telling you to not panic and to remain within the realm of the culture you grew up in.
You are either a member of the correct, dominant culture, or your culture will be violently removed in as humane a manner as possible at the correct moment, with or without the desperation of your retaliation.
China does not exist.
The American Flag is the greatest religious symbol of our age, followed by the Coca-Cola Ribbon and the McDonald's M.
The world is not divided between Christianity and Islam or between Democracy and Communism. The world is divided between Coca-Cola and Pepsi.
This was clear to me when I rode the bus through the highways of Guatemala and Mexico. Every tiny poor village has a tienda and every tienda sells junkfood to the poor locals who really don't need money and every tienda is decorated with either a Coca-Cola or Pepsi logo.
One day all the world will be free and everyone will have the money to pay for carbonated soft drink.
Nothing you do will make any difference.
I disagree, I can make change.
When I quite smoking I intend to start dancing.
I intend to set up a huge organisation to stop corruption in Government and Industry.
I stopped paying rent when I was 24 years old. I stopped paying for food when I was 26 years old. Now, I feel utter repulsion at the thought of paying money to live.
I can hear your logical justification for paying money to live and I hear the gas released from your anus. In both cases I heard you and I empathise with your difficulty in releasing the ideas and foods you have consumed. I wish you all the best in your internal cleanse.
I contradict the ideologies of the culture I was raised to serve as I reject the poisons that were advertised at me.
I reject McDonald's and Coca-Cola and all the less-successful advertising campaigns disguised as food.
I reject heterosexual monogamy and every new sexual permutation devised to define the perversity and love emanating from my soul.
I reject the fools in uniforms who tell me that this food isn't mine, that I must pay before I can bring it home and share it.
I am only an animal of Planet Earth, I cannot be anything that I am not.
I cannot be a Capitalist, regardless of how much I am educated in its normality.
I will always be an animal.
I will die an animal as I was born an animal, from my mother's womb.
I am the result of the loving coitus of my parents and I have grown up in this world largely because of the sustained love of the people around me.
It is not food or money that has kept me alive, but love. If there was no other way to die from lack of love, I would have killed myself by now.
I have never gone hungry nor lacked warmth and shelter. I have never lacked the love of my family, my friends and my tribe.
It is this network of love that makes life worth living and it is the strength of this love that makes things happen.
Everything I do is the result of the strength of love in my heart, in my body and in my life; because I have been loved and because I do love.
The ideologies and religions that impede us exist only in our fluffy minds. They define our behaviour as long as we allow them to define our behaviour.
The institutions and laws that impede us exist only in our fluffy minds. When we cease to dedicate our lives to their perpetuation they cease to exist and the people and resources that constitute these institutions can instantly be used to promote the cause of life on this planet.
I am not scared of pain or death. I am not afraid that I will go to Hell or go to Prison. My God/dess will not dessert me and s/he does not need to exist to be constantly in my heart.
Everyone who loves me will stand beside my grave as my naked body is lowered into the naked grave within which I will nourish the soil that has always nourished me.
Nothing will stop me from fully experiencing the life into which I was born.
There is no substitute for love, passion, beauty, pain and great death.
What a boring old-fashioned message.
Nothing will ever change.
Nationalism has failed us.
The Government will not save us.
The United States has collapsed.
The End Of The World has already happened.
Those of us who did not notice were presumably watching TV or wandering the shopping malls and the stupormarkets.
Every revolution that has preceded us has been entirely successful at bringing us to this moment.
The revolution only seems to fail because every time we attempt to project our ideologies onto reality we are faced with the contradictory nature of reality.
When we look at the world, all we see is the world. One day, we hope, we will see the world we see in our head.
This day will never come.
Thank God/dess that every ideological revolution has failed.
Even the revolutions that have failed have caused great violence in our precious world.
The United States of America is supposed to be the revolution of modern industrial democracy. It is a mistake that we, as a species, must repent and resolve.
There are no real barriers to the beginnings of sanity on this planet, only our own feelings of inadequacy.
"I don't deserve love because I am a naughty boy with perverse thoughts."
Therefore I will run for President of the World.
I have the perfect idea in my head of how the world should be and I intend to impose this perfect idea on the problematic reality of a chaotic world through the organisation and force of some institution, centuries old, brand new, revolutionary, conservative, secure, morally perfect.
We have created The Law, which we acknowledge does not exist but we promise we will enforce it as if it does exist.
We are prepared to use the violence that you are unwilling to carry out in the sanity of your loving homes.
We will require some of you to step out of your apathetic pajamas and into uniforms appropriate for the task of suppression of dissent.
We hate with the utmost love. Please, love us with the hate of your ability to make a living at the expense of others.
When I die, I will be remembered as a hard worker, working hard to make other species extinct.
We've had a lot of revolutions, a lot of extinctions, a handful of apocalypses, wars to end all wars, and the trajectory of human development is a progressive genocide of all races on the planet in favour of Indo-European people.
Nothing will stop us from doing what we're not quite sure what it is yet.
The most advanced species on this planet is telling you to not panic and to remain within the realm of the culture you grew up in.
You are either a member of the correct, dominant culture, or your culture will be violently removed in as humane a manner as possible at the correct moment, with or without the desperation of your retaliation.
China does not exist.
The American Flag is the greatest religious symbol of our age, followed by the Coca-Cola Ribbon and the McDonald's M.
The world is not divided between Christianity and Islam or between Democracy and Communism. The world is divided between Coca-Cola and Pepsi.
This was clear to me when I rode the bus through the highways of Guatemala and Mexico. Every tiny poor village has a tienda and every tienda sells junkfood to the poor locals who really don't need money and every tienda is decorated with either a Coca-Cola or Pepsi logo.
One day all the world will be free and everyone will have the money to pay for carbonated soft drink.
Nothing you do will make any difference.
I disagree, I can make change.
When I quite smoking I intend to start dancing.
I intend to set up a huge organisation to stop corruption in Government and Industry.
I stopped paying rent when I was 24 years old. I stopped paying for food when I was 26 years old. Now, I feel utter repulsion at the thought of paying money to live.
I can hear your logical justification for paying money to live and I hear the gas released from your anus. In both cases I heard you and I empathise with your difficulty in releasing the ideas and foods you have consumed. I wish you all the best in your internal cleanse.
I contradict the ideologies of the culture I was raised to serve as I reject the poisons that were advertised at me.
I reject McDonald's and Coca-Cola and all the less-successful advertising campaigns disguised as food.
I reject heterosexual monogamy and every new sexual permutation devised to define the perversity and love emanating from my soul.
I reject the fools in uniforms who tell me that this food isn't mine, that I must pay before I can bring it home and share it.
I am only an animal of Planet Earth, I cannot be anything that I am not.
I cannot be a Capitalist, regardless of how much I am educated in its normality.
I will always be an animal.
I will die an animal as I was born an animal, from my mother's womb.
I am the result of the loving coitus of my parents and I have grown up in this world largely because of the sustained love of the people around me.
It is not food or money that has kept me alive, but love. If there was no other way to die from lack of love, I would have killed myself by now.
I have never gone hungry nor lacked warmth and shelter. I have never lacked the love of my family, my friends and my tribe.
It is this network of love that makes life worth living and it is the strength of this love that makes things happen.
Everything I do is the result of the strength of love in my heart, in my body and in my life; because I have been loved and because I do love.
The ideologies and religions that impede us exist only in our fluffy minds. They define our behaviour as long as we allow them to define our behaviour.
The institutions and laws that impede us exist only in our fluffy minds. When we cease to dedicate our lives to their perpetuation they cease to exist and the people and resources that constitute these institutions can instantly be used to promote the cause of life on this planet.
I am not scared of pain or death. I am not afraid that I will go to Hell or go to Prison. My God/dess will not dessert me and s/he does not need to exist to be constantly in my heart.
Everyone who loves me will stand beside my grave as my naked body is lowered into the naked grave within which I will nourish the soil that has always nourished me.
Nothing will stop me from fully experiencing the life into which I was born.
There is no substitute for love, passion, beauty, pain and great death.
2013-04-10
to God's perfect Darkness [thank you, Allen Ginsberg] [thank you, my triangle]
Death be upon us all in the realisation of our karma
Death be upon us all in the leap of faith into dangerous depths of love
Death be upon us all in the consequences of our bodies
Death be upon us all in the recurring dream of our denial
Death be upon us all as we linger frightened for lifetimes on the precipice of our inevitable completion
Death be upon us all in the transcendence of our perfection from the materiality of time
Death be upon us all in the mercy of an unforgiveable failure
Death be upon us all in the blessing of our forgiveness of others
Death be upon us as the harsh truth of necessity
Death as the change that saves us
Death the abandonment of generations of accumulated hatreds
Death as the swept-away invigoration of the River of Life
Death, the Gatekeeper of Infinity
Death, the answer to every question
Nature's perfect restoration of balance
The god of mercy and transformation
The baptism of fire
The world we've dreamed of in fear and unbearable yearning from birth
The debunking force of every human cosmology
The dusk at the end of every day
My greatest fear and hope
The only solace we can rely on
Death be upon those who fear it the most
Death be upon those who choose it in their sad lives
Death be upon those whose bodies cannot contain the intensity of life
Death be upon those exhausted at the completion of a necessary task
Death be the blessing of a Culture long-gone-wrong
Death be the triumph of those whose natural integrity have alienated them from their own culture
Death be the Apocalypse we've all been praying for
Death be not the beast in the darkness with which we threaten each other
but the gift at the completion of Hope, the completion of Karma, the fulfillment of the wholeness of this moment
Death be upon us all in the leap of faith into dangerous depths of love
Death be upon us all in the consequences of our bodies
Death be upon us all in the recurring dream of our denial
Death be upon us all as we linger frightened for lifetimes on the precipice of our inevitable completion
Death be upon us all in the transcendence of our perfection from the materiality of time
Death be upon us all in the mercy of an unforgiveable failure
Death be upon us all in the blessing of our forgiveness of others
Death be upon us as the harsh truth of necessity
Death as the change that saves us
Death the abandonment of generations of accumulated hatreds
Death as the swept-away invigoration of the River of Life
Death, the Gatekeeper of Infinity
Death, the answer to every question
Nature's perfect restoration of balance
The god of mercy and transformation
The baptism of fire
The world we've dreamed of in fear and unbearable yearning from birth
The debunking force of every human cosmology
The dusk at the end of every day
My greatest fear and hope
The only solace we can rely on
Death be upon those who fear it the most
Death be upon those who choose it in their sad lives
Death be upon those whose bodies cannot contain the intensity of life
Death be upon those exhausted at the completion of a necessary task
Death be the blessing of a Culture long-gone-wrong
Death be the triumph of those whose natural integrity have alienated them from their own culture
Death be the Apocalypse we've all been praying for
Death be not the beast in the darkness with which we threaten each other
but the gift at the completion of Hope, the completion of Karma, the fulfillment of the wholeness of this moment
2013-03-01
Consciousness
Everything we hope for in this world is futile. It is the pathetic lamentations of a consciousness with no power. The consciousness is miserable, useless, trapped in the thoughts of a transcendent terrestrial being like a demon trapped in a shrieking pig. We curse it and it pains us but we continue to live together in mutual torture.
The consciousness just wants to exist while we just want to get on with our lives. It wants to control. It wants to control us and it wants to control the world. It is every evil cartoon character who wants to rule the world. In its desperation to exist it creates the ego and like a blanket thrown over a sleeping body, the ego shrouds, protects and contains us. It buffers us from the world via an an artificial construction that is not us. The ego tries to control the world through governments and corporations who do not respect life on this planet because they are not life on this planet. They do not exist and they hate us, the living, those who truly exist.
We exist in many bodies in many parallel worlds, but the consciousness is just a series of thoughts. It is not a thinker, it is a habitual pattern of thought behaviour that we perpetuate with our bodies. We exist materially, in our bodies made of earth and water, and we exist in other bodies. We have a mind, a subconscious, that is in psychic (non-local) connection with all mind. Together we create reality through our behaviour, all life on this planet contributing to perfectly manifest exactly what exists. Meanwhile, perhaps peculiar to us humans (I don't know) the consciousness chatters in our head uselessly, undermining our behaviour, criticising us, disturbing us with uncertainty and anxiety that affects our body's ability to function.
Our consciousness is not our brain, nor is it our spirit or soul, it is a habit. We humans possess an unlikely ability to think in a highly complex manner. Like a dog chasing his own tail, we are often fooled by ourselves. This particular ability, to think, over the generations, and now more than ever, is out of control. While, like all other terrestrial beings, our bodies tell us everything we need to know about the world via pain, beauty, emotion, hunger, and perception, we are fooled by our thoughts into behaviour that is not beneficial for us or conducive to life on this planet. We have rationalised this habitual mode of behaviour as "rational thinking", when it fits into the accepted and expected framework of the intellectual and academic world, or we label it "schizophrenia" when it is evident in an individual in a manner that does not reinforce the cultural status quo.
Our consciousness is so desperate to exist that it has hijacked our organism for its own purpose. It is creating on our planet a world of abstraction, a world ruled not by gods or spirits or the laws of physics or love, but a world ruled by economies, laws, belief systems and contracts. It is a world in which humans do not live within communities, tribes, families or loving relationships, but within institutions, nation-states, households and legal marriages. We feel outside this world, though we create an ego, a personality, a career and a legal name to function within it. We hide together with those we can trust and we get naked, we make love, we laugh and we dance. In the abstract world, in the city, in the office, in the classroom, we do not.
Our consciousness is so desperate to exist that it has covered the Earth in cities, yet it still does not exist. It tries to control the behaviour of the beings on this planet with walls and fences, with clothing and leashes, with law and law enforcement personnel, but life is not contained or controlled. Consciousness created clocks so we would always be busy, it created concrete to disconnect us from nature and it create shame so we wouldn't look each other in the eye, therefore trying, futilely, in vain, to disconnect us from the moments in which we quietly and easily return to our true nature, meditative and at peace. Whenever we fall asleep our consciousness is entirely powerless and so it has created electrical lighting and 24 hour cities, social culture has moved almost entirely into the night, but still consciousness has failed to eliminate sleep and the worlds that are available to us via dreaming.
We blame the politicians, the corporate CEOs, the rich, the poor, the terrorists, the one percent, the religious, the atheistic, the Muslims, the Jews, the criminals, Satan, but it is us. We are the consciousness. We are not the consciousness, the consciousness is a habitual behaviour, it does not exist, it is our habitual behaviour, we use it to create civilisation and war. It is our fault.
My consciousness is so desperate to exist that we have created this text for you to read.
Like God in Genesis 1, we speak this institutional world into existence. We have incredible powers of language that we do not understand. Like that which we call "dreaming", that which we call "languaging" is not a single behaviour, but many behaviours. We falsely divide language into fiction and nonfiction, or existent and nonexistent. We further divide nonfiction into lies and telling-the-truth. This is not the way I experience language.
A language is a set of agreed upon symbols that correspond to a set of agreed upon things. If you do not know the particular language, it means nothing to you; if you do not know the corresponding thing the language refers to, it means nothing. The illusion, carried by religion and now passed on to science, is that language can contain reality, or "truth", that it can represent what "is". There is no reason for us to believe this is possible.
However, we continue to speak things into existence and we continue to destroy things with our speech. We rave about something we are passionate about and we spark off in the listener an exciting idea of their own. We confront a grievance that lingers heavy in the air between us and another human and thus we diffuse it and destroy it. Language is true when it resonates in our bodies, it is false when it resonates in our bodies. We have the ability, as complex as our language, to understand the different ways in which language resonates through our bodies, thus we know when the yelling swearing person is angry and when they are being silly and we respond entirely differently to the same words. We sit in a theatre watching a play and we enjoy a full emotional response to the play without worrying about the reality of the drama; like all language, it is language and nothing more. Our consciousness enjoys it and we enjoy our consciousness being placated for a while with a safe dose of drama. For a moment we can relax, rock our consciousness to sleep, smile with our friends and fall away from each others' arms into one of the many worlds of dream.
The consciousness just wants to exist while we just want to get on with our lives. It wants to control. It wants to control us and it wants to control the world. It is every evil cartoon character who wants to rule the world. In its desperation to exist it creates the ego and like a blanket thrown over a sleeping body, the ego shrouds, protects and contains us. It buffers us from the world via an an artificial construction that is not us. The ego tries to control the world through governments and corporations who do not respect life on this planet because they are not life on this planet. They do not exist and they hate us, the living, those who truly exist.
We exist in many bodies in many parallel worlds, but the consciousness is just a series of thoughts. It is not a thinker, it is a habitual pattern of thought behaviour that we perpetuate with our bodies. We exist materially, in our bodies made of earth and water, and we exist in other bodies. We have a mind, a subconscious, that is in psychic (non-local) connection with all mind. Together we create reality through our behaviour, all life on this planet contributing to perfectly manifest exactly what exists. Meanwhile, perhaps peculiar to us humans (I don't know) the consciousness chatters in our head uselessly, undermining our behaviour, criticising us, disturbing us with uncertainty and anxiety that affects our body's ability to function.
Our consciousness is not our brain, nor is it our spirit or soul, it is a habit. We humans possess an unlikely ability to think in a highly complex manner. Like a dog chasing his own tail, we are often fooled by ourselves. This particular ability, to think, over the generations, and now more than ever, is out of control. While, like all other terrestrial beings, our bodies tell us everything we need to know about the world via pain, beauty, emotion, hunger, and perception, we are fooled by our thoughts into behaviour that is not beneficial for us or conducive to life on this planet. We have rationalised this habitual mode of behaviour as "rational thinking", when it fits into the accepted and expected framework of the intellectual and academic world, or we label it "schizophrenia" when it is evident in an individual in a manner that does not reinforce the cultural status quo.
Our consciousness is so desperate to exist that it has hijacked our organism for its own purpose. It is creating on our planet a world of abstraction, a world ruled not by gods or spirits or the laws of physics or love, but a world ruled by economies, laws, belief systems and contracts. It is a world in which humans do not live within communities, tribes, families or loving relationships, but within institutions, nation-states, households and legal marriages. We feel outside this world, though we create an ego, a personality, a career and a legal name to function within it. We hide together with those we can trust and we get naked, we make love, we laugh and we dance. In the abstract world, in the city, in the office, in the classroom, we do not.
Our consciousness is so desperate to exist that it has covered the Earth in cities, yet it still does not exist. It tries to control the behaviour of the beings on this planet with walls and fences, with clothing and leashes, with law and law enforcement personnel, but life is not contained or controlled. Consciousness created clocks so we would always be busy, it created concrete to disconnect us from nature and it create shame so we wouldn't look each other in the eye, therefore trying, futilely, in vain, to disconnect us from the moments in which we quietly and easily return to our true nature, meditative and at peace. Whenever we fall asleep our consciousness is entirely powerless and so it has created electrical lighting and 24 hour cities, social culture has moved almost entirely into the night, but still consciousness has failed to eliminate sleep and the worlds that are available to us via dreaming.
We blame the politicians, the corporate CEOs, the rich, the poor, the terrorists, the one percent, the religious, the atheistic, the Muslims, the Jews, the criminals, Satan, but it is us. We are the consciousness. We are not the consciousness, the consciousness is a habitual behaviour, it does not exist, it is our habitual behaviour, we use it to create civilisation and war. It is our fault.
My consciousness is so desperate to exist that we have created this text for you to read.
Like God in Genesis 1, we speak this institutional world into existence. We have incredible powers of language that we do not understand. Like that which we call "dreaming", that which we call "languaging" is not a single behaviour, but many behaviours. We falsely divide language into fiction and nonfiction, or existent and nonexistent. We further divide nonfiction into lies and telling-the-truth. This is not the way I experience language.
A language is a set of agreed upon symbols that correspond to a set of agreed upon things. If you do not know the particular language, it means nothing to you; if you do not know the corresponding thing the language refers to, it means nothing. The illusion, carried by religion and now passed on to science, is that language can contain reality, or "truth", that it can represent what "is". There is no reason for us to believe this is possible.
However, we continue to speak things into existence and we continue to destroy things with our speech. We rave about something we are passionate about and we spark off in the listener an exciting idea of their own. We confront a grievance that lingers heavy in the air between us and another human and thus we diffuse it and destroy it. Language is true when it resonates in our bodies, it is false when it resonates in our bodies. We have the ability, as complex as our language, to understand the different ways in which language resonates through our bodies, thus we know when the yelling swearing person is angry and when they are being silly and we respond entirely differently to the same words. We sit in a theatre watching a play and we enjoy a full emotional response to the play without worrying about the reality of the drama; like all language, it is language and nothing more. Our consciousness enjoys it and we enjoy our consciousness being placated for a while with a safe dose of drama. For a moment we can relax, rock our consciousness to sleep, smile with our friends and fall away from each others' arms into one of the many worlds of dream.
2013-02-28
Layer upon layer of California
Why do we persist in this haze? How do we continue to walk around in this stupor as if everything is normal? How does the world not collapse around us, so tenuously built on so many of our non-existent concepts?
I look around me and I see layer upon layer of illusion. There is the illusion of the culture that exists eternally. Despite our frequent libraries full of histories, we know our culture has always been like this. Despite science telling us that the sun will eventually collapse, we know our culture will last forever. It is fundamentally non-existent and therefore not bound by the laws of physics or even logic. I grew up surrounded by it, like a slimy birth fluid. This culture can easily be washed off in the shower, but we are encouraged, via advertising, to subsequently coat ourselves in it; oily paint that destroys our skins pH, petrochemical and alcohol skin products, constructs of metal and stone and woven fabrics.
The illusion is enforced. I say it is easy to wash it off, and I know many people who have, but life must continue. In the city we are surrounded by people in uniforms dedicated to surrounding us with threats and weapons. We know that if we do not at least pretend, we will be attacked. If we do not exchange the currency of this culture daily we will be attacked. If we want a home, we must pay this currency to a rich person who claims to "own" it, because they have a piece of paper and because they possess more currency than we do. If we choose to not pay this lord to live in our own home we will be attacked. If we are hungry we cannot take food without exchanging this currency or we will be attacked. If we try we must remain invisible.
Why do we maintain this illusion at the expense of everything? Who are these people, these demons, these law enforcers, these one percent? Are they not us, members of our own species, members of our own culture, people like us, doing their jobs like us?
Illusion upon illusion. Every morning I wake up surprised that I am not lying naked on the earth surrounded by my sleeping family, that I am clothed, surrounded by artificial light and concrete. Where did all this come from? I have been to Australia, New Zealand, Turkey, Scandinavia, Central America and California, and it's the same everywhere. What is happening?
I grew up in New Zealand surrounded by the voices of the other side of the planet. I grew up with media that defined my world to a large degree but was not related to the area and people amongst whom I lived. It was produced in Los Angeles, California. In all of the places I have been, they are watching and listening to the same media, the same messages, the same culture, the same subliminal propaganda. We take very seriously our consumption of media. I cynically criticise here what I am undoubtedly a part of. I put a great deal of energy and time into finding the best cinema available in my environment and exposing myself to hours of it, when I could be sitting on the grass in the sun. I am hopelessly trapped in this layer of illusion and thus seek not to liberate myself from it, but to refine and improve the quality of the meida I expose myself to. I avoid television completely but I continue to go to the cinema. I avoid microwaves completely but I continue to eat cooked food.
In my lifetime another layer of illusion has carefully been laid upon us, with nobody flinching. I did not use the internet until I was 17. How quaint and hilarious I thought it was when my mother told me she didn't have television until she was 12. I couldn't imagine a home, a living room or a life without a television. We have barely noticed as this complex layer of wire and information has been laid upon the world like a protective coating. Where does all this come from? Google, Facebook and Twitter are all based in San Francisco, California. When I was a child I knew nobody with a mobile phone. Now I cannot communicate without a mobile phone and Facebook. I upset people if I only have Facebook and not a mobile phone. I am trapped in this world. This world is California. This world is Purgatory. I give it names, though the names mean nothing.
We don't know how to respond and so we play along until we figure it out. In the meantime we get old and die, blamelessly perpetuating and further developing the illusion because we didn't know what else to do. What should I do? I ask, again and again, already having figured out that I am no longer capable of getting a job, paying rent or buying food. Destroy it, I hear. Destroy it without compromising what you value. Destroy it with the unique gifts that you possess. Destroy it in a way that has never been done before, in a way that reinforces everything you know to be true.
When I walk through these streets I see people avoiding my gaze, I see people staring right at me and I turn away frightened because they are threatening or because they are beautiful. I see polite people just trying to get on with things and I don't have the heart to disturb them, so I try to be polite. I see unshaven men muttering to themselves facing the floor, I see men limping, I see women pushing trolleys and going through garbage, I see dandies in purple pants, I see drunk blonde women laughing, I see bums accosting everyone for cigarettes and coins. Everyone I meet is intelligent and beautiful and caring and gentle. Everyone I don't meet is terrifyingly unpredictable and potentially dangerous. I see zombies stomping down the street with their eyes bulging out of their heads. I see zombies striding with the confidence of a suit and the justification of a credit card. I do not understand why we allow it to continue.
People shout in the streets. We ignore them, including I, the morally superior one. We see those who commit "low level quality of life crimes" being harassed by bums in blue uniforms and we pretend its normal in our consciousness though our stomachs claim otherwise. We sit at home or in the park and we talk openly about it all with the people that we trust and we wonder why it is not changing. Jesus announced the apocalypse as the Roman Empire encroached on the villages he was born amongst. My global tribe, goddess bless them, announced the apocalypse at the end of last year. I knew what the apocalypse would look like cos I knew what the apocalypse needed to look like. I was disappointed to the core, though I had carefully veiled myself in scepticism.
I suppose it will go on as it has, illusion layered upon illusion when the old illusion wears thin. I suppose I will get old and die and never feel comfortable to have children. I will find a niche and fill it and be satisfied.
I look around me and I see layer upon layer of illusion. There is the illusion of the culture that exists eternally. Despite our frequent libraries full of histories, we know our culture has always been like this. Despite science telling us that the sun will eventually collapse, we know our culture will last forever. It is fundamentally non-existent and therefore not bound by the laws of physics or even logic. I grew up surrounded by it, like a slimy birth fluid. This culture can easily be washed off in the shower, but we are encouraged, via advertising, to subsequently coat ourselves in it; oily paint that destroys our skins pH, petrochemical and alcohol skin products, constructs of metal and stone and woven fabrics.
The illusion is enforced. I say it is easy to wash it off, and I know many people who have, but life must continue. In the city we are surrounded by people in uniforms dedicated to surrounding us with threats and weapons. We know that if we do not at least pretend, we will be attacked. If we do not exchange the currency of this culture daily we will be attacked. If we want a home, we must pay this currency to a rich person who claims to "own" it, because they have a piece of paper and because they possess more currency than we do. If we choose to not pay this lord to live in our own home we will be attacked. If we are hungry we cannot take food without exchanging this currency or we will be attacked. If we try we must remain invisible.
Why do we maintain this illusion at the expense of everything? Who are these people, these demons, these law enforcers, these one percent? Are they not us, members of our own species, members of our own culture, people like us, doing their jobs like us?
Illusion upon illusion. Every morning I wake up surprised that I am not lying naked on the earth surrounded by my sleeping family, that I am clothed, surrounded by artificial light and concrete. Where did all this come from? I have been to Australia, New Zealand, Turkey, Scandinavia, Central America and California, and it's the same everywhere. What is happening?
I grew up in New Zealand surrounded by the voices of the other side of the planet. I grew up with media that defined my world to a large degree but was not related to the area and people amongst whom I lived. It was produced in Los Angeles, California. In all of the places I have been, they are watching and listening to the same media, the same messages, the same culture, the same subliminal propaganda. We take very seriously our consumption of media. I cynically criticise here what I am undoubtedly a part of. I put a great deal of energy and time into finding the best cinema available in my environment and exposing myself to hours of it, when I could be sitting on the grass in the sun. I am hopelessly trapped in this layer of illusion and thus seek not to liberate myself from it, but to refine and improve the quality of the meida I expose myself to. I avoid television completely but I continue to go to the cinema. I avoid microwaves completely but I continue to eat cooked food.
In my lifetime another layer of illusion has carefully been laid upon us, with nobody flinching. I did not use the internet until I was 17. How quaint and hilarious I thought it was when my mother told me she didn't have television until she was 12. I couldn't imagine a home, a living room or a life without a television. We have barely noticed as this complex layer of wire and information has been laid upon the world like a protective coating. Where does all this come from? Google, Facebook and Twitter are all based in San Francisco, California. When I was a child I knew nobody with a mobile phone. Now I cannot communicate without a mobile phone and Facebook. I upset people if I only have Facebook and not a mobile phone. I am trapped in this world. This world is California. This world is Purgatory. I give it names, though the names mean nothing.
We don't know how to respond and so we play along until we figure it out. In the meantime we get old and die, blamelessly perpetuating and further developing the illusion because we didn't know what else to do. What should I do? I ask, again and again, already having figured out that I am no longer capable of getting a job, paying rent or buying food. Destroy it, I hear. Destroy it without compromising what you value. Destroy it with the unique gifts that you possess. Destroy it in a way that has never been done before, in a way that reinforces everything you know to be true.
When I walk through these streets I see people avoiding my gaze, I see people staring right at me and I turn away frightened because they are threatening or because they are beautiful. I see polite people just trying to get on with things and I don't have the heart to disturb them, so I try to be polite. I see unshaven men muttering to themselves facing the floor, I see men limping, I see women pushing trolleys and going through garbage, I see dandies in purple pants, I see drunk blonde women laughing, I see bums accosting everyone for cigarettes and coins. Everyone I meet is intelligent and beautiful and caring and gentle. Everyone I don't meet is terrifyingly unpredictable and potentially dangerous. I see zombies stomping down the street with their eyes bulging out of their heads. I see zombies striding with the confidence of a suit and the justification of a credit card. I do not understand why we allow it to continue.
People shout in the streets. We ignore them, including I, the morally superior one. We see those who commit "low level quality of life crimes" being harassed by bums in blue uniforms and we pretend its normal in our consciousness though our stomachs claim otherwise. We sit at home or in the park and we talk openly about it all with the people that we trust and we wonder why it is not changing. Jesus announced the apocalypse as the Roman Empire encroached on the villages he was born amongst. My global tribe, goddess bless them, announced the apocalypse at the end of last year. I knew what the apocalypse would look like cos I knew what the apocalypse needed to look like. I was disappointed to the core, though I had carefully veiled myself in scepticism.
I suppose it will go on as it has, illusion layered upon illusion when the old illusion wears thin. I suppose I will get old and die and never feel comfortable to have children. I will find a niche and fill it and be satisfied.
2013-02-27
Living in houses
It's time to get back to the earth. Living in houses destroys us in more ways than we can comprehend.
For example?
Sleeping patterns. There is one reason why we don't go to sleep when it gets dark and wake up when it gets light. Houses (and electric light). One example.
Partying and live music is another good reason we don't go to sleep when it gets dark.
I guess if things were different we would party and perform live music during the day, or at night under the stars and especially the full moon and around the fire (rather than in houses).
They promote compulsive behavior. They disengage us from reality; earth, air, water, sun, other plants and animals. They separate us from our neighbors and even our friends. In houses we sleep in different rooms and different beds; when we sleep on the earth we naturally sleep together, if only to keep each other warm.
Agreed Chris, I am completely off balance after coming back from Mexico, main reason being where I'm living.
If you clean up your house sufficiently, you will be vacuuming the floor until you are back on a healthy living soil and you will be dusting the roof and walls until they no longer protect you from reality and the air flows and the sky is visible in all its beauty.
I am a fat slob. I live in a house. I may not be actually fat, but I feel like I am. When I eat a big meal I look at my stomach, it juts out rudely. After eating a big meal, I feel like eating. While eating I feel like I should be doing something, like reading or watching TV. I want my food to be cooked and heavy with carbohydrates, specifically crude grains; fried rice, tortillas, bread or pasta. I eat because there is nothing else to do. I eat because I can't relax. I eat because my environment is entirely uninspiring. I create my own space, I cover the walls with beauty, I keep it clean and I fill it with comfortable furniture and meaningful objects. I enclose myself in this space, surrounded by these objects, alone. Here I am able to create a fantasy world, in my thoughts perhaps, or when asleep in my dreams. At my best I create stories to reach out to the world from this space, but usually I don't have the energy.
I remember when I used to be alive. I used to sleep on the beach. I used to make fire before going to sleep at night. I used to fall asleep looking at the stars. I used to breathe fresh ocean air, cleaned by the salt. I used to run naked up the beach when it was empty and leap into the water with exuberance and submission. The ocean would always deposit me back on the sand, safe and refreshed; reborn. No matter how many hot chlorinated showers I enjoy I cannot recreate this type of cleanliness. No matter how many times I masturbate down the drain pipe I never have the feeling that I have entered the vagina of the Earth and been accepted.
I am a filthy smelly bum. I sleep in the park. I carry bags around with my everywhere I go. I have everything I need on hand. I sleep in the bush, surrounded by trees, cosy on a yoga mat in a sleeping bag, wrapped up in a woolen blanket. When I wake up in the morning I eat my stolen breakfast on a picnic table in the sun. I wash my hands and face and collect water from the public toilet. I rarely shower. Sometimes, when I am on a crowded bus or in a crowded cinema, I feel self-conscious about my smell or wonder if I have dirt on my face. In the park this does not matter. I love being in the city, I love to meet people and to have experiences and to expose my self to cinema and theatre and live music. But public transport and shedules are so stressful in comparison to the world where the clock is the sun and the moon and the agenda is sitting on the earth and urinating on a tree.
When I am in a house I crave to be alone, to have my own room, to be able to close and maybe even lock the door. When I am outside I love to sleep with everyone, in a row, to snuggle, to keep each other warm. I look at the pigs I live with, sleeping in piles, and I envy them. I sleep alone in a bed. I sleep on the earth by the fire beside all my friends. I sleep in a pile of humans in the bush.
For example?
Sleeping patterns. There is one reason why we don't go to sleep when it gets dark and wake up when it gets light. Houses (and electric light). One example.
Partying and live music is another good reason we don't go to sleep when it gets dark.
I guess if things were different we would party and perform live music during the day, or at night under the stars and especially the full moon and around the fire (rather than in houses).
They promote compulsive behavior. They disengage us from reality; earth, air, water, sun, other plants and animals. They separate us from our neighbors and even our friends. In houses we sleep in different rooms and different beds; when we sleep on the earth we naturally sleep together, if only to keep each other warm.
Agreed Chris, I am completely off balance after coming back from Mexico, main reason being where I'm living.
If you clean up your house sufficiently, you will be vacuuming the floor until you are back on a healthy living soil and you will be dusting the roof and walls until they no longer protect you from reality and the air flows and the sky is visible in all its beauty.
I am a fat slob. I live in a house. I may not be actually fat, but I feel like I am. When I eat a big meal I look at my stomach, it juts out rudely. After eating a big meal, I feel like eating. While eating I feel like I should be doing something, like reading or watching TV. I want my food to be cooked and heavy with carbohydrates, specifically crude grains; fried rice, tortillas, bread or pasta. I eat because there is nothing else to do. I eat because I can't relax. I eat because my environment is entirely uninspiring. I create my own space, I cover the walls with beauty, I keep it clean and I fill it with comfortable furniture and meaningful objects. I enclose myself in this space, surrounded by these objects, alone. Here I am able to create a fantasy world, in my thoughts perhaps, or when asleep in my dreams. At my best I create stories to reach out to the world from this space, but usually I don't have the energy.
I remember when I used to be alive. I used to sleep on the beach. I used to make fire before going to sleep at night. I used to fall asleep looking at the stars. I used to breathe fresh ocean air, cleaned by the salt. I used to run naked up the beach when it was empty and leap into the water with exuberance and submission. The ocean would always deposit me back on the sand, safe and refreshed; reborn. No matter how many hot chlorinated showers I enjoy I cannot recreate this type of cleanliness. No matter how many times I masturbate down the drain pipe I never have the feeling that I have entered the vagina of the Earth and been accepted.
I am a filthy smelly bum. I sleep in the park. I carry bags around with my everywhere I go. I have everything I need on hand. I sleep in the bush, surrounded by trees, cosy on a yoga mat in a sleeping bag, wrapped up in a woolen blanket. When I wake up in the morning I eat my stolen breakfast on a picnic table in the sun. I wash my hands and face and collect water from the public toilet. I rarely shower. Sometimes, when I am on a crowded bus or in a crowded cinema, I feel self-conscious about my smell or wonder if I have dirt on my face. In the park this does not matter. I love being in the city, I love to meet people and to have experiences and to expose my self to cinema and theatre and live music. But public transport and shedules are so stressful in comparison to the world where the clock is the sun and the moon and the agenda is sitting on the earth and urinating on a tree.
When I am in a house I crave to be alone, to have my own room, to be able to close and maybe even lock the door. When I am outside I love to sleep with everyone, in a row, to snuggle, to keep each other warm. I look at the pigs I live with, sleeping in piles, and I envy them. I sleep alone in a bed. I sleep on the earth by the fire beside all my friends. I sleep in a pile of humans in the bush.
2013-02-26
The Homosexual Solution
There are too many people in the world; too many human people to be precise. Derrick Jensen suggests that with six million human beings on this planet, we are actually taking away available biomass for the life of other species, all the non-human people who are dying rapidly. Aside from the denial justified as morality, the morality that it is wrong for humans to die, even more wrong than other species dying, there are solutions to the population crisis that are worse than the problem, reeking of the worst totalitarianism. Some people claim these solutions are already happening, that the governments are poisoning us through our tap water. Others resign themselves to the necessary unpleasantness of some mass natural disaster, like a tsunami or earthquake. Some people stress the importance of solutions allowing the economy to grow, some value solutions that adhere to pre-ordained codes of conduct, such as laws and dogmas. No one seems to suggest pleasure as a guiding principle, or love as a process.
Why are there too many people on the earth? Isn't this a silly game to be playing? Surely one billion is more than enough human beings to praise Economy and Yahweh. There is evidence that in previous human societies, tribes that lasted sustainably for thousands of years, population was controlled. Some people hear that they killed foetuses and infants and disabled people and are horrified at the idea of human beings dying. There is also evidence of very simple birth-control methods involving simply awareness of a woman's menstrual cycle, surely the sort of information that was violently repressed by the Catholic Church during the Holy Inquisition, or women burnings.
My suggestion as to why there are so many people on the planet is the same reason that we created all these civilisations that are merging via globalisation into the mega-culture that will digitise the planet. Grain. Civilisation, and therefore ever-growing population, is a result of the addiction of an entire species to grain. Look around the world, every civilisation is defined by their grain. There are the American corn cultures, the Asian rice cultures and the European wheat cultures. Apparently 75% of the food eaten by humans on this planet is these three grains. When we were gatherer-hunters, back in the garden, we would have eaten a wide variety of plants, whatever was available in our environment, taking a little from each plant so the plant could continue to flourish and provide. We would never have eaten huge amounts of one thing as agriculture allows. But then we discovered grains, wheat being the most popular in the world, native to the Fertile Crescent as civilisation itself is.
Why would we create agriculture when we were living a balanced life in which nature provided us everything we needed, we did not take too much and we did not threaten our environment with over-population? Grain. We discovered grain and the more we ate the more we wanted to eat. I have noticed that when I start the day with a big bowl of satisfying comforting nutritious organic oats I am hungry again an hour or two later, much hungrier than I would otherwise have been. It is no secret that these things that we use to bulk out our meals, to "fill us up", actually expand our stomachs and therefore fail at the one task they are given. We grow up in a culture of lies. I was told throughout my childhood by advertising and all my elders, that dairy is a source of calcium. Scientific tests show that cow milk contains calcium, they conveniently do not mention that the human body cannot assimilate dairy and the accumulation of dairy in the body actually leeches calcium out of our bones. There are many lies around, but the greatest lie of all is that grains "fill us up" when they actually expand our stomach.
We are addicted to grain and we can't stop ourselves. Why would we create agriculture when it is so much easier to gather? We decided to work hard stripping the land and planting monocrops of wheat, rice and corn that require a lot of maintenance, simply so we can eat more grain. This is very hard work, so to take some of the burden we make more children to help. With all these additional human beings we need to grow more grain to feed them. Thus, expansion. More expansion equals more work equals more people equals more grain. Soon there are so many people it is necessary to form cities, where we can organise ourselves and divide labour so we can enjoy everything more comfortably and easily that facilitates the growing of grain.
If you do not believe me, give me another reason why we would go to the hassle to create civilisation. "God said, "Be fruitful and multiply.""? I do not believe you. A page or so later he curses us with having to toil with the earth and watching as the earth becomes dust; after the beauty and simplicity of the garden.
There is one solution that has been overlooked, that will enable our population to slowly decline, reduce violence against women rapidly, allow us to value and honour the children we already have and bring great pleasure to everyone who participates. The solution is Homosexuality. Women have been the victims of male violence for generations and it is going to take generations to perform essential and necessary act of healing this pattern of behaviour. Why have women been the target of such violence - domestic abuse, sexual violence, witch burning and marriage? To oversimplify, because they are women, because they have vaginas, because they threaten men's ability to control. The solution is homosexuality. Not only have marriage and heteronormativism removed vast areas of sexuality from human life, but the simple act of touch has been channelled into violence as its only suitable expression; wrestling being the healthiest form of this, war being the least.
All violence is a form of sexuality, and mostly it is men fighting men. The solution is Homosexuality. I believe that it is necessary for all men to be sodomised at least once in their life, otherwise a fundamental human experience has been lost and an entire aspect of the psyche has not been allowed to develop. To empathise with those who are temporarily weaker or submissive to us in some way, we need to experience the receptive. To experience the intensity of being penetrated is to empathise with the person you penetrate.
The solution is joy and love and freedom and sexuality and humanity and can be started and enjoyed immediately.
Why are there too many people on the earth? Isn't this a silly game to be playing? Surely one billion is more than enough human beings to praise Economy and Yahweh. There is evidence that in previous human societies, tribes that lasted sustainably for thousands of years, population was controlled. Some people hear that they killed foetuses and infants and disabled people and are horrified at the idea of human beings dying. There is also evidence of very simple birth-control methods involving simply awareness of a woman's menstrual cycle, surely the sort of information that was violently repressed by the Catholic Church during the Holy Inquisition, or women burnings.
My suggestion as to why there are so many people on the planet is the same reason that we created all these civilisations that are merging via globalisation into the mega-culture that will digitise the planet. Grain. Civilisation, and therefore ever-growing population, is a result of the addiction of an entire species to grain. Look around the world, every civilisation is defined by their grain. There are the American corn cultures, the Asian rice cultures and the European wheat cultures. Apparently 75% of the food eaten by humans on this planet is these three grains. When we were gatherer-hunters, back in the garden, we would have eaten a wide variety of plants, whatever was available in our environment, taking a little from each plant so the plant could continue to flourish and provide. We would never have eaten huge amounts of one thing as agriculture allows. But then we discovered grains, wheat being the most popular in the world, native to the Fertile Crescent as civilisation itself is.
Why would we create agriculture when we were living a balanced life in which nature provided us everything we needed, we did not take too much and we did not threaten our environment with over-population? Grain. We discovered grain and the more we ate the more we wanted to eat. I have noticed that when I start the day with a big bowl of satisfying comforting nutritious organic oats I am hungry again an hour or two later, much hungrier than I would otherwise have been. It is no secret that these things that we use to bulk out our meals, to "fill us up", actually expand our stomachs and therefore fail at the one task they are given. We grow up in a culture of lies. I was told throughout my childhood by advertising and all my elders, that dairy is a source of calcium. Scientific tests show that cow milk contains calcium, they conveniently do not mention that the human body cannot assimilate dairy and the accumulation of dairy in the body actually leeches calcium out of our bones. There are many lies around, but the greatest lie of all is that grains "fill us up" when they actually expand our stomach.
We are addicted to grain and we can't stop ourselves. Why would we create agriculture when it is so much easier to gather? We decided to work hard stripping the land and planting monocrops of wheat, rice and corn that require a lot of maintenance, simply so we can eat more grain. This is very hard work, so to take some of the burden we make more children to help. With all these additional human beings we need to grow more grain to feed them. Thus, expansion. More expansion equals more work equals more people equals more grain. Soon there are so many people it is necessary to form cities, where we can organise ourselves and divide labour so we can enjoy everything more comfortably and easily that facilitates the growing of grain.
If you do not believe me, give me another reason why we would go to the hassle to create civilisation. "God said, "Be fruitful and multiply.""? I do not believe you. A page or so later he curses us with having to toil with the earth and watching as the earth becomes dust; after the beauty and simplicity of the garden.
There is one solution that has been overlooked, that will enable our population to slowly decline, reduce violence against women rapidly, allow us to value and honour the children we already have and bring great pleasure to everyone who participates. The solution is Homosexuality. Women have been the victims of male violence for generations and it is going to take generations to perform essential and necessary act of healing this pattern of behaviour. Why have women been the target of such violence - domestic abuse, sexual violence, witch burning and marriage? To oversimplify, because they are women, because they have vaginas, because they threaten men's ability to control. The solution is homosexuality. Not only have marriage and heteronormativism removed vast areas of sexuality from human life, but the simple act of touch has been channelled into violence as its only suitable expression; wrestling being the healthiest form of this, war being the least.
All violence is a form of sexuality, and mostly it is men fighting men. The solution is Homosexuality. I believe that it is necessary for all men to be sodomised at least once in their life, otherwise a fundamental human experience has been lost and an entire aspect of the psyche has not been allowed to develop. To empathise with those who are temporarily weaker or submissive to us in some way, we need to experience the receptive. To experience the intensity of being penetrated is to empathise with the person you penetrate.
The solution is joy and love and freedom and sexuality and humanity and can be started and enjoyed immediately.
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