"Wars are fought over who owns the land, but in the end it is she who owns us. Does not one who dares to claim to possess it rest under it?"
- Cochise, Apache Chiricahua
I was not refreshed on waking - i think it’s because Bob Dylan was telling me something in my dreams · Lucky me; now if i could only spread the good fortune i’d feel better about what i do. Just singed the vegetables, did not wash the bicycle; learned an ugly truth about an icon i’d elevated in my moral cosmology based on my myopic perception, and realized at the beginning of today’s writing, i’d stiffed my readership of 3, their 5th paragraph; so how’s your day going? The upside: i pulled more dead skin from my wounded ear; managed a nap that seemed to refresh the painful part of last night’s rest and am still willing to pull my heart out through my fingertips for no other reason than to help the human species survive itself.
Maybe if i keep the paragraphs short i won’t be tempted to finish abruptly. What confounds me is the dichotomy of expressing clarity in a world “off-the-rails.” A handful of profiteers have so polluted the environment with plastic that it is now found in the organisms at the deepest parts of our oceans; i’ve read that 91% of the plastic made which has increased 200 fold between 1950 and 2015 is not recycled, and as of 20 December 2017 the “talking heads” expect an increase of 40% over the next decade - just for laughs you might look at the graph describing that increase and the one describing Covid-19 infections in the U.S.
I’ve said this elsewhere in my writing trying to convey the complexities of dear old dad - but when we would shoot the shit, me on some street corner in Hollywood and he in some supervised capacity thanks to my elder siblings; when the discussion came around to the “the world” and what was going on, however he understood that to mean at the time, his quip was usually the same, “man am i glad i’m old.” He was a deeply caring man who suffered all that any pilot who crushed one of his own crew due to failed brakes on a B-17 bomber might, yet his orientation was always in support of the “little guy.” He put his money where his mouth was as a career High School English teacher and long time union representative.
As one of his sons who witnessed his life up close, it is for those reasons i refuse to relinquish the floor to the mythology of meaning that the social engineers today are shoving down the gullet of a population faced with its own extinction for no better reason than the caprice of a pampered gentry made fat on no more than the +/- 5v impulses flashing before your very eyes as you try to decipher my meaning. The only weapons in my arsenal of resistance are words, and logic to put them in an order that might help you to understand the danger you are in, and to encourage you to save yourselves and the lives of those you love.
If that is even possible - the chief scientist at googol is staking the future of our species on the transformation from the carbon-based organisms we inhabit to some silicon based android of an indeterminate but corporate sponsored design. The conceit is based on a mythical state of technological development described as the singularity - "a hypothetical point in time at which technological growth becomes uncontrollable and and irreversible, resulting in unforeseeable changes to human civilization." It is for this reason and others that the princes of the world seem to have no compunction about hoarding the world’s wherewithal, for they like the nazi sympathizer Walt Disney, whose remains are stored in liquid nitrogen, are waiting to “upload” what they believe to be invaluable about the human condition - their minds, ergo their egos. You and the struggles you have lived through are unimportant to these conceited fools. The only thing they believe is important is the preservation of their silly egos - and on that note · i bid you good night and sweet dreams.
jts 12/07/2020
http://stoanartst.blogspot.com
reprinted with permission - all rights reserved
∞
No comments:
Post a Comment