Somehow, he survived, naked and chained with bruises all over his body. He had found his way into the basement. And with the help of the discarded garments of a couple of the people whose absent lives no longer loitered about that place, he had rescued a dryer shrunken wool sweater. That and a bicycle pulled up the stairs and through a side door with which to make an escape. Pedaling furiously, he wondered how he might explain his depraved condition to his next door neighbors?
I don’t to fit into my symptoms by reading something into this first. A dangerous business speculation! Solitude can be a killer. You don’t know if it is mood or signs of oncoming mental sickness? But most likely a sense of industrial manufactured demoralization by society in total collapse ongoing downwards from above.
Can I tell you a story? A story about my youth when I myself alone wandered un-tethered still innocent of the basic mysteries of our troubled times. Those times of long before where evil was unilaterally unleashed by another version of the Synagogue of Satan as run by those whose intentions were to steal precious youth from each new generation of the fathers and mothers who had suffered through an early existence of chronic war and poverty.
Some quiet contemplative moments where personal memories from my past leaked in to remind me that the world that I once felt a part of is no longer around. Those one time friends are now far and fewer than before. And that, in the end, it is all merely a waking dream.
If I could properly explain myself to others, I would say that I am a child that does not want to grow up and never has meant to. A believer in Camelot as the only lasting eternal Utopia in consort with a not unavoidable Gotterdammerung of eventual age and tedious adulthood that one day must give out. One that was taught to me by the indirect experience of my parents. Lessons like, despite all, you have to be forward thinking despite every adversity. The only lingering problem being that no one ever really acquaints you with their ferocity and depth. So that the accompanying sense of obsessive stubborn unwillingness to surrender you are sent off into the world with is accompanied with a seething resentment inside. Something that always always an un-recalcitrant cousin that has permanently come to stay. Yet despite, one’s sense of persistent inner optimism must prevail! A fellow traveler that cannot help but see the foolishness of his fellow creatures as he verbally responds to the obvious threats about them as they time and again simply fold under the slightest pressure.
Perhaps a love that lasts comes not so much from falling in love at first sight, but instead falling in love despite of all the obstacles that they have put in front of you?
When my father had died, and I had found a reasonable place to have his remains cremated, I found myself drained of all emotion. Driving back from that final eradication of his earthly existence now heading back north only to hear a popular song from his now bygone era. “My Funny Valentine” playing on the radio of his car. Since then it has become emblematic as a song above all others which makes me think back to those many times with him in the way he once was in life.
Over the years one falls into bad habits that lead to chronic forgetfulness. You can’t recall how to write in cursive properly. You forget how to walk properly with your feet firmly planted evenly distributed on the ground. You a re absent minded of how to stand straight without quickly surrendering to simply hunching over. And your mind quickly wanders off to unfamiliar times and places.
A young woman sings in a Berlin bistro during Wiemar in the 1920s. That time now currently recognized as being not so unlike our own. Ruthless bankers from abroad plundering our once luxuriant countryside. News predominantly negative about the survivability of our species. The main players in this drama nesting at the top of hierarchy reminiscent of another fabled Enoch. This tincture of vainglorious humanity that for too long has held sway over the reigns of power now fully out of sight behind their own inventions of specious daily 24/7 gossip. The respective St. Vitus dance by those perpetually uninformed being furious in their misguided beliefs eager to replay those same old dance steps again and again. Why? Because this is all they know! Functionally illiterate since birth by some overbearing design. Long columns of those determined to hold a paper mask over their faces as long as the live. The ‘New Normal’ of those people that will not under any circumstances think, but prefer to die choking on their own sputum.
And so the game goes on! Bards from the baby boomer era dressed in hip Fedoras of their grandfather’s generation. Resplendent in mothball scented pinstriped double- breasted suit jackets. Cooing away like aging Jewish gangsters to microphones the stale words of their ancient melodies for the benefit of the latest crop of sheep. Ones that their ancestors from long ago have spent their lives out of spite to permanently damage. Lyrics all posed in verses of solemn pretension. Struck down on paper bound banalities. Each set of moldering phrases providing a serial self-perpetuating auras looking to attach their bygone fallacies on the public that these mountebanks of old so casually spew. All an act that these players meticulously adhere to so that more tender other irreconcilable beliefs may be sullied to contradict plain sight realities! ‘Work for the man far beyond your limits!’ But also starve yourself of all the joyful basics of life to prove your worth! Remember whatever your life experience tells you, you’re merely part of a much vaster team. ‘Don’t get the rest of us mad at you by going forth only for yourself!’ That private place where you can spontaneously yell out and scream as loud as you want. Where no one is around to pay you any mind.
Some foolish notion! One that tells that if we do not starve ourselves for the sake of our own communal security then we are doomed. Doomed! By the fact of a casual well-implanted knowledge since birth that such mindsets only ensure our own communal destruction. Mad geniuses of the mind from afar casting these spells of mass hysterical resolutions which only sere to demean society but not cure its ills.
Somehow, on a whim, I find myself alone upon the streets of Paris without any fixed place to stay. Going along each day from abandoned flat back into the street with no fixed idea of where I will be found the next day? So many lugubriously beset, taking up confident verbal projections of what is and what soon will be! All without the support of any form of first hand experience close to making sense of what they casually propose. Their private domains held together by emotional glue and scotch tape supplied to them by those who treat them to illusory special rights to defame the rest of us? While the world in general is supposed escape notice of all their heinous acts. Their only big stick of choice is forever embrace an expanding their lie demanding collective guilt of all others so as to encompass the entire universe about them. These lizard brain fanatics ever focused on directing thoughts of an ever-expanding cowed middle into the corral while offering their barely concealed scorn. So many of their sycophants running towards that middle to aid and abet the destruction of all. Behaving like curs eager to lap up the dregs of their past generation’s faux pas. These same old patient black beetles informing all the rest of us how we should think. You seem to find them under every overturned rock spinning their poisonous fictions as irrefutable fact.
So many others caught ‘naked’ and caught out of bounds in even more untenable situations calling out ‘WE’!.