What to do if the gun that you are shooting runs out of bullets? Or in case you haven’t noticed the phrase, “I feel as if I am being slowly starved to death!” Plenty of unacknowledged historical precedent around the world for that. Not only of food but of finding possibility in the future. There seems to be no room for the dreams of the aged in a world that can barely support the aspirations of the young. Many quietly ask themselves, “Does that mean that I am to be put out in a deserted part of the forest as a meal for wolves?” Metaphorically speaking, or maybe much more viscerally so, I believe that most of us have. The material obsessed corporate world doesn’t cotton to media designated losers or high waged non-producers. It daily writes a script that gets to call the tune as to what is fundamentally reasonable and what is lightheaded folly. Most days the logic of the two are purposefully reversed with the express purpose to confuse and create uncertainty. Better the consumer experience controlled uncertainty about the same old products re-dressed in thinly veiled colors than the other way around where real competition changes their business plan.
There is a certain amount of safety in numbers. If you are part of a tight knit group one increases their odds of experiencing a lesser degree of disruption. That is, unless you make it your business to let it into your life. Check out those rusty junkyard boom boxes with temporary plates that circle those doubtful paradises of urban ghettos as they stutter blame and discontent upon the mainstream of society. No doubt because the handouts afforded by ‘Big Fat Momma Welfare’ have been a bit more meager that usual. The alternate experience is of course anything considered comedy or drama on networked TV where the guy who still is expected to bring home the bacon each night becomes both boob and butt. His life experienced by howling primitive rituals of envious others who can only find their own personal solace in denigrating his at ever opportunity times two. The fact that the latest television monitors sold to “John and Mary Q Public” watch you as much or more than you watch them speaks volumes.
Part of the experience of life’s conundrum of existence is finding a certain degree of passion within the experiencing of it. A goal or a purpose, however trivial can act as the motivation for a life plan. The problem comes when the plan is no longer valid or no longer holds any attraction to the one that devised it. In a land where triviality has replaced the focus once afforded to common sense the devil is in the suspension of detail. Conveniently transparent soundbyte packaged scapegoats come and go every few days and the continual task of picking up the pieces of ceiling strewn about the room from the sky falling in on those occasions leaves one with a brain fraught by mental rubble. Clear thinking becomes impossible when daily existence is mired down in empty headed minutia of sports and who is wearing what and fucking who. The projected mirror of consumer identities also known as the movies is no longer designed to fit the expansive proportions of what was once considered ‘normal’ expectations for a comfortable life. Like a bad suit of clothes marketed at a Costco or Target contemporary existence is currently designed for someone of perfect Asian dimensions but not for the traditionally bilious proportions of older Europeans.
One might notice that the ultimate goal of those leaving youth from adolescence is to get all inked up sporting a rock hard six-pack. A perfect analogy for a future lifetime of continual diminished expectations and life under corporate custodians that consider all others as marketable ‘human resources.’ The state created revolution of the Internet providing the ultimate Judas goat for societies foolish enough to post all their resources upon it’s butcher block platform. Life expectancy of the human mind will continue to plummet towards single digits as the modern urban primitive movement for nose rings takes virtual hold. The slippery hard rock of morals will erode to dust that will blow back and forth solely governed on self-interest in a manner that continues to appease the powers that be. If your offspring are lucky they may be accorded the occasional honor of prize bull or calf held at the annual culling of the herd. Perhaps at this point those Ranids known as our reader might notice that their limbs and torso are beginning to boil over a bit. That is because the fingers controlling the burners below the pot might be getting a bit more anxious for their nightly portion of cuisses de grenouilles!
Some men grow up waiting for their entire lives for something magnificent to happen. Along the way perfecting themselves as if anticipating that one perfect moment when they are called to the stage to ascend to the heaven that they have always imagined has been there for them alone. But fate is not that clever in its cruelty and these men must suffer the ignominy of a hundred thousand little losses that one day will amount to the immense ocean of bygone chances that along the way were ignored. And one day near the end of their existence, these men will realize that what they thought was so monumental a feat was after all so ridiculously easily within their grasp from the first.
I suppose that what I have always wanted was simply to be loved. Not loved in the temporal sense or in a carnal fashion but recognized for myself in all the best aspects that in my heart I knew that I always possessed. But life lived long over into decades taught me in time the petty shallowness that my fellow creatures chose to indulge in over those unguarded unconscious impulses that might have continued on that world of childlike wonder. And in time, I like other put on a gray suit and walked about in solitude within the desert of humanity that were packed shoulder to shoulder outside my grasp.
If one is in any doubt that the life of a man or a woman has any rhyme or reason or purpose, then let them live long enough till their mistakes are unable to be counted in numbers yet as a whole are so easily classified as to boil down to a single one. Those who cannot come to believe in their majesty of their own existence are forever fated to search outside themselves in vain for a substitute that does not exist.in life but only in their heads.
Who has more to fear? The intellectual or the average Joe? Intellectuals seems to have to overturn every stone and explain the process of same. Average Joe’s merely has to pick it up without a second thought and fling it as the whim demands then move on to the next moment in favor of something else. The intellectual has to know all the facts and details and mold them into the iron box of a foolproof theory. Joe’s just need to believe what’s directly under his feet is reasonably stable enough to be there tomorrow. It seems at face value that skepticism is a never ending process of irrational disbelief while a sense of incontestable faith allows one to sleep peacefully at night.
All humanity seems bound to suffer the same progressions up and down the hill of life, past the customary mileposts of youth, middle age and aged. The perspectives of the creatures experiencing may vary but the conclusion remains the same. Death is the great leveler. Though many have perished over time as we know it, no one can produce anyone who has compact to tell the rest of us, what to expect. To be overly concerned about the truths or falsehoods of so many urban legends is to be in fear of them. Acceptance and belief int he natural order of chaos as organized by the fundamental laws that govern the larger universe seems more peaceful.
It is not the most comforting position to be cast within to see a brand of truth that is inconvenient to the times. How does one pick up their notions to begin with anyway and worse yet, come to really trust in their veracity to the point that they are willing to continually re-evaluate them? The worst part is when the old Journalistic maxim of finding three reliable independent overlapping accounts or more, much more, lead one to adapt a particular viewpoint that sends them paddling down the wrong end of the stream. Being ‘right’ or close to same is a bitch. So what am I claiming? Bragging rights to believe in within an artificial world constructed from consensus based conclusions that draw their strength primarily from the currency of popularity? Or simply nothing . . .!
I don’t believe any of it!
I don’t believe that people who claim to be avowed Socialists can ever being doing more than occasionally tooting their horns from the windows of their luxury condos. I don’t believe that the evil corporations are somehow completely divorced from those who so vehemently disavow their monopolistic practices when they lounge about at the latest gallery opening in their custom store bought designer clothes. I don’t believe that the very people who are so obviously are in love with the type of ‘good life’ that money and connection can buy would seriously jeopardize their stock options by flipping the bird at the next untelevised protest against ‘big Pharma’. Nor would they ever think to publicly cast an eye askance a the lack of transparency of their god incarnate on earth, Mr. O.B as he reneges on every campaign promise that he makes. There are a lot of things almost never ending!
I don’t believe . . .
What I do believe in is that a bunch of hypocrites are soon to begin to anti up for their self-serving solipsism’s in allowing their support to go to politicians and outside foreign countries that claim fraternity. But then work hard throughout the day and night to usurp the most fundamental pillars of the rule of law that this nation has rightly or wrongly struggled to preserve. I don’t believe that ‘we’ can go on any longer playing ‘nice nice’ at parties pouring out gourmet wine in each other’s glasses on the edge of a real ghetto full of a low life underclass whose scrubbier ill educated members would be immediately arrested if they ventured too far north into the gated communities that these party goers live in. Or would certainly be given a second glance if they crashed this party. Except perhaps a suspicious fearful one from the corner of an eye watching their artfully beaded purses to make sure that they don’t get pilfered. I don’t want to hear about Bob Avakian or any other old Commie warhorses when I see the level of damage currently being done by Wall Street funded political minorities trying to intimidate the rest of ‘us’ into a form of belief that is an anathema to our majority’s belief systems. I don’t want to see anymore old couples thrown in the street because they lost their mortgage and their social security won’t cover heating bills and enough food to eat from the same monthly check. I don’t believe we need to attack another sovereign nation that has different beliefs just because our ‘biggest allies’ want to benefit from it but can’t step up to the plate and do the dirty work themselves. There is so much I don’t believe in!
I guess that makes me an infidel, the preferred term for a non-believer.
The trouble is that I do read history, frequently, online, and in dusty old books published in different generations and too often take the liberty to draw my own conclusions. The trouble is that many others are beginning to do the same thing and no longer believing in the artful deceitful streams of technologically driven bullshit. And that spells real trouble alright!
The current era of modernity is based upon a pseudo religion called ‘science’. Like most religions of currency from the past, it ascribes its tenets as being universal by the fact of consensus of belief. Of course many argue that in the case of science the medium is the massage as opposed to the result that it self of course pales before the means of finding same. The result of science is held up much in the same fashion that previous organized churches held that the result of righteous life is heaven. Both in a sense are ‘pie in the sky’ for the fact that the universe seems to be ever shifting or rather more accurately, the more extended reach of mankind’s sensory ability the more that theories have to accommodate increasingly unfamiliar phenomena.
OK, say the atheists, but this does not prove anything! Especially when the argument however new or old is run through the philosophical blender known as General Semantics. Rhetoricians, and lawyers, are especially adept at distorting the polyhedra of any argument and bending rational logic under the assumption of a mantle of higher knowledge. The usefulness of its claims becomes unavoidably utilitarian in the sense of it empowering politics to drive for the masses of organized humanity forth toward a highly organized unilateral agenda flying under the banner of a betterment of all. Still this does not answer the biggest of mankind’s most eternal questions of the juncture of life and death. This is a province where bereft of an intellectual hand to hold atheists halt and those who give credence to belief unhesitatingly tread. Magic holds sway over the senses whether scientific or animistic. Though some might claim that any given soul has an incremental weight of 21 grams, it avoids the larger question of its simple presence and the effect that it has upon the lives that surround it. Shouldn’t the universe be reckoned more in terms of the dynamics of the contrast of that which is alive in contrast to that which appear inert? The pessimistic notion that life is but a waiting game for individuals in service to a greater whole seems misplaced to anyone who allows themselves to freely contemplate the universe between a microcosm stretching endlessly to a seemingly eternal macrocosm.
For those locked in the necessity of perpetual casuistry as being the only proper motivation for extensive mental postulating, working well within the set boundaries of ‘fence posts’ strictly governed by the rules, could one not prove with equal validity any given individual fantasy to the contrary if the factor of the art of universal persuasion is honestly counted? Perhaps, the experience of life, at any given juncture, is the catalyst for determining the ‘uncertainty’ of the experiment? Are we not all tasked with using the gifts as we each uniquely possess to farm and fertilize during the course of what eventually becomes an all too short existence?
Their is a useful cause and effect of being born again into an established religion. Now forgive me if I sound like I am singling out any given branch or major flavor of same for the usual agnostic disdain. What I am suggesting, based upon some recent events with current practitioners and now, unfortunately, former friends of my own is this. The ability to conveniently rope off whole section of one’s life experience as being dangerous to their soul seems a bit counterproductive to that mystical sense of connection that these belief systems seem to promote. That seeming, “your either with us or ‘agin’ us”, style of surmise is definitely a minimizer so far as any workable proselytization in favor of ‘the good news’ of bringing others into ‘our’ fold. The method of choosing afforded the prospective parishioner somewhat curious yet not too much different than the canon of historical choices afforded by the major branches. These have included, “convert or we charge you a annual tax“, “convert or we lend you money and take over your land and children“, and the always popular, “convert or we run your city streets red with rivers of your blood!” Please note that all of these aforementioned alternatives to the soul saving management process all have a direct tie in to the overall politics and governance of humanity at large that the smaller less populous sects could only dream of. So it seems that these congregational ‘pee wees’ must make the best of those equally ever popular events, the ‘second coming’ and a ‘rapturous’ departure sans one’s duds, to whip up a small but faithful constituency. Whoops, sorry, not making fun but just making a point.
You can’t fault groups of people for trashing theTV’s and circling the wagons considering how toxic and satanically diabolical the atheistic mass media has become. I think that life kinda stinks if you don’t have some solid set of affirmative beliefs to carry one through! And though I am sure that none of them admit to playing too much Nintendo, I would also suspect that their world view of the rest of humanity beyond their tightly focused beliefs would seem like participation in an endless “Resident Evil” games marathon. I have to admit no little amount of envy on my own part in terms of having secure membership that allows me clear focus in terms of an absolute right and wrong. And forgive me if in viewing nature and the apparent unintelligible enigma of the surrounding mantle of the universe, that I cannot help but, at best, see an ever shifting sense of orderly chaos. But then in terms of the same argument, there is the vastness and the boundless capacity of my own ego to consider. How could it seem to be any other way?
What is very apparent in our current an ever repeating sense of ceaseless crisis that we as a simple subset of all species both large and small unconsciously conform to. Our general sense of existence as a singular organism being made up of smaller components of same which are collectively locked together holding hands in an eternal cycle. Condemned, it seems, to walk in the boot shaped troughs of an ancient lineage of earlier relatives who have preceded us uninterrupted far back into the foggy mists of time. Maybe that insight gives me a leg up on another branch of very old practitioners, who if nothing else in their beliefs, take the longest view?