We can’t all be soft if we wish to enjoy the luxuries
we have grown accustomed to rely upon tomorrow. Soft sciences unfortunately
do little to progress technology as we know it today. There are of course
two schools of thought concerning technological communication today.
One, that it brings us close together, two, that it drives us further apart.
Ever since man mastered fire, dark rites and rituals were known
to exist, gathered around an open flame in the night, people congregated
and gave glory to the mystery as it misrepresents itself underneath a flickering
cloak of constant change, erosion, and finally death as the leftover ashes
slowly extinguish themselves, starved of interest. Ever since man learned
to control fire, fire worshippers set out in the dark, even bringing it underground
so as to more fully understand how to wield its power and put it to use like
the gods they envisaged might. Shards of disillusionment shed from the sun
brought into a cave allowed men to splash walls with light from the inside-out, to
give birth to strange, undiscovered worlds that would
come forth, and present themselves (the creatures manifest therein)
if not upon the earth or in the seas and skies, then in the ironworks and forges of smelting
craft that developed into even more rigid geometric shapes transposed from what once flowed,
now fixed, like a fish hooked from a stream or a butterfly impaled upon
a pin. Alas! Men paid dearly for this fixed knowledge that could not only
be explained, but be seen in the night, shadows upon walls that cast
unfamiliar, yet recognizable floating figures of contrast at a tangent
to radiance. Puppeteers, story-tellers, and men behind masks emerged and gathered
assemblies of the curious and convincingly told lies under the influence
of incense, first to themselves, and then to the community at large.
“Dissenters be damned! The gods grow angry as you blaspheme!
A poor harvest is the only proof you should need, and you should fear
my authority for my closeness, if not oneness with those terrible eternal
powers who cause one to tremble, another to weep, and a third to
faint to the floor without any physical prodding by me!”
*Q-Drums* Boogie-Boogie
Dancers (if you can call them that) suffer fits of paroxysm and ululate.
we have grown accustomed to rely upon tomorrow. Soft sciences unfortunately
do little to progress technology as we know it today. There are of course
two schools of thought concerning technological communication today.
One, that it brings us close together, two, that it drives us further apart.
Ever since man mastered fire, dark rites and rituals were known
to exist, gathered around an open flame in the night, people congregated
and gave glory to the mystery as it misrepresents itself underneath a flickering
cloak of constant change, erosion, and finally death as the leftover ashes
slowly extinguish themselves, starved of interest. Ever since man learned
to control fire, fire worshippers set out in the dark, even bringing it underground
so as to more fully understand how to wield its power and put it to use like
the gods they envisaged might. Shards of disillusionment shed from the sun
brought into a cave allowed men to splash walls with light from the inside-out, to
give birth to strange, undiscovered worlds that would
come forth, and present themselves (the creatures manifest therein)
if not upon the earth or in the seas and skies, then in the ironworks and forges of smelting
craft that developed into even more rigid geometric shapes transposed from what once flowed,
now fixed, like a fish hooked from a stream or a butterfly impaled upon
a pin. Alas! Men paid dearly for this fixed knowledge that could not only
be explained, but be seen in the night, shadows upon walls that cast
unfamiliar, yet recognizable floating figures of contrast at a tangent
to radiance. Puppeteers, story-tellers, and men behind masks emerged and gathered
assemblies of the curious and convincingly told lies under the influence
of incense, first to themselves, and then to the community at large.
“Dissenters be damned! The gods grow angry as you blaspheme!
A poor harvest is the only proof you should need, and you should fear
my authority for my closeness, if not oneness with those terrible eternal
powers who cause one to tremble, another to weep, and a third to
faint to the floor without any physical prodding by me!”
*Q-Drums* Boogie-Boogie
Dancers (if you can call them that) suffer fits of paroxysm and ululate.
While laughter is known to be the best medicine, it should
be noted that
there are those who have ingested so many inferior medicines that they
have forgotten how to use laughter’s truly cathartic nature to their utmost
benefit! This fact I find truly disconcerting. Sure, there are those
who get their yuks, chuckles, and scoffs in, but a hearty recognition
of honest excellence is oft missed by those pantheistic polyscientists
who rely on anachronistic thought patterns to sustain their Ego while
not keeping up-to-date or remaining stuck-in-the-gutter when the moment arrives.
How many among us will deny our feelings for fear of being seen?
(As if anyone is looking or even cares)? Who are we really denying?
And how will that denial be accomplished? How many among us call our
shame-pride and our pride-shame? Relegated to the bedroom, the bathroom,
and other appropriate places for inappropriateness where we fuck, shit,
and gorge ourselves to sleep by easing ourselves there with easily exhaustibles,
like limited quantities of drugs for which we rush out in the morning for, darkly,
moodily, or grudgingly, yet with a sense of urgency that pushes others aside.
Our daily successes nullified by our daily failures that come out flat
and judicial. If anything in our lives were ever done lovingly, how would
that action look, sound, taste, or feel? (Perhaps like ambrosia, a thoughtful gift, or
a present full of presence). I was there the moment I was conceived and
I wanted it, I wanted more, the pain, the pleasure, and the spiritual fulfillment.
What are we thinking nowadays? Who is in our thoughts/minds? How and why
has that pattern changed over time? Aesthetic appeal I’m guessing. Is this
not what you wanted? Make me an ass. SOH-CAH-TOA@Epoxy-Kaboom!
have forgotten how to use laughter’s truly cathartic nature to their utmost
benefit! This fact I find truly disconcerting. Sure, there are those
who get their yuks, chuckles, and scoffs in, but a hearty recognition
of honest excellence is oft missed by those pantheistic polyscientists
who rely on anachronistic thought patterns to sustain their Ego while
not keeping up-to-date or remaining stuck-in-the-gutter when the moment arrives.
How many among us will deny our feelings for fear of being seen?
(As if anyone is looking or even cares)? Who are we really denying?
And how will that denial be accomplished? How many among us call our
shame-pride and our pride-shame? Relegated to the bedroom, the bathroom,
and other appropriate places for inappropriateness where we fuck, shit,
and gorge ourselves to sleep by easing ourselves there with easily exhaustibles,
like limited quantities of drugs for which we rush out in the morning for, darkly,
moodily, or grudgingly, yet with a sense of urgency that pushes others aside.
Our daily successes nullified by our daily failures that come out flat
and judicial. If anything in our lives were ever done lovingly, how would
that action look, sound, taste, or feel? (Perhaps like ambrosia, a thoughtful gift, or
a present full of presence). I was there the moment I was conceived and
I wanted it, I wanted more, the pain, the pleasure, and the spiritual fulfillment.
What are we thinking nowadays? Who is in our thoughts/minds? How and why
has that pattern changed over time? Aesthetic appeal I’m guessing. Is this
not what you wanted? Make me an ass. SOH-CAH-TOA@Epoxy-Kaboom!
Make me what I am today!
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