@ Battlecat, Monday, Democracy Now! on the radio: J.P.
Morgan-Chase lends millions to oil/gas companies to build pipeline in Minnesota
across Native farmland, and as wildfire continues to rage in Australia, global
warming. Armed aggressors meet peaceful protesters on the plain. “When nothing is
done, nothing is left undone,” but irreligious, amoral, and warlike entities
continue to proliferate out of fear, anger, and hatred, believing perhaps in
transhumanism – that through technology somehow one might live forever in this
existence, or that loyalty to the establishment power-elite minority might
grant access to comfort, favor, and luxury, or that this is a ‘sick, sad world’
or alternately a world whose abundance is eternally exploitable to those with
gumption to extract its black, tarry bounty for firing up the rattling engine
that foreshadows massacre, and somehow one will remain untargeted by dualistic
forces abalance. It’s starting to rain.
Aramark comes to collect dirty towels, replace with clean ones. A PT-91 Twardy rumbles down the main landing
strip to a vision of unusurpable peace.
A regular menace to society, a Great Pyrenees German Shepherd hybrid
eating sticks for ruffage while his owner smokes fags for sustenance. A Mexican
with a green Skoal cap marches in, moving quickly, slowly dying to the tune of
factory farm combines. There’s the notion that the industrious will has the ability
to overpower obstacles or sneak by in camouflage. Deer moving in shadows of night move
stealthily, munch grass, are unobtrusive, a gunshot rings out, but the buck is
dead before it’s startled. Meat for a month plus blanket. Split logs for a day,
a month of heat and fuel for baking. Simplicity. Boredom seems to be a major
obstacle for many, maybe two months for marijuana. Ideas flower. Many mundane
tasks are made more manageable, enjoyable even. Many more creative, fearless,
and hyperactive publish, produce, and compose; lecture, climb mountains, and
scale walls. Across the street from the lumberyard where contractors collect
materials collected from the forest, straightened, smoothed, and treated, ready
for erection. Imagining the hotness of
now homeless nymphs, now psychotic Jennifer’s who can’t escape black mold, the
aging process. “You either die a hero,
or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain,” (“The Dark Knight”)
especially where beauty is connected to conceit, that is, how one sees
oneself in the mirror or abstractly in society amongst pretty peers one happens
to like seeing oneself around. Lesbians exit, one more androgynous than the
next, more mannish, into a Subaru, love makes the machine come and go. On the
parkway, in the backseat, two children lick each other’s lips, nipples, and
labia, age not directly related to maturity with refusal to ‘grow-up’ because
who would want to ‘become accustomed to’ the world as it is presented to us? With
every daily worst-case-scenario broadcast on the news agoraphobics eternally
justified by anchors become Anchoritic, stay close to home, hardly ever go out,
worship the cat-headed goddess of crafting, biscuit eucharist, body
transubstantiated fat, antennae steeple, private chapel. It’s not that society has become godless, but
that the Pantheon has multiplied, every logo a graven image, every materialist’s
list of materials ever expanded, every obscure belief has its own faith, and
every faith has its deities, rituals, and artifacts of a specific sense of superiority. @ Westville, super-church of Oprah on TV, a
sold-out stadium full of believers in the motivational force that encourages
those of the super-congregation to get up off their seats to dance and jump in
place in order to feel the transference of energy, dopamine, serotonin, and
endorphins secreted that express the general connectedness of all things as
professed by The Secret!
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