May Day Evening Thoughts
Nontheless MAY DAY MAY DAY MAY DAY
So it seems to me, gazing on ignorant armies on Dover Beach-AKA- USA the foundational stupidity is escape. There is no fucking exit. You can transcend but you cannot walk out. Junkie Americans collect them all. Each one as Lou Reed sang is Waiting On Their Man. The Justice Man be coming. The good President is next election. Jesus comes any day. Freedom is right around the corner. Contemplating the abysmal failure of human freedom there evidently are Geological laws governing behavior for rocks on two legs, Granite Bipeds, Americans. Deng should be our next President. “To be rich is glorious.”
I personally am at 67 quite distant from all this marinated in it as I am. Of course I understood even as a child that investing in education that made one money, gobs of it, but I also understood indoctrination was good only for a little while and then the decision had to be made. Probably I figured out as a kid that investing in self alienation to make a buck on the job was also a bad idea. So about 30 then I decided that my deep self kept steering me away.
So in any case here we are and folks are I think learning how to be contortionists, for some odd sexual kick. The stimulation is erotic. Susan Sontag wrote on this topic in her essay on Art Deco. Fascist sexuality expressed by Art Deco. Voters are contortionists. Fetish identification as being like all other normal people. I no longer care.
We chose our destiny, our fate against Eternity.
Mass suicide has been chosen. Will 5,000 years pass before what was gifted to us vanish? No? Longer still, embedded in the genome, a gift that will keep giving until it can gift us no more remains invisible and controlling? 2020 is like BCE and CE. The Gospel of Scientism and not Christ Crucified is taught. Logic casually dismissed as wrong think. If then the human being exquisitely is not Imago Dei but a work of human hands is -say the State as Idol-how other than saying our machines built to please us - language to poetry-bring our senses absolute truth?
And that truth they say is only death.
If humans live as part of a larger organic machine then life is not your individual right. You belong to the machine that’s driving through. As if laying rail. The Walking Boss is your master.
Feb 2nd, `1991. Holy smokes, I was at that Jerry Garcia show at the Warfield theater in San Francisco! Many thanks for this bit of remembrance. The next day I had a one-way ticket to go to Hawaii. This, after I flipped a coin to decide whether I was going to go join the Lafayette Park drummers that were keeping up George Bush all night during his war in the Gulf, where my brother was, or leave it behind to go live on the Hawaii beaches. It came up tails and Kailua Kona it was. Things seemed complex back then, but looking back on it now, much simpler times.
I concur. The tell was there, the fate chosen, and the dice has been rolled. The era of the Hive Mind on Instagram is here. Compliance to the boss is the loss, but you belong.