What is that on your shoes? Why is that bird on your shirt? What makes those jeans two hundred dollars and these twelve? What the fuck? They all made in the same third world sweat shops. The same kids are tortured and maimed. Its all the same crap. Buy more though. Don't stop. The crap will make you happy. So happy, that is their promise. The commercial on the television Says if I buy these jeans I'll be surrounded by beautiful women. They will caress me. They will love me only because I'm wearing the most fashionable crap. A great man once said, “People would rather be buried under a pile of warm shit than live out in the cold air of truth.” Consume, buy just what they are telling you. I'm sure it will really make you happy. I'm sure you really need a fifty dollar pair of socks.
I can't stand it honestly. Work more than forty hours a week saving up for things you will never need. Slaving away for a lifestyle that is completely meaningless. I don't want to be anyone's slave. I don't want to consume anymore. It really doesn't mean anything to me. Coca Cola fuck off!
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
A Fall
Let us take a walk, follow me to the edge of this building. The climb up here was very tough wasn't it? Did you say a hundred flights to the top? I guess the elevator is still out of order than? I have been up here for a long time. I've been looking down at this city. Don't worry we can't fall off from this ledge. I've fallen enough times in my life, once more wouldn't be so bad anyway. I didn't mean to trouble you my friend. Are you cold? It can be chilly out here exposed to the world. Here take my coat. Its a rather nice one isn't it? I never buy new anymore, I always thrift things like this, you see people are giving up on things to quickly. Consumerism I suppose.
Oh, lets not talk politics, I don't really feel to safe talking about them anymore. People do not look on happily when I get on about them. I do not think that many people agree with me anymore. Look down there, how is your eyesight? Mine is awful, I can only see blurs, I can imagine though. I imagine a scene on the street, I see a young man walking home. He has had a few to drink. He walks down the street, and into an alley. A man robs him, the robbery goes bad, and the poor kid is killed. He bleeds to death in the street all alone. Shot dead for money. Why is money so important? Would you kill for money?
Here, I brought up a bottle of wine for us to share. Of course, you know me to well, it is a red table. I know you prefer a blush, but I just can not get used to that sweet stuff. Look at these beautiful wine glasses, my friend bought me them while she was on vacation to Europe. Very fine glass. She was too kind. I really told her I could hardly accept such a generous offer. I know you think this red wine is bitter, but give it a chance, it will really warm you up. Take a seat, beside me as we look off into the night.
The city is so bright, even so late at night. It blocks out the stars. I believe they call it light pollution. Strange, even our light pollutes. Is the world sick? I think it may be. We shouldn't worry about that too much, oh you've finished your glass, let me refill it. I can hear something. Off in the distance, it is faint but beautiful. Somewhere, someone is trying to find themselves. They are singing. Beautiful voice they have. What I would give to have had a little musical talent. Did you know I had fantasies of being a great artist when I was young? I used to dream of being a performer too. When we were little it was easy to imagine big. Now my perspective shrinks every day. Life is no longer the dream of extravagance. The biggest joy in my life is at the bottle of that bottle. I finish a bottle and fall asleep.
I think I am getting old. Life isn't lovely, it isn't joyous. I just struggle to etch out enough to buy a bottle. I finish the bottle, and then, tomorrow it is all the same. Don't worry, my illusions of potential faded away along time ago. Is this place that wonderful? I can imagine if I lived anywhere else I may have felt the same. Disgusted, defeated, apathetic, and broken. I was broken before I was born. You see, they have a policy in this country, if you are born poor, than you are supposed to stay poor. I am destined to remain as much.
Being poor has its advantages though. If they take everything from you it doesn't amount to much. They could take everything and I wouldn't worry. So, I am here, with you, and an empty bottle. Can I tell you about a dream I had? I dreamt that I had fallen off a skyscraper. I fell hard and fast, but never reached the bottom. Instead I would always just return to me beginning the climb all over again. It confused me greatly. I hear that a person who dreams of falling believes that their life is out of control. Is my life out of control? I left and looked for this building. I found it and climbed to the top. I've been up here every night.
Can I ask you a question? If I fell, to far to try to climb again, would you go on without me? I dreamt, and I also climbed these stairs too many times. How many times can we climb these same stairs, how many falls before we can't get up again? If we both went crashing down what would happen? Maybe I've had to much wine. Maybe I'm sick of the falls. When we were young did you imagine life would involve so many struggles? Did your parents ever tell you that it might never feel worth it, but you have to just keep on going for no other reason, than the only way to stop is to die? No, I guess we aren't told that, we are just told it will be alright, and to keep working at it. I'm tired my friend, maybe its been too many glasses of wine.
I'd get up but I don't have the strength, what is this? You'll help me up? There are so many stairs, you would exhaust yourself climbing down them with me? You are a friend indeed, let us leave, I understand what my dream meant now, we only fall because we are alone, and sometimes someone helping us along is enough to keep us on our feet, and if we both fall, well than hopefully we can find more help. Maybe if everyone would just lookout for each other, and help one another than this world could be a better place.
Oh, lets not talk politics, I don't really feel to safe talking about them anymore. People do not look on happily when I get on about them. I do not think that many people agree with me anymore. Look down there, how is your eyesight? Mine is awful, I can only see blurs, I can imagine though. I imagine a scene on the street, I see a young man walking home. He has had a few to drink. He walks down the street, and into an alley. A man robs him, the robbery goes bad, and the poor kid is killed. He bleeds to death in the street all alone. Shot dead for money. Why is money so important? Would you kill for money?
Here, I brought up a bottle of wine for us to share. Of course, you know me to well, it is a red table. I know you prefer a blush, but I just can not get used to that sweet stuff. Look at these beautiful wine glasses, my friend bought me them while she was on vacation to Europe. Very fine glass. She was too kind. I really told her I could hardly accept such a generous offer. I know you think this red wine is bitter, but give it a chance, it will really warm you up. Take a seat, beside me as we look off into the night.
The city is so bright, even so late at night. It blocks out the stars. I believe they call it light pollution. Strange, even our light pollutes. Is the world sick? I think it may be. We shouldn't worry about that too much, oh you've finished your glass, let me refill it. I can hear something. Off in the distance, it is faint but beautiful. Somewhere, someone is trying to find themselves. They are singing. Beautiful voice they have. What I would give to have had a little musical talent. Did you know I had fantasies of being a great artist when I was young? I used to dream of being a performer too. When we were little it was easy to imagine big. Now my perspective shrinks every day. Life is no longer the dream of extravagance. The biggest joy in my life is at the bottle of that bottle. I finish a bottle and fall asleep.
I think I am getting old. Life isn't lovely, it isn't joyous. I just struggle to etch out enough to buy a bottle. I finish the bottle, and then, tomorrow it is all the same. Don't worry, my illusions of potential faded away along time ago. Is this place that wonderful? I can imagine if I lived anywhere else I may have felt the same. Disgusted, defeated, apathetic, and broken. I was broken before I was born. You see, they have a policy in this country, if you are born poor, than you are supposed to stay poor. I am destined to remain as much.
Being poor has its advantages though. If they take everything from you it doesn't amount to much. They could take everything and I wouldn't worry. So, I am here, with you, and an empty bottle. Can I tell you about a dream I had? I dreamt that I had fallen off a skyscraper. I fell hard and fast, but never reached the bottom. Instead I would always just return to me beginning the climb all over again. It confused me greatly. I hear that a person who dreams of falling believes that their life is out of control. Is my life out of control? I left and looked for this building. I found it and climbed to the top. I've been up here every night.
Can I ask you a question? If I fell, to far to try to climb again, would you go on without me? I dreamt, and I also climbed these stairs too many times. How many times can we climb these same stairs, how many falls before we can't get up again? If we both went crashing down what would happen? Maybe I've had to much wine. Maybe I'm sick of the falls. When we were young did you imagine life would involve so many struggles? Did your parents ever tell you that it might never feel worth it, but you have to just keep on going for no other reason, than the only way to stop is to die? No, I guess we aren't told that, we are just told it will be alright, and to keep working at it. I'm tired my friend, maybe its been too many glasses of wine.
I'd get up but I don't have the strength, what is this? You'll help me up? There are so many stairs, you would exhaust yourself climbing down them with me? You are a friend indeed, let us leave, I understand what my dream meant now, we only fall because we are alone, and sometimes someone helping us along is enough to keep us on our feet, and if we both fall, well than hopefully we can find more help. Maybe if everyone would just lookout for each other, and help one another than this world could be a better place.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
The Beast
Today I saw a monster. It was an awful sight. The creature fed off the flesh and blood of the poor. It toyed with them before it slaughtered them. This creature was capable of any evil imaginable. It clawed out the eyes of those who saw through its lies. It ripped out the tongue of those who spoke out against it. This beast was built with avarice. Its hunger is insatiable. If it can't get all it wants out of the people around it, it will pop up anywhere in the world. No, one is safe from it. Greed, and terror are its strongest weapons.
I saw the beast convince to brothers to turn against each other. He let them tear each other apart, promising the winner some of the dirty little green paper it lines its home with. The creature doesn't care if its killing women, or children. It only cares that it is being fed. It keeps eating no matter how many lives it destroys.
I saw a town ravished by this thing. It was empty, the people had been consumed for standing against it. A terrible awful sight. The creature is not naked, it wears a cape, three colored. It covers up its disgusting appearance with it. He uses the cape to sneak up on people, lulling them in to a false sense of safety, and then he consumes them.
I've seen him tell the people, before he slaughters them, “I'm here for peace, I'm here to bring democracy.” We know what these words really mean to it. Its here to feed.
The beast has a pigs nose. That way its agents in their blue terror coats can recognize their master. He tells them to find anyone who disobeys him, and to rape, kill, and torture them. The blue demons are glad to oblige. The kind of creature that dawns his uniform to hurt his friends for money and power is sick. These little blue demons are awful. They smell too. You can usually smell them when they walk into an establishment. It takes a little while to realize what you are smelling. They smell of decay. The scent of the rotten corpses that they themselves, and the fellow members of their gang have collected. Each one of these creatures will kill you if they feel the need. Terrifying.
I was confronted by this creature, I looked into his eyes, I understood where he and his agents were going. I even learned his name. I vowed never to be a part of the horror he wreaks across the globe. I dreamed one day that he could be stopped. No more slaves. No more endless appetite of insatiable greed. Until that day I will always only whisper his name, never with pride, always with hate, and anger. America, murder of children, exploiter of the poor, demon beast unfit for hell. Go away. Leave the people alone. Stop hurting others for you greed.
I saw the beast convince to brothers to turn against each other. He let them tear each other apart, promising the winner some of the dirty little green paper it lines its home with. The creature doesn't care if its killing women, or children. It only cares that it is being fed. It keeps eating no matter how many lives it destroys.
I saw a town ravished by this thing. It was empty, the people had been consumed for standing against it. A terrible awful sight. The creature is not naked, it wears a cape, three colored. It covers up its disgusting appearance with it. He uses the cape to sneak up on people, lulling them in to a false sense of safety, and then he consumes them.
I've seen him tell the people, before he slaughters them, “I'm here for peace, I'm here to bring democracy.” We know what these words really mean to it. Its here to feed.
The beast has a pigs nose. That way its agents in their blue terror coats can recognize their master. He tells them to find anyone who disobeys him, and to rape, kill, and torture them. The blue demons are glad to oblige. The kind of creature that dawns his uniform to hurt his friends for money and power is sick. These little blue demons are awful. They smell too. You can usually smell them when they walk into an establishment. It takes a little while to realize what you are smelling. They smell of decay. The scent of the rotten corpses that they themselves, and the fellow members of their gang have collected. Each one of these creatures will kill you if they feel the need. Terrifying.
I was confronted by this creature, I looked into his eyes, I understood where he and his agents were going. I even learned his name. I vowed never to be a part of the horror he wreaks across the globe. I dreamed one day that he could be stopped. No more slaves. No more endless appetite of insatiable greed. Until that day I will always only whisper his name, never with pride, always with hate, and anger. America, murder of children, exploiter of the poor, demon beast unfit for hell. Go away. Leave the people alone. Stop hurting others for you greed.
Short Stuff
Take a note for me. I'm sick of the American government, It models itself after the Third Reich. I'm sick of its fascist guards of the state marching around beating up kids. The police should not carry arms! They are too irresponsible with them. Lock up all the sycophant murderer cops, and empty the prisons. I got a word on the tip of my tongue. Every abuse of the state pushes it further out. Revolution.
Friday, July 24, 2009
50
I live life perched on a precious, albeit precarious pendulum. Some days it swings down into deep miseries of existential despair, and fears of bondage bred from state terror. Others it swings up, full of hope, vigor, and a lust for life; leaving me stronger than I had been before the first swing. Come what it may, but life with all its hope and despair is still just so beautiful.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
An Existential Dilemma of Little Concern
I have some alarming news for you. Life inherently has no special purpose. There is no easy meaning. No book will give you the answers. Life is a random occurrence. A bouquet of flowers in a sea of misery. Its not so bad to mean nothing when it begins. When life begins we are merely the ejaculation of semen into some woman. This grows into an ugly clump of cells, and in time it becomes a little weak pathetic creature. We call its weakness innocence, because it hasn't been corrupted by the awful world we've built. We all share this origin, but then we end up taking different paths to establish our own personal meaning upon an unjust universe.
Why then, if we are born without meaning do we end up with so many philosophies of hate? Religion, Consumerism, Racism, and Jingoism. I just can't really understand why so many people choose to find meaning in other people's suffering.
No matter how many times you say it you ultra-conservative-bourgeois elites, I will not believe poverty is caused by the poor being lazy. I will not believe that you are better and as such deserve more. I will not believe that if we all pitch in for a better future for everyone, the world will end. I want the workers to be protected from you. None of your lies will ever get to me. We are people, as such I don't believe any of us should be offered a higher stake of the commonwealth of humanity. This world is ours, we have to take care of it, and share it.
No, I still don't believe healthcare for all will ruin the medical system. If doctors start making less money they will not all leave. In fact universal health care will only lead to better professionals, ones who even if they are making less money are not in it for the money.
The thing is, I respect everyone's right to create their own meaning, as long as it doesn't hurt or exploit anyone else. The meaning I've found for this awful universe on this awful planet which we lease is simple, I want peace, love, and Freedom. Not to hard to grasp. I don't feel like I see enough of these things anymore. The world is always fighting each other these days. Nobody talks, nobody listens, its just murder and guns. People have forgotten about peace and its beauty. Stop fighting please. Freedom, I would love to say that I see a lot of freedom, but I don't. I do not see any freedom at all. A boy told me he thought I needed to know about freedom, he was unable to enlighten me. We are not free, and it is a shame. Freedom is so precious, each moment we remain in bondage robs us of a second will never have back. We're going to die, we are going to age, and the longer we go without freedom the more it will feel like our lungs are going without air. Suffocate. Love, the hippies used to believe love could conquer hate and in its victory dethrone all the other evils of this system. They failed, now they're getting stoned in the woods. Love is important, but I don't see much of it anymore. Where did all the love go? I think it left. Love is like the newborn baby, we see its innocence and some how hope that it will remove all of our failures from us. Love is seen as the way to cure us of our inadequacies, free us from the mundane lives we are forced to lead. I don't see this anymore, love is becoming sick. Bloated by ultra-capitalism. It perverts everything it touches. Love becomes a joke, when it can be bought and sold at such low rates. Love, peace, and freedom. Such simple desires, so far away.
The dilemma has in it a question, once we put forward a desire for a better future, how far do we go? I want to see everyone live authentic lives enriched with peace, love, and freedom. I want to see the end of the ultra-police state. I want to see people saying no to greed, to consumerism. I want world peace. I suppose these desires are absurd and unrealistic, but heck I warned you this rant would merely be an existential dilemma of little concern.
Why then, if we are born without meaning do we end up with so many philosophies of hate? Religion, Consumerism, Racism, and Jingoism. I just can't really understand why so many people choose to find meaning in other people's suffering.
No matter how many times you say it you ultra-conservative-bourgeois elites, I will not believe poverty is caused by the poor being lazy. I will not believe that you are better and as such deserve more. I will not believe that if we all pitch in for a better future for everyone, the world will end. I want the workers to be protected from you. None of your lies will ever get to me. We are people, as such I don't believe any of us should be offered a higher stake of the commonwealth of humanity. This world is ours, we have to take care of it, and share it.
No, I still don't believe healthcare for all will ruin the medical system. If doctors start making less money they will not all leave. In fact universal health care will only lead to better professionals, ones who even if they are making less money are not in it for the money.
The thing is, I respect everyone's right to create their own meaning, as long as it doesn't hurt or exploit anyone else. The meaning I've found for this awful universe on this awful planet which we lease is simple, I want peace, love, and Freedom. Not to hard to grasp. I don't feel like I see enough of these things anymore. The world is always fighting each other these days. Nobody talks, nobody listens, its just murder and guns. People have forgotten about peace and its beauty. Stop fighting please. Freedom, I would love to say that I see a lot of freedom, but I don't. I do not see any freedom at all. A boy told me he thought I needed to know about freedom, he was unable to enlighten me. We are not free, and it is a shame. Freedom is so precious, each moment we remain in bondage robs us of a second will never have back. We're going to die, we are going to age, and the longer we go without freedom the more it will feel like our lungs are going without air. Suffocate. Love, the hippies used to believe love could conquer hate and in its victory dethrone all the other evils of this system. They failed, now they're getting stoned in the woods. Love is important, but I don't see much of it anymore. Where did all the love go? I think it left. Love is like the newborn baby, we see its innocence and some how hope that it will remove all of our failures from us. Love is seen as the way to cure us of our inadequacies, free us from the mundane lives we are forced to lead. I don't see this anymore, love is becoming sick. Bloated by ultra-capitalism. It perverts everything it touches. Love becomes a joke, when it can be bought and sold at such low rates. Love, peace, and freedom. Such simple desires, so far away.
The dilemma has in it a question, once we put forward a desire for a better future, how far do we go? I want to see everyone live authentic lives enriched with peace, love, and freedom. I want to see the end of the ultra-police state. I want to see people saying no to greed, to consumerism. I want world peace. I suppose these desires are absurd and unrealistic, but heck I warned you this rant would merely be an existential dilemma of little concern.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
The Descent
Come down from up there. That hill is to steep for me to join you. The slope is caked with slippery mud. I can't climb up there. I don't believe the structure you've built will remain on top of that hill for much longer. I saw how you built it. I watched you collect those materials. I am confident that it will not stand. You forced others to build it under the crack of your whip. You used their blood to seal your windows, their sweat to varnish your floor, and their tears to fill your sink. I'm confident it will all come tumbling down soon enough.
It is one thing to build something imperfect. It is another to lie about it. That building will not even survive a storm. The people you forced to build it, the ones who still breathe are staring up at it now. The hands that assembled are looking at it, the blood lust in their eyes. Do you know the eyes that a slave looks upon his masters possessions? You call it envy, and I laugh. Is envy the desire for equality then? I surely don't believe as much. I think they're just hungry. You did not feed them to well when you forced them to build your house.
Will you try and coerce them to plough your land, and to feed you? Will you whip them as they starve? Slaves can take the whip, but what of the masters? Will they come for you one night? Can you stand the whip? How many cracks will it take for you to understand pain?
I will sit down on the ground and watch. As your slaves rip you apart, I will laugh. They will tear down your house. Piece by piece. It sounds lovely. They will tear up your gardens. Then they will come for you. Still hungry, still abused, visible wounds laid upon their bodies by your corruption. They will tare at your flesh. Consume you. You will be nothing. Your hill, where you built that structure on so much pain will now be gone. Now I will stand up.
I will look at them. Free men. I will smile. We will together build a new structure, far away from your hill. We will share the burden together. Each drop of sweat will be spread among so many it will feel so light. There are no masters here. We are just people. Free people. The whips will be forgotten about, your hill will be laughed at. Humanity will have its kingdom.
It is one thing to build something imperfect. It is another to lie about it. That building will not even survive a storm. The people you forced to build it, the ones who still breathe are staring up at it now. The hands that assembled are looking at it, the blood lust in their eyes. Do you know the eyes that a slave looks upon his masters possessions? You call it envy, and I laugh. Is envy the desire for equality then? I surely don't believe as much. I think they're just hungry. You did not feed them to well when you forced them to build your house.
Will you try and coerce them to plough your land, and to feed you? Will you whip them as they starve? Slaves can take the whip, but what of the masters? Will they come for you one night? Can you stand the whip? How many cracks will it take for you to understand pain?
I will sit down on the ground and watch. As your slaves rip you apart, I will laugh. They will tear down your house. Piece by piece. It sounds lovely. They will tear up your gardens. Then they will come for you. Still hungry, still abused, visible wounds laid upon their bodies by your corruption. They will tare at your flesh. Consume you. You will be nothing. Your hill, where you built that structure on so much pain will now be gone. Now I will stand up.
I will look at them. Free men. I will smile. We will together build a new structure, far away from your hill. We will share the burden together. Each drop of sweat will be spread among so many it will feel so light. There are no masters here. We are just people. Free people. The whips will be forgotten about, your hill will be laughed at. Humanity will have its kingdom.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
The Inferno
Come with me she said, she promised to take me to a world I could hardly believe.
We walked through space and time, and appeared in a starving village, the pain was unbelievable, the bodies in catabolysis slowly breaking down all the fat and muscle in the body, eventually the organ tissues will be broken down by the body as it attempts to preserve itself. We sat down next to a poor child, in death throws, the sight was almost too much for me to bare. I told the guide this was awful what had these people done, she laughed and told me that they had refused to join a band of militants, so the militants burned all the crops and killed the livestock.
We left the village to continue our exploration. We stopped over in a desert, there were men in camouflage killing young children. The green men had powerful guns, and the children had rocks they were throwing at the big men. It was an awful sight. The guide told me this cruelty exists because of greed. The masters of the men in green are obsessed with the gooey decomposition of ancient creatures. The masters would kill anyone just for a few drops of it.
We stopped over in a cafe in some beautiful country. I wondered what the guide could be showing me here. Silent she just pointed at a young boy being followed by two officers of the state, the boy began walking faster, obviously frightened. The officers began to match his speed, so the boy began to run, and one of them dove onto him, they cracked him a few time with their baton. There was blood everywhere, the officer got up, but the boy didn't, his head had been cracked open, either when the officer dropped him to the pavement or from the clubbing of the batons. I asked my guide what this could mean. She told me this is mans inhumanity, they'll kill others because they're different.
Next we were in a factory, the workers were striking, the management and its partners the law enforcement were trying to brake it up. The enforcers first opened up with the water cannon, and the workers still hadn't dispersed, so they gassed the place. The workers panicked and rushed the line trying to get out of the gas but the officers kept blocking them, at one point a shot was fired. Thirty factory workers were killed, left choking on poison gas. I inquired of my guide what had they wanted, she told me that factory owner had cut wages in half so he good vacation in the Caribbean, the workers just wanted their old wages back, so at least they could feed their families.
Next we walked through the streets of a large city, covered with brilliant beautiful buildings. I couldn't imagine what would be so wrong here, it looked as if these people had everything. My guide took me down the street to see the beggars, the addicts, the prostitutes, all cast aside by the city as it grows and tramples others below it. I saw a man with no legs just begging for enough money for a sandwich, the businessmen in designer suits who walked by mumbled he would probably just spend it on boos. I looked at the guide and understood.
Hell is right here, and we are the devils. We are the engineers of worse suffering than even Dante could have imagined. Does that make you feel proud? No, I suppose you just don't care, turn on your television And try to forget the cost of what you have. Try not to picture the child with only one good hand left who made your shoes. Don't think about the people who are dying of starvation while you are gorging at McHate.
We walked through space and time, and appeared in a starving village, the pain was unbelievable, the bodies in catabolysis slowly breaking down all the fat and muscle in the body, eventually the organ tissues will be broken down by the body as it attempts to preserve itself. We sat down next to a poor child, in death throws, the sight was almost too much for me to bare. I told the guide this was awful what had these people done, she laughed and told me that they had refused to join a band of militants, so the militants burned all the crops and killed the livestock.
We left the village to continue our exploration. We stopped over in a desert, there were men in camouflage killing young children. The green men had powerful guns, and the children had rocks they were throwing at the big men. It was an awful sight. The guide told me this cruelty exists because of greed. The masters of the men in green are obsessed with the gooey decomposition of ancient creatures. The masters would kill anyone just for a few drops of it.
We stopped over in a cafe in some beautiful country. I wondered what the guide could be showing me here. Silent she just pointed at a young boy being followed by two officers of the state, the boy began walking faster, obviously frightened. The officers began to match his speed, so the boy began to run, and one of them dove onto him, they cracked him a few time with their baton. There was blood everywhere, the officer got up, but the boy didn't, his head had been cracked open, either when the officer dropped him to the pavement or from the clubbing of the batons. I asked my guide what this could mean. She told me this is mans inhumanity, they'll kill others because they're different.
Next we were in a factory, the workers were striking, the management and its partners the law enforcement were trying to brake it up. The enforcers first opened up with the water cannon, and the workers still hadn't dispersed, so they gassed the place. The workers panicked and rushed the line trying to get out of the gas but the officers kept blocking them, at one point a shot was fired. Thirty factory workers were killed, left choking on poison gas. I inquired of my guide what had they wanted, she told me that factory owner had cut wages in half so he good vacation in the Caribbean, the workers just wanted their old wages back, so at least they could feed their families.
Next we walked through the streets of a large city, covered with brilliant beautiful buildings. I couldn't imagine what would be so wrong here, it looked as if these people had everything. My guide took me down the street to see the beggars, the addicts, the prostitutes, all cast aside by the city as it grows and tramples others below it. I saw a man with no legs just begging for enough money for a sandwich, the businessmen in designer suits who walked by mumbled he would probably just spend it on boos. I looked at the guide and understood.
Hell is right here, and we are the devils. We are the engineers of worse suffering than even Dante could have imagined. Does that make you feel proud? No, I suppose you just don't care, turn on your television And try to forget the cost of what you have. Try not to picture the child with only one good hand left who made your shoes. Don't think about the people who are dying of starvation while you are gorging at McHate.
Vice & Virtue
Its so easy to do good. Its so easy to do bad. A copper president head landed face up and told me to choose vice. Life is that pointless, that stupid, that meaningless. What is the point then, when you don't really concretely believe in anything, do you pursue vice endlessly on some path of self-destruction? Do you endlessly preform good, hoping in some strange mytho-physical sense of the world you can find a redemption that will free you from the strains of this awful world.
It all makes me a little sick. I suppose existence makes me a little sick. I don't believe there is much inherent meaning to this world. Only we can give any value to it, but since we ourselves are often very flawed creatures, what good is this value? A flawed creature scratching at perfection is silly, pathetic maybe even sad. Flawed perception of perfection is the view of a masterpiece a million miles away. We are reckless, and diseased ridden. Humanity in a sense is the worst scourge this beautiful planet has ever experienced.
We persist, we continue to misuse, mismanage, destroy, kill, and wage our silly wars. Life is a sad absurd play. So which is it? Will vice or virtue save us? The problem is, that both vice and virtue are subjective, we each have an imperfect view of them. Life then is a serious of imperfect mismanagement.
My views on virtue and vice have always been far to simple. I see the chance of either and I debate which one I'll enjoy more. I can enjoy virtue as much as vice, but they never mean anything. Sometimes I feel indefatigable in my conquests of these, and others I feel apathetic, uninterested, and unable to continue this sad polemic.
I suppose a philosophy with no center must always be trying to establish one. I'm to much of the cynic to build a real center. I would build a house on the edge of a cliff just to see it fall. I would save a cat from a tree. I am human. Behold. My center will always be found in absurd places. My beliefs will never quite make sense, nor will I. I was born imperfect, and so I will die. I have poor eyesight so I never bothered too much gazing off at perfection. It is to far off in the distance. The reality is that we can see imperfection, we can behold each other. A philosophy that rejects perfection may grow into a universal humanism.
Recognizing we are all equally capable of the blunders of life is the first step. Every man was created imperfect, equal in the aspect. We have so many flaws so many vices. It is time to find beauty in every flaw. The hungry are in the same boat as us, and we should help them out. It doesn't take much to imagine ourselves after a few blunders to be in the same place. Feed the hungry, because one day you might be hungry. If you see some one hurt, help them, we know how fragile our frail human bodies are.
I think this is the big problem with the police state. It is too inhuman, it pretends that there is some universal standard of right and wrong that if crossed gives it the right to send its gangs of blue boys to beat and rape you until you promise never to do it again. The thing is we are all capable of making mistakes. Crime is not sin, it is human. We are all guilty. The truth is that we shouldn't worry too much about it. If we looked out for each other more, the world wouldn't be such a painful awful place. I must admit every time I drive past a little gang enforcement garrison, or see the lights pulling some poor kid over on the street I want to stop it. I want to pull behind them, and tell them to stop it. Leave this person alone. Go away. We don't need more gangs on the street! Fuck the Police. I would like to burn all the prisons down, and let the torture victims of the police state take back the lives it has robbed them of. They're not the monsters television makes them out to be, prisoners are people just like us, and if we make the wrong mistakes the gang that controls the street might lock us up in there. I advocate the immediate dismantlement of the prison establishment and the final destruction of the ultra-police state of America! Free the people!
It all makes me a little sick. I suppose existence makes me a little sick. I don't believe there is much inherent meaning to this world. Only we can give any value to it, but since we ourselves are often very flawed creatures, what good is this value? A flawed creature scratching at perfection is silly, pathetic maybe even sad. Flawed perception of perfection is the view of a masterpiece a million miles away. We are reckless, and diseased ridden. Humanity in a sense is the worst scourge this beautiful planet has ever experienced.
We persist, we continue to misuse, mismanage, destroy, kill, and wage our silly wars. Life is a sad absurd play. So which is it? Will vice or virtue save us? The problem is, that both vice and virtue are subjective, we each have an imperfect view of them. Life then is a serious of imperfect mismanagement.
My views on virtue and vice have always been far to simple. I see the chance of either and I debate which one I'll enjoy more. I can enjoy virtue as much as vice, but they never mean anything. Sometimes I feel indefatigable in my conquests of these, and others I feel apathetic, uninterested, and unable to continue this sad polemic.
I suppose a philosophy with no center must always be trying to establish one. I'm to much of the cynic to build a real center. I would build a house on the edge of a cliff just to see it fall. I would save a cat from a tree. I am human. Behold. My center will always be found in absurd places. My beliefs will never quite make sense, nor will I. I was born imperfect, and so I will die. I have poor eyesight so I never bothered too much gazing off at perfection. It is to far off in the distance. The reality is that we can see imperfection, we can behold each other. A philosophy that rejects perfection may grow into a universal humanism.
Recognizing we are all equally capable of the blunders of life is the first step. Every man was created imperfect, equal in the aspect. We have so many flaws so many vices. It is time to find beauty in every flaw. The hungry are in the same boat as us, and we should help them out. It doesn't take much to imagine ourselves after a few blunders to be in the same place. Feed the hungry, because one day you might be hungry. If you see some one hurt, help them, we know how fragile our frail human bodies are.
I think this is the big problem with the police state. It is too inhuman, it pretends that there is some universal standard of right and wrong that if crossed gives it the right to send its gangs of blue boys to beat and rape you until you promise never to do it again. The thing is we are all capable of making mistakes. Crime is not sin, it is human. We are all guilty. The truth is that we shouldn't worry too much about it. If we looked out for each other more, the world wouldn't be such a painful awful place. I must admit every time I drive past a little gang enforcement garrison, or see the lights pulling some poor kid over on the street I want to stop it. I want to pull behind them, and tell them to stop it. Leave this person alone. Go away. We don't need more gangs on the street! Fuck the Police. I would like to burn all the prisons down, and let the torture victims of the police state take back the lives it has robbed them of. They're not the monsters television makes them out to be, prisoners are people just like us, and if we make the wrong mistakes the gang that controls the street might lock us up in there. I advocate the immediate dismantlement of the prison establishment and the final destruction of the ultra-police state of America! Free the people!
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Capitalism Feels Like Asphyxiation to Me
I have an awful taste in my mouth, and I'm not sure what will make it go way. It tastes of decay. It taste of pain and suffering. I saw a man hobbling on one leg, poor, and starving on the street. Maybe he lost his leg in some war. Maybe the drugs the pharmaceutical companies pumped his mother with made him come out that way. The world is sick. People are sick. Its dying, and so are they. We are all dying, prematurely at that. A new pandemic has been discovered.
Its called capitalism. The death rate of all victims infected is one hundred percent. It is a parasite. Easily transferred from victim to victim. It robs the victim of all of its strength until the victim eventually collapses, exhausted, enfeebled, and defeated.
The deadlier strains of this violence kill the most among the poor and working class. They suffer acutely from all of its symptoms. Cures are usually withheld because the disease is very strong. In fact the spreaders of the disease plan to keep it around for as long as possible.
Symptoms include but are not limited to; depression, anxiety, consumerism, jingoism, religiosity, obsession with stuff, over eating, under exercising, patriotism, and in some rare cases even suicide.
What a terrible plague this is, but the doctors at Verisimilitude would like to let you know, we have developed an experimental cure.
Its called dissent, That is right folks. It is guaranteed to buy you years more of quality life. Rebel, and dissent. Don't buy the crap they're selling, you. Because it will kill you. Capitalism can be eradicated in our time. Let us quarantine it. Slowly it will die out. Don't let your children suffer for your mistakes. Emancipate the proletariat.
Its called capitalism. The death rate of all victims infected is one hundred percent. It is a parasite. Easily transferred from victim to victim. It robs the victim of all of its strength until the victim eventually collapses, exhausted, enfeebled, and defeated.
The deadlier strains of this violence kill the most among the poor and working class. They suffer acutely from all of its symptoms. Cures are usually withheld because the disease is very strong. In fact the spreaders of the disease plan to keep it around for as long as possible.
Symptoms include but are not limited to; depression, anxiety, consumerism, jingoism, religiosity, obsession with stuff, over eating, under exercising, patriotism, and in some rare cases even suicide.
What a terrible plague this is, but the doctors at Verisimilitude would like to let you know, we have developed an experimental cure.
Its called dissent, That is right folks. It is guaranteed to buy you years more of quality life. Rebel, and dissent. Don't buy the crap they're selling, you. Because it will kill you. Capitalism can be eradicated in our time. Let us quarantine it. Slowly it will die out. Don't let your children suffer for your mistakes. Emancipate the proletariat.
A Donation
What does it really mean to give? Isn't a gift always aimed at something? What do you desire when you give a pretty girl a flower? Sex. What do you want when you buy your boss a new coffee mug? A promotion. When you buy your child a toy? You get to let him go off and play and give you some peace and quiet. Every gift is motivated by a degree of self interest. The paint coat sometimes is not as thick as others. Giving a gift sets up a bond, a human relationship based to some degree on a desire for reciprocity. The pretty girl who gets the flower may be expected to go out again with the boy. Although the symbolism of the flower is very interesting in and of itself. In our times though it is a little ironic if you know what I mean. So, why do we need to establish bonds, why give gifts, and why develop human relationships?
In so much as a government is concerned, the individual engaging in activities that will provide himself with group power is dangerous. Capitalism does not really appreciate the gift. In fact it has done its best to devalue it. Mass produce crap, create mock gifts, all with the sinister purpose of preventing organization. If people organize than great things can happen. One man asking for justice can not do much, but a million can change the world. If the workers give gifts to each other and develop strong integrated relationships among each other the management gets worried. They hold a series of anti-union meetings and threaten the workers with termination. They call workers being to friendly fraternization. They frown upon this action. Although the term actually means to treat some as your brother. I think we are all brothers,and we should all treat each other as such. This is a problem for the exploiting class. Fraternization is frowned upon in the work place because the management is taught to feel no compassion for the workers. It is taught that exploiting them is alright, and a philosophy of universal humanity is unbeneficial to a system of outrageous exploitation.
Capitalism is hate, fraternity is love. In my life I have seen a lot of people who could be happy with a little love in their life. I may have been one of them. I often look back at myself from a far away place. I wonder if he knew who I would be today. Would this comfort him? I'm proud of who I am. I am a voice of skepticism and dissent. Me and my brothers are proud to be a community of gad flies. We goad the fascists in the majority. We push them, we ask them why, and they do not like this. We are not going away though. A strong feeling of self-empowerment. Did I develop a sense of self-actualization from a sense of revolutionary ideology? Am I merely me as a result of being placed radically juxtaposed to them for so long? One author who described a city in America once said that it was the strangest sort of place, the poor on one side of the road, and the rich on the other, the projects overlooking mansions. He admitted he had always been on the other side, the project side, and that he could never really understand the rich. I've always been on that side too. Arguments against equality have always fallen deafly on my ears. I was born poor. I don't know wealth. I have little taste for extravagance. Things will never satisfy me. I'm a bad capitalist. People are what I am interested in. I want the homeless to have a place to stay, and the hungry to have something to eat. A new car, and a big house are not my priorities. Humanity is my forte.
In so much as a government is concerned, the individual engaging in activities that will provide himself with group power is dangerous. Capitalism does not really appreciate the gift. In fact it has done its best to devalue it. Mass produce crap, create mock gifts, all with the sinister purpose of preventing organization. If people organize than great things can happen. One man asking for justice can not do much, but a million can change the world. If the workers give gifts to each other and develop strong integrated relationships among each other the management gets worried. They hold a series of anti-union meetings and threaten the workers with termination. They call workers being to friendly fraternization. They frown upon this action. Although the term actually means to treat some as your brother. I think we are all brothers,and we should all treat each other as such. This is a problem for the exploiting class. Fraternization is frowned upon in the work place because the management is taught to feel no compassion for the workers. It is taught that exploiting them is alright, and a philosophy of universal humanity is unbeneficial to a system of outrageous exploitation.
Capitalism is hate, fraternity is love. In my life I have seen a lot of people who could be happy with a little love in their life. I may have been one of them. I often look back at myself from a far away place. I wonder if he knew who I would be today. Would this comfort him? I'm proud of who I am. I am a voice of skepticism and dissent. Me and my brothers are proud to be a community of gad flies. We goad the fascists in the majority. We push them, we ask them why, and they do not like this. We are not going away though. A strong feeling of self-empowerment. Did I develop a sense of self-actualization from a sense of revolutionary ideology? Am I merely me as a result of being placed radically juxtaposed to them for so long? One author who described a city in America once said that it was the strangest sort of place, the poor on one side of the road, and the rich on the other, the projects overlooking mansions. He admitted he had always been on the other side, the project side, and that he could never really understand the rich. I've always been on that side too. Arguments against equality have always fallen deafly on my ears. I was born poor. I don't know wealth. I have little taste for extravagance. Things will never satisfy me. I'm a bad capitalist. People are what I am interested in. I want the homeless to have a place to stay, and the hungry to have something to eat. A new car, and a big house are not my priorities. Humanity is my forte.
Hiver
There is something beautiful in winter.
All the fragile delicate beauties of nature laid bare.
Exposed, but covered with snow.
We bundle up with gloves, and scarves.
Covering ourselves while the world sheds its protection.
The emptiness, and the desolation.
Warm my heart, and I slowly feel all the frustrations slip away.
Far away, a moments reprieve,
and I'm back, back to my heart, back to goals, my brain, and our future.
All the fragile delicate beauties of nature laid bare.
Exposed, but covered with snow.
We bundle up with gloves, and scarves.
Covering ourselves while the world sheds its protection.
The emptiness, and the desolation.
Warm my heart, and I slowly feel all the frustrations slip away.
Far away, a moments reprieve,
and I'm back, back to my heart, back to goals, my brain, and our future.
In America
In America
First they will come for the immigrants.
And you'll do nothing, because you are not an immigrant.
Next they'll come for the homeless.
And you'll do nothing because you are not homeless.
Then they'll come for the poor.
And you'll do nothing because there is something better on television.
Soon they'll come for the handicapped.
You'll be to busy eating at Mc Hate's burger establishment.
Finally they'll come for you.
And there will be no one left to help you, and no escapist diversions left to distract you.
First they will come for the immigrants.
And you'll do nothing, because you are not an immigrant.
Next they'll come for the homeless.
And you'll do nothing because you are not homeless.
Then they'll come for the poor.
And you'll do nothing because there is something better on television.
Soon they'll come for the handicapped.
You'll be to busy eating at Mc Hate's burger establishment.
Finally they'll come for you.
And there will be no one left to help you, and no escapist diversions left to distract you.
Police State
Today I would like to interview an imperialist pig. Although we know none of them would probably sit down and talk to me. They're very scared of the truth. I watched a heartless dog for the country arrest a man last night. It took three of them for one small guy. The reason the initial cop called for back up was to restrain the man's wife and child if they acted out. The child was crying seeing his daddy being taken away by this Nazi in blue. The cop was full of jockish bravado. He looked like he played football in high school. I would of liked to ask him what it was like caging the poor. I wanted to know his gang of thieves and liars plans for the future.
I think I have an idea what this gang of vile thugs has planned for the future. So, the police already arrest the poor the most. Next, the largest group arrested are those classified as others. These others are jailed because of the color of their skin, the language they speak, or the country of origin. I believe the pigs have a game down at the station, Nazi one looks to his buddy and says “I bet I can arrest more brown people than you.” The other thug laughs and tells him he'll get a gay and beat him up. The fascists laugh. Another favorite down at the station is arresting the handicap. The police love fucking with them. Are we sure the Third Reich really fell? Have you listened to the news lately? The Gestapo has been running adds, they say “we'll be out in force.” So these sycophants have been increasing their numbers. They've been hunting. Rabid dogs! If I didn't deplore animal cruelty so much, I would have suggest we put them all down.
The police are on the streets to much for a democracy. A police state is irreconcilable with a democracy. They're stepping up they said. More immigrants in jail, more poor, more blacks, more gays. They've made it clear. The bourgeois who pay these twisted beasts have decided they don't like these types. Well I've decided I don't like the bourgeois and its gangs of extra-legal para military enforcers. That is right, I know you guessed it. The police are not a democratic institution they are the para-military wing of the fascist bourgeois apparatus.
Are you familiar with the famous poem attributed to Martin Niemöller? “In Germany, First they came for the communists and I did not speak up because I was not a communist then they came for the Jews and I did no speak up because I was not a Jew.....” I have one for America:
In America
First they will come for the immigrants.
And you'll do nothing, because you are not an immigrant.
Next they'll come for the homeless.
And you'll do nothing because you are not homeless.
Then they'll come for the poor.
And you'll do nothing because there is something better on television.
Soon they'll come for the handicapped.
You'll be to busy eating at Mc Hate's burger establishment.
Finally they'll come for you.
And there will be no one left to help you, and no escapist diversions left to distract you.
Its a bright future we have to look forward to. The police are a gang on the street with the best weapons and technology at their disposal. We are in trouble. They have the agenda of the rich in mind. Protect property, since we have none that doesn't help us. The police like most gangs are also out to make money. They profit from absurd things, such as tickets. The government fines you for dissent against is absurd bureaucratic legal system. I think the “legal system” is only another tool used by the fascists occupying America to control us.
But I have an idea. I have a way we can escape this fascist hell. Let us open up the prisons. Let us burn down the super markets. Flip over cop cars. If they are a brutal gang of thugs they may only understand one language. That I gang violence. The police is largest gang in America. It is powerful and protected by institutionalized legal loop holes. It must be stopped. I wouldn't tolerate any gang to be controlling me especially not this one. In order stop them we have to stop pretending its alright.
It is not alright. Stop popping pills. Stop drinking away all your energy. The media is lying to you, and your believing it. Shut off your television. Don't buy what they tell you. Look at the shanty towns in America. Is this the 1930s all over again? A new great depression. This time the government has a secret agenda. It is the profit of the rich and the proliferation of American Corporate Fascism. We are the third estate. Privilege is out of control and we are the victims and not the benefactors. Sieyès said “Qu'est-ce que le tiers état?” he goes on to say “What is the third estate want to be? Something.” That is all we want, to be something, to be members of a community that doesn't just look out for the rich, but looks out for us all. Look out for each other. Stop the para military fascists from torturing the poor. Help the homeless. Feed the hungry. Be tolerant and compassionate. Evict the fascist occupiers.
I think I have an idea what this gang of vile thugs has planned for the future. So, the police already arrest the poor the most. Next, the largest group arrested are those classified as others. These others are jailed because of the color of their skin, the language they speak, or the country of origin. I believe the pigs have a game down at the station, Nazi one looks to his buddy and says “I bet I can arrest more brown people than you.” The other thug laughs and tells him he'll get a gay and beat him up. The fascists laugh. Another favorite down at the station is arresting the handicap. The police love fucking with them. Are we sure the Third Reich really fell? Have you listened to the news lately? The Gestapo has been running adds, they say “we'll be out in force.” So these sycophants have been increasing their numbers. They've been hunting. Rabid dogs! If I didn't deplore animal cruelty so much, I would have suggest we put them all down.
The police are on the streets to much for a democracy. A police state is irreconcilable with a democracy. They're stepping up they said. More immigrants in jail, more poor, more blacks, more gays. They've made it clear. The bourgeois who pay these twisted beasts have decided they don't like these types. Well I've decided I don't like the bourgeois and its gangs of extra-legal para military enforcers. That is right, I know you guessed it. The police are not a democratic institution they are the para-military wing of the fascist bourgeois apparatus.
Are you familiar with the famous poem attributed to Martin Niemöller? “In Germany, First they came for the communists and I did not speak up because I was not a communist then they came for the Jews and I did no speak up because I was not a Jew.....” I have one for America:
In America
First they will come for the immigrants.
And you'll do nothing, because you are not an immigrant.
Next they'll come for the homeless.
And you'll do nothing because you are not homeless.
Then they'll come for the poor.
And you'll do nothing because there is something better on television.
Soon they'll come for the handicapped.
You'll be to busy eating at Mc Hate's burger establishment.
Finally they'll come for you.
And there will be no one left to help you, and no escapist diversions left to distract you.
Its a bright future we have to look forward to. The police are a gang on the street with the best weapons and technology at their disposal. We are in trouble. They have the agenda of the rich in mind. Protect property, since we have none that doesn't help us. The police like most gangs are also out to make money. They profit from absurd things, such as tickets. The government fines you for dissent against is absurd bureaucratic legal system. I think the “legal system” is only another tool used by the fascists occupying America to control us.
But I have an idea. I have a way we can escape this fascist hell. Let us open up the prisons. Let us burn down the super markets. Flip over cop cars. If they are a brutal gang of thugs they may only understand one language. That I gang violence. The police is largest gang in America. It is powerful and protected by institutionalized legal loop holes. It must be stopped. I wouldn't tolerate any gang to be controlling me especially not this one. In order stop them we have to stop pretending its alright.
It is not alright. Stop popping pills. Stop drinking away all your energy. The media is lying to you, and your believing it. Shut off your television. Don't buy what they tell you. Look at the shanty towns in America. Is this the 1930s all over again? A new great depression. This time the government has a secret agenda. It is the profit of the rich and the proliferation of American Corporate Fascism. We are the third estate. Privilege is out of control and we are the victims and not the benefactors. Sieyès said “Qu'est-ce que le tiers état?” he goes on to say “What is the third estate want to be? Something.” That is all we want, to be something, to be members of a community that doesn't just look out for the rich, but looks out for us all. Look out for each other. Stop the para military fascists from torturing the poor. Help the homeless. Feed the hungry. Be tolerant and compassionate. Evict the fascist occupiers.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Visible Evidence
The evidence is not invisible. Ask anyone. There are problems in America today. It is held as true that knowledge is a virtue. Intelligence is valued. And wisdom is admired. But as a nation we’ve peaked, and from here it seems we are becoming more grotesquely unintelligent every year.
There was a young man in my English 102 class, the prerequisite for which was English 101. This man couldn’t read. He wasn’t dyslexic (I know because I asked him, and he’d been tested), he wasn’t mentally handicapped, he told me in his thick southern accent that he just “never thought it was important”. This was English 102 at a Metropolitan Community College! That means he PASSED English 101 without being able to read.
Please allow me to clarify, my problem is not with the gentleman who can’t read. Perhaps there was some hidden mental handicap manifesting itself through this inability. Or maybe he developed an aversion to reading for some other deep rooted psychological reason. My anger is aimed at the educational system. The dumbing down of the curriculum, and the ease of passing lend themselves only to line the pockets of the elite with cash, and work against furthering the knowledge of next generation’s proletariats.
It’s because of capitalism that America cannot compete intellectually with most other 1st world countries. Ask anyone from conservative to liberal and they will tell you that school is being dumbed down. But they will not be able to tell you why, or at least they don’t want to admit it.
It is because the schools are being run as a profitable business. I’m speaking mostly of colleges and universities. If a student pays $1,200 for a semester and he or she fails all her classes because they were taught correctly and at speed then he/she is liable to drop out and not return for the following semester, costing the college a potential $1,200 per student. So they cater to the bottom line, lower the standards and make classes easy so the dumb kids can feel smart and continue spending money for further affirmation of their wannabe intelligence.
I personally can attest to this because there were several classes I took in college that I simply did not attend. One in particular, I showed up for every test day and two or three of the lectures in between. I skipped the rest. I should have been dropped because I missed more than 33% of the semester, but I wasn’t. And the tests we’re mostly essay answer tests so there was little right/wrong value to them. I managed a 96% in that class. It’s pathetic.
I demand real education from real educators who care to see me achieve success. Who want me to earn a good grade as a result of their teaching not as a result of the easy curriculum. I want to see education and institutions designed to educate not these buildings they call schools, that are designed to make naïve kids feel smart for bringing home a “good grade”, when any freshmen from a decent high school could manage the same thing. What this leads to is a people who have Associate’s Degrees, and a high school education. And I cannot stand for this. I cannot condone the practice of robbing people of knowledge just to make a buck. You are stunting the growth of America and you’re shooting yourself in the foot! You’re capitalist regime will collapse onto itself, because the only people smart enough to perpetuate it are going to be wise to its inherent corruption! And on the day it fails I will point and laugh, and say with a smirk, “I told you so.”
There was a young man in my English 102 class, the prerequisite for which was English 101. This man couldn’t read. He wasn’t dyslexic (I know because I asked him, and he’d been tested), he wasn’t mentally handicapped, he told me in his thick southern accent that he just “never thought it was important”. This was English 102 at a Metropolitan Community College! That means he PASSED English 101 without being able to read.
Please allow me to clarify, my problem is not with the gentleman who can’t read. Perhaps there was some hidden mental handicap manifesting itself through this inability. Or maybe he developed an aversion to reading for some other deep rooted psychological reason. My anger is aimed at the educational system. The dumbing down of the curriculum, and the ease of passing lend themselves only to line the pockets of the elite with cash, and work against furthering the knowledge of next generation’s proletariats.
It’s because of capitalism that America cannot compete intellectually with most other 1st world countries. Ask anyone from conservative to liberal and they will tell you that school is being dumbed down. But they will not be able to tell you why, or at least they don’t want to admit it.
It is because the schools are being run as a profitable business. I’m speaking mostly of colleges and universities. If a student pays $1,200 for a semester and he or she fails all her classes because they were taught correctly and at speed then he/she is liable to drop out and not return for the following semester, costing the college a potential $1,200 per student. So they cater to the bottom line, lower the standards and make classes easy so the dumb kids can feel smart and continue spending money for further affirmation of their wannabe intelligence.
I personally can attest to this because there were several classes I took in college that I simply did not attend. One in particular, I showed up for every test day and two or three of the lectures in between. I skipped the rest. I should have been dropped because I missed more than 33% of the semester, but I wasn’t. And the tests we’re mostly essay answer tests so there was little right/wrong value to them. I managed a 96% in that class. It’s pathetic.
I demand real education from real educators who care to see me achieve success. Who want me to earn a good grade as a result of their teaching not as a result of the easy curriculum. I want to see education and institutions designed to educate not these buildings they call schools, that are designed to make naïve kids feel smart for bringing home a “good grade”, when any freshmen from a decent high school could manage the same thing. What this leads to is a people who have Associate’s Degrees, and a high school education. And I cannot stand for this. I cannot condone the practice of robbing people of knowledge just to make a buck. You are stunting the growth of America and you’re shooting yourself in the foot! You’re capitalist regime will collapse onto itself, because the only people smart enough to perpetuate it are going to be wise to its inherent corruption! And on the day it fails I will point and laugh, and say with a smirk, “I told you so.”
Democracy (In recognition of good poetry)
the problem of course, isn't the Democratic System,
it's the
living parts which make up the Democratic System.
the next person you pass on the street,
multiply
him or
her by
3 or 4 or 30 or 40 million
and you will know
immediately
why things remain non-functional
for most of
us.
I wish I had a cure for the chess pices
we call humanity...
we've undergone any number of political cures
and we all remain
foolish enough to hope
that the one on the way
NOW
will cure almost
everything.
fellow citizens,
the problem never was the Democratic
System, the problem is
you.
-Charles Bukowski
it's the
living parts which make up the Democratic System.
the next person you pass on the street,
multiply
him or
her by
3 or 4 or 30 or 40 million
and you will know
immediately
why things remain non-functional
for most of
us.
I wish I had a cure for the chess pices
we call humanity...
we've undergone any number of political cures
and we all remain
foolish enough to hope
that the one on the way
NOW
will cure almost
everything.
fellow citizens,
the problem never was the Democratic
System, the problem is
you.
-Charles Bukowski
Friday, July 3, 2009
The Exploited
We can hardly blame the bourgeois tough stance against the people. From their point of view they have everthing to lose. The poor on the other hand, already have nothing, so they have nothing to lose. This is why the state invented police; it is why it invented its own Gestapo, and it is why it has a standing army. The Bourgeois wanted a bulwark against the people. It is a little disgusting to think that the government and its institutions are made to oppress the people, but here and America they are. You are all granted to the right to live, unless the government decides it needs more territory so it sends you to die in some war, or it decides you disagree with it a little to much so it kills you for the glory of the state. Hey dirty feds, I disagree. America is the land where the rich can pursue any pleasure in their lives without restraint, even murder. The catch is that if they kill they have to pay the government, donate some new chairs to city hall, or publicly apologize. If a poor person kills, even if it is to feed their family, in the case of a botched robbery, they may even face death.
Do you know what kinds of countries around the world still rely on the death penalty? It is archaic. Who decides high up that human life is worth so little. It’s the most precious thing we have. For the poor, it is all we have. The rich have more to lose than their lives, all the petit bourgeois trappings of excess and the products of exploitation of the third world. The difference is that the elites will never be free; freedom can not come from excess. Freedom comes from within. The more you have, and the more you exploit, the less freedom you have. Every house you buy, car you drive, outfit you own is one more death row to your own freedom.
Take note, having nothing is being truly free. It is a state of innocence. The poor are beautiful for that reason. You can look into the eyes of the impoverished, and understand how hard it is for them, but you know when the more make love, they are enjoying it much more than the rich. And when they celebrate it is all the more fun. The poor appreciate every reprieve. The rich appreciate nil. The solution, kill the rich. Give the poor more reprieves.
So if I’m against state killing how can I suggest we lop off the heads of the ultra-rich and bourgeois tyrants oppressing our country? Well I think that they have signed the contract on their own heads. The writ was signed in the blood of all the proletariats sent to die in their bog awful wars. Each day they profit, while the families of the poor lose sons, fathers, and daughters for imperial conquest. War is not glorious. Freedom is glorious. Only when we know how precious it is can we appreciate it. America, how far you have fallen since 1776.
This land was looked upon by the world with admiration as it was the first to break away from the old world’s imperialism. America was thought to be the new revolutionary model, but it lied. America wasn’t a slave breaking its chains; America was a son disobeying his father. And the problem with rich assholes is that they grow up to be assholes like their fathers.
America grew into the most anti-revolutionary conservative reactionary country to be seen since the fall of Tsarist Russia. I bet that puts a good feeling in your stomach. You are about as free as the people were in Tsarist Russia. Do something about it! Rob a bank. Burn down city hall! Stop a police officer from hurting more people! Ask the government to resign! Tell them the people can take it from here! Feed the hungry! Cloth the poor! End tyranny!
Emancipate the proletariats, and obliterate the bourgeois!
Do you know what kinds of countries around the world still rely on the death penalty? It is archaic. Who decides high up that human life is worth so little. It’s the most precious thing we have. For the poor, it is all we have. The rich have more to lose than their lives, all the petit bourgeois trappings of excess and the products of exploitation of the third world. The difference is that the elites will never be free; freedom can not come from excess. Freedom comes from within. The more you have, and the more you exploit, the less freedom you have. Every house you buy, car you drive, outfit you own is one more death row to your own freedom.
Take note, having nothing is being truly free. It is a state of innocence. The poor are beautiful for that reason. You can look into the eyes of the impoverished, and understand how hard it is for them, but you know when the more make love, they are enjoying it much more than the rich. And when they celebrate it is all the more fun. The poor appreciate every reprieve. The rich appreciate nil. The solution, kill the rich. Give the poor more reprieves.
So if I’m against state killing how can I suggest we lop off the heads of the ultra-rich and bourgeois tyrants oppressing our country? Well I think that they have signed the contract on their own heads. The writ was signed in the blood of all the proletariats sent to die in their bog awful wars. Each day they profit, while the families of the poor lose sons, fathers, and daughters for imperial conquest. War is not glorious. Freedom is glorious. Only when we know how precious it is can we appreciate it. America, how far you have fallen since 1776.
This land was looked upon by the world with admiration as it was the first to break away from the old world’s imperialism. America was thought to be the new revolutionary model, but it lied. America wasn’t a slave breaking its chains; America was a son disobeying his father. And the problem with rich assholes is that they grow up to be assholes like their fathers.
America grew into the most anti-revolutionary conservative reactionary country to be seen since the fall of Tsarist Russia. I bet that puts a good feeling in your stomach. You are about as free as the people were in Tsarist Russia. Do something about it! Rob a bank. Burn down city hall! Stop a police officer from hurting more people! Ask the government to resign! Tell them the people can take it from here! Feed the hungry! Cloth the poor! End tyranny!
Emancipate the proletariats, and obliterate the bourgeois!
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Meaning
Meaning.
You can’t find meaning. It doesn’t exist.
It’s not something you search for but rather something you create.
You can give meaning to a fart. What’s meaning really worth then?
Why is meaning important? It’s not. Just live. Everything happens.
Not for a reason, but for the sake of happening.
Good thing too because even a miserable existence occupies our lives and adds something to it.
Stop trying to find meaning, and just be happy existing.
Living with the prospect of death is superior to existing in oblivion.
Touch a tree. It’s there for you to touch.
Lick a girl, she’ll enjoy it.
Put your fist through a brick wall and relish the pain.
If you hurt, that means it’s not too late.
It’s never too late.
Even on your deathbed, count the ceiling tiles.
Curse your nurse.
Pick your nose, and flick the booger at the window.
We have a place with things in it.
We have a place where things happen.
Fuck meaning. Enjoy existence.
You can’t find meaning. It doesn’t exist.
It’s not something you search for but rather something you create.
You can give meaning to a fart. What’s meaning really worth then?
Why is meaning important? It’s not. Just live. Everything happens.
Not for a reason, but for the sake of happening.
Good thing too because even a miserable existence occupies our lives and adds something to it.
Stop trying to find meaning, and just be happy existing.
Living with the prospect of death is superior to existing in oblivion.
Touch a tree. It’s there for you to touch.
Lick a girl, she’ll enjoy it.
Put your fist through a brick wall and relish the pain.
If you hurt, that means it’s not too late.
It’s never too late.
Even on your deathbed, count the ceiling tiles.
Curse your nurse.
Pick your nose, and flick the booger at the window.
We have a place with things in it.
We have a place where things happen.
Fuck meaning. Enjoy existence.
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