Saturday, August 30, 2014

The Four Horseman Of The Apocalypse - Be Careful About Who's Riding What ·

Conquest, War, Famine and Death - I’ve had neighbors more fearsome; especially those who had underestimated death and its exigent reality - breath. However, pound for pound I’m going with HH the Dalai Lama’s Big Four picks for riders of the Apocalypse - Anger, Hatred, Ignorance and Greed. I’m siding with His Holiness over Christian dogma for practical reasons; the big four of the Christian Apocalypse are all employees of the Ruling Class, whereas Anger, Hatred, Ignorance and Greed are all accessible to the human heart - our control of which remains the only real freedom left to our species; besides I work better with things I can get my hands on. I'm weary from the predictable outcome of Conquest, War, Famine and Death which WorldEconomy Inc continues to flog as the last word in Apocalypses - still without much result; it just feels too much like some seedy Wall Street shell game. All the while we've been betting on Conquest, War, Famine and Death as the gospel apocalyptic scenario, we’ve only lost ground in the existential struggle toward the light - of course that could all change once WorldEconomy Inc uploads the latest version via their lackeys on Capitol Hill.  Meanwhile smart money is on HH the Dalai Lama’s picks which are surging; industries sprouting daily to rid the world of Anger, Hatred Ignorance and Greed and just in the nick of time, for Jesus Christ may have been the last human being free of such defects; then again, I may be thinking of the Prophet Muhammad - I get the two of them confused along with Buddha and Lao Tzu.

In any case, what worthier ambition is there than enlightenment as Leonard Cohen points out . .

We were locked in this kitchen
I took to religion
And I wondered how long she would stay
I needed so much to have nothing to touch
I've always been greedy that way

. . I am Greedy, though not for the filthy lucre; untold wealth has achieved nothing close to what might have happened had that same obscene amount of money now sitting in offshore computer servers been thrown into the civil mechanism. Am I Ignorant? I am if I believe what I say or write could persuade you about greed or result in change within your heart. Everybody knows one can only change oneself, right? My personal weakness - Hate; I confess to hating cruelty, oppression, dishonesty, cowardice, etc, I hate any scourge to the human soul and will battle the best way I know how as sensei Bruce Lee advocated - “burrow into the heart of your opponent” and use its own weakness to destroy itself. So in this the second paragraph of a plan to overthrow great weaknesses in our species or at best pick some new winners, I find myself full with greed, ignorance and hatred - 3 major impediments for growth of my own heart. If you place stock in the wisdom of HH the Dalai Lama, as I do, you may also find his objectives nearly impossible to master .  . enough to piss off any g_d fearing human .  .

.  .  . oh fuck I possess all four defects in under three paragraphs. Too often I have been betrayed by my own Anger which I understand accomplishes little but to create greater space for itself. So if I spend time with something which apparently exists solely for the sake of its own existence - like anger, money, or the ubiquitous internet is that also greedy. The sad truth is we live immersed in a technology which can play and replay any given problem like the “sky is falling” repeatedly - chopping it up into unrecognizable portions to be parsed again and again through so many channels and platforms it becomes unrecognizable except as a dull hum demanding you be afraid of the falling sky or afraid of something . . then as though for emphasis, reissued or rehabilitated like a bad penny or radioactive politician. Consider the pustulating planetary tragedy of Fukushima - only the tip of an iceberg, or what used to be called icebergs but now the melted seawater of a radioactive maw of encroaching shoreline inexorably swallowing great swaths of historical human habitation. The ruling class zealots won’t tell you about Fukushima, but will say that the shoreline is shrinking; WorldEconomy Inc will then call for higher rent due to austerity and charge you more for less right through to the end. That and/or we the human race will again descend back into the ocean having desecrated the once holy realm of the "Great Spirit" on our way to fully appreciating the physics of disrespect and/or truly rueing our collective lack of spine.

To conclude a 5 Paragraph essay in three may be a useful skill when horsemen of any stripe are bearing down. I'm a geezer and am winded and wheezing, but if the spoon-fed inertia of social media is not enough to alert you that the time is nigh for dismounting from the impending apocalypse, whatever its form - try this fact; no war has ever stopped any war - ever. It is for this reason my target will always be something "other" than you; I will battle Anger, Hatred, Ignorance and Greed or Conquest, War, Famine and Death; it really doesn’t matter which exacta one picks, for however efficient I become in my argument; persuasive with my language or lethal with my drone - until I am able to vanquish the four horseman of my own heart, I’ll be neither conquerer nor conquered - just another serving of Soylent Green for those who can afford what WorldEconomy Inc is shoving down people’s throats as nutrition at the time. In this process of updating the apocalypse, we may have more enemies, and fewer weapons; it's hard to see dawn in this darkness when all we have for illumination is what can be found in the darkness of our own hearts.

We are a dying species - at each other’s throats - be it with family, neighborhood or nation; you can hear the wail from every meaningful call for harmony or peace within earshot. We are about to confront our mortality in ways which have never been known by our kind, up to and including the "anonymous incineration" suffered by those murdered in Hiroshima and Nagasaki nearly 70 years ago. However, rapture will not be part of the carnage we are about to face, for by her very nature mother earth will recover. She will - over time - stabilize, and like the magnificent starship she be, proffer new shoots of growth to whatever strands of DNA or RNA able to thrive in our dying embers just as she nurtured life in the molten cataclysm of our inception. What will likely be missing are we puny humans who unwilling, unable or just too plain stupid to stop hurting each other. There will have been no agent of misery more responsible for our exit than the engine of our own human heart. Conversely the human heart may be the last echo of our species heard by whatever heir survives - hopefully riding that sole sacred noble steed we have managed to recognize - love.

jts 30/8/2014

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Wednesday, August 20, 2014

soixante bingo - the sonnet



 soixante bingo - like who is Ringo Starr
matters most to those who dig bongo.
Pop's ukelele was never too far;
writing - it doesn't seem so long ago .  .

.  . unless you're old, harder seeing it funny 
or, funnier depending how it's seen.
irony suggests laughter is the key . .
one knows better having dug a latrine.

By this time in life one hears hissing steam
cacophony don't stop - never a note.
Work is the best way to be in that dream;
because - a jingo ain't lingo, it's rote.

.  . but to the honey of my heart - i thank you ,
without whose bee i'd be nothing but blue .

jts 20 august 2014

http://stoneartist.com

Thursday, August 14, 2014

assume - the sonnet


So important Don Miguel said not to -
assume; he only had three other rules.
i have assumed when i should just ask you
no matter if you're wise or with the fools

Do you assume? if so, why, what reason?
Mostly i assume when not feeling strong, 
for giving up choice is like self-treason.
Bullshit true, but feelings aren't right or wrong.

The key may be to revere the question -
"may i sit down?" , "would you like to visit?"
leaving room for another's decision . . 
"yes" or "no" without me to inhibit. ?

I will not speak for you; that much i've learned,
but do now seek those things for which i've yearned.

jts 14 August 2014

Friday, August 8, 2014

i applied for a PhD in English Literature, then came the plague . .

courtesy of Stoneartist.com

I applied for a PHD years ago thinking it funny that people still laugh at Geoffrey Chaucer an English author from the 14th Century. I was intrigued by the fact that when he was young, every third person in England died from the plague. For perspective, imagine laughing after 2 billion 300 million people died while you were in middle school, and you not only laugh at the tragedy, but tell stories about it in such a way that people, if we still exist, will be laughing at your stories 600 years from now. Humor tends not to stay fresh, to paraphrase Dr. Victor Comerchero “humor has a short ‘shelf life’, but tragedy lives forever.” This paradox holds true today - few will recognize the name Studs Terkel (1912-2008), but many will read or know of Ann Frank’s Diary (1929-1945) - neither contemporary figures. Consider the ironic absurdity in which the state of Israel bombs a captive Palestine into the stone age while Palestine is to Israel, as the Roadrunner is to Wily Coyote. Worldwide outrage over this depraved act of cowardice has done nothing to staunch bloodletting, maybe laughing at these neofascist bureaucratic knaves will make a difference.

If our civilization is no longer capable of instructing it’s intellectuals how to improve the lives of the species, for what do we train our scholars? Let’s just skip the ivory towers and storm the citadels of commerce. There is a handful of 1,467 persons worldwide - each possessing a billion dollars or more. This cluster of uber-rich has hijacked unimaginable wealth, and enthralled 7 billion other human beings with the charade that 1,467 persons are actually worth 90% of the planet’s financial output; not only that, but as valuable as these nouveau rich are, the other 7 billion humans are not. This makes no sense to me. I often find it difficult to explain myself - not so funny. How can we extract, not only humor from the macabre, but reason from the paroxysms of chronic violence which describe leadership in our current form of governance. Those dualities in a narrowing field of options mean at this juncture in history the odds that what you do will contribute to the success or failure of our entire species are better than ever - and that’s kind of funny. The bad news is that in a world spilling over with superheroes, we got none.

There is a cruel irony that at that precise moment in history when we are in dire need of the greatest humanity can provide, every channel and method of training and indoctrination is demanding the least, propagating the cheapest and convincing the greatest number that they are the least powerful - i find that odd. Capitalist stormtroopers are branding “cheap” as the new manna with blessings from he who art in heaven. Today’s zealots claim great faith, enough to keep the world at war forever; not vastly different from the clergy during the bubonic plague - a mixture of venal and craven acts as with all walks of life during cataclysmic events. Unfortunately we’ve neutered the social frameworks which previous generations relied on - sewing bees, volunteer fireman, conversations. Ours is the internet generation which means human hubris which has clouded the thinking and interactions of humans besotted with love, death, greed etc. has an additional buffer between the world and human heart - the internet. Vaunted as the “information age” savior for a world losing meaning this lean-forward, time-sucking apparatus now more closely resembles that stack of magazines at your doctors office - expired and picked over.

It is the learning loss for which no one has yet answered. There is much ballyhoo about standards and money; few willing to concede they have consigned the human baby to a corporate maw from birth. I have no doubt of that enterprising father who has his child’s birth on a phone. . be mindful this apparatus is barely an infant as far as the public knows, yet as master Stephan Hawking has said, “I think computer viruses should count as life. I think it says something about human nature that the only form of life we have created so far is purely destructive.” That the ISP masters of the universe want to charge a lord’s ransom for what is virtually the cost of 5v current traveling in Plato’s Aether. This ransom for a communication channel is perverse and will ultimately be brought down by its own evil - witness glyphosate and monsatan, or the Walton House of Harkonnen about to topple from its adventures in aristocracy. These are monolithic monetary sinkholes that reflect a narrow ambition for which they are rewarded with narrow rewards. We must stop the erosion of our collective skill as a species, and remember we are capable of turning a bicycle into an airplane. Know that without this “fineness” in what you do - you’ll remain no more than scribble on a street corner posing as art



knowledge: the locus of today’s techno-wizards virtuosity is metadata, as though having an algorithm capable of processing photos of a bag of potato chips into an audio signal describes the world’s “mystery” anymore clearly is as vacuous as the potato chips are nutritional. The internet’s more insidious contribution to humanity is the ham-fisted conceit that such manipulation will yield anything but social carnage; consider brain surgery using a shovel. The real guide to what is in the interest of humanity will come from a careful awareness of the people and their behavior - learn, “read, rather than write to their disc” so to speak. The telescopic/magnifying lens that is the computer age has greatly distorted assumptions which leaders have been making from time immemorial about the mind of the people. Using a purloined conversation or a text message, social seers now feel that they understand - understand so well they have mortgaged the mandate for consent of the governed for that “feathered nest” FDR warned us about. Today’s terrified leaders are swamped by images and calculations which describe the onrushing annihilation - they are shitting their pants, and as anyone who’s ever worked knows “shit rolls down hill.” So like the old French adage “Plus les choses changent, plus elles restent les mêmes”, (the more things change, the more they remain the same), we may want to learn from the earliest of human civilizers and move the latrine out of our camp or vice versa .  .
more @ http://stoneartist.com

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

the Purple Pillow Covers of Paris - the sonnet


"The Purple Pillow Covers of Paris" . .
makes more sense than bombing children for peace.
.  . " they bombed the hospitals just to harass,"
versus : " purple pillows aid rest's release " . .

One is as far from beauty as man from love,
the other - kindness in a world on fumes;
one purpose is enriching sleep's alcove,
the other creating bestial-like dooms.

In times when water may be gone itself,
i prefer special care for a pillow
to humanity's betrayal to the pelf -
why not spit at g_d if you're so macho?

Murder won't make you a sacred subject;
you kill; and so become mammon's project.

jts 6 August 2014
more @ http://stoneartist.com


Sunday, August 3, 2014

synchronicity - the sonnet


synchronicity has five syllables
today it rained; i live in the desert.
when young i read “Dune” and sold Falafels.
today i watched “Dune” - again a convert.

soaking with “Man and His Symbols” opened
to heroes who don’t need us as we them.
Medusa as mama Jung posited.
i've had wives, women ain’t always a gem.

but like rain in a world quickly drying
to see and feel kinship with humanity
right when tyrants flog fear as meaning
our demons teach us how to be free.

it is not to kill, but to live, not to fear
nor frighten, but to welcome joy and tear.

jts 3 August 2014