I'm going nowhere! (With a smile!)

Sail away from the world...

So steer a course - a course for nowhere,
And drop the anchor: my little empire;

I'm going nowhere!
I'm going nowhere!
I'm going nowhere!

- The Good Ship Lifestyle

"Courage," or some such nonsensical rhetoric

"Long is the way, and hard, that out of Hell leads to light." - John Milton.

The *Real* Circle of Life

Life is pain mitigated only by choice of perceptive context,
Our ability to sleep is the eye of its perpetual storm;
Insomnia is life closing that eye to get some sleep of its own -
Regenerating its will to carry on, even as its momentum continues to pulverize:
A perfect system.
Suddenly I understand the necessity of inevitable death,
And while I look forward to experiencing it someday,
Right now I just want to fucking sleep.
I'm not dead yet, and I need a break.

It doesn't take a genius - just a non-idiot...

The following video is hilarious! ... for all of the wrong ironic reasons. Isn't the matriarchal vs patriarchal society non-issue becoming boring for everyone yet? Yes, high-rolling corporate assholes of the female persuasion are still sometimes paid less than high-rolling corporate assholes of the male persuasion in situations where all other factors and contexts are equal and identical... unless, of course, they simply open their mouths and demand appropriate pay before accepting something less than that... which, strangely enough, is exactly as true for men! As for the vast majority of people, earning incomes beneath the 6-figure margin, umm... somebody's not doing their research. Unless I'm mistaken, and this is actually the early 20th century - and that could certainly be the case...

In the parts of real life that actually matter at least a little bit, however, men and women are equally horrible to each other; they've just developed creatively different ways of going about it over the centuries. Anybody who believes otherwise is, well... drinking their own fucking kool-aid. But fuuuuck that true shit! Let's get MAD and SELF-RIGHTEOUS coz it feels GOOD and coz we're all fucking BABIES and all we wanna do is feel like GOOD FUCKIN' BABIES RIGHT FUCKIN' NOW because we fuckin' caaaaaan! RAAAAAR!

Instead of working on the root of the problem, let's continue to invent totally arbitrary and utterly meaningless standards of comparison which require only marginalization as justification... and then ignore the obvious fact that every human being living in society is equally marginalized just by breathing, and that any particular group claiming that they are the "rightful" victim is preaching to a choir of preachers who've been preachers since they were born.

Instead of trying to un-fuck our perceptions of reality, let's just pretend that each of us deserves to have whatever the hell we want, because we want it - ignoring the fact that we have all given up our rights to live lives of any kind of rational or logical sense or progression, and that society is a machine that only functions how it's designed to, and that it requires the explicit cooperation of both men and women to perpetuate ANY of its injustices... almost as if participation is both the cause and the effect!

Let's ignore the fact that anybody involved on any level has no legitimate right to complain about the reality they've courted into enslaving themselves. We're all being existentially raped at all times; arguing semantics makes you a fucking idiot. Look up the word "irrelevant," then look up the word "redundant," and then combine them into one word whose present-day vernacular means both of those things: "activism."

Let's continue to divide and compartmentalize our petty, superficial, short-sighted frustrations over and over and over again until they've been chopped into delusions small and palatable enough that we can turn them into popular focal points for the latest "activism" trend, then devote our lives to them, and eventually become the problem we maybe once sort-of wanted to eliminate.

... Because, as human cogs in human society, that's exactly what we do!

Here's just one more totally unremarkable drop in the bucket to demonstrate (see video below).

I have unfortunate news, unknown French filmmakers: the stink of everyone's shit is the ONLY thing at all equitable about human society, but you can make yours stink even worse when you whine and throw it all over the internet. Your "is not! - is too!" point would be clearer if you didn't dress it up in adult clothes. If it were me, I would have just filmed 10 minutes of a sippy cup full of apple juice against a backdrop of some scattered cheerios and called it "MOMMMMMMM! His pile of cheerios is bigger than mine!"

This is to intellectual relevance as Honey Boo Boo is to sane parenting.

What if...

As I wandered through my mind today, I pondered how I imagined the universe might most like to play, and as I did I wrote:

A little birdie, sailing through time and space before a wake of cosmic dust behind its asteroid boat, whispered something to my eyeball that caused my soul to rust and which I ought not paraphrase, and so I quote: "The "matrix" we know is just one of many leaves on a low-hanging branch, and its parent tree—the sum of the layers of perception you are capable of achieving as your purest selves in your greatest moments of believing—is just one again of many more fictitious fixations like it - casting their great shadows by the lights of your small fireflies of hope, inside of which are born and live and die an infinity of entire forests you cannot hope to know or ever even spy." Then, with a cathartic sigh, the little birdie rattled and died - its final and most comprehensive truth conveyed, in which its honest acceptance of a truly impossible dream allowed for it the most peaceful possible end that could ever find any living thing: no longer living, and thus no longer a lie.

Is there really even hope of peace in death?

Tonight I wondered which one of our natural rights is civilization's most proud theft. I think it might be this: our right to die with dignity, with our humanity intact. We no longer get to die, alone, quietly, modestly, in our favorite far corner of nature's nowhere. We no longer even have the option; even if there were still quiet corners and nowheres left in this world, we would drag into them those burdens of modern existence which drove us there in frustration. We would ultimately contaminate them and definitively destroy our last hope for any return to our naturalistic roots.

Instead, we have hospices and death beds and funerals and wakes and parades and dirges and candle-light fucking vigils, and in our final moments—when we should be left to meditate harmoniously on the peace inherent in our complete self knowledge and in the realization of a life lived honestly and with deliberation—we are surrounded by those social balls and chains responsible for creating and habituating our worst traits and encouraging our most ignorant and disappointing behaviors. There is no peace, no quiet, no respect for the dying - only the masturbation of selfishness and insecurity and fear of loss that's been hammered into the souls of those spectating.

Even as our loved ones believe they return us to the dirt from which we once came, they imprison us in treated wood and toxic plastic and forged metal and ceramic, and then they close the man-made lid on us forever: airtight, antiseptic, impermeable effigies to their denial and hypocrisy – sold to family, friends and passers-by alike in the palatable form of a tasteful lie on a grave marker.

Personally, I want to be erased forever when I die. In death, I don't want to be responsible for bearing even a faint remembrance of this tainted legacy of human society into any future that might ever be. I will consider it a perfect final act to die without any chance of perpetuating any of the falseness and soullessness clinging to everyone's heels throughout their so-called lives.

When I die, I want to be forgotten completely – and indefinitely.

When Language Works...

"Real eyes realize real lies."

A Public Service Announcement From Your Neighborhood Alien:

It just occurred to me, in quite a vexing realization, that my craving for chips this evening might have something to do with the fact that my new next-door neighbor has taken to exhausting seemingly impossible volumes of marijuana smoke out his front window - which is adjacent to my window and door - neither of which seal 100% perfectly. Grrr! That really pisses me off. I respect everyone's rights to damage their own bodies and cognitive abilities however they see fit, but when it crosses the line is when I'm forced to be exposed to the same harms. Of course, I also reserve my sovereign right to punch anyone the fuck out if they impinge on my health or freedoms in any way, shape or form, and I'm seriously considering it right now. The kid is a teenager, so it's not like he has any good excuse! I met him when he moved in... preeeeetty sure he doesn't have one of the few degenerative diseases for which marijuana prescriptions are—I mean "should be"—justifiable. Even if he did, he doesn't need to blow it down the fucking sidewalk so the entire neighborhood is subjected to an unwanted contact high.

On the one hand, I cannot abide inconsiderate people - so payback is on my mind, and I am very, very good at making people regret invading my rights (especially to uncontaminated air)...

But, he is young yet - so on the other hand, I almost feel compelled to go have an honest conversation with the kid, and ask him why he feels the need to chemically dissociate from reality: has he ever thought about it in those terms - or did he just take it up because it was a social pressure at some point and that's the most he's ever thought about it since? Is he trying to seek refuge from some emotional shit under a cloud of smoke, and if so has he maybe considered confronting his problems instead of avoiding them? Or, even if he'd rather stay detached from reality... has he perhaps considered alcoholism as an alternative - since the repeated numbing/dissociation/depression has an identical net effect on the subconscious, and because the biological damage caused by alcohol is generally less long-lived and won't scar the lungs or arteries—including those of other people—like smoke does? Does he fancy himself the creative sort, even though he's actually just an average nincompoop with delusions of importance - in which case does he think that causing his neurons to fire randomly constitutes some form of meaningful creation... and in that case, has he ever considered finding actual inspiration in some real part of life, (or perhaps in that infinitely-vast and potentially-objective abstractive playground called "an imagination"), rather than simply trying to draw it from a few puffs of illusory faux-experience? Has he heard of the very basic logical concept that, while perception is infinitely variable, reality (in complete contrast to it) is binary - and that the more unnecessarily-varied and -complex perceptions are allowed to become, the further reality retreats from the consciousness... and that self-awareness and logical intelligence and emotional harmony alike all depend on being able to first achieve and then maintain an honest and accurate vision of what is real and what is not?

Eh, it'd be a lost cause, anyway. Mostly I'm sick and tired of people blowing smoke in my face, either directly or indirectly. But if I'm honest, this whole legalization of marijuana thing is a huge step in the wrong fucking direction, and the ever-increasing evidence illuminated by the toking-trend is both depressing and overwhelming. THC alone suppresses essential neural chemistry, disrupting vital hormonal patterns and putting tremendous stress on the body's adrenal system by burning it at both ends - and that's before considering the damage done to the respiratory and circulatory systems by any kind of smoke. I get that it's trendy, and that all the stupid fucking hipsters are doing it, that it makes people feel "good," (particularly when they have perfectly sensible reasons to feel bad, as with any other form of emotional self-medication), that there are plenty of bored wannabe-artists from both the past and present whose few accidental moments of clarity are credited to their pursuit of "altered"—(actually: diminished)—states of consciousness as if that somehow constitutes plausible causality, (fallacy - delicious!)... but it really just makes me want to start a different counter-trend that involves vast populations of people walking straight off a lethal cliff - just to make the fucking point unavoidably obvious.

But... I won't do that. I have to remember that I can't fix people; they have to be left to make their own mistakes. If they're looking for reality, eventually they'll stumble through the obfuscating cloud—pun intended—of entertaining delusion and find it... and if they're not looking for it, there's no way to even point them in the right direction.

Seeing the entire god-damned picture is really depressing, sometimes. I will admit to occasionally allowing myself brief moments of self-pity in which I half-wish I only saw the "bigger" picture, or just plain old "big," or, hell, how about "average," or even "small" like your average mouth-breather. Ahhh... but, the moments pass, and then I realize that I have to watch with open eyes as everyone around me destroys themselves and enslaves themselves... and then proceeds to erect enormous subconscious effigies to those "successes," and worships them unquestioningly until the day they die - when, for a fraction of a second, just before the electrical energy fades from their brains, they realize their mistake. It's really fucking sad, and frankly I suspect that such a waste of the gift of life may somehow translate into a lesser contribution to the universe in the post-biological phase of life, whatever that may be, and that also pisses me off a bit. It's a damned frustration that the universe doesn't enforce any sort of useful standard, frankly.

Still, I can't do anything about it - and, if I don't continue to pay stark attention as people devolve into real-life zombies around me every day, I might someday forget the lesson inherent in their failure and become a zombie myself. I owe more to the universe than simply "giving up," so I can't accept that.

That said... Why are people so dumb!? Why!? And to people who smoke (anything!): DON'T ALLOW IT TO ENTER ANYONE ELSE'S AIRSPACE. PERIOD.

I feel like a fucking alien on my own planet.

Why, yes - I *am* the most interesting man in the world.

I don't often eat an entire bag of chips in one sitting... but when I do, I prefer Doritos.

Stay cheesy, my friends.

Logical fallacy and rhetorical argumentation and theistic insanity, oh my!

Oh my godddddd. I'm watching the recent Bill Nye/Ken Ham debate, and this Ken Ham guy is just a... he's been talking for 15 minutes but HE HASN'T *SAID ANYTHING* YET! Stop quoting Bible verses, dummy! A point cannot be rationally supported by simply citing its precipitating assumptions over and over! "Biblical creation makes sense because of so-and-so reasons laid out in the Bible," REALLY!? Ya think!? Ambiguous fallacy here, presumptive fallacy there, circuitous rhetoric everywhere... I'm going to openly court irony here and just say JESUS CHRIST, Ken! This thing was over before it even began - though, of course, that's a rather moot point, given that theism and science inevitably intersect at mutual-exclusion anyway. Still... funny to watch, if only to be reminded that some elements of human intellect are truly so far gone that they can only ever hope to save themselves.

True Facts.

On the Subject of Opinions:

No one is entitled to any opinion about anything. 

Suggesting otherwise is merely a witless deflection. You can and should be open to listening to others present their ideas so long as they have solid reason backing them up—and that's good if you are—but that doesn't implicitly mean that either your or their ideas have any real value at all - unless they are rationally supported to their fullest extent, when a truly valid point can then be made.

There's correct, and there's incorrect; informed, and misinformed (and disinformed!). Only in the case of the former, in either case, is an opinion anything more than a mere single step toward the ultimate goal of achieving an actual answer. Until it achieves that goal, an opinion is useless except to provoke discourse between intellectuals. Hovering between the two extremes of idea and conclusion is part of the problem that allows important issues to "exist" forever, circulating uselessly in the social rhetorical, constantly causing useless friction when they can and should be put to rest with a definitive solution. Perception and reality are either identical to each other, or they contradict each other; there is no middle ground! 

Compromise is merely the most convenient mechanism employed by the fearful to justify their perpetual philosophical limbo - and, (so they think, at least), to excuse their divestment of all intellectual responsibility to—but most importantly for—themselves.

I Want to Be Dirt, Again.

To "belong" to a culture carries only subjective value, and little even of that; only the incredibly foolish or incurably fearful would compromise all reason for the benefit of a dysfunctional family that benefits none of its members. Had it a voice as simple as the human mind, the universe would set its horrified laughter to resound within these fragile spines as dirges for our dead futures. What a pathetic fly of a soul one must possess, to simply accept drowning in the ointment of all life as most do! What travesty of inner vision abides blinding oneself to the serenity of absolute truth, in the name of imagined absolution?

This, above all things, I strive to know and never forget - for while I live—and when I die—I would have the world's poison fresh upon my lips, that I might warn the Earth herself if e'er she sees fit to once more dabble in human folly, come her next youth.

Some of my favorite Thoreau (and a somewhat fitting soundtrack):

"We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn, which does not forsake us in our soundest sleep. I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate his life by a conscious endeavor. It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make a few objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look, which morally we can do. To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of arts. Every man is tasked to make his life, even in its details, worthy of the contemplation of his most elevated and critical hour.

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion. For most men, it appears to me, are in a strange uncertainty about it, whether it is of the devil or of God, and have somewhat hastily concluded that it is the chief end of man here to "glorify God and enjoy him forever."

Still we live meanly, like ants; though the fable tells us that we were long ago changed into men; like pygmies we fight with cranes; it is error upon error, and clout upon clout, and our best virtue has for its occasion a superfluous and evitable wretchedness. Our life is frittered away by detail. An honest man has hardly need to count more than his ten fingers, or in extreme cases he may add his ten toes, and lump the rest. Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say, let your affairs be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand; instead of a million count half a dozen, and keep your accounts on your thumb-nail. In the midst of this chopping sea of civilized life, such are the clouds and storms and quicksands and thousand-and-one items to be allowed for, that a man has to live, if he would not founder and go to the bottom and not make his port at all, by dead reckoning, and he must be a great calculator indeed who succeeds. Simplify, simplify. Instead of three meals a day, if it be necessary eat but one; instead of a hundred dishes, five; and reduce other things in proportion. Our life is like a German Confederacy, made up of petty states, with its boundary forever fluctuating, so that even a German cannot tell you how it is bounded at any moment. The nation itself, with all its so-called internal improvements, which, by the way are all external and superficial, is just such an unwieldy and overgrown establishment, cluttered with furniture and tripped up by its own traps, ruined by luxury and heedless expense, by want of calculation and a worthy aim, as the million households in the land; and the only cure for it, as for them, is in a rigid economy, a stern and more than Spartan simplicity of life and elevation of purpose. It lives too fast. Men think that it is essential that the Nation have commerce, and export ice, and talk through a telegraph, and ride thirty miles an hour, without a doubt, whether they do or not; but whether we should live like baboons or like men, is a little uncertain."

"Why should we live with such hurry and waste of life? We are determined to be starved before we are hungry. Men say that a stitch in time saves nine, and so they take a thousand stitches today to save nine tomorrow. As for work, we haven't any of any consequence."

"And I am sure that I never read any memorable news in a newspaper. If we read of one man robbed, or murdered, or killed by accident, or one house burned, or one vessel wrecked, or one steamboat blown up, or one cow run over on the Western Railroad, or one mad dog killed, or one lot of grasshoppers in the winter — we never need read of another. One is enough. If you are acquainted with the principle, what do you care for a myriad instances and applications? To a philosopher all news, as it is called, is gossip, and they who edit and read it are old women over their tea. Yet not a few are greedy after this gossip."

"Shams and delusions are esteemed for soundest truths, while reality is fabulous. If men would steadily observe realities only, and not allow themselves to be deluded, life, to compare it with such things as we know, would be like a fairy tale and the Arabian Nights' Entertainments. If we respected only what is inevitable and has a right to be, music and poetry would resound along the streets. When we are unhurried and wise, we perceive that only great and worthy things have any permanent and absolute existence, that petty fears and petty pleasures are but the shadow of the reality. This is always exhilarating and sublime. By closing the eyes and slumbering, and consenting to be deceived by shows, men establish and confirm their daily life of routine and habit everywhere, which still is built on purely illusory foundations. Children, who play life, discern its true law and relations more clearly than men, who fail to live it worthily, but who think that they are wiser by experience, that is, by failure."

"Look at a meeting-house, or a court-house, or a jail, or a shop, or a dwelling-house, and say what that thing really is before a true gaze, and they would all go to pieces in your account of them. Men esteem truth remote, in the outskirts of the system, behind the farthest star, before Adam and after the last man. In eternity there is indeed something true and sublime. But all these times and places and occasions are now and here. God himself culminates in the present moment, and will never be more divine in the lapse of all the ages. And we are enabled to apprehend at all what is sublime and noble only by the perpetual instilling and drenching of the reality that surrounds us. The universe constantly and obediently answers to our conceptions; whether we travel fast or slow, the track is laid for us. Let us spend our lives in conceiving then. The poet or the artist never yet had so fair and noble a design but some of his posterity at least could accomplish it.

Let us spend one day as deliberately as Nature, and not be thrown off the track by every nutshell and mosquito's wing that falls on the rails. Let us rise early and fast, or break fast, gently and without perturbation; let company come and let company go, let the bells ring and the children cry — determined to make a day of it. Why should we knock under and go with the stream? Let us not be upset and overwhelmed in that terrible rapid and whirlpool called a dinner, situated in the meridian shallows. Weather this danger and you are safe, for the rest of the way is down hill. With unrelaxed nerves, with morning vigor, sail by it, looking another way, tied to the mast like Ulysses. If the engine whistles, let it whistle till it is hoarse for its pains. If the bell rings, why should we run? We will consider what kind of music they are like. Let us settle ourselves, and work and wedge our feet downward through the mud and slush of opinion, and prejudice, and tradition, and delusion, and appearance, that alluvion which covers the globe, through Paris and London, through New York and Boston and Concord, through Church and State, through poetry and philosophy and religion, till we come to a hard bottom and rocks in place, which we can call reality, and say, This is, and no mistake; and then begin, having a point d'appui, below freshet and frost and fire, a place where you might found a wall or a state, or set a lamp-post safely, or perhaps a gauge, not a Nilometer, but a Realometer, that future ages might know how deep a freshet of shams and appearances had gathered from time to time. If you stand right fronting and face to face to a fact, you will see the sun glimmer on both its surfaces, as if it were a cimeter, and feel its sweet edge dividing you through the heart and marrow, and so you will happily conclude your mortal career. Be it life or death, we crave only reality. If we are really dying, let us hear the rattle in our throats and feel cold in the extremities; if we are alive, let us go about our business.

Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains. I would drink deeper; fish in the sky, whose bottom is pebbly with stars. I cannot count one. I know not the first letter of the alphabet. I have always been regretting that I was not as wise as the day I was born."

— Excerpts from "Walden; or, Life in the Woods," by Henry David Thoreau

— to answer the question:

"Why do we die?" —

Sportz.

WOOOHOO! GREAT GAME LAST NIGHT! Did you see Tiger Woods?! - that man can DUNK those home runs! He was serving the puck so fast I could barely see it spiraling through the air.

I love sportz.

Sometimes I Wonder If No One Else Considers...

... the tragic irony that Social Darwinism as a precept of human culture has only grown more and more ubiquitous since the Nazis made their move to conquer the world.

I wonder if those former party leaders who are still alive will die with smiles on their faces - knowing that while the military strategy may have failed, the social ramifications of their brainwashing continue to reverberate well into the future of a mostly oblivious civilization. Their cult's simultaneous courtship of the fundamental fear and arrogance in all human beings was successful... but not because of anything the Nazi party actually did; rather, it was successful by default - the Nazis simply gave it their name, and in doing so made the idea accessible through rhetoric and possessable via language-ownership. Humans already have a powerful tendency toward objectification of other human beings as a simple symptom of—and as a coping mechanism to deal with the cognitive dissonance inherent in—fear and self-ignorance. Nazi ideology was so popular not merely because of the charismatic and persuasive figurehead(s) at the forefront of the movement, but because the dogma was already so intrinsically familiar to everyone that open acknowledgement of it was a very small step to make, especially considering the typical psychological environment created by widespread human overpopulation.

If anything, the profound irrational idiocy of Social Darwinism has grown even stronger and has become more fundamental to the status quo over the years, subtly insinuating itself into the foundations of the societies we now occupy. The fact that so few people have any awareness at all of its pervasive influence is a significant component of its present power as well as the primary vehicle of its perpetuation. Ignorance even as an incidental religion—as with all other religion based on belief—requires only itself to fulfill all prophecies - and turning a blind eye toward something that clearly exists is its most sacred form of worship.

What are Cover Girl, Chippendales, Victoria's Secret, etc., but false, unnatural, contrived symbols of an arbitrary "ideal" to which the materially-richest and most socially-powerful would have the rest of us subscribe? These—and the plenitude of other ideas like them—are epitomes of meaningless goals sold to the discontent masses under the pretense of possibility and "betterment" - keeping the population perpetually chasing a carrot that does not exist, all so they will continue to produce and consume and produce and consume and keep that precious money flowing upstream. Everyone knows this on some level; no person is truly that ignorant beneath the consciousness. These lies are powerfully marketed as both practical and essential, and for some god-damned reason people seem content to believe them... instead of taking just offense and, ideally, taking up arms in all senses of the term. Why? The answer is everywhere - hiding in utterly plain sight.

Our societies are built on game theories. Our cities are merely casinos in which we are constantly gambling away our lives for a chance at someone else's mass-marketed generic lie titled "happiness." Inside them, we go so far as to build discrete "casinos" to help sell the illusion of distinction from our everyday lives - peddling a secondary version of willful ignorance, for those times when we almost accidentally break through the primary delusion. There are layers upon layers of such lies that we pay for with days and months and decades in blind devotion to careers and consumer roles, and we aren't even fed them by force! Rather, we seek them out and buy them with our youth and innocence and curiosity and passion and honesty, and by the time we run out of parts of ourselves to give away, we're so addicted already that we'll shamelessly resort to begging just for mere scraps of a lie. Our forebears were addicts, and our current generation is simply the next in a series of addicts by birth; our drug of choice is allowing our choices to be made for us so we don't have to feel or experience. The certain—but measurable and constant—sacrifice of our most intrinsic freedoms is evidently preferable to the unknown—and thus frightening—possibility of loss in the face of honest risk.

This "human race" in its current form is just a joke without a punchline. Most of us are so far removed from our natural environments and our natural behaviors and our natural sentient-equilibrium that we're only very-technically alive... and that only in a solely-biological sense.


We have devolved into a species of profound cowards, so self-absorbed that simply staying the same is celebrated as the pinnacle of human achievement. Pitiful. Disgraceful. Even those of us who are aware of the bars lose more of ourselves with every day we remain caged. Do you know who holds the key to the prison your mind lives in?

Originally deployed to actively enslave the minds of the people, the current iteration of the "Nazi" regime—media, politics, consumer marketing of lifestyles alongside physical aesthetics, sexuality and contrived happiness—no longer even needs to make that minimal effort. "We, the people" enslaved ourselves long ago - first to fear, then to that which distracts from it, and then to the successive generations of increasingly-complex lies which obscure the very notion of "denial."

Here we are now: happy slaves... and working harder for our masters than ever before - all still without even the faintest crumb of meaningful compensation. Ask yourself why. Ask your neighbor why. Then, for once, don't deflect the question - and don't allow anyone else to, either. Our slavery won't end itself. You are your own one and only underground railroad to freedom; choose. Choose!

As long as the ads keep rolling, and people keep watching, and buying, and believing, and practically begging to shape their bodies and attitudes into free publicity for the corporations who own their minds... freedom is a moot point - so far removed from relevance that even calling it ironic would qualify as optimism. Participation and by-standing alike are allowing our progeny to be enslaved. How can anyone let this happen any longer? How can anyone pretend to believe that this way of pretending to live is actually anything but voluntary slavery? Where is the fight? Have you ever heard another human being use the word "dissent" in normal conversations about social ideology? I fear, often, that more than just the word itself may have been lost to time and apathy and canned-vernacular.

Some major and fundamental aspect of every person would proactively give anything for the cause of freedom - so, since you're living the American Dream instead of being free, I have to ask: what did it take to buy-off that part of your soul? Electric heat? Television? Cellphones? Laws, perhaps; trading accountability for and to yourself for arbitrary accountability to someone else's materialism and greed? Ask yourself what you could live without, if you had to. If you allow yourself to stop being afraid of the masters taking your "treats" and luxuries away, something will happen to your perception: a shift toward reality that will stir the animal in you—that intrinsic component of every human's being that will stop at nothing to defend the cause of real, genuine freedom—to tear the throat out of the lie we live in - or else die in so doing.

Society is far further 'gone' than even the prevailing cynics realize. I wonder often if mother universe has already closed its doors and locked up its remaining secrets from us forever - having realized that most of its human children have been gone so long that they are likely to never return home to the quest for true betterment. I'm honestly not sure which scenario I'd prefer, but at least there can be squeezed some small solace from the facts that I am still asking myself that question - and that I won't stop pursuing its answer.

Meanwhile, the rest of the world keeps on turning of its own oblivious accord - impossible for any one person to stop alone.

Weird fact of the day

(According to the company...) Every rectal thermometer from Johnson & Johnson is personally tested and then sanitized.