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I’ve seemingly reached the point of life where I can no longer relay the death of someone person without being informed about the death of another person I have/do know.
Ideas die, What ideas are dead?
I don’t want to be morbid but…again,
What ideas are dead?
Religion to me has crucified itself…an idea.
The war machine to me, more over peace has the greater monetary value…an idea.
The politics of self absorption to me has the greater virtue than the politics of communal libation…an idea.
Fear of the impossible to me has greater power than the reality of probability…an idea.
I find that in the chase for a buck I come late to the show and am vilified for the pursuit.
I look to those who claim to be my betters and see that theirs is a one way street.
I’m writing of the media here. I have found that they have let me down. I have consumed them to the point that they cannot comprehend the impact that they have created…the monster as it were/is.
For decade upon decade there has been a steady stream of them diatribing life as they see it.
They, like Frankenstein ultimately run from their creation.
They/them. Those people, who are the great guessers ( that’s what Vonnegut called them) of life have without doubt failed the masses. They are without doubt petrified to face their creation.
Manufactured Consent: Where the wind blows I shall pull you by the nose.
Harvesting dollars and sense conglomerated dispatch
Presses the ridge of patience
And punctures blinding vision bloody raw tears
Tell me something! what should a frog taste like?
I’m understanding that there are averages.
Life cycles of species…2 million years is my understanding, Homo sapiens appear to be around a quarter way through their evolutionary cycle. Small potato species we are but yet we are by all indications the most consciously aware. Queer that it is so because beyond evolutionary failure, we are still in the driver seat for the capacity to oblige our own demise…we can make ourselves disappear but for a fossil record.
We can control our destiny but it appears that we are choosing not to. Predetermination…arguably one of the defining philosophical questions we’ve failed to come to terms with.
We emerged and evolved, we created nonsensical stories to comprehend the meaning of us. Pretending that ancient/antiquated stories have relevance. An idea.
Thousands of years are second nature/inbred survival…what’s beyond instinct?.
Evolution as fact. Yet has civil society kept up with the times?
Hobbes must be…could be…would he…grin from ear to ear? an idea.
Are we pretending not to be brutes? pinkies out! an idea.
A thing taste as it should
a smooth smile slips and a tooth chips
My that local star its upright and downright
It is never just up there
it comes from all sides. I can look down
there it is, when it is at my back
It blinds my eyes, a’skance is no different
The troubling affair of life, the joy of life.
I’m hungry…I shall eat!