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The Desolate Landscape

Through the desolate landscape, we press on stoically

scenes of violence and sin, we grin and bear heroically

We raise arms up to quell the world around

we fire the gun ending all peaceful sound.

No responsiblity do we shirk from

Bravely we set off the god-bomb.

Bow down to our techno power

with a smiling face, never sour.

Lap it up till it turns you inside out

leaving minds no longer capable of introspective doubt

Whiz around, rush from one fix to another

nothing new on heaven or earth to discover

Let the experts tell you what is what

let the reason for it all be forgot.

Put down our burden, our moral strife

let it be, just live and let life

take its own determined natural course

driven by supra normal force.

All is for the best, and for the worst,

Lay it all to rest: our blessed curse.



On the Surface

Floating on the surface, festering away

lies the slurping, slivering, slimey scum

without direction, purpose, morally gray.

The monotonous beat of the drum

marks the close of another day.

My head begins to swell and to thrum.

A fog descends around the dreary pool

I inhale its venomous toxins.

I begin to dance and play like a fool.

Pulled by strings, in shiny moccasins.

A wide smile, too wide, pervades my face

A mark of dishonour and disgrace.

I am lured in to the darkening mud.

I stumble and fall soundlessly without a thud.

The Destroyer

Tear up this straight-jacketed land

Pulverise it to a fine grain of sand

Depart from this comfortable lie

No more will I turn a blind eye.

For fate puts destruction in my hands

So shake off the dust and disband

Away from this sham world, say goodbye

For the new leaf to grow, the old must die.

All the ways have been surveyed and scanned

Round the wide horizon, my view has panned

No creation here can ever truly begin,

No ground is gained without some guilt and sin.

So I must destroy, and I must deny

Sweep the ground low, to later fly high.

Reflections on an Election

The end of ideas, imagination and vision
In favor of fear, jealousy and derision
A dearth of high values and beliefs
in favor of food and aid relief.

Thinking people unsure in their opinions and divided
While our doom is by the thoughtless decided.
A victory for empty-headedness
and for elitist inbrededness

A plethora of wealth, privilege and right
A paucity of health, values and delight.
The economy onwards, like deadweight is tugged
The Atlas of a hopeful world, dismissed, shrugged.

Fundamentalists and Reductionists: The Miraculous, the Rational, and the absence of the Real.

Let us take a typical quote of a self-assured rationalist. And then discuss what is so wrong about it:

“Life on earth is not a “miracle” but can be completely explained by science.”

It is statements like this, sneaked in by many atheists and rationalists in to their discourse, that are completely unjustified. They try to polarize the debate between idiot fundamentalists and creationists who believe in childish miracles, and themselves, mature adults who know the rational truth in such an obvious way, that they can make offhand statements about science being able to completely explain life.

What happened to this world that the supposedly “rational” and scientific people have become so deluded about what they know and about what they can explain? There is no God, so they feel compelled to play god, or let science or rationality take on the role of a god, by being all-knowing, Omniscient. Is that what it is?

It seems in human society as a whole there is only ever two choices: between Idols and Gods. Gods are on the back foot currently (For us “mature” non-fundamentalists who don’t believe in “childish” miracles), so idols have come to the forefront. Material idols of celebrities, possessions, money, success, popularity, and ideologies as idols, such as rationality, science, capitalism, individualism, collectivism.

Why and when did we become so conceited to think we had broken free of millenium-old human patterns of social behavior? I think it can only be due to the distance between our own mental fortresses of the night and the social and practical worlds we live in during the day. It has created a disconnect, allowing us to make confident mental assertions since we know there is little likely repercussions of our statements in practice.

In truth, we are mentally conceited, precisely because we are so materially impoverished in our practical influence on the world. We would be better suited to be more humble, to acknowledge our miniscule influence in this overgrown runaway world. Then maybe we can overcome the disconnect in our own minds, and begin to further our awareness. So we do not need to rely on “rational” ideologies, or “unquestionable” miracles, but can once more appreciate the real. A limited power, for sure, but at least a real power and not a conceited illusion setting us up for a fall.


An enveloping calm, a nebulous embrace

warmth enthused with grace

I come to no harm, in this safe space

Clarity cuts through the haze,

murders like a vacant gaze,

like a worn out, clichéd phrase.

Blurred boundaries and hazy lines

Perception never once confined

My imagination renewed, refined.

There is life in the unclear,

in the far, as opposed to the near

to which our nostalgia endears.


Mental Supernova

The aftermath of destruction is quite gratifying to the mind. There is a sense of freedom: of a return to the void where all is possible. No burdens and no responsibilities. Problem is, we often just go down the same path all over again, and make the same mistakes. Like a person who does not remember, and so cannot learn from their experience. Gratification and what is best to do, thus are rarely aligned. But just as a too willing desire to destroy leads to repetition, so a refusal to ever destroy leads to stagnation. We are stuck in a tight bind, a vise.

Can the forces of creation and destruction be harnessed in a healthy way or is there always an element of insanity in the breaking up of solidified habits and rituals? A madness that creeps in insidiously? Can the mind stretch to encompass its world, or must it always compartmentalize itself away in to some comfortable niche? Pure awareness would be the ideal goal for an integrated mental entity. But you can be certain that such would not be ideal for the propagation of the species. Do we choose our own integrity, or a world that will slowly tear us apart and break us down?

The only difference is in the way we depart. Maintain integrity to the end, and explode into a million pieces when the pressure reaches a critical point. Or steadily disintegrate and drift apart in the void. The life of the mind, it seems, follows pretty much to a tee, the life-cycle of the stars.


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