Ah yes, it is now DAY *%#@&! 61 of the collective 24/7 terminally crazy-making Mother-Earth-slasher movie and bad-acid trip. Probably 3/4 of the population is hopelessly pharmicated and oblivious, and psychos in suits drone on about how there is no alternative to their demon-serving, child-abusing, life-destroying agenda. All sea life is rushing and crowding to the shores where the oxygen's still available. The first dead Sperm Whale has been found. And the BP escrow account will be managed by the former 911-victims' fund manager, we're told. Nice, huh? No evil deed goes unrewarded apparently. Ha ha, 'change' is for piggy banks.
[<-Bagalamukhi removing lying demon's tongue]
We should see where this EMERGENCY GULF CRISIS SUMMIT in New Orleans this Saturday goes - a 'peoples' gathering of activists, environmentalists, scientists, cultural creatives, and Gulf residents. It's really time for the infantile fuck-ups in every arena to be told to pick up their toys and go to their rooms for a long 'time-out'. Like maybe forever, if they show no inclination to grow up. Let their human-imposter masters try to run their shit with all the hired-help minions stuck in down-time. As to their eventual sentencing, we'll have to cross that bridge when the time comes. The depositions are about all in though.
There's also a free open web conference of some of the 13 INDIGENOUS GRANDMOTHERS. Things should, and need to, speed up immensely as we approach the Summer Solstice. Truth needs to be heard far and wide, energy needs to be moved, and creative imagination needs to be amped to the max.
Spent yesterday accompanying an old friend - talented oud player - trained in Turkish, Persian, Arabic and North Indian Raga styles. No one here knows what is going to really 'work', but every day of culture-preservation counts as a victory, and it's a gratifyingly positive endeavor during any (endless) wartime. It's medicine to keep one's wits about one, and you can't give too much thanks and praises for what we've been given and shown in this precious human birth. If a culture won't, or fails to, give back to the Holy - it's not a real culture. This western culture is still only an infantile 'culture' and everything claimed by it has been borrowed, stolen, or has arisen out of rebellion against true culture's destruction. It's headed for becoming another infant-mortality statistic in the planetary ledger.
There are so many terminal scenarios floating out there in the ether, there's no way any conscious living being can't be feeling it. Except for the denizens of the zombie food court, all living beings are holding the tension of extinction awareness. Each newly revealed scenario brings us days or months closer to probable demise, and our personal requirement of facing up to the inevitable. Most envisioned outcomes include massive numbers of beings simultaneously checking out. We face this because 'we' have not given a shit about the billions and trillions of lives which have been wasted 'in our name', and for the 'necessities' of our 'way of life': the natural world, the animals, the human slaughter of religious, imperial, and economic wars; our very air and water as well. I can well understand the feelings of Iraq's Layla Anwar of 'arabwomanblues', after the total destruction of her ancient culture and all her people (who's gonna pay for that 'restoration'?), her feelings toward amerikans who only now slowly begin to wake up to an immanent great loss of their ecosystems and potential universal poisoning. She states she couldn't care less about what happens to us. But, unfortunately we're all connected, despite all our illusions. There's like a mega freakin lottery going on to see who gets to destroy the world. Who will win? The xtian rapture fundies, the israhelli 'samsonites', the mafias with their zombie killers, the corporate elites with arctic bunkers...?
They're all deluded. They have control over NOTHING, especially their own futures.
But to be able to see that, Divine Grace and/or ruthless deadly serious meditation would be required. There are many more dimensions to what's taking place than what's apparent. For clues into that complexity one might want to check the latest Visible Origami (linked on the sidebar), or study up on the work of Terence McKenna or Graham Hancock. And some may have to get some assistance from the plant realm even, to belatedly light a fire under their ass. Marginalized artists and serious seekers have been pointing this out forever, to little avail.
["Gift of Medicine" - Marianna Rydvald ->]
Naomi Klein just wrote the following:
"And this is surely the strangest twist in the Gulf coast saga: it seems to be waking us up to the reality that the Earth never was a machine. After 400 years of being declared dead, and in the middle of so much death, the Earth is coming alive."
After hearing the Gulf Crisis Summit today one thing is obvious: a large area is going to become so toxic that there will need to be mass evacuation. It's gonna get messy, and it will happen soon. No way around that. Oh great, a new 'trail of tears'.
In general, the whole world is as-yet-unknowingly united in the inevitability of having to face and deal with numerous issues: ecocide, control-by-psychopaths, toxic religions, criminal-mafia-states, corporate-military-science insanity, nationalistic patriotism, multi-national entities, slavery and human/child trafficking, cultural genocide, destruction of education, and cultural infantilism, among other centuries-old derangements. Unfortunately, if that's too much on humanity's plate, most are doomed. An awakening of a certain critical mass to our interconnectedness with all life is probably our only possible way out. As the Hopi saw, the wasichu took the 'lower path'. Now, if it's not too late, where is the 'white brother'?
Meanwhile, BP Tony is attending his important yacht race today, but does have his cell-phone on. I don't have his number handy, sorry. Perfect description of the sickness that must be eradicated.
The Gulf Crisis Summit was encouraging. Many people, including Cindy Sheehan, came together to form a concrete strategy for people power and disseminating crucial information. We'll have to see if it gets legs or is ruthlessly crushed. Either way, life-as-we-knew-it will soon be finished. "Good riddance, you won't be missed."
6 comments:
Perhaps the Fema camps will get their workout after all. Strange and beautiful things happen in camps in spite of razorwire and armed guard.
Actually, I see that stage as a brief placeholder as the toxicity gradually envelopes the oceans and wanders into the interior of the continents through rivers and streams until the oxygen is depleted and the curtain finally falls.
Something could happen, there could be outside intervention releasing the pent up anger/anguish of the oppressed so that the Native American children, the Slaves' progeny, the Palestinian youth, Iraqi children and little Haitian babies, all peoples in fact, who have been innocently doomed by this evil system will be saved to create a new and better world as reparation for never having had a chance, reason or choice to live.
Crushall post, Bholanath. Crucial times.
Nina -
Yes, "something could happen", something MUST happen.
Damn! Your paintings are over the top lovely. They feed me.
So honored by your visit.
respects,
bholanath
Thanks Spar, and thanks for the new EZ comment form.
I wanted to make sure you saw the following piece, speaking of The Earth Never Was a Machine, here's some propaganda as art showing they used to think it was.
The Louisiana Story: ... The meeting of machine and nature resulted in the happy confluence of the two great forces that defined the country. Thus as the war was coming to an end we find Francis and Robert driving around the country looking for a suitable dramatic locale to shoot their oil film, becoming increasingly frustrated until, one day in Louisiana, near a bayou: “Suddenly, over the heads of the marsh grass, an oil derrick came into our view. It was moving up the bayou, towed by a launch. In motion, this familiar structure suddenly became poetry, its slim lines rising clean and taut above the unending flatness of the marshes. I looked at Francis. She looked at me. We knew then we had our picture. Almost immediately a story began to take shape in our minds. It was a story built around that derrick which moved so silently, so majestically into the wilderness; probed for oil beneath the watery ooze, and then moved on again, leaving the land as untouched as before it came.” ...
... a propaganda film turned to art. It is also a testament to the seemingly infinite human capacity for self-deception, blinded by greed and the brilliance of our clever inventions. Long before Flaherty made his film Louisiana wetlands were being steadily depleted by the Mississippi River levee system, robbing them of the sedimentary deposits needed for their renewal. With the wholesale invasion of big oil after Flaherty’s day, the cutting of thousands of miles of canals through the wetlands hastening the erosive process, the countless befouling leaks and spills, large and small, the refineries and chemical factories spewing their carcinogens, the thousands of ugly, grimy, flaming oil rigs blighting the Gulf with their armadas of attendant machinery, the irreplaceable loss of a unique culture and ecosystem, and now, with the apocalyptic BP/US gusher delivering its kill shot to the Gulf and the coastal wetlands, we have in full Dynamax 3D the 21st century sequel to Flaherty’s quiet little film. It is a spectacular fit for our empty, violent age where the pornographic stakes are raised higher and higher...
So honored by your reply.
Love, nina
bholanath I could of sworn I heard a drum last night,playing across the sea,I thought of you the drummer
drumming out the free..peace neil
well, I've been working on the traditional Kali-Durga-Goddess drum piece I hope to have up this week. No worries, She's full of Light.
-respects
Thanks for posting this. It tends to drives you Mad, one seeks in opposition. Though wisdom is small, and knowledge little we look for every jot maybe a tittle.
Bad poetry, laughter, music and friends are what matter at this end.
And thank you for the music.
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