Walking home I realised that a sudden catastrophic collapse of this ‘civilisation’ might actually be better than if it staggered on like it is, consumptive, unconscious, and increasingly unequal, for another hundred years or more. Not least because it might favour those who are currently adapted to scavenging and living on very little (the poor) over those who are used to having everything served to them and done for them (the rich(er)).
Of course it would be better still if it underwent a genuine non-violent psycho-spiritual global revolution, (for everyone, I mean) but of these three possible paths, which are more likely?
John Campbell of Pictures for Sad Children and other things, has reviewed Horse Master, a more or less text based game/art/? If you knew in your viscera that beneath the Google+Amazon internet(tm) where information is bleached, irradiated, frozen, cut into regular sized chunks and sold back to us for a profit, lies another IN(nt)ER-net where information (word / number / link) is played with, exposed, shared, magnified, face-painted, eroticised and given away to all, you will probably find the above rewarding. You may also find it mildly disturbing.
In case you missed it while exploraturbating the above, you may also enjoy the (free as in both speech and beer) Twine system for creating such games yourself.
Lately it feels like reality is gradually unhinging. Events have a kind of fictional or surreal quality. The shenanigans of Rob Ford, soon to be ex-mayor of Toronto. Anadarko trying to drill for deep sea oil off the coast of clean-green-new-zealand. The ongoing persecution of increasing numbers of whistle-blowers and protesters by both the former first and second worlds, co-incident with both USAmerica’s and Russia’s backward slides to cold war paranoia, secrecy and dogmatic ideologies (but with both seemingly adopting an amalgam of both poles) The National party selling off NZ’s public assets like they’re going out of style. And smaller scale horror stories and bizarrities in the news every day. And what’s going on with me and with my friends?
I don’t know whether a web petition does any good but at least this is raising some awareness. You may remember the case where a couple in USAmerica were convicted of beating and starving (and freezing) their adopted daughter to death while following the “advice” of a book called “To Train Up a Child” by Michael and Debi Pearl. For details of the barbaric practices this book advocates, see here, for example. Trigger Warning: child abuse/torture descriptions.
This and a couple of other books along the same lines are available at Amazon.com. Indeed, “To Train Up A Child” is also available in eBook format for Kindle. I see no literary or historical merit in these books. I see the potential for too many confused “parents” to use these kinds of books for both inspiration and justification for their abuse. I would like Amazon and Barnes & Noble to stop selling them.
Trailer, on The Guardian, for the coming film “The High Cost of Cheap Gas”. The trailer focuses on the potential damage an emerging fracking industry could cause in Africa once it ramps up, given that even in a developed country such as the US, it has caused such damage. I dread to think.
I concur. More yonic architecture, and less phallic, can only be a good thing. And a football stadium of all things. How deliciously literate.
I trust that even those of my friends and relatives who regularly cook and eat the flesh of dead animals will understand my cold fury and bitter sadness at this story: US TV presenter blasted over smiling photo with lion she ‘stalked and killed’ (-> NZ Herald). More exactly, I’m glad she has received a great deal of negative criticism and it is her actions which raise my ire. I hope she gets eaten by a lion, bear or alligator, and soon. Whether or not it’d be justice, it’d certainly be fair. I hope, dear reader, you will forgive me this lapse in my stated position of non-violence.
It was the central paradox of human behaviour and, by direct correlation, all of human history. Each time humanity achieved a peak, it seemed that some pathological instinct moved it immediately to seek an abyss into which to hurl itself. Shortly after the human walked erect and organised himself into tribal groups, he hit upon the concept of warfare. Simultaneously with the discovery of fission energy, humanity began to contemplate nuclear planetary annihilation. The discovery of the Mahler drive took the species to the stars, but once it was there, it courted extinction by engaging in the disastrous Thousand Years War with the Draan Hives.
Thus it was, in the supposedly divine moment when human metaphysics freed the core psyche from the limitations of the corporeal organism, humans developed almost insurmountable problems regarding the exact nature of reality.
-Pressdra Vishnaria, “The Human Comedy, Volume 14: The Damaged Perception”
When searching for a nutshell summation of humanity in its final days, we really have to look no farther than the writings of Vendocine: “As usual, man was busily entangling himself in his ambiguities. This time, however, he tripped, fell, and cracked his head.”
-Pressdra Vishnaria, “The Human Comedy, Volume 15: You’re Dead and I’m Not”
-Mick Farren, “Last Stand of the DNA Cowboys, The” (->Amazon)
Yesterday morning I was picking up rubbish at the park. I was feeling fairly positive until I found this discarded can of mass produced artificial smell for women(?) and read what was printed on the side:
The world needs this. A scent so happy, it makes people smile, and radiates optimism. It’s sparkling, mood-elevating fun, so deliciously cheerful, it gives men[sic] hope. Spray it anywhere, anytime, and inspire someone today.
Then my faith in the human race deflated like a balloon sucked through a jet engine. Possibly ironically.
Friday night / Saturday morning I dreamed I was having a serious conversation with a particular friend. I don’t remember anything about the conversation or even if there were words, but the action in the dream was all perfectly realistic. We started the conversation standing in the living room and walked out to the garden. That’s.. about all I remember of that one.
Last night I dreamed I was sending four soldiers on some kind of mission. They were ordered to assemble and don their gas masks, then we packed them all into a perspex box (two by two) and shot it out of the submarine/spaceship. We did it twice. The first time they were all gung-ho and professional, and I think that was a practice run. The second time the two men were grey, quiet and tense (I don’t remember much about them), one of the women was terrified, the other was also worried but more about her gear failing. In my dream I have the feeling that worry was justified as her gear did indeed fail and drown/asphyxiate her in transit.
I also remember being ordered to assemble my own gas mask and the whole procedure was very.. choreographed, like some bureaucrat’s idea of procedure and regimentation. I woke up thinking about gas masks. About gas attacks on the battle field in WWI. About handing out gas masks to civilians in WWII.
And then I listened to the news and a 21 year old girl killed herself and put 5 friends in hospital by fleeing from a police checkpoint and crashing into a tree (a story I’ve heard, with minor variations, about once every month or so, for years), and Sri Lanka remains in denial and unrepentant about killing Tamil civilians. Also a sex educator reiterated what we ought to have learned from this Roast Busters thing and what anti-rape activists have been saying over and over: sex education at schools is generally ignoring the important areas of consent and personal boundaries, with the result that boys (mostly) are learning the wrong things from online porn.