Guilt.
Fear.
Anger.
...meet the men that rule the world.
They are so deeply entrenched in our primordial DNA that we don't have much chance fighting them hand.to.hand. We don't stand a chance trying to reason with them. They are part and parcel of our early evolutionary iterations and cannot, unfortunately, just be convinced away, out of their cozy first.class cabins, just over from Fight and Flight.
Instead of bashing skulls with our troglodytic instincts, we must boldly craft internal alternatives, related to the original instincts only in their completely antonymical qualities.
Of all the natural world, humans are the Kings and Queens of the Pendulum Swing. We have contradicted ourselves in almost every way possible, thereby adding to (and not destroying, as so many fear) our species' complexity and consequent ability to adapt. It is time, while we have a chance, to Step Up and Save Ourselves, to willfully shape our evolutionary progress. We must, without any dependence on outside forces, learn to Hope where we have feared, to acknowledge Joy where we have before seen only anger, and to holyholy most important replace our hideborne guilt with openarmed and openminded Love.
These changes require us to be active in our species' progress.
They require us to take initiative, take the first step, take a second to look around with open eyes and say, "What we've been doing for the last aeon hasn't worked, has given us ulcers, and has made us suspicious of anything that has tried to help us. We need Something Else."
This new evolution demands that we look at our current path with an unflinching eye toward its past and future misery, that we look at the possibilities before us and are open to their opportunities, and that we effectively say, "Ah, what the hell? What's it gonna hurt to not be frightened and pissed off, for a change?"
We need to plunge headlong, with the determination of centuries of our forebears, directly into the path of Something Better.
All the evil in our world is based upon perceptions rooted in Guilt, Fear, and Anger. While our countries' powerful may still believe themselves bound by these invectives (and even President Obama is talking continued militarism), we here at the Low End have got the leeway to make our lives, our leaders, our loves...Different.
We are not bound by pretension and protocol.
We are bound only by our biological initiative to survive.
Guilt, Fear, and Anger are no longer tools we need.
They are antiquated.
Backward.
Obtuse.
We need Hope, Joy, and Love.
We need em like we need fresh air.
Like we need sunshine.
Like we need real food.
Like we need to Live.
Showing posts with label 'Merica. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 'Merica. Show all posts
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Truth and Power
(1/one)
Meet The Kid From Brooklyn.
While I strongly disagree with some of his obviously post-911, NYC propaganda-infected views, his balls-out take on the injustices in his world are fuckin beautiful.
These days, when we so obsessively obsess about politically correct speech, when we pretend so hard that we Really Do Care whether or not we hurt other people's feelings, it's a wonderful thing to see a guy so joyfully, fuckin gleefully! sink his teeth into so many fleshy flanks. Not because he's afraid (as so many evangelicals and propaganda anchors are), but because he does not shy away from the sight of what he sees as injustice. He does not hesitate, at least in this instance, to speak truth about power.*
...And he totally says "fuck" way more than I do.
Color me impressed.
(2/two)
Concerning Truth and Power:
While Speaking Truth to Power is incredibly important,
I believe it is even more imperative to Speak Truth About Power.
To wit,
Power already has a pretty good idea how corrupt and malicious it is. I mean, it can dance the Verbal Justify all it wants; at the end of the day, it knows that both Side Effects and Results of its blind pursuit of questionable priorities are Remarkably Shitty for whatever's on the sidelines of its goals. Speaking Truth to Power is only so effective when Power knows the story already and has decided it doesn't give a shit.
Speaking Truth About Power, on the other hand, is actually starting to have some positive effect again. There was a time in 'Merican history when muckraking was viewed as a valuable service to the public.
Muckrakers went where the vast hordes of the public could not;
they exposed injustices and indecencies to which the public might not otherwise be privy;
they saved a lot of fuckin lives, when it comes down to it, and should have statues and plaques and fawning Thank Yous plastered all over every town square left in the corporation-infested, rotting corpses of our country's once diversely wealthy towns.
However,
since the early 1970s, I would say,
since Watergate,
folks speaking Truth About Power have become just another form of entertainment. They have been manipulated into just another tool of the 'Merican School of Instigatory Mockery. It's another part of what is now the Same Old ('Merican) Story: the Big Guys have finally figured out that fighting the Little Guys head on, hand to hand, isn't very effective. There's way too many of us Little'uns, and, really, there's only so many of us they can kill before we go all Freaked Out Angry Mob on their asses and start marching to our local Wal-Marts and houses of corrupted Government with torches clenched in our vilified and vitriolic fists.
Y'know?
Big Guys found out, most obviously during the 1960s and early 70s, that the best way to fight us is to delegitimize us between and amongst ourselves.
Single us out and make us appear to be crackpots with no discernible grasp on Reality (another thing they've recreated for us).
Turn us into clowns.
Into fools.
Into entertainment.
It's a divisive device that's been working for the Rich and Powered since the foundation of this country. ...Well, it's worked for lots of empires, large and small, for milennia before our inception, but the U.S. really has polished it up, made it shiny and marketably legitimate.
Divide and Subjugate was the big tool used to keep 'Merican slavery in place for so goddamned long. It's what keeps wage slavery in place now.
It's the prybar between skin colors and political parties and religions and all the town-to-country regions of this vast tract of land.
It is the smoke screen between Us and the Truth.
It is what makes and keeps us poor.
It is what destroys our communities.
Our neighborhoods.
Our ways, our means of living.
Our food.
Our health.
Our lives and our children's lives.
And now,
we're catching on
and we're getting pissed off.
We're finally starting to realize how much we've been lied to.
We're dying of the things we were told would save us.
We are beginning to wonder if maybe there's something to some of those crazy doomsayers and old-wives' quacks.
We're maybe, hopefully beginning to remember that,
no matter how vociferously anyone claims to have the corner on Truth,
Truth is always found in the eyes.
It is found in the bones.
::: And where are the bones of Propaganda? :::
::: Where are its shifty eyes? :::
Instead of listening to the Experts, to the Majority, to the Scientists,
we must listen to each other.
Instead of telling the corporations that have invaded our countryside and our cities, instead of telling them how much their practices are hurting our communities,
we must tell each other how we and our communities are being hurt and
we must take action to protect ourselves.
In this age of demonization of anyone who would stand up to power, we are finally beginning to revalue the Muckraker.
We are remembering that the Muckraker is fighting for us.
That the Muckraker is one of us.
Is
us.
Speak Truth About Power
between ourselves, between each other.
Where we can do something about it.
On a scale we can manage.
Speak Truth where it will count.
Where it will truly matter.
Where it will make a real difference.
Meet The Kid From Brooklyn.
While I strongly disagree with some of his obviously post-911, NYC propaganda-infected views, his balls-out take on the injustices in his world are fuckin beautiful.
These days, when we so obsessively obsess about politically correct speech, when we pretend so hard that we Really Do Care whether or not we hurt other people's feelings, it's a wonderful thing to see a guy so joyfully, fuckin gleefully! sink his teeth into so many fleshy flanks. Not because he's afraid (as so many evangelicals and propaganda anchors are), but because he does not shy away from the sight of what he sees as injustice. He does not hesitate, at least in this instance, to speak truth about power.*
...And he totally says "fuck" way more than I do.
Color me impressed.
(2/two)
Concerning Truth and Power:
While Speaking Truth to Power is incredibly important,
I believe it is even more imperative to Speak Truth About Power.
To wit,
Power already has a pretty good idea how corrupt and malicious it is. I mean, it can dance the Verbal Justify all it wants; at the end of the day, it knows that both Side Effects and Results of its blind pursuit of questionable priorities are Remarkably Shitty for whatever's on the sidelines of its goals. Speaking Truth to Power is only so effective when Power knows the story already and has decided it doesn't give a shit.
Speaking Truth About Power, on the other hand, is actually starting to have some positive effect again. There was a time in 'Merican history when muckraking was viewed as a valuable service to the public.
Muckrakers went where the vast hordes of the public could not;
they exposed injustices and indecencies to which the public might not otherwise be privy;
they saved a lot of fuckin lives, when it comes down to it, and should have statues and plaques and fawning Thank Yous plastered all over every town square left in the corporation-infested, rotting corpses of our country's once diversely wealthy towns.
However,
since the early 1970s, I would say,
since Watergate,
folks speaking Truth About Power have become just another form of entertainment. They have been manipulated into just another tool of the 'Merican School of Instigatory Mockery. It's another part of what is now the Same Old ('Merican) Story: the Big Guys have finally figured out that fighting the Little Guys head on, hand to hand, isn't very effective. There's way too many of us Little'uns, and, really, there's only so many of us they can kill before we go all Freaked Out Angry Mob on their asses and start marching to our local Wal-Marts and houses of corrupted Government with torches clenched in our vilified and vitriolic fists.
Y'know?
Big Guys found out, most obviously during the 1960s and early 70s, that the best way to fight us is to delegitimize us between and amongst ourselves.
Single us out and make us appear to be crackpots with no discernible grasp on Reality (another thing they've recreated for us).
Turn us into clowns.
Into fools.
Into entertainment.
It's a divisive device that's been working for the Rich and Powered since the foundation of this country. ...Well, it's worked for lots of empires, large and small, for milennia before our inception, but the U.S. really has polished it up, made it shiny and marketably legitimate.
Divide and Subjugate was the big tool used to keep 'Merican slavery in place for so goddamned long. It's what keeps wage slavery in place now.
It's the prybar between skin colors and political parties and religions and all the town-to-country regions of this vast tract of land.
It is the smoke screen between Us and the Truth.
It is what makes and keeps us poor.
It is what destroys our communities.
Our neighborhoods.
Our ways, our means of living.
Our food.
Our health.
Our lives and our children's lives.
And now,
we're catching on
and we're getting pissed off.
We're finally starting to realize how much we've been lied to.
We're dying of the things we were told would save us.
We are beginning to wonder if maybe there's something to some of those crazy doomsayers and old-wives' quacks.
We're maybe, hopefully beginning to remember that,
no matter how vociferously anyone claims to have the corner on Truth,
Truth is always found in the eyes.
It is found in the bones.
::: And where are the bones of Propaganda? :::
::: Where are its shifty eyes? :::
Instead of listening to the Experts, to the Majority, to the Scientists,
we must listen to each other.
Instead of telling the corporations that have invaded our countryside and our cities, instead of telling them how much their practices are hurting our communities,
we must tell each other how we and our communities are being hurt and
we must take action to protect ourselves.
In this age of demonization of anyone who would stand up to power, we are finally beginning to revalue the Muckraker.
We are remembering that the Muckraker is fighting for us.
That the Muckraker is one of us.
Is
us.
Speak Truth About Power
between ourselves, between each other.
Where we can do something about it.
On a scale we can manage.
Speak Truth where it will count.
Where it will truly matter.
Where it will make a real difference.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Mindjyer Own Bizniss, Whitey.
Read this marvelous and disturbing article in The Guardian about Pakistan rejecting "America's War" on extremism.
Basically, the Pakistani parliament is asking that we put the brakes on this whole murderous-intent thing (a.k.a. our "War on Terror"), and that everybody calm the fuck down, set the missiles aside, and pull up a chair at the negotiating table. Pakistan is being/has been "bulldozed" (Rabbani) by the U.S. for the past 4 or 5 years and the Pakistani are, y'know, sick and tired of it.
Understandably.
Of course, the U.S. had a typically dismissive, supercilious, and hypocritical reaction.
So, check it out:
The Pakistani resolution stated that, "Dialogue must now be the highest priority, as a principal instrument of conflict management and resolution," and "the nation stands united against any incursions and invasions of the homeland, and calls upon the government to deal with it effectively."
Okay? Like, pretty similar stuff to our own constitutional and diplomatic ideals, right?
So, we agree, right?
Say to Pakistan, "Y'know, that's actually a really good idea,"...right?
Nope.
US officials said they considered it rhetoric for domestic consumption.
Fodder for the swine,
which is obviously how they look at not only the Pakistani, but at pretty much everyone else on the planet who's not rich, white (or at least high yella), and, y'know, Them.
Now, here's the funny part, according to the Guardian's endnotes
(not funnyhaha so much as funnygroaningandgnashingteeth):
Basically, the Pakistani parliament is asking that we put the brakes on this whole murderous-intent thing (a.k.a. our "War on Terror"), and that everybody calm the fuck down, set the missiles aside, and pull up a chair at the negotiating table. Pakistan is being/has been "bulldozed" (Rabbani) by the U.S. for the past 4 or 5 years and the Pakistani are, y'know, sick and tired of it.
Understandably.
Of course, the U.S. had a typically dismissive, supercilious, and hypocritical reaction.
So, check it out:
The Pakistani resolution stated that, "Dialogue must now be the highest priority, as a principal instrument of conflict management and resolution," and "the nation stands united against any incursions and invasions of the homeland, and calls upon the government to deal with it effectively."
Okay? Like, pretty similar stuff to our own constitutional and diplomatic ideals, right?
So, we agree, right?
Say to Pakistan, "Y'know, that's actually a really good idea,"...right?
Nope.
US officials said they considered it rhetoric for domestic consumption.
Fodder for the swine,
which is obviously how they look at not only the Pakistani, but at pretty much everyone else on the planet who's not rich, white (or at least high yella), and, y'know, Them.
Now, here's the funny part, according to the Guardian's endnotes
(not funnyhaha so much as funnygroaningandgnashingteeth):
Backstory
Pakistan's tribal territory, formally known as the Federally Administered Tribal Areas (Fata), is a legacy of the Raj, a 10,000 square mile sliver of territory that has become central to geopolitics and the homeland security of the US, Britain and Europe.
The laws of Pakistan do not extend to the tribal belt, which is run under its own punitive laws and tribal custom, a system developed by the British. Fierce customs mean that men all carry guns, and guests, including al-Qaida militants, must be protected.
Al-Qaida's leadership and thousands of Taliban escaped the US war in Afghanistan after September 11 2001 by slipping into the tribal area, which runs along the border.
Under a treaty with the tribes, the Pakistan army was not allowed to enter the Fata, but the accord broke in 2004 under US pressure calling for al-Qaida bases to be disrupted. This sparked a tribal insurrection and pushed the locals towards extremism, creating a Pakistani Taliban. Taliban militants killed hundreds of traditional leaders and now control most of the Fata, imposing a rough and ready Islamic law, though it is believed that most tribesmen remain moderate.
Yup.
Y'all better stand back if ywanna get a get a full view of that paleface ego.
Hey, Whitey?
Mind yer own bizniss and seriously:
Go The Fuck Home.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
High Winds of Frustration
(this is what happens when you ask me about the weather while I'm stirring hurricane frustration in my coffee:)
A little windy, incredibly humid, off&on rainydeluge.
During the blowover, it was so fuckin humid that our hardwood floors were damp.
Didn't realize it until I walked across and saw my footprints in dewdrops.
That was odd.
Otherwise, the weather is sniffin around the skirts of Autumn, and I am jittery with anticipation.
No one's really exhaled yet, watchin Ike and Josephine do their Atlantic buildup.
We've got another month of hurricane season left, y'know.
Got friends staying at the house until they've got power.
Gotta get back to town to start workin as soon as possible, but then
the conditions at home are often pretty unearable.
Weather gets like this, and the termites start swarming,
the palmetto bugs running,
the fleas and mosquitoes laying and hatching in diabolical droves.
Got no electricity, got no air conditioning, gotta leave the doors open...y'know?
There's only so many bugs that bug spray repels.
And without electricity, there's not even a fan runnin to break the turbid air.
Coy says most of the cooks and servers are back at work,
but that the utility folks (dishwashers and the like) were largely shipped out by the state,
and thus,
must wait for the state to ship them back in.
Our friend T is in a shelter in Memphis right now
(after bashfully declining our offer to stay out the storm with us).
He lives in a shelter here, regularly,
so had to leave town without any clothes or toiletries or anything after the shelter
locked down for the storm while he was still at work.
Y'know?
This is a guy who makes obvious what debaucherous losers most 'Merican people really are;
he doesn't drink or smoke, he works hard, he's kind as can be, and truly honorable.
But, he's also poor.
Thus, his few belongings are locked away while he is off working to better his situation.
After helping Coy haul home a truckload of perishable food from the evacuating restaurant,
T is packed onto a school bus for the evacuation, with no recourse.
At the shelter, apparently, he and most other folks are being given things like sauerkraut (& nothin else) for supper.
Yes, at least there's some kinda food available, but really...
We Can Do FAR Better Than That.
He's been calling Coy every day to check in, to make sure he'll still have a job when he gets back (not understanding, I believe, that Coy would sacrifice part of his own meager salary to keep our friend employed. Easy). T was surprised when we told him Mayor Nagin had reopened New Orleans. No one bothered to tell the people in the shelters there, even as late as 10 hours after the fact, with Memphis only 6 hours away by car. All those folks sittin caged and hungry and worried, not having any idea what's happening at home, and the people with access to that information refused to share it. I know why they did it. Y'know? People in power, however great or meager that power may be, are always always freaked the fuck out by the thought of their "charges" gettin riled. Like they're mindless reptilian hydrophobes. Like they're not real people who can and will behave honorably if given the information and the opportunity.
Dirty dirty dirty. Just fuckin dirty.
So, the weather here is lovely.
Nice break from the shinythick dog days right before the storm.
Tell you what, though:
you know how fuckin frustrated I get over injustices, especially against poor folks.
You know how tear.myself.apart Angry.
I am ever more so here.
The obviousness of rich vs. poor,
of corruption on a hundred thousand levels,
of overt racism in the most intricate patterns I have ever seen,
everything everything is so unbelievably unfuckinFAIR!
Especially for those who deserve a break of Fate.
But Here,
Here I have a chance to do something about it.
It might not be much, and it might be everything.
Y'know?
So, thanks for askin after us.
It's actually really cool to know other people in the world are keepin an eye on this magical place.
A little windy, incredibly humid, off&on rainydeluge.
During the blowover, it was so fuckin humid that our hardwood floors were damp.
Didn't realize it until I walked across and saw my footprints in dewdrops.
That was odd.
Otherwise, the weather is sniffin around the skirts of Autumn, and I am jittery with anticipation.
No one's really exhaled yet, watchin Ike and Josephine do their Atlantic buildup.
We've got another month of hurricane season left, y'know.
Got friends staying at the house until they've got power.
Gotta get back to town to start workin as soon as possible, but then
the conditions at home are often pretty unearable.
Weather gets like this, and the termites start swarming,
the palmetto bugs running,
the fleas and mosquitoes laying and hatching in diabolical droves.
Got no electricity, got no air conditioning, gotta leave the doors open...y'know?
There's only so many bugs that bug spray repels.
And without electricity, there's not even a fan runnin to break the turbid air.
Coy says most of the cooks and servers are back at work,
but that the utility folks (dishwashers and the like) were largely shipped out by the state,
and thus,
must wait for the state to ship them back in.
Our friend T is in a shelter in Memphis right now
(after bashfully declining our offer to stay out the storm with us).
He lives in a shelter here, regularly,
so had to leave town without any clothes or toiletries or anything after the shelter
locked down for the storm while he was still at work.
Y'know?
This is a guy who makes obvious what debaucherous losers most 'Merican people really are;
he doesn't drink or smoke, he works hard, he's kind as can be, and truly honorable.
But, he's also poor.
Thus, his few belongings are locked away while he is off working to better his situation.
After helping Coy haul home a truckload of perishable food from the evacuating restaurant,
T is packed onto a school bus for the evacuation, with no recourse.
At the shelter, apparently, he and most other folks are being given things like sauerkraut (& nothin else) for supper.
Yes, at least there's some kinda food available, but really...
We Can Do FAR Better Than That.
He's been calling Coy every day to check in, to make sure he'll still have a job when he gets back (not understanding, I believe, that Coy would sacrifice part of his own meager salary to keep our friend employed. Easy). T was surprised when we told him Mayor Nagin had reopened New Orleans. No one bothered to tell the people in the shelters there, even as late as 10 hours after the fact, with Memphis only 6 hours away by car. All those folks sittin caged and hungry and worried, not having any idea what's happening at home, and the people with access to that information refused to share it. I know why they did it. Y'know? People in power, however great or meager that power may be, are always always freaked the fuck out by the thought of their "charges" gettin riled. Like they're mindless reptilian hydrophobes. Like they're not real people who can and will behave honorably if given the information and the opportunity.
Dirty dirty dirty. Just fuckin dirty.
So, the weather here is lovely.
Nice break from the shinythick dog days right before the storm.
Tell you what, though:
you know how fuckin frustrated I get over injustices, especially against poor folks.
You know how tear.myself.apart Angry.
I am ever more so here.
The obviousness of rich vs. poor,
of corruption on a hundred thousand levels,
of overt racism in the most intricate patterns I have ever seen,
everything everything is so unbelievably unfuckinFAIR!
Especially for those who deserve a break of Fate.
But Here,
Here I have a chance to do something about it.
It might not be much, and it might be everything.
Y'know?
So, thanks for askin after us.
It's actually really cool to know other people in the world are keepin an eye on this magical place.
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