what was bliss has gone amiss

May 6, 2008

Where is God when the world is ablaze?  Why did the Devil discard his angelic grace?  Why are people always bound in some craze?  What ever happened to this forsaken place?  This sacred race with a human face.

In our hands, our furred, finned and feathered friends meet their ends.  We don’t think we need to make amends, but that all depends on current social trends indicating that before something breaks, it bends.

We don’t like to think a thought about more than we think we’ve got.  The memory is out there, but it looks like we all forgot that a lazy person can’t be taught.  If you can’t beat them.  Greet them, but don’t get caught.

Once I had a bunch of moral fibre (but it went through my system pretty quick)

November 7, 2007

I don’t know the first thing about seconds.  The truth of the matter is I like throwing Frisbees to myself.  I love the dignity of the parabola.  The golden equation, the sum.  Some is too much.  Chocolate smiles too sweet to smudge with a touch.  Lick it, lump it, like it.  When did fudge become a mistake to make?  I rub my eyes full of glittering flies.  Blue.  Electric.  Eclectic, almost like electric if you don’t pay attention.  I’d be surprised if most people’s attention could span a puddle. 

We’re getting Googlephrenic.  The idea of disgoogleplexia is heightened by infinity plus one.  The numbers never end.  There is nothing but empty space.

I wonder if they’ll ever have McDonald’s Restaurant theme parks for all the little chubby kids.  Eat your shorts for good, nutritional Christian values.  It’s not supposed to make scents, but it stinks no matter how you slice it.  I recommend using your hands and ripping, but that doesn’t always work out for some of the saucier things in life. 

What can you do about googlephrenia?  I don’t know, Google it.  The spinning wheel, karmic in nature, stops on a dollar.  Bits of a puzzle up the barkers sleeve.  Religion is so medieval.  Shit.  Think of something else.   You know what I meme? 

Know, no, I mean, now, how brown cow?  If they made chocolate milk, I’d be sucking those teats ’til the farmers came home.  I don’t want to offend Hindus.  I rather like the art.  Beautiful intricate colours.  I don’t know anything about famine, except for the guilt I feel from cheating on the thirty-hour version.  Fuckin’ charity, what is it these days?  A corporation under a different guise. 

Shit stinks.  I think that’s why we call it shit.  We say so many things smell like shit, but they don’t really all smell exactly like shit, not even all shit smells the same.  That would be weird.  What would the world be like if we spoke with our mouths, but ate with our bums?  The food court would be a lot uglier. 

What does crude mean to you?  What does rude have to do with crude, other than the price we pay?  I’m on a plane, wake up snickers, I have a sweet suite to suit all my wants, but none of my needs.  All these weeds.  How is cleanliness close to godliness?  Priorities ward back, beckon thee to reckon thee. 

A yahoo is a beast of burden, a human slave to horses.  Is this what you want?  Horses are fleet of foot.  We’d be too, if we stayed on all fours.  That would be strange, huh?  Quadrupeds, eating out of our asses.  At least there’d be some time when we weren’t talking out of them.  Too many people talk shit.  Not a bad breath statement.  I might have something to say about that, but I locked all the workers out of my olfactory.  Commie bastards.  None of them can play the drums worth a ruble. 

America is going down with their dollar and sense.  If life without a gun in my face means death, then death it is, ’cause you can’t control anyone or anything for long.  If I’m going down because of you, I’m taking you too.  Ya dig? 

I once had a nightmare about digging holes.  Each hole was assigned an numeric value, more like an algebraic equation.  The nightmarish was that no matter how many holes I dug, I couldn’t surpass a certain sum.  I woke up sweaty and terrified.  I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.  2001 was on TV.  I should give that movie another shot.  I was in a poor frame of mind.  I shouldn’t live with regret, but that would mean I’d have to forget.  What?  Not sure.  No matter how much I forget, it never changes the regret.  Some things are carved into bone. 

Once I had a whole bunch of moral fibre, but it went through my system pretty quick.  That’s the title.  That’s how things are named in these here parts.

Funny thing is I don’t know what’s mine and what belongs to someone else.  I don’t know if plagiarism applies to a memory without footnotes, end notes, ibids or et als.  We’re all crazy.  We can’t agree on cake.  I like the icing that gives you a cocaine like sugar high.  You know the icing in which you can crunch the granules of sugar.  Still mostly empty space.  Hard to picture.  Harder to imagine.

All apologies and a thousand more, but I’m still going to slam the door.  I don’t want to see you anymore.  You’re a whole other whore.  None of this real.  Nothing I feel.  The opposite of love is indifference and I am finally indifferent.  It doesn’t matter, because matter is mostly empty space, like an excuse.  No substance other than forgetting.  I’ve lost count of the leaves in the trees, but the planes are lining up ninety seconds apart on the skyway.  Nothing is forever, not even energy as we know it. 

The truth of the matter is that I like white chocolate cake with my name scrawled in sweet icing sugar.  I have a big belly.  So there we are…word count 856.  666+190.  I wonder what the six-hundredth and sixty-sixth word was?  I should’ve paid attention.  My attention span is a short toothpick bridge.  Everything is a joke, especially this, that and the other thing, like an algebraic equation for holes, the variables are yours to tell.

UN Security Council

September 7, 2007

The United Nations was established after the second world war as an organization of nations acting in unity to prevent future world wars and to attempt to establish a system of international law.  That’s not really a formal definition, but it sums it up all right!  The United Nations does not have any power other than that lent by it’s member nations.  The United Nations has no binding authority, it can only make suggestions to it’s member nations. 

However, the UN Security Council is a different story altogether.  Under the UN Charter, the Security Council has the authority to pass resolutions which member nations are obligated to obey.  The consequences of non-compliance to UN Security Council (UNSC) resolutions vary from economic sanctions to military intervention (invasion!).

There are fifteen seats on the UNSC – five permanent (China, Russia, France, UK & USA) & ten temporary seats (two year cycle).  It’s pretty simple to understand the logic of how the five permanent seats were assigned.  It was a cold war power play between the US and the Soviets.

The UN was established at the very onset of the Cold War.  The US, UK & France did not trust the Soviets.  The Soviets reciprocated with an equal dose of distrust.  China was in the midst of a civil war between the Nationalist Party (Chiang Kai-Shek) and the Communists (Mao Tse-Tung).  The Communists won the civil war in 1949, a few years after the Republic of China had been chosen as a permanent member of the UNSC, and so the seat was part of the booty.  I am sure Stalin was more than elated!

The point is – the five permanent seats were assigned in 1945/1946 based on conventional politics, which were flawed to begin with.  First of all, Britain and France were both bankrupt at the conclusion of the Second World War and should not be considered ‘International Powers’ in anything other than prestige.  Almost all of mainland Europe was in ruins.  There were millions of displaced peoples.  Two countries emerged as supreme military powers, each with their preferred system of economics and government.

I don’t think the UNSC with the power of the permanent five is truly representative of current international political conditions.  I don’t think there should be ANY permanent seats on the UNSC.  There should be 6 year terms for each seat, with 5 seats cycling every 3 years.

A Rambling Bit of Catharsis from the Diary of an Uncertified MadMan

September 1, 2007

Two black cats, one the Goddess of Wisdom & the other an abandoned Princess; Sofia & Yasodhara (Sodhara, for short).  What do I know about wisdom or loss?  What do I know about suffering?  I don’t know anything other than that everyone suffers in their own right and everyone carries a self-contained bit of wisdom, something passed from parent to child eternal.  You can learn alot about people through their suffering.  You can learn everything about people through how they suffer.  The root of suffering is desire.  The end of desire is the end of suffering.  Yasodhara suffered for a man who brought this wisdom into the world.

Why do we make each other suffer?  I don’t understand.  My head hurts tonight.  An act of viciousness from thirteen years ago.  Seismic pressure in my skull, very sensitive to the touch.  It fucking kills.  Some bastard tried to kill me.  Couldn’t, not me.  On nights like tonight, I kind of wish he did.  What act of desire brought me this suffering?  What lessons can I learn from this pain?  I don’t know.  The only thing that really becomes evident is the distance between myself and everyone else.

We are alone with our deepest fears.  We can’t express something so intangible as that which terrorizes our spirits and souls.  There are no words for it, not in English anyway.  What am I running from?  The thing I need to get away from is right here and will always be right here.  There is no peace inside, not anymore.  It was disrupted one night thirteen years ago.  I am angry.  I am frustrated.  I am tired. 

I am growing misanthopic, but am full of love.  I can relate to children and animals and they to me.  I appreciate their purity, their raw innocence.  We teach them to possess.  We teach them to desire.  We teach them to suffer.  We teach them to make others suffer.  We teach them to make people like me.  Nothing to lose, nothing to gain.  All I want is for the headaches to go away.  They remind me…

What is the meaning of memory?  An odd thing, memory.  I don’t remember anything of that night after the first blow was struck.  I remember only what other people remembered and told me afterwards.  Eye-witnesses rarely agree when recalling events, especially stressful events.  I am several steps removed from my own experience.  I remember nothing of my own, other than a few brief and sporadic flashes, which don’t really have any substance. 

Our memories deceive us.  The world before your eyes is like a memory.  It is deceiving.  There is always more than you can see.  Sight is interpretative.  You are your world.  Your reality is you.  Almost nothing of what you see actually exists in any place other than your mind.  I live in a world where everyone is completely self-consumed.  What does that tell you about me?  I am introspective, bordering on self-consumption.  But I am looking for answers, enlightenment and am tearing myself to shreds for the sake of humanity!

For instance, the thing which people hate the most about other people is the thing they might hate most about themselves.  They wouldn’t be aware of the behaviour otherwise.

My problem is I don’t want to appear stupid, be stupid, or have anything related to stupid, but I’m stupid.  I work really hard at knowing things.  For what purpose?  I don’t know.  To not be stupid, I guess!  This is cathartic.  Everything is a piece to the puzzle of humanity.  Everything is worthwhile.  We are remarkable among animals.  The Universe would exist without us, but would it be understood?  There’s an age old philosophical question.

I’m alive for a reason.  What is it?  Pretty presumptuous for me to believe there’s a reason for me to be, but I do.  What can I do for the world, for humanity?  What can I do to make a difference?  I don’t know.  I am a little bit of an abnormality.  I believe in a God, but not religion.  I believe in order and justice, but not government.  I believe in people, but not the notion of nation, nationality or patriotism.

The root of evil is misunderstanding.  Why would God strike down the Tower of Babel?  A jealous, envious God?  Why would God scatter tongues and manufacture misunderstanding?  Strange myth, that one.  Anyways…

I don’t believe in the things we’ve manufactured to separate us from each other.  This is what I’ve learned from my mental separation.  But I can’t break those bonds.  I am still separate.  You are still apart from me.  We are not yet a Human Tribe.  I don’t believe it will ever happen.  We are in the peak of an avalanche.  There ain’t no stoppin’ now!  So I’m a little reclusive.  And most of the rest of you are blessedly oblivious.

Does any of it really matter?  I don’t know.  Maybe I’m blessedly oblivious as well.

The Silent Revolution (vote but don’t vote)

August 30, 2007

Ontario elections are coming up.  All right!  I love elections.  I find the shit-chucking very sophisticated, intelligent and classy.  Everyone demeans themselves in their efforts to demean everyone else.  Funny no one seems to stop and think about that. 

I think I finally understand why you can’t take the shit out of elections.  Essentially, the country does not undergo any dramatic change when power changes hands.  It’s always the same crap.  We learn about the previous government’s wrong-doings when the new one takes over & it becomes the built-in excuse for the new government to reneg on all of it’s grandiose campaign promises.  The faces may change, but the stink is always the same. 

Politicians assume we understand this process and make an effort to convince us that their competition will be much worse than themselves.  So when their eventual scandal is revealed, it won’t be as bad as it otherwise could’ve been.  Vote for me!

Screw it.  Waste of time.

I am a firm believer in voting.  I like voting.  Here’s my quandary: what if I don’t like any of the people I am supposed to vote for?  Am I supposed to settle of the least nefarious of the horde?  Do I leave it blank?  Do I destroy the ballot in an act of indignance?  I wonder.  What would happen if I experienced an uncharacteristic sense of generosity and voted for everyone?

In the Canada Elections Act, Paragraph 167(2)(a) says, “No person shall wilfully alter, deface or destroy a ballot.”  Okay.

Paragraph 489(3)(e) states “Every person is guilty of an offence who contravenes any of paragraphs 167(1)(a) to (d) (prohibited acts re ballots) or 167(2)(a) to (d) (prohibited acts re ballots or ballot box with intent to influence vote).  Uh oh!

Paragraph 500(5) contains the punishment – for summary conviction, a fine of not more than $2000 and/or a prison term of not more than a year.  Yikes!  And for a conviction on indictment, a fine of not more than $5000 and/or a prison term of not more than five years.

So…my guess is that it’s a punishable offence for me to vote for everyone, to write ‘Screw You’ or draw a happy face somewhere in the margin, or anything.  Thank goodness for paragraph 163 which plainly states “The vote is secret.”  Direct quote, no paraphrasing!

The vote is secret.  I can’t be caught.  I can do whatever I want, so long as I keep it to myself.  I can vote for everyone if I feel like it.  I’ll (maybe) start the revolution, but will (probably) be silent.  Vote for everyone, drop the ballot in the box and smile.

Don’t tell anyone about this!