Mysteries of the OrganismYou may shout in the vacuum of space and hear no echo; fear no reprisal for your words; expect no criticism at all. The universe has no room for an ego.
I heard a report early on in the invasion of Iraq about how during attacks the boys in the armoured tanks played heavy metal through the vehicle’s computer (no doubt running on some military grade version of Windows), jacked into the killing machine; cyberkids in a science fiction war complete with soundtrack of your choice.
The moon’s gravitational pull, relatively weak as it is, may interfere with synaptic communication; planets and constellations may align to foretell your future; comets may roar parabolic or shatter on the face of Jupiter
But it will all take place in absolute silence; a mute drama on the grandest of scales; a silent movie without accompanying pianist.
They tell me that space is not a true vacuum, for a true vacuum contains absolutely no matter. I presume that if a vacuum contains no matter then it contains no light; that this is what a black hole is - an absolute vacuum? Perhaps my understanding is faulty, never mind, because space contains nothing that truly matters; nothing that can be contained within the black whole of the mind.
Theories and calculations may determine the velocity of our celestial path to oblivion, in ten billion years (or tomorrow morning). The probabilities may add up to zero, but it does not matter, we are not in control of the forces of the universe.
Their silence is testament to that.
We have enough to concern ourselves with from within our atmosphere; within our babbling little bubble.
Wind and rain; volcanos; earthquakes; tsunami; floods and drought; political idiocy; the American empire; the continual rape of Africa; the looming Chinese market; corporate war the end of oil. It’s enough to keep you up at night.
It seems that we are powerless and alone; there is little we can do - not everybody is able to hit the streets in protest or raise their voice loud enough to be heard - few of us would know where to start or what to say; most of us are just getting by; keeping our heads above water - many of us do not have the luxury of dissent.
Perhaps we who do should concentrate on what goes on around us; take back control of our personal space; the only thing we can call our own.
We have focussed too long on that pension plan; the housing market; Wall Street - those economic projections by financial astrologers; that old hard sell that levels its wolf-eye at your fear; emotional blackmail with insurance papers signed in the blood of your children's future; governments of lawyers and accountants with tax break bribes, empty heads and emptier hearts; billionaire faith healers with 0800 smiles; engineering futurists planning our evacuation to Mars or somewhere similar; managers; managers and more managers; customer service managers; public relations managers; health and safety conmen; spin doctors; sports philosophers and prozac evangelists; extremist pacifists and little boy soldiers with playstation reflexes.
Time to take back space – the space around your own heart and in your own head that knows that modern life is a big lie.
Time to stop listening to people who talk about the weather and wish they had a bigger car, a bigger house, bigger lips, breasts or penis.
Time to stop appeasing our conscience with band aid charity and middle class awareness.
Time for independant thought.
Time for thought.
Time to question what you're told; question the hand-me-down facts quoted by the spineless media.
Time to be angry.
Time to be sad.
Time to downsize your world.
Time to upsize your expectations.
Time for hope.
Time to realise that you can change the world – say something that doesn't agree with conventional wisdom or religious dogma; say something you haven't heard elsewhere; say what's in you heart; that which does not require statistical analysis to know it is right.
Time to stop being afraid of the wolf at the door.
Time to activate your viral self.
Even if you infect just one person with that something a little different; that bit of you that is not like anybody else.
That spark.
Language is a virus from outer space
Change is a cure from inner space.
I heard a report early on in the invasion of Iraq about how during attacks the boys in the armoured tanks played heavy metal through the vehicle’s computer (no doubt running on some military grade version of Windows), jacked into the killing machine; cyberkids in a science fiction war complete with soundtrack of your choice.
The moon’s gravitational pull, relatively weak as it is, may interfere with synaptic communication; planets and constellations may align to foretell your future; comets may roar parabolic or shatter on the face of Jupiter
But it will all take place in absolute silence; a mute drama on the grandest of scales; a silent movie without accompanying pianist.
They tell me that space is not a true vacuum, for a true vacuum contains absolutely no matter. I presume that if a vacuum contains no matter then it contains no light; that this is what a black hole is - an absolute vacuum? Perhaps my understanding is faulty, never mind, because space contains nothing that truly matters; nothing that can be contained within the black whole of the mind.
Theories and calculations may determine the velocity of our celestial path to oblivion, in ten billion years (or tomorrow morning). The probabilities may add up to zero, but it does not matter, we are not in control of the forces of the universe.
Their silence is testament to that.
We have enough to concern ourselves with from within our atmosphere; within our babbling little bubble.
Wind and rain; volcanos; earthquakes; tsunami; floods and drought; political idiocy; the American empire; the continual rape of Africa; the looming Chinese market; corporate war the end of oil. It’s enough to keep you up at night.
It seems that we are powerless and alone; there is little we can do - not everybody is able to hit the streets in protest or raise their voice loud enough to be heard - few of us would know where to start or what to say; most of us are just getting by; keeping our heads above water - many of us do not have the luxury of dissent.
Perhaps we who do should concentrate on what goes on around us; take back control of our personal space; the only thing we can call our own.
We have focussed too long on that pension plan; the housing market; Wall Street - those economic projections by financial astrologers; that old hard sell that levels its wolf-eye at your fear; emotional blackmail with insurance papers signed in the blood of your children's future; governments of lawyers and accountants with tax break bribes, empty heads and emptier hearts; billionaire faith healers with 0800 smiles; engineering futurists planning our evacuation to Mars or somewhere similar; managers; managers and more managers; customer service managers; public relations managers; health and safety conmen; spin doctors; sports philosophers and prozac evangelists; extremist pacifists and little boy soldiers with playstation reflexes.
Time to take back space – the space around your own heart and in your own head that knows that modern life is a big lie.
Time to stop listening to people who talk about the weather and wish they had a bigger car, a bigger house, bigger lips, breasts or penis.
Time to stop appeasing our conscience with band aid charity and middle class awareness.
Time for independant thought.
Time for thought.
Time to question what you're told; question the hand-me-down facts quoted by the spineless media.
Time to be angry.
Time to be sad.
Time to downsize your world.
Time to upsize your expectations.
Time for hope.
Time to realise that you can change the world – say something that doesn't agree with conventional wisdom or religious dogma; say something you haven't heard elsewhere; say what's in you heart; that which does not require statistical analysis to know it is right.
Time to stop being afraid of the wolf at the door.
Time to activate your viral self.
Even if you infect just one person with that something a little different; that bit of you that is not like anybody else.
That spark.
Language is a virus from outer space
Change is a cure from inner space.
3 comments:
o pisces what wonderfull words made into a ever changeing ryme you wake me up in ways i had thought where gone thanks and bless you yes it is time for major changes and less worry .Be safe walk in peace allways
Sonshine
I'm with you on the activation of our viral selves.
I've been infected. Is there a cure? Be safe and enjoy a piece always.
INFIDEL
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