KEEPING
UP WITH THE END TIMES.
Philosophy
is the mind’s antidote against manipulation.
Theology
serves as the same antidote, but for the SOUL.
INTRODUCTION:
THE BODIES OF MASSACRED TREES.
Every day nowadays I’ll wake up to the sound of the
most awful noise. It sounds like some beast from an other dimension moaning and
groaning: like a wheezing monster but electronic, wailing at irregular
intervals. Its voice colours what few dreams I can remember upon waking, and it
continues to follow me as I take my dog out on his mo(u)rning walk. And I know
what it is, as I witness the wreckage it has left in its wake:
It’s the Mexicans. To be specific: the ones who
wave abjectly at me, smiling feebly but with self-satisfied enthusiasm, as I
carry Pumpkin home in the heat. These are the “salt of the earth”, the
hard-working people that Donald Trump uses as his fencepost to hide behind the liberal
onslaught of criticism. You see: a rational businessman like Donald cannot be
troubled with such absurd superstitions such as “race” and “racism”, so to pacify
his aggressors he insists that he just absolutely LOVES Mexican Americans; he
just dislikes the few who are rapists and drug pushers.
Unfortunately for them, there is still ONE pale-faced
man who hates them in this neighbourhood. And that is me. But I hate them not
for the reasons ascribed to Donald Trump, reasons which cannot exist because
they are so insensible, and the only way that one can even make such an
accusation is to be possessed of the same neurosis, for what else then would “racist”
mean? What does “racist” constitute? I know not. It takes one to know one(, I
suppose).
No: my reasons are precisely those that the Donald uses
as his Trump Card (heh.): That they are HARD-WORKING AMERICANS. There was a
time that “working for the MAN” (In THIS generation, it’s easy to see who the “man”
is, considering both the notorious “1%” statistic and the fact that our President
of the Executive Branch is a Corporate Executive*) was deplored by the
community. The only reason that such a sentiment faded over the past fifty
years is that the counter-culture was so PASSIVE in all that it did. Only a few
radicals managed to preserve their memory in the collective mind of generation
after generation of L.S.D. consumers. Most of the sages of the Hippie
Generation were forgotten. Charles Reich wrote a book once on the three stages
in the development of the American Psyche: We began as rugged individualists,
became bureaucratic neo-Liberals in a Kafkaesque Corporate State, and finally
completed our metamorphosis at the turn of the nineteen-sixties.
So what went wrong? Did we relapse?
*Mussolini said that Fascism is properly described
as a merger of Corporate and State Power.
On the contrary: we came down from the high. Our
consciousness as a nation SPIKED during the nineteen-sixties, and ever since
then it has suffered a radical decline. We did not fall BACKWARDS into our old
ways, though our politicians still try to sell those ways unto us. (Bernie was
alone of all the candidates in 2016 to represent the Hippie Dream; Ms. Clinton
was a total personification of bureaucratic liberalism and Mr. Trump is of
course the rugged individualist who wants to bring us back to the OLD DAYS.) We
fell FORWARDS, from that precarious peak, into what I call the AGE OF
COMPLACENCY. Since the hippies allowed their children to do whatever they
wanted, (the expression “militant hippie” became an oxymoron) given that most
of those children probably never knew their fathers, the Corporate State
survived and learned to USE the very instruments of the counter-culture – drugs
and liberal rhetoric – to buy the loyalty of Generation X.
BUT WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH MEXICANS, YOU
MIGHT ASK?
Every day I hear self-righteous neo-liberals
championing the rights of human causes, be it Syrian or “Queer”. (one would do
well to remember that these two groups, left to their own devices, would
probably be irreconcilable; a tolerant* Syrian is a Syrian-American, and that
we are as eager to convert them both abroad and at home to Our Cause as THEY
are to enjoy Our Resources does not make us any less imperialistic and stupid.)
*Keep in mind that this is to the Syrians’ credit.
As G.K. Chesteron said: Tolerance is the virtue of a man without convictions.
BUT WHAT ABOUT HARAMBE??
CHAPTER
ONE: THE DEATH OF A GORILLA WARRIOR.
An ape was shot to death for the crime of being
EXACTLY WHERE HE NEEDED TO BE (where he was PUT, technically, for our Education
and our Entertainment: The ZOO.), which all so was the WRONG PLACE AT THE WRONG
TIME, all because of the human-centred PARANOIA of a trigger-happy Zookeeper.
I had to stifle my disgust as I walked through my
neighbourhood, a middle-class suburb that had become emaciated of its imported vegetation
(as though San Diego had not enough DESERT) and littered with the seemingly
bloody stumps of its gorgeous trees. As Treebeard had said: many of these trees
were my friends. I had climbed them, hidden behind them, given them names and
yes: hugged them. Don’t knock it until you try it.
And all the while I marveled at Saruman’s way with
words. For there was no RIOT or PROTEST in defense of our innocent cousin
Harambe. Our PRIDE in our HUMANITY had isolated ourselves successfully from
such creatures, to such a degree that we could even think to justify ourselves
against our captives in the self-defense of our children.
And I do not use “PRIDE” incidentally…
There was a friend of mine who had a cyst on his
brain which was ostensibly the result of having taken a bad vaccine. He had
grown up a social justice advocate, a minority of a minority in a society whose
principle [sic] concerns were the accommodation of gangsters and sexual
deviants. So when I received word from him about stopping the violence in
Florida, I only wondered: Was Harambe in Florida? Funny. I thought it was
Cincinatti.
But alas! Harambe had all ready been forgotten,
doomed to surface in later years as one of a number of gorilla memes. (Not to
be confused with “guerilla memes”, as in guerilla warfare.) For now the nation
had a tragedy that we could ALL agree upon: a considerable group of sodomites
were shot to death at a locale that they had all VOLUNTARILY chosen to frequent
with the intent of CELEBRATING AND PERPETUATING SODOMY.
This was not perpetrated by a proprietor of the
establishment. Nor were they kept captive there for OUR heterosexual amusement.
Though that would have been hot.
They were not attacking our infant children. Though
the argument can be made that they were part of a movement that, via a series
of Kafkaesque turns, supported the right for a woman to commit infanticide. (I
shall elaborate upon that later.)
Secretly my heart was happy. FINALLY: human beings
would pay for their vanity in how they treat non-humans. Perhaps THIS bold and
daring act of war upon the Emotivist Agenda (again: I’ll explain later; there
are only so many times I can digress and only so many tracks to any one mind) would
finally send a message. The message: LOOK WHAT WE HAVE BROUGHT UPON OURSELVES.
PRAISE HARAMBE, LORD OF THE APES!!
But alas. Truth was thwarted again.
Having had a crush on her for some time since I
heard a remix of her song with Lil Wayne, I decided to pay visit to the Google
replica of a certain R & B and pop singer. I found a post that decried the “evil”
of “some people”. And I only wondered, as any sensible person would: does she
mean to suggest that the shooters were evil? Or the homosexuals?
I never learned.
I suppose that it would seem barbaric to suggest
that I identify more with apes than with bears. After all: bears were the first
animal to be worshipped. But APES are quite probably our very own kin!
My defense is: who are you to claim the
assassination of an APE to be a matter of dispute, subject to the Ethic of
Ambiguity (PATIENCE: All shall be explained. Don’t you trust me?) in regards to
the trigger-puller, but the murder of a BEAR (and other homosexuals) as Absolute?
It all ways bugged me to see people who would seamlessly transition from Absolute
to Relative statements, in defiance of logic, but to the applause of their self-interested
and dim-witted peers. I would later find the words for such court fools and
their equally foolish audience: MANIPULATORS.
SOMEHOW the world had been duped to trivialize Harambe’s
death even MORE after the faggots were burned. And it became obvious to me
where the offense emanated from. It is the source of all offense, for it is at
the root of all neurotic egoism. That alone was attacked, not the intrinsic integrity
of life. And this attitude that was bruised has all ways been regarded as sin,
by all the world’s religions, for it was in fact in no way distinct from its
corollary, Shame:
PRIDE.
CHAPTER
TWO: WHAT THIS HAS TO DO WITH MEXICANS.
You might have all ready figured it out.
The context clues should have stuck out to your
eyes as though they were sticks jammed in through your sockets.
But perhaps the logs in your eyes make it hard to
see past the sawdust in mine.
I will dispense with the patronizing rhetorical
questions and cut to the chase:
The “hard-working” Mexican Americans who Donald
Trump praises to win over the Left are participating the brutal assassination
of trees: great spirits that have been made captive in the way that Harambe
was: for our human-centred amusement.
Neither neo-liberals nor neo-conservatives care
about this. Neo-conservatives would go so far as to lay ruin to the world’s
forests just as soon as we can artificially synthesize enough oxygen without
the help of the trees.
And the neo-liberals are probably going to be the
ones to fund this artificial synthesis, just as soon as they can lessen our
carbon dioxide emissions. See: they don’t want to give the plants some thing to
breathe EITHER.
(You’ll have to pardon me though as I return to my
pedantic ways:)
But WHY DO TREES REALLY MATTER?
There once lived a visual poet named Vincent van
Gogh. This painter was imprisoned for his visionary deviance at a sanitarium in
France, where he painted the painting that we now call Starry, Starry Night. When
asked about why the trees in the painting looked like monoliths in the Tomb of
King Ramses, Vince replied simply that one day the trees would reach the
heavens. He believed that all EARTHLY things have a teleological PURPOSE that
lends an INTRINSIC VALUE to their lives, justifying our maternal, nurturing
sympathies: and that is to reach the HEAVENS.
He was not alone in this sentiment.
As recently as in the nineteen-nineties A.D,
Britons organized to protest the barbaric murder of trees by corporations on
their continent. The footage can still be found on YouTube, under the guise of
various I.D.M. artists.
Not bad for a bunch of redcoats, eh?
Trees, to human beings, have all ways been more
than just the lungs of this planet. They were friends, lodgings, support
systems both physically and emotionally. As a Thou, rather than as an It, a
tree is like an other person. And a person is more than just a means to an end.
JUST FOR EXAMPLE:
But most importantly perhaps is that trees
REPRESENT some thing, even in the mode of Objectivity (as “Things”) as opposed
to Relationship (as People). And that is what van Gogh explained: The striving
for all EARTHLY things to reach the HEAVENS. Without this goal life becomes
meaningless, and therefore it is expendable, and the instinct to survive turns
in on its self under the weight of the civilized mind that notes the futility
of such survival even as a success. So the will to survive becomes either
suicidal self-destruction, misguided rage, or – worst of all – the seeds of
Fascism, whereby a group perpetuates its survival through a collective suicide
on the individual level, surrendering all individuality to the WILL OF THE
COLLECTIVE, a collective that is INCOMPLETE because it is at the EXPENSE of an
OUT-GROUP that is presumed (often rightly) to be fighting to perpetuate ITS
OWN survival-as-group.
TIMBER. How we’ve fallen…
Dm.A.A.
