A HUMANE END to VILE DEMOCRACY:

I will never support the Institution of Voting. Some would have the tenacity to say that if I do not vote my voice won’t matter. The reality of it is this: that my voice MATTERS, so I won’t have it drowned out in a mob of brainless zombies.

I love my fate, but I cannot condone it in good faith. All my life I have been outvoted, and I’ve watched the people who spited me fail. Sometimes, even Death would result. And I would be blamed as the dissenter, even AFTER my Power was stolen from me by a crowd of parasites.

It has all so occurred to me that the most Parasitic of this Lot tend to be the ones who lead the pack. They PRETEND to represent the Group, but in fact they simply ENABLE the Group and REPRESENT themselves. They achieve this only by ENABLING the individual MEMBERS of that group to surrender their conscience and accountability, asserting their self-interest over an oppressed Minority, hiding their OWN Minority and Individuality in the brainless mass. Sometimes, the “Group” that forms – otherwise known as a Mob – engages in a meaningless and seemingly endless war with an other Group. Overall, this habit is referred to as “voting”. It is a fluke of evolution, arising out of the tribal midbrain and bypassing the Rational Neo Cortex.

An empath can never condone this practice, except where a Unanimous Vote is necessary for action to be implemented. Any thing less would be Animalistic Behaviour under the mere GUISE of Civility. The condition of being outvoted is unbearable when one is IN THE RIGHT, and the entire Institution of INDIVIDUAL RIGHTS is meant to PRESERVE the POWER of the Elite Minority that seems invariably to arise in the midst of any barbaric Group.

The evil is aggravated by the sheer number of the majority, which draws its power NOT from Reason or Empathy but from its very SOURCE of evil: the number. Let this not be mistaken for a tautology. It is simply an irony. There is nothing here to be “proven” that is not all ready self-evident to any one who has suffered marginalization and forceful oppression by a Group.

It is not uncommon for Voters (as a Personality Type, in the same fashion as Sadism or Borderline are Personality Types) to make reference to some Scapegoat. If it is not a perceived minority, such as the Jews, it is an even smaller one, at times even an Individual, such as Adolf Hitler. By projecting Evil upon ONE man, every Voter dispossesses himself of his OWN PERSONAL evil. An individual may harbour individual shortcomings, such as malice or cruelty, but unfortunately he may be UNAWARE of them because, as a member of the GROUP, he is UNAWARE OF HIS OWN INDIVIDUALITY. So he can never take RESPONSIBILITY for his own shortcomings, and if he cannot join in others in condemning the Average Kike or Nigger, for instance, then he must one-up the Average Bigot by condemning an even GREATER Bigot: Adolf Hitler.

The irony is that Hitler pedestalized the Jews as much as he was himself put on a pedestal. Nazism runs on the notion that there is ALL READY AN ELITE MINORITY IN PLACE (such as the Jewish Bankers) but that this is somehow A BAD THING. So the People, led by an Everyman who KNOWS that he can lead a Majority, get together, and what do they do? THEY VOTE. And once the Man of the People (in this case: Hitler.) is voted into Office, he can use whatever means are necessary to SERVE THE PEOPLE. Only that is at the EXPENSE of a MINORITY who is now no longer COUNTED AS People. And while I ardently reserve the right to depersonalize any one that I choose, based on due cause, I will never defend the rights of a MOB to do so. A Mob has no rights. There is no “society”; there is only the Individual. What the PEOPLE WANT is invariably the projection of the Individual Psyche longing for Solidarity that DOES NOT EXIST, because it is founded upon self-interest and malice. What other name but MALICE can be ascribed to the man who claims that the Better Society has More Happy People, and fewer Unhappy Ones? After all: the smaller the out-group that suffers, the greater the suffering. The Disgruntled Minority, when dispossessed of being the Elite Minority, is either exterminated or forced into a sort of prison where in they* are made to LOOK NORMAL so as to appease the Public and SUPPRESSED so as not to threaten the Collective Happiness. But it is needless to say that an EMPATH could never condone this, for Every Human Life Matters, regardless of whether one prefers to be Happy or Miserable. And if Misery loves Company, it is every bit as Social an Emotion as Happiness. If not even more so.

*Although “Minority” is singular, the members of this out-group are Plural, because they remain Individuals, and an “out-group” of this sort is all so a sort of “ungroup”.

Extraverted critics of Hitler, including the most Brilliant and Inspired, often make the same mistakes in analyzing his ascent to Power. They pretend, for instance, that Democracy has something “built into it” like a Computer Bug: (a certain Public Speaking professor I knew, who all so happened to be a programmer, used this analogy, albeit by allusion that I had to trace back to his techie roots by inference) that when the People do not Want Democracy, it fails. This is based on the presupposition, rightfully, that Democracy relies on What the People Want, even though this is of course Pure Abstraction, because only a highly gifted Psychic could speak for EVERY PERSON. (And this Psychic would have immediately to be put in Office, if not Upon the Throne, for he would draw his power from God and would be incorrigible so long as he is Powerful.  But this is simply archaic speculation.) The TRULY unpardonable Error, however, that any introverted troubleshooter would find in this particular line of code is this: that Democracy is somehow an END IN AND OF ITSELF. Six million Jews ostensibly die, but what makes their death a tragedy instead of a statistic, as Stalin would have put it? (mind you: Stalin was all so NOTORIOUSLY Extraverted; he even obligated his officers to play cards with him, under pain of Death.) The extravert does not, at least at this point, look at the Life of Every Individual Semite, Cripple and Romani, but rather at the sheer NUMBER of the deaths, which suggests that Society, which was supposed to provide the Greatest Good for the Greatest Number (Hitler’s Common Good) CLEARLY has failed, GIVEN THE STATISTICS. But why is this statistic not negligible, as it would be to Joseph Stalin? It is because we have a SCAPEGOAT: SOMEONE UPSET THE GODS. And it was Adolf Hitler, a lone German “psychopath” who SOMEHOW found the “bug” in Democracy. DEMOCRACY was our Lord and Saviour, but HITLER was the Anti-Christ who SOMEHOW MIRACULOUSLY turned the entire German Population into Jew-haters and LIED to them so he might KILL them. For what? Who knows. But he “slept like a baby”, knowing he had done What Was Right. And now WE know better…

This is of course a farce, but it is not exaggerated by any great margin. People blame Nietzsche, as well, an individualist and iconoclast who PRECEDES THE NAZIS. How do they manage to call NIETZSCHE a Nazi? Aside from Camus’ speculation on the topic, which was very soon after the War and prior to the Frenchman’s Untimely Death, (Long before he reached Socrates’ Age of Wisdom.) there is the desire to BLAME SOMEONE. Any one who knows any thing about German History knows that the Nazis were such insufferable parasites that they wanted to take total credit not ONLY for the works of Friedrich Nietzsche, but all so Hegel, Wagner, Goethe, and every great Genius who HAPPENED to be German. (To the Ignorant Exclusion of all Foreign Styles, even the Extreme Zen Sophistication of their Allies in the Far East.) Why was Nietzsche blamed? Aside from his ostensibly “Fascist” sister, who skewed his later works, apparently, in favour of the Reich, (if any man can find SENSE in the Modern Art Piece that is the Will to Power, much less an Ideology) there is the simple fact that Hitler Liked His Ideas, and Nietzsche died in 1900. He was the closest link, despite his notorious HATRED OF THE GERMAN HERD and LOVE FOR FOREIGN CULTURES (Most notably: the Greeks* and the East**).

*The Birth of Tragedy in the Spirit of Music.

**Thus Spoke Zarathustra.

Neither Nietzsche nor Hitler is reported as ever having personally killed anyone. In fact, Hitler was a Vegetarian. This has since become an Internet Meme to berate Vegetarians. But Vegetarianism is now and has all ways BEEN a private religious austerity. Any thing more done “in the name of” vegetarianism has been hypocritical. Had Hitler slaughtered six million people in the name of cows, he would have been a hypocrite. But he kept his private and his political life notoriously separate. To his credit.

The fact is: HITLER never SLAUGHTERED ANY one. HIS PEOPLE DID. All the damage that Adolf Hitler ever did he did as a MAN OF THE PEOPLE. Nietzsche PREDICTED the Third Reich under the growing THREAT of anti-semitism that was a problem on that entire Peninsula long before Hitler (or even Nietzsche) was borne. He did not PRESCRIBE it; he DESCRIBED it. And Hitler, in taking the Description as a Hopeful Omen, saw it as a chance to do what he most wanted: to Save Germany. And he EVEN took it a step further! He was not only Saving GERMANY. He was saving the German PEOPLE. And by so doing: the World.

Democracy fails not because someone triggers a latent “bug” in its otherwise PRISTINE programming. Democracy is not some sort of Achilles with a Heel. It is SMAUG with a MISSING SCALE.

Democracy does not HAVE a problem. It is not that we fail when DEMOCRACY DOES NOT SUCCEED. DEMOCRACY CANNOT succeed. Democracy is neither a noble end nor a humane means. It is BY ITS VERY NATURE Proto-Fascism. And Fascism is its only LOGICAL conclusion. A Holocaust Prisoner would know that just as well as would an officer of the Reich.

Ironically, of all intellectuals who could have SUMMED THIS UP before we had the OVERWHELMING EVIDENCE for it scientifically (from Jung to Kohlberg, up through contemporary psychiatric claims that people are “intrinsically racist, lazy and stupid”) was Friedrich Nietzsche:

"Vengeance will we use, and insult, against all who are not like us"—thus do the tarantula-hearts pledge themselves.

"And 'Will to Equality'—that itself shall henceforth be the name of virtue; and against all that hath power will we raise an outcry!"

Ye preachers of equality, the tyrant-frenzy of impotence crieth thus in you for "equality": your most secret tyrant-longings disguise themselves thus in virtue-words!

A Leader does not give the People What they Want. A Leader does not act out of what HE wants. And a Leader does not hide what HE wants under the guise of what The People Want, proudly. (Mind you: such leaders tend to be Extraverts. Hitler, the Vegetarian and Martyr of Germany, is customarily typed as an I.N.F.J, alongside Osama bin Laden and Gandhi.) A Leader does What is Right.

It is impossible to Be Right in a Group. Voting is pointless at best (as most cynics seem to believe) and dangerous at worst (as this relatively optimistic writer believes). The very notion of supporting an Appeal to the Populace is itself a Logical Fallacy. And Logic is no alien to Human Emotion. In FACT: the most Subtle and Evolved emotions can only be conveyed to lesser people via ABSTRACTION and REASONING. This comes with the territory for an Empath operating at the top of Kohlberg’s Moral Hierarchy. It may be unteachable (a word that for some suspicious political reason MicroSoft Word does  not recognize. But perhaps that only proves my point about unteachability.). Empaths understand the Universal Plane; SYMPATHY keeps us bound to the Lower Emotions of Greed, Lust, Malice, and the rest of the Sins, Deadly and otherwise Lethal.

If two wrongs do not make a Right, certainly do not a hundred of them, even if the People in the Right (your OTHER Right) are only a dozen. Any multiple of zero is still zero, as is any sum of zeros, and any Absolute Value. And any sum of negative numbers is still negative. Only by taking its Absolute Value can it be Positive, and that would require a total inversion of Right and Wrong. As for multiplication: the calculation would be reduced to Absurdity, for it would only be positive when there is an even number of numbers, and half the time it would be negative unless regularity were enforced. Zero cannot be the common denominator, and unfortunately any game of zero sum produces an Absolute Zero. And as it turns out: the common man is constantly in a Game of Zero Sum. Voting never works. It is, as was described by one philosopher, a “futile addition of zeroes”, motivated by “fear and laziness”. The premise of voting is at its very roots mob-rule. It is mediocrity. Why did we develop it? Because some thing in our early development saw an easy win. If every one is like me, theoretically, and there is a finite number of us, and we vote on every thing, then I will USUALLY win. The nature of a Majority should theoretically GUARANTEE that. If there are five of us, for instance, on an Island, THEORETICALLY each of us should win four out of five times, supposing only ONE man is outvoted each time. If it has to be TWO men that are outvoted, each of us would win three out of five times, and we’d still be MOSTLY happy MOST of the damn time*. But what happens when we vote on what to have for dinner? And since no one took CHARGE of how to gather Food, we have to vote for WHOM to eat for dinner. Now there are four of us. Supposing we vote then. Whereas before this there was a twenty percent chance of dying, now there is a twenty-FIVE percent chance! And then a THIRD! And then what? Well: you might imagine.

*Of course: an Empath, for instance, would never be Happy, except in a state of Unanimity, for love of the Minority.

We imagine the problem to be solved when there is a Larger Mass. But the problem only gets worse. The greater the group, the more oppressive the Potential Majority. On our Island, a man outvoted has to contend with only four other men. If, on the other hand, one were a Jew in Nazi Germany, or an African in Colonial North America, the odds would be by far more terrifying. And rest assured that to the same extent as you are oppressed when you are outvoted, the Man of the People rejoices. This is why even Benjamin Franklin defined democracy as “two wolves and a lamb trying to decide what’s for Dinner.”

I will never compromise my personal integrity for the Will of the People. The People, acting as One, are a Leviathan Beast composed only of self-interest and aggression. Only the Individual can be held responsible. Every inter-human conflict is between one man and an other man. Each man who sends an innocent man to the Gallows is personally responsible, but this guilt is hidden in the Crowd. There are no Decent Groups, and the measure of a Culture is in its Empowerment of the Individual. The conflict is never one of Man versus Group, except where a Mob operates, and may it be clear that this sort of Conflict I neither preclude by what follows nor condone (some, I know, will misread me as saying that there IS no mob but only the Individual can be Blamed for its shortcomings, and nothing could be a more egregious inversion of the values than that misreading). All conflicts are between Good and Evil, and only you can know, in SOLITUDE, what side you are on. Once you have chosen Goodness, Wisdom, and Selflessness, which does not preclude your own Rights to enjoyment of the same, every Vile Mob that promotes Evil, Ignorance, and Greed must be atomized into Individuals who have missed a step.

No one wins in a Democracy. The neat and even probabilities of the aforementioned Island are swiftly skewed in favour of an Oppressor and at the expense of the Oppressed. The Winner keeps on Winning, for only his popularity begins to matter, and he can ape any position and enjoy the recoil. The Truth is effaced, and the Empaths and Intellectuals are the first to be outvoted. This continues as the Mass grows stupid and weak without true Leadership. And all that participate suffer, if not from a loss of Life, then from a Loss of Character. Whatever World follows this one will punish those who, having learned to beat the System in their own favour, have floated, atop a pool of blood, froth, and sentiment, to the top.

Do not vote. Not because it’s pointless. But because it’s Wrong. Your True Voice has no Neighbour.

Dm.A.A.

THEATRICAL EXERCISE: MONOLOGUE.

This woman was surely psychotic. I mean: I can’t believe I even got off the PHONE with her, much less that I let her off the hook so easily. I must have been AFRAID to BLAME her. I mean, maybe it’s just that my parents never spoiled me like this, but what kind of Mother just PRESUMES that her own daughter is not some sort of sadistic, manipulative sociopath? Well, maybe I can’t speak from the same position of PRIVILEGE. But how do you call someone you do not even KNOW and tell him – WARMLY, at that – that there “never was a relationship”? What a bald-faced LIE. There WAS. There all ways IS. At all times. In all places. And the relationship HERE was totally PARASITIC. So what does she mean there never WAS one? THAT’S Kafkaesque. It’s like saying that every thing is not interconnected. But metaphysics aside, let’s look at the blatant facts: A relationship does not need to be romantic to be a relationship. And a romantic relationship does not require either the formalities nor the banalities in order to be Relevant. It can simply be expressed in Feelings. Feelings are Facts. As of the Twentieth Century at least, right? So how can she ACCUSE me of not only deluding MYSELF, but trying to do so to OTHERS as well? She has a DAUGHTER. She has a HUSBAND. And she tells ME – the innocent, twenty-six-year-old Virgin – that I SCARE people? Like I’m self-interested? Like *I’m* the one who’s self-entitled here? I’m sorry. I thought being SELF-ENTITLED has to come from a position of PRIVILEGE. “Wanting my share” is not Self-Entitlement; only the narcissists say that. You ever played BioShock? Read Rand? You get the idea, I’m sure. This is such bullshit. And besides: this girl was never CLEAR to me. This bitch of a Mother tells me that she “made it clear” that the friendship “was over” when she said she “wanted space”. First: NEEDED space seems like the proper translation. That was the IMPRESSION that I GOT, that I RECEIVED, that I WAS GIVEN. And besides that, honestly: you expect me to believe… well, let’s look at the term “space” first, in general. SPACE. That means: AMBIGUITY. When you give someone SPACE, there’s nothing fucking CLEAR about that. It’s the OPPOSITE! When you are WITH some one, you must be CLEAR. When you give someone SPACE, that’s saying: It’s UNCLEAR!! Right?? And you can’t be CLEAR when you break up with someone. There is nothing CLEAR about that. And was she CLEAR when she said that she never wanted to see me again? She WASN’T; she DIDN’T!! I mean how do these people EXPECT me just to KNOW. Just to INFER? Like: only a WEEK after she tells me that we’re going to be Friends Forever, and no matter what, and she does not “do awkward”, and I’m “all ways her People”, and I’m part of her “Soul Family”, only a WEEK goes by, all most five months after we MET, and now she tells me she needs SPACE and I’m supposed to TAKE THAT to mean that she NEVER WANTS TO SEE ME AGAIN? Only a delusional creep WOULD presume that! And you tell me that I was SUPPOSED to? Like I’m some delusional creep NOW because I DIDN’T? FUCK no. When you are WITH SOME ONE – in ANY sense, physical or emotional – you’re CLEAR. There is no CLARITY outside of that. There’s only the Jungle of Absurdity and Ambiguity. And you tell me to PRESUME the WORST about not only HER (whom you don’t blame one bit) but then MYSELF… and I am DOUBLY GUILTY for trying to NEGOTIATE here? No one DIED. It’s not DENIAL. It’s me wondering what the FUCK is going ON.

[Pause. Stop to smoke.]

And it’s not like she wasn’t hitting me up AFTER the fact any way. So she stood me up six times – seven, really. And that’s MY Fault for pressing on? Like she can LIE to me and cut me off completely and I’m supposed to PRESUME that she is LYING? You are CRAZY. This is NOT the straightforward, honest, JUST person I thought that I was getting to know. And honestly: you live with her. You should know better than to let her get AWAY with this bullshit. [He puffs.] I mean: [He coughs.] I mean… [He recovers.] I mean DAMN IT. Why is it OKAY for her to LIE to someone who was supposed to be an INDISPENSABLE FRIEND? HUH? I mean: [He tries the cigarette again, successfully.] I mean: A Restraining Order. Against Me. Christ. Who will you go to to TALK about this stuff now? Or did it never really matter to you? Was it all those theatre skills? Mixed with the psychoanalytic training, surely. And natural charisma. [He puffs again.] To think I was so docile. So loyal, like a dog. Despite ALL of my past experience with such people. Well: she SURELY meant for me to feel SECURE in the first phase of abuse. Not so much in the second one. It’s just so blatant. But how does the Mom Not See It? Probably she taught her it. [He puffs again.] Why LIE to me? Why be afraid? Of ACCOUNTABILITY? Of living up to your own WORD? You don’t put thoughts in my HEAD, BITCH. You just DON’T. Don’t come into my House, re-ARRANGE things, and just LEAVE like that. [He smokes again. He coughs, but with finality. And resolve.]

Dm.A.A.

PUBLIC LETTER to A.S.F.:

I hope that you are content to know that Alanna is dead, of suicide.

This is what happens when you do not listen to me, even when I know better than you do.

I have spent the better part of three years trying to prevent this, sabotaged at every corner by INSUBORDINATION from my INFERIORS.

You have been one of these inferiors.

I WARNED you about the assailants, and I alone was aware of their depraved condition. I expected that the very FACT that I was operating alone would have compelled you more urgently to come to my aid and to eliminate this menace. Instead, you not only insulted me by doubting me (when I knew myself all ready to be in the Right, and had stressed this fact). You ENDANGERED HER by disobeying me. Like the fetus that lived for some short and hopeful time inside your former girlfriend, Alanna died at your hands.

The assailant was an individual who had done direct harm to me by interrupting my correspondence with this woman. I am beyond the point that I might hold so petty a grudge that I would blame the Dead. I only regret that the blameworthy remain amidst the Living. Their remainder continues to be a threat to Life.

You did nothing to demonstrate your Loyalty to me against this breach of Loyalty on the assailant’s part.

You have behaved not as a Human Being would, but as a parasitic narcissist. The convictions of even a close friend who had come to your aid previously (when no one else would) were insufficient to you, even in the face of mortal danger. You had only to rely upon your own observations. Regrettably, they were informed not by altruism but by self-interest. This self-interest I cannot be blamed for, accused of, nor even SUSPECTED of. Not one of you can hold a candle up to me in terms of loyalty and other virtue. You have only yourselves to blame for Her Death.

When you finally found corroboration for me, you did not even bother to express remorse for not having listened to me sooner. This letter is to inform the World that I no longer regard you as a Human Being. In my Microcosm, which is in no way different from the Macrocosm, for it is informed by Reason, you are a parasite, and I reject that as having any part in the Human Condition. Burn in Hell, Saul. And do not expect me to come to your aid.

Dm.A.A.

THE MOON and ANTARCTICA:

ADDITIONAL NOTES: 

"The Moon and Antarctica" is the title of the first Major Label Album released by MODEST MOUSE. Modest Mouse is led by Isaac Brock, whose Sun Sign is in Cancer, the Crab. Cancer is ruled by the MOON in Western Astrology.

VOILA; le rêve:

You know what I noticed about human beings? We just can’t handle change. There is just so much campaign funding that goes into either denying that Global Warming is happening, or doing something to prevent or slow the process. But how much funding is actually going into building boats and floatation devices?

I had a dream that Stranger Things had more than two seasons. This puzzled my Dreaming Mind, which, after all, has become so intimately linked to my Waking Mind that it is privy to certain Conscious Facts, such as the number of Active Seasons for the show Stranger Things. But now that I come to think of it: it makes sense that in a Dream that so closely (yet with unforeseen Optimism) parallels a Paranoid Conspiracy that there would be untapped veins of Unseen Footage, which given the nature of Virtual Reality one might explore on the Fifth Dimension. So it was that I became a Ghost, haunting the chief protagonists of the show, which by this point had come to include (perhaps to the exclusion of the main cast) my new “friends” from San Marcos, such as Nicole Fitzgerald and her cult. My sister, an avid fan of Stranger Things, was most probably a part of this new line-up, and by breaking a no-longer-existent fourth wall (a paradox that only an avid reader would fathom: how can one break what isn’t there?) she managed to reassure me, time and again, that not only was this Season Real, but so was I. The premise for this Season I was stuck in seems to be “I am an Illusion”, a song by Rob Thomas that has been on my mind ever since I discovered the true nature of my Relationship with Nicole, I.A.L. I could not manage to get the attention of my main “go-to guy”, a figure only mysterious to the degree that one asks what his Formal Role is rather than his Television Stereotype, which has become sort of redundant in this Fifth Season of Breaking Bad that I am watching with my relative T.V.-illiterate Mother, I.A.L. (Relative, of course, only to myself and my Binge-watching sister.)

I had no hesitation, upon discovering my newfound power in order to HAUNT Nicole and her friends. It turns out that my visibility comes and goes depending on various factors, including my will, the time, the place, and my proximity to the viewer. Needless to say (though I would do well to remind myself): my Mother’s recent discovery, I.A.L, that I am near-sighted was the basis for this symbol, and it is not impossible that one of the things it symbolizes is the near-sightedness itself.

As it turns out: the group that I was harassing was a Band of Vikings, the very source of both Nietzschean vanity and its corollary proto-Fascism in the Herd. So as Yang peaked yin began to form. I followed my friends through the Tundra, until I had gone so far North that I had to turn around and start heading South. The further North I went, the higher my altitude as well. I know now why: yesterday, at Home Goods, a place my Mother frequents though I had not known this (and I’d not been there in seven years, the last time having been there with her) I saw a Globe whose Water Colour was Black. I thought, facetiously: this must be some sort of Politically Correct Globe, not unlike that pretentious map that has North facing Downward and South facing up. Why was the map so pretentious? Perusing the Globe I discovered the cause: There is A LOT MORE LAND in the Northern Hemisphere. A man sitting at his desk with the overhead lamp shining on his Globe would be hard-pressed to get a good view of Europe, North America, Asia, nor MOST of Africa. Only a South American, Australian, or Antarctican (is that even a Thing? MicroSoft Word says no, apparently.) would find a use for such a Globe, unless the light were shining FROM the DESK ITSELF and THROUGH the GLOBE, which would have to be translucent. Naturally, this would be damaging to one’s eyes over a long period of time.

A map that’s upside-down would be equally poor, considering that such maps that are meant to be hung in Classrooms tend to have the Upper Hemisphere at the average student’s eye-level, whereas the Lower One tends to level more with the torso.

The Dream was witty in reminding me that as one goes North one all so goes UP, for there is more refuge from Sea Level there. Tell THAT, please, to our young and eager Liberals: that their Maps do little to help us PREPARE for rising water levels. Our academic friends seem to have presumed that Global Warming will just be “fixed” before we have to worry about that, or, better yet! that there will be someone to blame for it, who might be used as a Floatation Device (Perhaps a “Corporate Fat Cat”?). It’s like they say in contemporary Buddhism, I guess: the Map is Not The Territory.

The Vikings found me. It was inevitable, and I was a Fool to cling to the Security (cough, cough; sorry, but it’s snowing) of my South Node, which had become not unlike the “Nodes” in Hoven Gorge from the third Ratchet and Clank game. Prior to my departure South I left a message in the snow (with my finger, of course) for My Guy, hinting very clearly (and in a fashion reminiscent of BioShock, both in terms of intent, style, and degree of hamming) that it was I that was the Ghost that Haunted Fitz and Co.

It was not long after I had returned to my little Synthetic Hobbit-Hole that Vikings stormed my paradise, blasting the song “Jumalten Kaupunki”, because apparently in this interactive Virtual Reality series the characters can hear the Soundtrack.

Naturally, one wonders this: if my South Node is in Cancer, but that is ALL so my Midheaven, what am I to do? How can I leave Home and then Find it Again? What’s further South, in other words, than South?

Appropriately enough (to still appear ironical in an age of Rampant Irony) it was my parents that showed me the way. I found my Mother and Father walking in the snow beside some sort of rounded blue, tusk-shaped Obelisk: a reminder of Nicole’s Ungoing* Imperial Presence, and a reference to her spiel about Egyptian Mystics. I had to apologize, by force of conversation, to my Mother for my occasional suicidally suggestive asides, and she did not hesitate to reprimand me, however fleetingly, for the perceived threats of self-harm. Yet I was surprised to learn this: that when I told her that I wanted to go down as far South as possible, she had not counted that as suicidal.

*I meant to say “Ongoing”, but this typo amuses me.

My parents arranged for me to Take a Little Trip in my Low Rider down to the South Pole. My Father insisted, in that same conversation outside the Blue Horn, that it was not Cold Down There at all. Much as tends to be the case where Astrology is concerned I.A.L, I ignored what I was sure to have been some nonsense about the Earth’s Spin, settling for the less embarrassing conviction that my Scientific Knowledge (which I had come to regard as Mere Fact) had at some point been a relevant theory. This, of course, proves that my Dream was set in the Future, though when I arrived on my Surfboat* I found myself in Rapture. Even the quality of the water evoked BioShock, a dystopia set in the past. The sky evoked Courage the Cowardly Dog, most notably the episode where Courage and Muriel escape from Katz Island, and most particularly the SCENE when they have successfully done so aboard a Cruise Vessel. Somehow: the Dream suggests that my Dystopian Past is behind me, and my Utopian Future looms ahead. My Father had made it clear to me in that same conversation outside Blue Horn that the only truly COLD places are now the Mountain Peaks. Perhaps my Goat-like pursuit of Worldly Success (a reference blatantly to my Capricorn North Node, as well as my Fourth House) will only end me up where I began? If so, I look forward to a Warm New Beginning. Maybe I’ll even get LAID, for once!! Hahaha.

*How does Word recognize this word?

Dm.A.A.

A PUBLIC LETTER to A.R.:

I still have not received my books by mail.

I maintain that I want you nowhere near my house or family.

Do not call my home.

I know you have had time by now to accrue the necessary funds to mail me the novels that have been sitting in the back seat of your car.

May the record show that this debt precedes all others. Once I receive my books again our business is concluded. They were leant before any other debt was formalized, so they are a priority. No formal debts precede them. They are all so a very clear item insofar as they are my concrete possession with a personal history and a sentimental (not merely monetary) and intellectual value.

Any debts you imagine me to owe to you are illusory. Those debts were NEVER formalized. I agreed to them under pressure, at times even coercive. I was desperate to save a project that, despite never having been a source of either profit or status for me, and despite having been chiefly a platform for YOUR creative expression*, was dying owing to YOUR neglect. You made your apathy clear, so even if one were so naïve as to believe that you could not find the TIME to water the proverbial plant, and that all the more self-interested uses of your time (including card-playing) were supposed to benefit US by benefiting YOU, one must still conclude that YOU had no intent to benefit US, except on a whim.

*since my Chief Ambition all ways lay in Music and Theatre, as you were keen to point out when you treated me with unwarranted suspicion, imagining the Project to be “merely” a vessel for my Music, as though I needed the means towards that end and would trust you over myself in that regard, when you so clearly distrust me.

In the Future: spare no expense for those who are trying to help you. When you spare no expense, they feel an obligation towards you, and they work tirelessly in order to see the success of your enterprise, for fear that, through their own sloth, they might lead the Project to fail, so that not only THEIR time and energy, but YOURS, will have gone to waste.

Conversely: when you spare ANY expense, they feel as though they are no longer an inconvenience to you. They feel DISPENSABLE, UNNECESSARY, and at worst USED. If you are unwilling to provide for them, though able to, they imagine that they might as well Not Be There, for you have no intent to acknowledge their presence as a priority that you are willing to make a sacrifice for. They might as well not know you, and this archaic form of “rugged individualism”, far from making either party appear more “independent”, leads a Rational Man to the INEVITABLE conclusion that the Time and Energy that he has spent on you has all READY gone to waste, because the Project was never INTENDED to succeed. Your apathy evidences that, as do your accusations of ulterior motives, which make their way back to you against the backdrop of my spotless record of attendance and meeting deadlines. THANKFULLY: I can salvage the Learning that I gleaned from the Experience. REGRETABLY, I must conclude that my presence was only ever aimed at this motive: that you might narcissistically drain Time and Energy FROM me in a display of petty machismo. And I only allowed this to happen to me (yet again!) out of desperation to recover from the last two times that it had happened (which were certainly not the first).

Now: the books. Hand them over. I will not be stolen from any longer. And your ongoing tendency to harass me, either by phone or by other means, (which was, after all, the foundation for our relationship: your cyber-bullying in 2012) will only aggravate your guilt in stealing from me. May the record all so show that any violent impulse on my own part, towards you, was in retaliation, and I got no enjoyment out of it.

Dm.A.A.

A DELAYED RESPONSE:

I cannot tell you JUST HOW HAPPY I am right now.

The stalkers notwithstanding, I am confident that we will pull through. And that is all we need!

For once, I need not marginalize myself.

For once, I need not think of the Woman That I Love as the Unattainable Object.

I only have to see myself as YOU see me. And I am free then to see YOU as a PART of me. (Not some alien Object, which is how THEY want to portray you.)

You are never far from me.

I just finished an episode of BoJack Horseman with my dog. I am home alone, and all is well. For once in my life: these natural complications that Adults Undergo are no longer Absurdities.

I will be Happy now. And this is no longer an Abstract Hope for the Future, but a FELT PRESENCE.

I was up to the words “all is well” when your Mother called.

She is sweet. I can tell. But I still cannot settle for how you treated me.

I know you are not scared of me. Not really. But since you’ve at least managed to finally CALL me, even if you had to use your Mother to do it, I am at Peace. And I bid you a calm farewell, knowing there is nothing more that I need to do.

Someday it will be understood. Maybe it will be you that will explain it to me.

Honestly: only you can.

But until then: Farewell.

I forgive you.

Dm.A.A.

A Narcissistic God: (Part One.)

A Narcissistic God: (Part One.)

THE TICK:

Anthony is a failure both personally and professionally. When I try to maintain a professional relationship with him, he makes every thing personal. When I try to maintain a PERSONAL relationship with him, he makes every thing AWFUL.

I am made to listen to his marital and extramarital WOES for hours, to the point that I must give advice that I am made to bear the blame for when he follows it. It is not as though I am simply being held accountable for an Example that *I* set, whose moral merit is measured only by its applicability to All Rational Beings (a group that I have since excluded Anthony from). Yes: it HELPS if I speak from experience, because otherwise I am accused of Hypocrisy even BEFORE the fact. But I am converted, not for the first time in my life, into a sort of unpaid psychologist.

What does he care about my OWN woes? Nothing. The Love of my Life has died this year, and he has expressed neither remorse nor apology. I do not strongly doubt it that he even KNEW that she had past away long before I did. But to cover his own tracks (for he had refused to cooperate with my EVERY attempt to save her, though he has not hesitated to take credit for her own attempts to save herself*) he has remained “mysteriously” silent on the matter of her Death, a Fate that, to his knowledge, I had spent two years of my Life making it my singular purpose to prevent at any cost to Self or Other.

*the reason underlying this tendency in Anthony is a desire to IMPRESS me, but for better or for worse this passion has burnt to its own Destruction, for Apathy instead can dispossess me of the constant stress of being held accountable to me.

There is of course the matter of competition. Whenever I expend colossal energy in completing a project, he seems to delight in bringing it to waste, though he masks this delight in “righteous indignation.” (May the record show that, UNLIKE Aldous Huxley, I employ this term in quotation marks not as an attack upon the Emotion Itself, of course, but upon those who PRETEND towards it and abuse it, often both at once.) If we both agree to write a screenplay and I write the first four acts (Seventy Pages, to be precise about this case) in two days, I am not REWARDED for my drive and commitment, but ACCUSED of “taking over”. When I SHARE GRACIOUSLY with him my [DEEPLY personal and revealing] memoirs, which took weeks of research into my Karmic Past in order to compile, I am immediately expected to read a short poem that he wrote about his neurotic ex-girlfriend. Before I even check my e-mail, he calls my house phone, not simply DEMANDING that I read the inconsequential tripe he sent, but BERATING me for not having all ready done so!

Keep in mind: I WOULD have all ready done so had he honoured a previous arrangement that he would update my Inbox daily with progress reports about our Project. But without any formal notice he canceled this arrangement, yet still seems to feel ENTITLED to my attentiveness. He makes no hesitation to demonstrate his envy for both my punctuality and my prolific nature, for when he RANDOMLY produces a TINY piece of text, (without either Professional Import nor Personal Depth) eager to impress me for fear of the consequences of his own foolishness, he plays the part of David taking on Goliath, bewailing the “Injustice” of the fact that I EXPECT him to read my memoirs.

I do not expect him to read them. He made it clear that he does not believe in Reincarnation. He does not believe in Psychics. He does not seem even to believe in Karma. (Lucky for him.) And when I tell him that Nicole believes in all these things, he dismisses this as an other Female Tendency, which, by the nature of its being-Female, is negligible in Male Conversation.

At the root of it is of course a failure to take responsibility for one’s own actions. Did I DEMAND that he read my memoirs? No. So why does he ACCUSE me of demanding? It is HE that is DEMANDING that I read his poetry, and IN THEORY this is no great request next to my own, except that in REALITY his EXPECTATION that I do so requires not ONLY that I check my e-mail ROUTINELY, remaining available and dispensable* within TWENTY-FOUR HOURS of the post. I must all so put up, during the DURATION of this routine, with no information whatsoever MOST of the time, just for the HOPE that every once in a while I will be graced with the presence of a short ejaculation about his Traumatized Tinder Girlfriend. And why should that be so URGENT that it would take precedence over my other affairs? Clearly: because he craves my APPROVAL for FEAR that he will have to bite his own bullet when his habitually compulsive decision-making ruins all of his worldly plans. If Approval is “won” (by coercive harassment if necessary and by manipulation inevitably) early on, then he need take NO fall for the failure, for *I* will have condoned it!!

*This I shall expound upon below.

I mentioned being “dispensable”. As though all of the Above were not enough, there is the matter of Keeping an Appointment. Most people who are flaky will at least apologize and make an attempt to reschedule as a means of saving face. Anthony is one of two people I know who do not do this. He might schedule a meeting a week in advance, yet upon the day of the meeting I discover, after making SEVERAL phone calls, if Memory Serves, (for such Memories are either lost in Angst or Repressed in Trauma) that it is the day of his youngest brother’s birthday. Clearly, one of several things happened:

a.   He forgot his own brother’s birthday when he made those plans.

a.   He forgot he made those plans, but upon being reminded he did not care.

b.   He remembered having made those plans, but he still did not care enough to tell me.

b.   He deliberately made those plans to coincide with a day when he would have had the opportunity to flake. Because:

a.   He wanted an “easy out” free of accountability, should he come to prefer his family’s company to mine.

b.   He intended to stand me up, deliberately, just to spite me.

The List of Sins goes on. When he misses a deadline that he sets for himself, he takes his anger out on me. If I am kind to him, then he calls my masculinity into question, as well as my intentions, even though the worst of ulterior motives that he might produce as an accusation are in fact my DUTIES as a PRODUCER and COLLABORATOR, beyond which I never agreed to any other sort of sentimental attachment, but was of course coerced into it by force of illusory necessity. If I am UNKIND to him, he calls my Sanity into question, as well as his own Safety.

This is the man who threatens to crash the car under a highway bridge when he is “angered” by me. The anger is foretold by his dreams wherein he slaughters black people with machine guns. I appear within these dreams, as well. Naturally.

There is no in-between for Anthony. Either I am “too nice” or “dangerous”. His God neither protects the meek (except when it is him) or rewards the Bold (except when it is him behind the wheel). His God leaves it up to ANTHONY to house the meek rape victim who CONVENIENTLY happens to be a nymphomaniac girlfriend of his. His God puts ANTHONY in charge of sorting out Justice and assessing the distinction between TRUE masculinity and patriarchy, such as when Anthony calls my house repeatedly DEMANDING that I continue to house Micaiah, after I’ve all ready done so for the better part of a fortnight (two weeks) and Anthony, who has room for his nymphomaniac girlfriend, has no room to take in Micaiah for even one night. Is the inconvenience really his? Let’s not pretend that Anthony is not all ready sharing a bed with her. But at either rate, imagine the nerve he has to inconvenience ME. Some narcissist *I* must be to refuse!!

I’ve said there is no in-between with Anthony. Yet it is I that is made to look like the extremist. It is all ways, by his account, that *I* am too nice (falsely) or too dangerous (ridiculously). But this is only the measure of his own reaction to me. In truth, there is ALL ways a medium where I am concerned. I meet people halfway. They simply have to HOLD UP THEIR HALF. To Anthony’s mind, if he is running late and I bail to eat dinner, I am selfish. Never does it occur to him, apparently, that being PUNCTUAL is an end in and of itself, and failure to do so, no matter how grandiose the prospective rewards, takes precedence over the gamble. I am totally capable of remaining level-headed when all goes according to plan. If I MUST deal with insubordination, betrayal, and incompetence, then the very  nature of the SITUATION THAT HE HAS CREATED requires me to RESPOND, perhaps even to REACT. The simple act of HOLDING HIM ACCOUNTABLE is all ways, to Anthony’s mind, one of two extremes: a victory over me, or a loss. Either I am kind and he triumphs over me as the Aggressive Alpha Male, or I am unkind and he pretends towards meekness in Christianity.

And none of this is NEARLY as bad as Kresten Taylor.

THE TAPEWORM:

Most known parasites will drain your energy from OUTSIDE of you, but there are those rare breeds who* will eat you from the INSIDE.

*MicroSoft Word insists that I change “who” to “that”, but only because it does not recognize that some “people” are all so “breeds” of parasite.

Kresten Taylor leads a life perpetually lived at the expense of others. He perpetuates this by blaming his Hosts for their own “dependency” upon others, even when those same people who GRACIOUSLY Accommodate him despite his BLATANT narcissism do not themselves suffer from the same narcissism, but rather from BASIC HUMAN NEED.

Kresten is perpetually at war with the Other. Every victim that he has he turns into a victory. He claims emotions as though they were thrones. He has no ORDINARY human emotions, but only his envy and his boredom. The remaining emotions are mere acts used to sustain his lifestyle. And it all ways comes at the expense of others.

Tell me this, reader:

A young, virginal woman meets a young, virginal man in a Parking Garage at her University one Friday Night in February of 2015. They do not know one an other; he does not even attend her school. Within a month they are texting one an other about every thing imaginable. He has fallen in love.

Would a loving, just God not desire for them to consummate this love? Would He not render it mutual, that they might dispossess each other of their mutual celibacy? Is this not in fact the RATIONAL and SECULAR basis for the Christian Subversion of Premarital Sex, and if millennial college culture ever comes CLOSE to that Christian Ideal, would this not have been the best example?

As it turns out, such plans went awry. Because the young man all so had a parasitic “friend”, of five years, who was a drug addict. Sponsoring the parasite de facto, (for neither of them would dare to admit to it de jure) the virgin male invited his best friend to start a BAND with him. And knowing the love for Music that possesses the heart of his Light of Love, the virgin would not hesitate to invite her to their concert.

Within four days of meeting, Kresten Taylor and Alanna McLeod were witnessed by me, holding hands and strolling through my neighbourhood in rapture. Within the following month, they had sex five times. They all so took cocaine.

When I saw Alanna again, she was again a drug user, no longer a Virgin, and she was obsessed with a narcissist who had even neglected her on her own birthday. (For the record: I am sympathetic to birthdays. Hence I all ways plan my business meetings AROUND them, not DURING them.) His narcissistic tendencies had compelled her to dissolve their partnership, though it did not dispossess her of his influence. She insisted that she had no sexual attachment to him that he had stolen from me, even though I would have been more qualified to accommodate such a human attachment. In fact: she was now ASEXUAL, in part, of course (though I would come only later to deduce this, not having known the entire extent of their drug habits) owing to vasoconstriction from Cocaine use. The other part was the fact that she never reached orgasm under his supervision.

She was all so suicidal again. And unbeknownst to me: she blamed me for the break-up, though she struggled to admit it in any thing more than passive aggressive hints. This was because Kresten, claiming to feel GUILTY towards me, chose to cope with his guilt by IGNORING her, routinely. There is apparently no FUN in spending time with your cheap fuck* when you have to feel GUILTY about it. Ironically, he managed to aggravate the CAUSE for guilt by abusing the person whom I loved most, to the point that her Narcissistic Abuse Syndrome, coupled with the RAPE (for that is what college girls usually call sex under the influence of the notorious “aphrodisiac” cocaine) had aggravated her Suicidal Ideations, and even Tendencies. By FEIGNING Guilt, he had driven a wedge between me and my Love, for he implied by so doing that I WANTED her to suffer, and that leading her to suffer was a service of atonement to me.

*Alanna would have blamed ME for calling her that, precluding the possibility that I was speaking on behalf of someone I knew personally who betrayed me during one of my sentimental lapses in judgment. This sentimentality will account for the contradiction of knowing him and being betrayed by him nonetheless.

Once I had proven to her that I in fact DID hold her interests as my own, that “guilt” had mysteriously run its course. No longer willing to atone, and pretending himself blameless, the Tapeworm adopted ANGER as his modus operandi. No longer justified in my anger, ostensibly, I justified his own anger in self-defense. So Spite became a throne that the Conqueror Worm seized. When presented with the opportunity to re-form the band, with Alanna as the Band Leader, (for this was her one TRUE Heart’s Ambition) knowing that he had the opportunity to atone with me, for I had set aside my pride in making this a possibility, he said, unforgettably: “Why do I owe YOU music?” Knowing that personal responsibility mattered to me, he did not hesitate to tell me that I have “no responsibility for [my]self”. I stammered, in text, to mention BLAMELESSNESS – that I had remained not only ACCOUNTABLE but BLAMELESS, for I had served Alanna with ardour, and any verbal abuse that she might have accrued from me was justified by her OWN disrespect towards me (and fell under her own Dictate of Telling her the Truth, even if it meant Hurting Her). It was KRESTEN who had PRETENDED towards Blamelessness when, even at this very moment, he BETRAYED BOTH ME AND HER for a SECOND TIME. Having been once betrayed by him, I had not only the power but the RESPONSIBILITY to hold him accountable to her Needs in the manner that I would have held MYSELF accountable, and that I did, within the limits of the station assigned to me. I held myself accountable to my side of the story: the ONLY side, the Victim’s Side, and I broke with the unwritten pact of Secrecy only AFTER I heard that HIS side of the story was already infecting the ears of my former friends. Yet my account was dismissed as though it were SLANDER! He FAILED to provide for Alanna’s needs, on my watch, and he owed it to the BOTH of us that he atone, for that was WHAT HER LIFE DEPENDED ON, and HE HAD ENDANGERED IT. Music was not what he owed to us. Music did not BELONG to him. Music simply accommodated him at the expense of other people. Music was God’s Nectar, and SHE NEEDED IT TO HEAL. So naturally I made no attempt to point all this out to him. Even defending myself became pointless to a sociopath who did not see the IMMINENT DANGER TO MY LOVE, and to HIS LOVER, as a sufficient motivator.

Alanna had no choice but to confess that she had sinned. But even in admitting to a love for me that she had kept hidden for an entire year, she could not bear to see me, for her guilt – her TRUE guilt – was too great. I could not cast doubt upon this guilt. I knew it. It had manifested in displays of aggression that amounted to more than the narcissistic apathy nor the pragmatic anger that Kresten displayed. She felt Bad. And I could feel it in her presence. In his presence, I felt nothing but my own disgust. Neither did she mirror any guilt of MINE. INSIDE, I felt blameless. It was outside of me that I felt pain. The only pain that ate away at me from WITHIN was the betrayal of the Tapeworm.

A year apart did little good for us. Alanna finally caved in. She followed Kresten’s suit. She tried to kill the guilt inside herself: to abort it, so to speak. But she could not do what he did. Because he never DID it. He never FELT guilt. Only she did. He made it look so easy. Just forgive yourself! Jesus forgives you. And if Dmytri does not pardon you, he is not Jesus! (As though pardon and forgiveness were one and the same. I forgave her by default. But I could never pretend she had not wronged.)

Anthony told me earlier this year that she was talking to Kresten again. She broke her promise to me. I thought little of it. I imagined that she had her reasons. But I had to know for certain. So I contacted her. Shortly thereafter she threatened to sue me for “stalking”. When I called her bluff, she called the cops on me. Even the officers found it quite laughable. They tried to hide it well. But I know cops. These guys saw through it. She once told me that she did not care that “people” (Kresten and Anthony) thought little of me since I did not have a job or car. Now, Officer So-and-so read to me her report. Apparently I was “stalking” her without either a vehicle or reported source of income. Of course: I had a job at the time. But I had hardly the funds to take the Coaster down to wherever she lived, an address that I never got, though Kresten Did. But maybe she omitted the detail about the job. I don’t recall. All I recall is how transparent (and psychotic an appeal to status) was her attempt to make me Look Bad. It was childish. Even child-like. She was just a child.

She died later that year. I found her GoFundMe account months after her suicide. It was operated by her Mother. No one had told me. What I DO remember is this: that Anthony went to a Poker Night, up in TEMECULA, with his former room-mate, Mike Johnston. Kresten was in attendance at this function. He was with his new girlfriend. So much for mourning the loss of his previous one. But then: perhaps it was this very same relationship that caused Alanna to spiral out in Suicidal Jealousy, for a second time in her life, and only after she had severed ties with all her old and loyal friends. Oddly enough, guilt did not cause Kresten to IGNORE his new belle in the manner that he treated his old one. He was actually SEEN with her, and most likely on a regular basis. Perhaps his only reason for even hooking UP with Alanna was to get back at me for the fact that, five years ago, I dated Alexandra. Back then, he had had a whole MONTH in which time to make his feelings known. He, Alexandra, and I hung out regularly after school. And before then, he had known her for a YEAR. But instead he told me he USED to have a crush on her. And having KNOWN that this was once the case, for I knew Ally well and she knew Kresten even better, I supposed that he tried to tell me he’d moved on.

He never moved on. When I came to him and Tony, after she broke up with me, asking for help, he was the first person to threaten to call the Police on me. And certainly not the last.

I ask you THIS, reader:

Does a Just God desire this to be my Fate?

Is it worth the loss of a CHILD?

Dm.A.A.