Friday, 15 June 2012

An Uncertain Direction

Yeah, last night went out to watch a
friends band perform.  Really
well developed show, that one.

Ended up having a conversation
with a young lady about some
concepts of corporate activity, social
pressure and social transformation.
She has more information than me being as she
has been studying these things at the University
here in Calgary.  The debate centered around the
idea of whether one should choose to work
within the system for change or if it is better
to operate as an obvious opponent.

So...big, huge topic, right?

Personally, I find it hard to believe that the
most effective, interesting approach is to don
the suit and assist the systematically dehumanizing
and environmentally destructive system make cash
with the intention of eventually being able to alter their
practices is at all the best approach.

Seems to me that approach offers the individual
practicing it the sense that they are working towards
assisting the many, many millions being crushed
out of existence by systemic violence, media manipulation
and so on without having to take any actual personal risk.
You still have a job.
You can get a mortgage.
Line of credit, in are still a player
in the game of property, control, social manipulation
and feeding off the sweat of others.
You are socially acceptable in your thinking.

(Not wholly true or correct that last paragraph.  Help me
sort this idea out)

It seems to me that the system has designed itself to
swallow resistance in a number of ways.  We are provided
the right to peaceful assembly that allows the participants
to feel like they have used their voice.  An action that
may or may not feel personally rewarding but in the
public sphere it can be very easily distorted, by shifting the context,
misrepresenting the activists intentions or, most likely, ignoring it

Now, if one was to take employment with an enormous
corporate organization then one would have spend a good chunk of
time emulating the culture you've joined in order
to be trusted enough to really have a voice within the organization.
After that, if they don't like what you're after...regardless of the logic
of your argument or the quality of your intention (which in the case
of this particular young lady seemed to be the idea that profits and
appropriate community relationships could be balanced out
in a way that serves all individuals involved, a logical vision) they
can simply oust you using a variety of techniques.  I've seen this in
action already this year, a hardworking, driven lady I know was
subject to a Human Resources investigation following a
complaint she made regarding the behavior of some of her
co-workers.  She was quite clearly in the right and, yet, the
decision of the organization was to terminate her employment,
calling her difficult, claiming she rocked the boat and was over-
sensitive, this action causing a series of problems to manifest in her personal life.

Now, to represent accurately the organization didn't totally leave
her hanging, she received a small payout for her troubles but nothing
that accurately reflected the ringer they put her through.

It seems to me that the system has designed itself in
such a way that the only way to be an effective agent of
change is to become a criminal.

Not really.
Not in the heart.
Not because you are actually wrong.
But because their laws are making you into that.

One works on one's own mind and raises the question
of who are these, these parasitic creatures
that put themselves and their profits between us as human
in real-time.  Where do these ideologies come from?  Why do
I think the thoughts I think?  Why do I want a new car?  Why do
I feel slightly embarassed to have no savings whatsoever in
my early mid-thirties?  Why am I expected to put in hours of
my life to build up someone else's dream?  Why does my own mind
judge me for not believing in the cultural mythology?  How was
I trained to not trust my instincts and instead follow through on
the absolutely disinteresting and barely sustaining?
How was I convinced that I should accept some sort of
limited expression in order to be allowed to eat?
(And so on, please add more questions, the ones that you have gone through,
Communication is the key here...)

And you finds oneself caught in the center
of it all.  I have realized I do it to myself.  I have been
trained since the beginning to do it to myself.
I have been trained in right and wrongism.  I have been
trained in self-destructive self-doubt.  I have been taught
to disbelieve my own judgements.  I have been told to
disregard my instincts.
I have been told it for a long time.
And for a long time, I embraced it.

It still happens, everyday it happens.  Everyday, I have to
work from a center that some days I can barely find
in order to clear away the sickening, offensive onslaught
of other ideas that have been thrust upon me.

That suggest it is a type of duty to serve profits.
To serve a country.
To serve.
To be socially appropriate.
To enjoy responsibly.  Within clearly defined limitations.
To express through acceptable channels.

You like art?  Be a can help
us sell things.  You play music?...write jingles.
There is a place for you.  Accept this violence.

Digression...not really.  The point is this is
what has been done.  Now, think it through
(disagreement is welcome, please, offer me clear in progress always, everyday
a new day, I'd love to be wrong, those homes look comfortable
and driving fast cars is fun).

It does not make me believe that the people who are
deeply involved in keeping the machine grinding away
are particularly interested in either good community
relations or logic.  They may find the illusion of community
important to the masking of their goals.  They may find logic needs
to be adhered at the town meeting while carrying out their agenda in other

The more time I spend with these ideas, the more I believe that
humanity is under attack from its own creation.  We have let the idea
run wild and transform itself into a tool for spiritual murder.

There are laws about what you can do to your own mind.
There are inappropriate thoughts.
There are messages everywhere, streaming through our awareness
and changing us in subtle ways.  There is enforcement, using weaponry, lies,
and fucked if I know what else, of a set of ideas designed to force people
to serve agendas that actually hurt...very badly.  Pay attention to your
day...feel when you are beside yourself.  Feel when and how it happens.

Deny it all you want.

I do not believe that this thing is going to be dramatically altered
from the inside.  I don't like the way I feel talking about it.

The system is out to make you a  criminal for choosing
to express yourself.  I am coming to believe that the only
things that can upset the equilibrium enough to actually
raise the questions society needs have been criminalized.

If you resist they will choose to force you out.

They will trick you into thinking it is your own fault.
This culture will bash you around until you're certain
that you are broken.
It is not the poor who are parasitic.
It is not the angry who are wrong.

This culture is waging a war on you.
On your children.
Believe it or not.
Painting in the street is not criminal,
telling people they have to work like a
fucking dog to barely survive is.

Eating your mushrooms is not criminal.
Selling drugs that ruin people livers, cause them to
become suicidal, and limits their ability to
think clearly is.

Being broke is not criminal.
Holding knowledge hostage and forcing people
into debt for it, is.

Hitting people right in the center of their being
with fear, the threat of hunger, of violence for believing that it isn't right to
steal the land and poison the water...and fuck with their brains,
force them to send their children to prison(oops, school, you'll
figure it out, thumbs up to Contented MaMa) is fucking war.

It is not wrong to hit back.

Please share your thoughts with me.
Let's build something better, those of us who care, please.

And after their shitty culture flatlines...we'll share our
bread with those who fell for it.

Much love.

Share your information with me.

Thursday, 14 June 2012

Last bit...

attachment.jpgWell...I got a lot of directions to go with this.
But that is for another time.

Much love that is for sure...a time for all
things and keep in mind the sun shines evenly
on ALL things.

Had a conversation the other day at a party where
I brought up a personal in-joke using the line, "bludgeoned
into oneness."  The man I was talking responded along the
lines of never having a spiritual experience that was like that.

I was personally astounded.
Seemed obvious to me...not that there aren't a wide
variety of available states, information and
transformations (William James, anyone?) but
I just assumed everyone knew that oneness meant
oneness...and that it was as ugly as it was beautiful
or what the fuck would it be?
In other words, sometimes it hits like an angry mother.

Your thoughts are welcome.
Enough of what I'll never understand entirely.

 The last bit of the four part poem...

Staying In Character IV

The last 
thing I 
recall is 
the memory
might be 
clear to
all if
it is


The end of the poem fit with my little ramble. 
That was an accident. 
A likable accident.

Don't let those fuckers get you down, people.

Much love.  

Wednesday, 13 June 2012

More on the same idea...

Continuing the four part poem, "Staying In Character"...

Staying In Character III

At one point the veil
flaps back in such 
a way that we see 
clear into the is
not obvious what sort 
of beasts we're
dealing with...but it is evident
they are feeding on humans
 ...or human shaped
machines...or...are we
witnessing some 
frenzy of dislocated 
shadows fall away
into some kind of
gaping annihilation 
of thought's 
evident through 
the whipping
and diffuse material
that an armless one-eyed
mouth is singing hymns 
from our childhood...the pitch
is bang-on...the tone
soaring and full...
the words are cold 
and distinct but foreign...and
there is a clamoring of 
inappropriate responses...
somewhere in there 
we can clearly observe a
subtle but extremely
quick seems
to be carrying some type
of mate on its back...
its skin is clear...
was that its heart...its blood?

Painting above the series, "Beyond the Idea, the Field, Fuck"

Let your beautiful hearts guide you.
We will make a place for "real" food.
We will keep the children out of the prison schools.
We will let our minds becoming the fluid machines of the future.
And we will make it out of art.
All my love.  

Sunday, 10 June 2012

And This One...

Is for those interested in submitting to the next issue of MeatRobes.  

For whomever that may be please be aware we will be accepting submissions
in any 2D media and will be publishing material we feel works well
with the theme regardless of taste, moral sensibility, sexual content, violence, gore,
gestures of tenderness, alignment with familiars or other forces, weeks spent in
prayer or fasting or other rituals.  We will accept the painfully honest as well
as the cleverly obscured.

The theme is "The Wild Imbecil"
Deadline for submissions: June 25th, 2012...

Some links:

The Fool

Lady Justice


Spiritual Party Demons

Scroll around in this one, there is some interesting material
on tricksters, Western Gender myths, so on:

There's some shit to get things rolling...I'm sure many of you have connections
to more substantial information on these topics.  Please share.

We all love learning.  It's natural.


Continuing The Theme...

...from yesterday.  Actually gonna make two
posts today.  This one first:


The Strange Dog After Its Own Tail

And continuing the theme:

Staying In Character II

So after all that we still 
hadn't really dipped into the stream.

There was noise and confusion and light,
and maybe even a liberating flash of joy,

but the whole wheel was a stable construct
and try as we might it was not going to be an 

easy thing to adjust.  Didn't matter
if you wanted it moving faster, or the other direction, or
to stop completely.  The damn thing was riderless.

And somehow that too was heart warming.  The poor 
boys dug in their heels and the gardeners offered up

what was left of the place in some new type of communion.
No one knew how to behave anymore.

The statuesque had turned timid and there were "Tap In" 
shirts for everyone.  We felt shy about everything.  

The conversations all spun on new and majestic
concepts that eluded every finger.  But for all

that there was more laughter and some truly shameless
screwing in exotic ways.  We were all broke in

any way that could be conceived and that softened the
whole interior.  The wind barely came around.

The moon increased in relevance and the machines 
took over a lot of the heavy lifting.  They flicked the 

next switch as far as program development went and
had things functioning on a nebulous and highly 

ambiguous system of non-commital relationships, 
that could fire each other off without receiving a signal

from anywhere.  This turned out to be the most accurate
representation of the human mind yet.  They found a multitude 

of ways to fold recorded data into any realtime
information flow and that made the difference imperceptible.  The wind 
barely came around and everyone I knew was slipping on

the ideas faster than you can say, "flibbertyjibbet,"  or some
other stupid shit that will function as an authoritative,

self-critical declaration of finality.  


Saturday, 9 June 2012

Keepin' some motion...


Hey y'all.  
Interesting times are happening. 

Attended the Versus show here in Calgary.  
Lots of strong work.  Lots of friendly folk.
Apparently I'm "That Guy"

Which I've begun to conceive of Westernisms zombie.
The already dead are already free.

Read, "Half-hanged Mary" by Margaret Atwood.  

It's a maybe. 

Anyway, show was cool...two artists, one canvas.  

Initially I had a vision of an aggressive event where to 
people would be trying to conquer the same canvas, more like
an art battle, you know...with design strategies as your attacks, counter-attacks.

In the future somewhere that one.  


Where did that come from? 

Anyway...make the sweetest work you can.
Do what you can...may the day treat you 
the way you deserve to be treated.

Here's the first part of a four part poem.
Stay attuned.

The poem is entitled, "Staying In Character"

Actually locating an entry point was quite the problem.
They were sleeping in the treetops.
No one was pointed in any particular direction.
Or everyone was pointed in a very particular direction.

It is not the simplest thing into, you see.
Maybe the story opens up as the sun crosses it.
Either way there is a lot of information spinning in 
The slightly audible thrumming pathways. 

So we step into the action just an uncountable
number of moments after it begins.
The tale involves some lizardy looking fellows,
and an unreasonable number of thoughts.
Luckily most of those were so whispery and useless as to pass
through the witness completely.

The whole thing was obscured behind the available mind
by the most inconsistent of veils.
We could see in as often as we couldn't,
which only served to amplify the confusion.

They were sleeping in the treetops.
We heard their stirring as the sun crossed.
But that was all.
No appearance.

No guidance through the thick bits.
We're hacking a line through some kind of
new electric wire forest growing on crumbled 

Asphalt.  The quiet vibrates with the strangest
buzzing insect I've ever seen.  It drags some 
part of its nature in its jaws.  It has a halo of eyes.
No other creature comes near it.  

Every piece turns around and the fallacy
opens its heart to its victims.
The hungry are fed and the exact
moment when we expected it to stop

and transform into a sense of something 
beyond itself comes and goes.  And we look at each other
with a sweetness previously unconsidered.
It's really a good way to begin all over. 

Thursday, 7 June 2012


So rained out from the job yesterday...
Then the sun comes out...
Smoked enough medicine to be a paranoid
mess of sorts...
Managed to make some fun drawings...
Just like a real adult...





And there you have it.  
Keep your hearts tuned up.

...Oh, one more thing.
Obedience is not a virtue.