"All the World's a Stage We Pass Through" R. Ayana

Tuesday 17 February 2009

Dreamer: All that we can see or seem…

Dreamer
All that we can see or seem…

‘You say you want a revolution? You know we all want to change the world…’
- Revolution by The Beatles

 think globally didgeridoo by mardi grass.

Back in the days of the last youth revolution that swept the planet during the old Cold War, the obstacles to world peace were odious and obvious. Millions of wide-eyed children could see that the emperor had no clothes and rebelled against the folly of their hidebound parents, who had marched the world to the brink of catastrophe. Anyone not yet blinded by colour-coded propaganda could easily see that puppeteers pulled the strings, called the shots and named the tune that whole populations goose-stepped along with.

Needless conflicts were fanned into bloodthirsty wars by merchants of death and tacky tabloid cheerleaders. Conflicts were created and conducted solely for profit as juggernauts of death were rolled off industrious production lines in competitive and clannish countries. Religion, race, colour and language were the uniforms of overgrown school bullies, who exploited the mythological ‘team spirit’ of competitive sport to manufacture ever bigger and deadlier ball games. They kicked the whole planet around to reach pointless point-scoring goals. The diverse and beautiful ecosystem was trampled into a scabrous monocultural lawn beneath the hobnailed boots of reflexively kicking infantile morons. Whole nations were brainwashed with ideological anthems and carefully crafted symbols, and danced to the repetitive tunes of jingoistic jingles. Sound familiar, kids? Not much has changed, eh?

The entire farce was created and maintained by handfuls of ruthless men in the intelligence community - and the industrial behemoths they still work for and play with. These self-styled ‘leaders’ usually fall for their own propaganda and entrain their hothouse children to follow in their dynastic footsteps. They swiftly come to believe they’re the only ones who are born to rule, and that theirs are the only shoulders fit to heft the terrible burden of control.

Perpetually terrified of losing the unfairly privileged positions they’ve clung to since the heady days of feudal monarchies - when disposable slaves knew their place and emperors ruled by whimsical violence – they long to conserve the right of might, to ensure the longevity of their addled inbred bloodlines. These possessive presences will always be afraid of the people of Earth and will play both sides against the middle. They’ll continue the rivalrous royal game of kill or be killed, until we finally pull the rugs out from under their rotund backsides and kick them down the long ‘ladder of success’ which they guard with such ruthless determinism.

They still cloak their own terrors and insecurities in the veiling flags of patriotism and ideology – the last refuges of irredeemable scoundrels. Kingly thugs, hardboiled queens, illegally elected (p)residents and captains of industry know that no-one with a clear mind or sound heart can truly love them or countenance their inherently evil methods. They’re fully aware that unfair rule can only be maintained by endless fear, and they keep their domesticated human lackeys as ignorant and distracted as possible with meaningless entertrainment and lying tribalistic dogma.

It’s a simple matter to deliberately drive wedges into the human family and divide and conquer the tribes of humankind into mutually fearful clusters of prickly individuals; the weapon wielders customarily split, straighten and punish their way to absolute control. Totemic nationalists create endless cycles of violence with profitably murderous wars and arbitrary socially divisive laws, keeping ‘their’ workaday wage-slave hordes in a corporate state of perpetual fear. Co-opted and carefully mediated media cheer squads tell anyone who’ll listen that their leaders are acting in their population’s best interests and doing ‘what the people want’.

Back in the day of the flower power Enlightenment - when the rising tide of revolutionary zeal turned the wheel of fortune in a new direction - the gangster elites had managed to ramp up the fears of domesticated primates until they’d split the world into two apparently competing hemispheres. The east was Red and the rest was West, and it seemed that the twain would only meet in mutually assured destruction.

The Show Must Go On

totem pole by mardi grass. 

When the illusory Iron Curtain swiftly dropped away in a harmonic convergence of surprisingly manifest destiny, the lifetime-long fraud of the Cold War dissolved in a single splendid moment. The truth was finally revealed to any with eyes naïve enough to see through industrial smoke and corporate mirrors, and ears sensitive enough to hear past simplistic slogans and martial anthems.

Yet hardly anyone noticed that the emperors, presidents and commissars wore no clothes, and well-trained workers continued to prop up the global feudal regime with their irreplaceable time and precious energy. Even when the world hung poised on the brink of being truly free, the wage slaves couldn’t recognise their newfound freedom and willingly trudged back into toxic satanic mills and life-sucking multistory orifices. Very few had ever been hippies or flower children, and had no idea that preferable ways of life and superior lifestyles were freely available to any who sought them. Almost all the freed slaves followed in the footsteps of their purblind parents and backed the same losers in the same rigged game all over again.

Back in the first false dawn of the Age of Aquarius, chemical and industrial pollution became a universally abhorred byproduct of a civilization that was headed for ruin. It became obvious that societies had become so blinded by greed they were happily poisoning themselves to cumulative oblivion. Pollution was widely recognised as an easily avoided but unfortunately profitable little money-spinner, feeding the productive coterie of ghouls and vampires who sucked the life from the planet and its citizens in the guise of progress.


It was easy to discern that atomic war and nuclear power were utterly interlinked and essentially indistinguishable sides of the same deadly coin. The worldwide protection racket clearly held workers in their warrens on both sides of the Iron Curtain under radioactive umbrellas, and the profits of the ‘arms race’ were unprecedentedly spectacular to behold. The economic boom-and-bust times went on and on, while populations lived half-lives of workaholic pointlessness and became addicted to compulsive and self-blinding distractions.


The face of the enemy was everywhere. He was known as ‘The Man’. Although their features and skin colours differed, the planet destroyers could be easily recognised by the uniform they cheerlessly adopted. Almost all wore short-shorn hair and colourless business suits, and each and every one had a symbolic strangling garrote tied round their bought-and-sold necks - ties that bound antisocial demi-Darwinists to the oaths of death-servicing lifelong debts and held them in bondage.

Their boring camouflage empowered busy nest-builders to regress into the lawlessness of an artificial corporate jungle as they competed for equally amoral mates. The white-collared clotted cream of the crop were locked into a planetary pyramid scam in which the prime movers were the only ones to ultimately profit – a fact which would only occur to most on their deathbeds, or when they’d lost all the trappings of the Good Life in a takeover, merger, divorce, health crisis or spontaneous ethical revelation.

The corporate pyramid climbers laughed at the student radicals thronging in the streets between classes and casual jobs, certain that time was on their side - and not without cause; most of the protesters called for ‘revolution’, but only for the briefest of bright moments. Most inevitably walked off the open streets and willingly entered cancerous workplaces or bloated bureaucracies. They sold out their souls and beliefs to feed bloodthirsty Mammon with a fresh generation of irreplaceable time and precious energy.


A new generation awoke and arose like a lotus blossom, pushing though the mired torpor of a society which was still trapped in the mindset of medieval feudalism to seek the light of a new dawn. Most succumbed to the thick gravity exuded by the fears of their parents and peers, and sank back into the depths of vegetative lives. A tiny proportion broke free to pollinate the new age with freedom-seeking spores, yet many dreamers held onto their ideals even as they sank into lives of desperate boredom or productively destructive mindlessness.

Even as the revolution began to fade and fail, seeds began to sprout in the fertile minds of women and men everywhere - often lodged deep beneath their armored hides, thickened and wrinkled by endless wearying struggle and self defeating denial. These sleepers still dream of how it could have been, and some even dream of how it may still yet be – not for themselves, but for others who are lucky enough to be young and free in this brave new aeon. The more noble dreamers want to heal the world and give peace a chance for their descendants’ sakes – while those with a glimmering of enlightened self interest know that we are all our own great-grandchildren.

Some of the notions of the youth revolution seeded the newly reforming nations of today’s wide-eyed or weary populations. Some ideas eternally spring from the source of all truth and meaning, and can never be repressed for long. A forest takes generations to grow to its full height, and it takes a little time for true regeneration to manifest; all meaningful changes in society take at least a human generation to manifest. The ideas and possibilities that transformed the closing decades of the last millennium are only just beginning to form a new canopy and regenerate the dreaming mind of humankind. Thinking like a tree broadens your perspective; every single tree can grow a crown, sharing the light that falls equally on all to form a mutually supportive interlinked canopy.

Cut Out the Middle Man

Why not cut to the chase and cut the crap? We don’t need to stop polluting the planet because ‘carbon emissions’ will warm up the world - but because we’re all poisoning ourselves to make money for a few jerks! We can choose to be fair and square with each other; not because of a utopian ideal to share the world’s resources equitably, but because it’s the only sane way to live our uniquely individual lives - and it’s the only way our species will manage to survive and thrive in the new millennium!

We can support all the world’s billions in comfort, doing away with hunger and need (if not want) – and we can live on a clean green planet as trustworthy stewards and wise custodians, instead of a cancerous breed of rapacious fools. All we need to do – on a global scale - is create new systems of food, fuel and energy production that will feed the growth of the new paradigm, not the growth of populations.

As individuals we need to reach out to each other and tear down our fences. We need to remove the too-proper ties between our ‘properties’ and drop defensive behaviours that bind us into isolated fearful pockets and unclear nuclear families. Realty blocks and notional borders are the only real states for those with no eye for reality. Insecure property owners install ubiquitous camera eyes that follow everyone’s every move, creating a tool the Gestapo, KGB or CIA would have cut off each other’s testicles to own.

Surveillance societies lock themselves into the inescapable petty tyranny of bureaucratic blunderers and unthinking busybodies, the by-blows of all militaristic police states. While Big Brother is watching your every move and populations are being taught that private space is an outmoded concept, people feel less secure than ever. It’s high time everyone realised that private space is an uncomforting hell-hole when it becomes a suburban cell you have to lock yourself into at night, before you can feel safe enough to get some sleep. It’s time to tear down the fences and meet the neighbours in the light of an all-night party that rocks all the way to a new dawn.

To paraphrase Mephistopheles, hell blinds its captives to the stark reality of their own captivity. People who believe they are free are much easier to subdue and control than those who can see that the emperor has no clothes. How can you fool someone into remaining a productive worker unit when they know that the future is a flaming ruin filled with helpless dying human lemmings? How are you going to keep the primates down on the flood-prone lower branches when they learn which way is up? How do you keep a skilled, well-educated labour force under the thrall of their presumptive owners? It’s easy; you make them afraid; deeply, personally, immediately afraid for themselves and their family in the here-and-now - insecure beneath unsecured roofs without an inch of slack or a moment of free time. And you provide them with an easily identifiable scapegoat as an enemy.

Will it work on you and your family – again? Or will you see through the lie that almost all women and men believe, and step out from under the irradiated umbrella of the city walls into the pure light of day? Come on in – the water’s finer than what’s coming out of your bottles and taps. Take a breath of sweet oxygenated air created by a forest of trees – and plant a whole lot more. Then the Earth Mother may see you as one of her prime mates, and not merely another bagful of polluted sewage.

The times are changing fast. The time is soon coming when everyone will be asked to stand up for what they believe in and make a choice; for many the choice is already here. More than mindless rebellion is required in the fruitful days ahead; we need mindful rebellions instead, all over the world, in every office and kitchen. If we want a better future than the antiquated vision of Armageddon that evil-minded arseholes continually foist on us, we’ll have to create it ourselves. Neither gods nor spacemen nor Big Brother can help us, and thank heaven for that! We have everything we need to unlearn how to weave straw into gold, and keep on writing the greatest story ever told – forever and ever, amen and awomen.

Despite all the lies on Earth, free and abundant energy and fuels are available to us now – devices and substances which won’t harm the planet, pollute the environment or use up any irreplaceable resources at all! Despite all the lies on Earth, there’s still plenty of food to go around – if we stop turning our grain supply into b-grade polluting petroleum substitutes that do nothing but make more money for the greedy idle rich and pollute the atmosphere. No-one needs to starve, or even do without their little luxuries; it’s the supersized tidbits the Earth can’t afford, any more than it can continue to support the plethora of insecure, obesely addicted swine who guzzle poisons with such thoughtless ugly gracelessness.


Inside every greedy, unappetizingly selfish fat person there’s an honest innocent child enduring eternal torment in a loathsome life of terrible denial. Inside every screaming violent tyrant is a crying baby. Within every violent footballer or soldier is a wide-eyed infant trying to please its parents. We need to grow bigger hearts and wider smiles - and develop a lower tolerance for the greedy, the bigoted, the bullying and the superstitious aspects of ourselves and others. It’s unwise to judge other people, but it’s smart to be discerning. The success of frank honesty is determined by the tact one employs when telling the truth – but let’s be honest; we all know greed, unfairness and stupidity when we see it in the mirror of another human soul.

Whether your judgment be fair or foul, tell the oppressive boss, compulsive follower - or wonderful neighbour, supportive friend, nourishing family member or loved beloved - what you think to their face, with compassion and honourable honesty; unless, of course, they have a gun to your head and are encouraging you to tell a lie. Gunmen, policemen and soldiers never expect to hear the truth; honour and duty are concepts they’ve been carefully trained to misunderstand, so don’t bother arguing with them. If you want to become allied and engaged with the unflinching ongoing challenge of living an honourable life, be prepared to listen and absorb more often than to praise or decry. The truth comes to all in the end, and no-one can successfully lie to themselves when they’re lying on their deathbed; it’s much better to face the truth while you have a chance of acting on it in this life.

Welcome to Immortality

Trippers Tribute by mardi grass. 

Dreamers and artists will always have a much better time - in life and death - than patriots or warriors. Creativity is what we need to breed if we’re to make it through the approaching tunnel and into the light beyond. The New Earth is right here, waiting for us alongside the New Heaven. It’s visible to those with open minds, unblinkered eyes and compassionate hearts; you need all three to really get a head in this world, or to make it through the eye of the needle. Enlightenment beckons all, but it’s understandable if many are too afraid of their own shadows to step into the spotlight of higher consciousness. Some people always prefer to remain in the shady suburban lowlands of the underworld.

As all true angels say when they appear in old testaments and newer fables of dark and dangerous times; ‘Be not afraid’. The only real revolution is the wheel that spins inside your soul, re-evolving you toward heaven on Earth – the home we all yearn for and the place where we all belong. Give peace a chance, and lend a hand to those who are working for change or to preserve the planet – unless you can think of something better to do with your time.

After all, one click and all this will fade into the distance of forgotten memories, buried hopes and denied dreams. One click and you can keep being entertrained – and not have to do anything to save yourself or the world. Or the next click can be the off button, and you can go into the wide wonderful world and find something (or someone) new and exciting – right now, this very instant! Or this one… or…

The choice is always up to you.
- R. Ayana


‘…But if you’re talking about destruction, don’t you know that you can count me out.
Well you know it’s going to be alright!’



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