Do you know social justice warrior? The bs rigmariole, intellectuals know better, mental health problemo. Every goddamn pseudo revolutionary has an opinion bout allbrainwash. Their words and griping so important. The speechifying of shithead wannabes is deafening my ears. Give em a medal! They’re soo right. They’re epitome of leftist healing. Fuck dem poser, bumba, I know more about ‘your ‘ struggle liars.
I dunno man. You sound like a commercial for yourself instead of a human being with intricacies and pros and cons, doubt and hopes with elevating flaws and down to earth confused self-image . You tagging yourself, making each sentence a message with the hook, a post of yourself as you see yourself after life seminar on achieving. Don’t we get enough of that with the consistent marketing and advertising placard every which way til Sunday mainstay?
Walking down littered streets and cul-de-sac adjacent broad boulevards with giant post-its of realtors and jewelry sicko fancy aside buses glued with recommended consumption. Money lenders on Broadview. Gold traders on Queen.
Young guy with ultra enthusiasm for self-congratulation and mission plans. Current career goal shine bright in sight, ditch friends and peers that don’t fit right. Sell sell sell yourself cause people gotta believe hype, make em believe, bleed positive pro-slap-happy anthem. Bank commercial couples so smiley couplets, go-getters and closers make people feel alright. Confidence makes, you make, you made, made men, conmen.
Conscience pressed down low for the career advancing get along gang schmoozing, here’s my wife pleasures all around, pleasant convo, business texts exec check yourself direct, social cohesion infects, Innotech behaviour shake hands reflex.
Humblebrag; boastful humour revealo, self-esteem reload, sales sniper ammo put at ease the awkward feel of distancing people, pushed away personal personalities like sour wine when all the goers posing with sweet grapes. Pat backs grin Mad Men Mad Max domes keep in competition for the hungry man that wins. Bone and flesh deserted for symbiotic business, synergy and fusion effusive indifference for lost boys and desert men. Poddy people ironically podding in, iCloud of persons merging ideology for simplicity city.
Simplex no complex just high-rise objectivists keeping eyes on existentialist fringes.
Oceans rise so we must turn mermen and merfemme. Swim in modern times, silent era for the wave machines.
Copacetic conditioned, flaxen shine and voluminous multi strands.
Hair turned to wig turned to waxen mannequins. We be tin turned plastic Man. Melt us again.
Sittin listening to Tupac explain his life
Reups and remixes and is he back right?
Can’t help picturing myself with the similar shoulder burdens
No guns and drugs but the memories of pain and loss
Mind blinks back to younger foolhardy
Lament with the dark poets and authors struggled with the dark half
Bled out the dark spirits to fill up the manifest
Black blood rushed forth onto pages and paragraphs
Thinking maybe it’ll have its time or maybe timeless
All of us waxing till the candle gives out
Feel a need to bleed this story out
Let it flow manic and dangerous and scrawl the living world in pages
Footnotes in the mind yell out for swiftness
Get it out like virus eating us cancerous
Cells in the blood multiply
Is it demonspawn or Angeldust?
Or we mortals or sanctus spiritus?
Latinate to germinate
Stews inside us amid the boiling pot
Pretty words to mingle with ugliness
Ugliness turned remembrance turned appreciative
If nothing else we’ve lived a life and learned a touch of tenderness
Some turn away from dirt and strife
The people on principle have hard knock lives
But my neck can’t take the constant twists and averted gaze
I tried for a few years and didn’t like what I’d seen
The mirror spoke nothing and eyes saw emptiness
Not even a shell just lingering abandonment
Wanted to feel more nothing and received the death wish
The soul such dwindling and warmth evading
Spirit within just dissipated for lack of use
No little charity would solve the runaway
Ran from self then left a false self
Created some Rashoman situation where I’d lied to me and mine
More stories to hide the thing within
Acted cold but too sensitive reality
Add more heaviness when ignoring the calls from in
So much more force to keep rigid order
Strap down a heart and prepare for a burst forth
Prison escape, exploding cells
Arterial walls break down as it swells
Grinchaloo who smacked himself to a wake up
This acting game I’m just not up to snuff
Prefer the snort and laugh to the hollow man’s bulletpoint
So industry and corporations in Canada can ask for and get away with loopholes and violations technically allowed by intervening governments like designation changes to allow for disposal for mining companies, tax loopholes to buff quarterly profits, subsidies for all manner of improvement that won’t be reflected in prices for products and services, but the people have to fight for years and years to get a break on something that has proven itself to be a benefit to society and people’s lives. Everyone complained about the telephone companies in old days and still we have the same thing happening with stifling telecoms and corporate obfuscation mingling with the the milieu of avarice and market domination. Spend so much glitter and gold for censorship and controlled streams and service. Will two tier internet come? Are we going to stay on the low rung of countries with poorer broadband? As it is I think we still are lower than most when it comes to upload speed, at a time when content is being uploaded everywhere constantly.
Maybe the Net will envelop us too much and we shall come to rely on it more than now and it could create a huge flaw in the system and operation of the world. May be the electricity and tubes become a hindrance and a doomed reliance, but as it stands we all need this tool, many working or poor people start businesses around the world when broadband is available. We can waste money on ceremonies and public funerals for Tom and Mary politicians but not upgraded connections for all of us. Spend money on idiotic fanfare and confetti for some douche in a suit running for a delegation job.
I get confused and then cynically remember this happens regularly, like old man McGee and his prune juice. Sittin there all squaw reading the Post grumbling about commie liberals and fat o the land takers like government help is new. The important stuff has to take time and lords of the underworld have to stymy and procrastinate so they have prolonged work to do and a job to make promises and golden dawn allusions. What the fack? Am I going to have to pay more money to watch hot trannies rub balloons together while some creepy farmhand watches at the window?
We have a serious problem of hate going on. Maybe a lot of you don’t know, maybe the media portrays it one way, in a politically correct way, but Fundamentalist Americans hate us. Not just right wing politics. What is said behind those closed doors, those polite middle classers speaking of their muslim co-worker, vitriole abounds inside these homes and Neoamerican minds.
These are the Americans who have swayed so far from the ideals of those slave owning forefathers or have lived up to the hidden message of American exceptionalism and superiority and Manifest Destiny, depending on your viewpoint. They have cocooned themselves in hate years before the September 11th bombings that took not only those lives in the towers but also the lives of victims of fear, hate and paranoia. Sikhs who were beaten and killed in the street for looking “moslem,” browns of all stripes being stared at and suspected for the color of their skin; no Timothy McVeigh or Paul Bernardo treatment. The deathcamp for cutie scenario always plays its hand in the land of the free, home of the brave xenophobic. A land taken by force and settled by foreigners staring stone-faced into irony’s face. Tempting and teasing these paradoxes of freedom, free market, legal bindings, cronyism, war profiteering and the myth of meritocracy.
The Americans of potential and greatness, great aspirations and drive are relegated to low positions or assistive to high payed takers and shakers. The brilliant minds are shouted down by cacophonous tempers and shortsighted fear mongering. Scapegoats are the bread and butter, of demagogues, populists, zealots and conmen. The new Rome is gripping its throat with the smog of ignorance and expediency and obfuscating doublespeak. North America is marketed and marketing so the slogans and soundbites be the key, the repeated lies and mantras of insiders, the “real americans” slipping from twisted lips. What is their idea of Real Americans? Are they being so dishonest about their past and the gritty hard details of past heroes and working stiffs ignoring the good fight?
People often fight against change and new ideas. They stomp and kick at it like babes wanting their comfort and familiarity. Fight tooth and nail for the dream of what yesteryear was, what they think of themselves and this rosy perception of their nation. Those so unaware of what they support and prop up for this pride and patriotism as they call it. They are patriotic, others are dangerous. Displaying of confederate flags that do not actually represent the times and armies they think it does nor the great battle of those wanting status quo. It is no different now, status quo and keeping things the same in their minds is the obsession. As the social justice warriors take all and sundry to heart and believe regurgitating lines is the good fight, so too do the fervent patriots believe they are sons of the soil, the true fighting the false. They are bastions of what should be. The Right is right, the Left bereft.
Hail the man who dashes reason but speaks his mind. Yosemite Sam one minute and Tweety the next. Market the darling, sell the hate, grab your true believers till you need their pensions and property. The followers believe the radicals because they offer a negative hope. Rid the world of enemies and defend the fatherland so that you may be safe and no new enemies can harm you for you are chosen people; divine providence for the righteous. Deus Ex Machina before the elections please.
What is there to greatness, what is this greatness we seek as the little sparkle of our light grows and advances over the years? Are we to be the Toms or Samuel Hamiltons of the world. Must I be great, the pinnacle of me that resides in my head? Must I be so wise, my gravitas nestled in my form, my voice must echo in the minds of others. I am wanting of the praise of populace. Awaiting accolades of the acolytes. Praise be above me praise be upon me praise be of me.
I am torn, Imbruglia torn, rendered between humble civility and arrogant princeliness like the round robin never dying fight of the last true Saiyans. I shatter the self for respite from maniacal hordes ego-succubusing the core of my life for some Machiavellian Faustian deal on a life half-lived, half-faltered, half-thrown away to the ravages of time, sloth and insulating fear.
Behold the Wickerman, Birdman, chu chu churian canditate. Lost in a hustle, scuffled in tussles, breakbeat break neck speed ramping up the mental. I’m raving I’m raving. Mad mad lunacy eyein me. Can’t get enough of thinking about me, she, parallels and variables. My quantum spanner on the fritz, flux capacitor shoddily dying in the afterglow of the aftermath of Mathers of fact. Ken Kaniff smoking spliffs with sensitive kids on youth trip. Where am I in it? I said I’d rip it and spit I said it so forget it; my words lost on the lofi wifi confused sigh of the people of the lands, imaginary fans. Either the great or the meek I’m on this rock and rule course and I’ve cast aside destiny, fate, hope, vigorous denial. If I am to be my own wise buddha I certainly must accept what is hard to accept and make of myself a greatness worth having.
I worked at a meat packing plant, I call it the slaughterhouse. Although I’m vegan now after seeing too much and reading too much about the weird shit the farm factories and food industry does to animals back then I was carnivore rex. I used to make up meat songs in my youth, and spank meat at the grocery store, alone because no one would do it with me, humans and their social graces and mores. I even got a huge meat poster from the place and tried to memorize the beef cuts so I would seem meat learned.
But that time there, months of night and then day shifts, slowly moving away form people and social situations, the longest I had worked at a place. Made friends, had an okay time just aching for the 12 hour shift to be over. Day after day I would see the pools of blood on the floor needing to be hosed down every other minute, slabs of pink flesh everywhere devoid of life, I saw the cows come in and wait out there overnight until morning glory death. They looked like poor slaves to me from a distance, big shining eyes looking vacant and unaware, maybe they knew their fate, could sense it as animals do.
I’d patrol the upper areas of the building where all the big husks of animal parts were strewn about on giant hooks, dangling pathetically there without dignity, I guess there is no dignity in a dead body, any body. I Rocky’d a few of the cow slabs because how could I not. Just rows and rows of hanging bodies of various animals being dragged around for the whole process of it all. Air bullet death, slicing and separating, packing and shipping massive amounts in big trucks driven by don’t give a shit drivers, some of them had good weed though. One time I was asked to check on them after hours and we smoked up and had cheap lucky beer, 1 dollar a can. That Jamaican weed makes me paranoid, thought one of them was a cop at my window.
I could handle it then, now it’s too grotesque and watching those behind the scenes videos or reading about the inner workings and the lax oversight is soul sucking. I can’t even really enjoy meat anymore or eggs, I cheat every now and then like with cigarettes but the taste is so average, nothing special anymore just fleshy bits that smell good but leave me blarg. Everyone else can eat what they want but I am not supporting that crazy weird torturous gulag freak show. I’ve seen some animals at an experimental farm in Ottawa and they’re just massive stock being milked and fattened up for the market, there ain’t no pinky toes anymore.
Blood and sweat drops
Blood and sweat drops
Yesterday’s labor is fading
Wait for new builds on display
Revel in future of the obsolete
Machine madness takes hold today
Masses market nonstop harvest
Animal farm is a capitalist dream
Money is better than the humane
You go up there and be a comedian, you think you’re being real and honest like some Bill Hicks or Doug Stanhope. But are you being real or are you acting your whole life? Waiting for the courage for that voice inside you to come out, waiting for a time when you have laurels to actually stand on, waiting still to be a person and stop trying to be one. You’re one of the bros. You say the right things and you follow the social etiquette of the day and this is what makes you the good one in the scenario? I’m the asshole for getting pissed about a perpetual raw deal and venting from time to time, forgetting my senses and social graces and lashing out from pain and sorrow. I said the wrong things but do I spend my time mocking and ridiculing others’ flaws and foibles? Have I been taking the chaff off sensitive souls, throwing them like garlands for the children of the corn? Delighting in making light of mental illness and disabilities?
No I did not do that, I let out anger that was pushed down for years. I scared people and annoyed people and took to rudeness as dew to dawn; vitriolic expulsions and venom carnage spewing on the lot of them like Peter Parkers’ webbing. That cynicism envelops, that misanthropy becomes principle, gorging on hate and fear and planting seedlings inside to burst forth little cretin xenomorphs. An alien unto this world. Past sense, past illusions, partly past the ebb and flow of feelings, shedding respect and bitten tongues. I lurch forth the Hyde and hurl garbled insults at the tavern, at the club, at the meandering masses who I disdained so. Images in my head, prejudices formed and added to by years of mental/emotional assaults and self-esteem whittling, personas and faults splattered onto youngens in line of fire.
Reason abandons in times of need. Hate and anger commits to you and you to them. The dark side is mesmerizing and easy, the chip on the shoulder begs for release asking you to lay into laymen and curse and lash at this younger generation. You yawned at the old ones tsk tsking and lecturing and what have you turned into but another bitter adult annoyed at the ease of the new, the hand fed society, the instantaneous satisfaction built into every facet, every technology brought to market. Little piggies squealing for the goods and expecting it. That’s where the anger came, expectation, no appreciation, arrogance and self-worth from nowhere. No deeds accomplished, no back-breaking work and dirty jobs done. Spoon fed knowledge in the schools, on the web, and my what pride they would have in themselves. Superficially smarter and smugness lurking in those faces. Not everyone but I placed that mantle on all. All faces were smug faces, all talk was condescension and sarcasm. Years of pointed laughter makes minds merry with fret and paranoia.
But I learn, must learn, must evolve. A writhing Caterpie waiting for cocoon coil and fresh release with glitter wings on silver wind. Anger management placed and followed, inner calm on the purview. These mental machinations of aggression and bitchslapping get out of hand but a relief from the gulped aggro. Let me dance internally and let out the Hyde vicariously, supping on dreams of villainy and scorching earth theoretically.
We all have anger and hurt inside us, the goal is to calm, to yield to peace and overcome primal ignorance. Easy said rarely done. More years of meditation and logic to butter battered brain. The better side of valour in the distance and I’m Python walking into it.
You say you have the way, you are right in your actions and religious zeal. But you have a negative philosophy and you think you know people but you cast a wide net. You place so many people as so called “infidels” into your little boxes and compartmentalize the damage and hurt you inflict on their lives and their families. Connections and whole existences are broken and shattered by your groups’ hands, histories are being eradicated due to your human negation and this never ending crusade against vague enemies in the distance. You become what you espouse to hate and what your god dislikes and in your actions you create the same sensibilities and feelings in us. What others don’t realize is we all become our worst enemies, nobody dies a hero, you have turned us into terrorists looking at the bottom line and accepting this collateral damage and planetary destruction.
Each year brings more callousness and ramped up battlefronts, each season adds to the blood toll for the sake of the greater good, an end to evil that will never be. Everyone likes to say we should learn from history, wisdom wills out, but what do we learn and take into us with the big picture? We take revenge, we torture and kill for the ends justify the means, old wars turn into new causes turn into patriotic fervour, the eagle snatches the goat. Our more dire concerns relating to our world and survival are overshadowed by bullies and short-sighted men taking each others pawns in a worldwide game theory scenario. We know better, there is no winning there is only limited escapes and the least losses taken, but you do not take them, our government does not take them, we do, we take all the pain and suffering onto ourselves and battle with our bloodlust and anger.
Injustice is everywhere and none of us have real answers or solutions. We bathe in bitterness and writhe in our false promises and predation; there is no going back from murder, all the acted apologies and prayers, all the speeches about missions and duties is a pathetic excuse for moral degradation and primal reactions. War, politics and religion is the three-headed beast that claims to solve our problems while creating more and placing all of us on the sidelines into the fray, to defend our right to exist. You, our leaders, our fellow citizens, have rushed us headlong into arenas of distrust, paranoia, and constant fear. And for what? an idea! The ideas that populate you world, your twisted minds and fantasies, the idea that you and your ilk know better and know what our species must do. How we must act, dress, talk to each other. Who’s version of 1984 are we going to have? When is everyone’s life going to be their own? When will you leave us be and stop pretending you have answers?
There are no answers, only being, so just be.
The market and food production is the way it is now. For us to continue doing business we need to be competitive, we need to adopt all these practices that modern farmers use to stay in the game. Antibiotics, artificial insemination, selective breeding, caging and penning, all to increase our yield and continue to do business, keep our way of life. It would be nicer for the animals and our sense of self if we tried a different way, went back to the old ways, but if we don’t make profits the bank takes it all, no more farm, all industrial mass production everywhere. And if we changed gears and adopted a more humane approach the costs would be higher, the labour more intensive and longer waits for output, we’d have to charge more for our product and our customer base wouldn’t tolerate that, they’d just go somewhere else with their dollar. There is no loyalty anymore, you can’t force people to buy humane when our lives are run by economics. Our guiding principles used to be morals, at least that’s what we told ourselves, now it’s security and sound finances to buffer us from ruin and poverty. What can you do in this new world without the money? This isn’t some fairy tale dream of your great grandpa making it with a hay penny and a can-do attitude in the burgeoning world of spit shine hopes and dreams. People are separated from where their money goes and comes from. They can’t keep track of all the things they passively support and what horrors they subsidize, this globalization is the fog of war and we’re just infantry. What can we do to change the world’s turns? What can I do to make ends meet when the ends are all programmed in narrow margins?