Sky

In the fast it has fallen
where secrecy bares lies
the copper is coating
the belljar alive

where there is no air
beneath a carpeted sky
we dash forth among them
in shadows we hide

they walk on through us
we feel but a chill
the answer that was awaiting
waits for us still

Discarding Therapy

Much like there is a so called "Retail Therapy" I am proposing the exact opposite. Think about going out and buying yourself "things" to make yourself feel better...are you serious?

Here's an idea- Discard the things you own before they start owning you (thanks again Chuck P)
Most of the people whom engage in this idiotic behaviour tend to not even purchase anything that helpful- a Juicer from Sharper Image, a Crepe Pan from Crate+Barrell- perhaps even a basket of gourmet "goodies" from David+whomever...

It would make most people feel better not to have these things. Technology, consumerism and related "isms" are not a-moral and certainly immoral in many cases.

Justify why we need Google Earth.

Justify why we need cloning.

Justify why kids spend more time playing WII Golf than actual Golf.

Justify how all the gadgets you have make your life better...better yet, answer this: if you had to hunt your meat and sow your own crops working all day just to feed yourself and make enough $ to put a roof over your head- do you think you could possibly have ADD or Restless Leg Syndrome? You wouldn't have the time for these made-up symptoms to emerge- or exist!

People would once again enjoy nature and corporate sponsorships for highways would cease to exist.

I don't want this to happen- but entropy calls and when it does- orderliness seldom goes hand in hand with it.

Art MIght Imitate Life, But Does Love?

I know millions have debated whether or not art imitates life or vice versa. People have wasted innumerable wasted hours on mundane cliches like this and posited equally fradulent statements about the meaning of life.

I do not want to judge these people but I will. They are morons. I am not.

What I am about to examine is something far more specific-- whether or not love imitates art, or art imitates love.

For instance, the first time a man chased a woman in an airport as she was boarding her flight (pre 9-11) to stop her from leaving and that he loves her and such. Did this actually happen? Did that first scriptwriter or director actually witness this or were they told this by someone else? Or did they make it up because it sounded good?

See here's the problem, I can give you a million more examples of this type of archetypal scene permeating our subconscious- though I would rather have a lobotomy.

So here is the thing thats killing me-- I really have no idea what love is or what it should look like. I understand that you should not have a predetermined ideal inscribed in your mind (or heart), but I don't know how I would know if I was. But I havent.

So that being said, leet me be clear-- I can safely say I have never been in love. I was once told being in Love is like China-- you know its there (even though its around the world and you have probably never been there) but rely on pictures, stories from travelers, stories, articles, atlas' etc.

When You Don't Know What You Want (You End Up With Alot of What You Don't...)

I blindly followed the laws of society as they were dictated to me-- albeit unaware I was walking down the path that would ultimately lead to my demise.

I worked really hard and made a lot of money. I got married. I played golf on weekends and I went to bed early during the week.

I could not tell you why I did any of the above except I thought that is what one is "supposed to do." I was consumed with high end catalogs-- buying shaving brushes with a faux tortoise shell handle and a juicer. Why?

I don't know.

I am in touch with humanity at present, simply because I acknowledged what was wrong with my life and consciously rejecting it.

Of course I still have a job-- but it no longer defines me. I am not defined by anything I do any more, I am simply myself.

A Generation of Men Raised by Women or Part I, an Introduction

Men today have lost touch with their identity. It was not too long ago that we were hunter-gatherers, entrusted with feeding, sheltering and protecting our families. This is no longer the case.

Chuck Palahniuk's magnum opus, Fight Club, changed my life forever. Whilst the book has many themes running concurrently throughout (Neo-Luddism, Anarcho-Primitivism, loneliness, etc.) it is really a struggle between modern man and the impulses of his male subconscious. As the story progresses, the nameless narrator surrenders more and more of himself to the beckoning of his alter-ego-- and eventually stumbles to what I believe is the pinnacle of self-realization-- what being a man really means.

It isn't about marriage, possessions or consumerist status symbols. It's about clarity-- ignoring what we are "supposed" to be doing (buying nice furniture, working in a cubicle, etc.) and uncovers the true path to salvation.

This is my journey.

Manifesto Destiny

Not that anyone reads this blog but I would still like to apologize for the recent dearth of posts. I have been busy reading up on all things related. to the next stage in this experiment, my manifesto.

I have come to realize that I am a neo-luddite and frankly, it has changed my life for the better. In order to share this blessed gift I will be devoting more time in the near future to due diligence and watxhing The Notebook.

The Southern Cross

One of the most beautiful songs I have come to know is "Southern Cross" by Crosby Stills Nash and Young (also popularized by Jimmy Buffetts cover).

The greatest force driving the music is love, but not love in the traditional sense eg between two people etc. It really is the stability of the partner here, the "southern cross," a part of a constellation travelers/sailors used to find their way. Had you not known this- the way the stars are sung about could be the way you feel about that one person- that one thing dear to your heart, except the stars are always there- they can't hurt you and leave you. Sure they may be hidden behind cirrus, stratus or cumulus clouds- but inevitably they're always there.

Personally I prefer Buffett's cover- it speaks to me. Maybe its his love of the ocean that is more convincing than 4 hippies whom probably never sailed- I don't know.