Sunday, 17 March 2013

(Rejected) entry for re: America

The heavily armed anakin skywalker of continents, the US of A can be accurately likened to a raging, paranoid wildebeest, high on bath salts, blindly staggering towards extinction in a china shop of its fabricated, fluoride-sustained reality.

Timmy: I sure hope it's a nice day tomorrow so I can ride my new bicycle!

Bobby: Better hope the US of A don't blow us all up then.

Timmy: Oh yes, the US of A are always blowing shit up.

Thursday, 7 March 2013


When I was a little girl growing up in Milan I lived on one of the busiest roads in the city. Popular brand stores lined my vision up and down it, and during the day fashionable Italians flocked steadily through their doors, jostling each other with their glossy carrier bags. At night bored, middle aged consumers would traipse along in diamanté sandals, eating ice cream and settling for a time at one of the bars' outside table for some drinks before raucously packing themselves away into taxis and growling away.
This street was always noisy, industrially glamerous, a loaded consumer paradise...
Apart from around 4 to 6 in the evening, when a hush would descend over the evening, broken only by the occasional passage of a car or drunken brawl, or the hasty clacking of a young girl who had been separated from her group and like a young herbivore in the wild was trying to reach the safety of indoors before being descended upon by urban predators. 
At these hours the bin men would make their nightly rounds, silently clearing up the refuse of the day and piling into their enormous green truck with ironic images of leaves and nature plastered across the side. They wore fluorescent green vests and swept the streets with fluorescent green brooms. They rarely said a word to eachother, they would keep their eyes o the garbage and their backs hunched, the silent goblin gleeners of the night.
My mother was renting a large, airy flat on one of the street corners and I regularly would watch this early morning scene as a young teenager from my window as I struggled with my insomnia and often depression.
Running adjacent to Corso Buenos Aires was Corso ______, and along this less visited street beaten whores would sit huddled on doorsteps, bulging in uncomfortably taught looking clothes. They'd be murmuring sullenly to eachother, straightening up when a male would walk by, frequently to be verbally abused and then paid a visit to on the shush later. Some of these girls were my age at the time, 13, others could have been as old as 60.
And a little further along Corso _____ was a parking lot, but every Saturday the cars would vacate that large concrete rectangle and locals would erect stalls and set up their market place called la Fiera Obei-Obei. I remember buying my hamster there for five euro from the man who sold them out the back of his truck, along with little birds, pigeons and occasionally rabbits. When the sun began to set over the city and la Fiera had packed up, my mom would point out the usually elderly person or two who would slowly pick their way from one corner of the empty parking lot to the next, gleaning the less rotten fruits and vegetables.
Further along Corso ____ was a cluster of trees and benches lining two walkways. These benches were beds to the foul smelling, oily-bellied piles of boots and sleeves that were some of Milan's homeless, often trouserless, rarely conscious. In order to get to a little playground with a wooden boat structure in it, where I would go in the evenings to smoke my joints and feel melancholy, I would walk down this isle, dodging bleary catcalls and errant pigeons, avoiding the dog-walking perverts who would whisper hungrily.
Many evenings I reached the park embarrassed, in twilight. I climbed the rope web that led up to the 'deck', and i'd sit around and listen to music and feel desperate. My feelings confused me, and then I was confused by my confusion, and despite or maybe because of the ample attention I got from the slack jawed male population of Milan I felt ugly, despite my large bedroom with the high ceilings and comfy bed I felt hard done by in some unsettling way. 
I wasn't tuned in to my constant state of morphogenesis in my environment; in retrospect I understand how developing in an unequal culture breeds instability and an unsound mental state. Growing and becoming acquainted with life is challenging, and doing so in a hub of structural-systemic prejudices and double standards is often traumatic. What's it like for a flowering young mind to be bombarded with material glitz and poverty, to gradually make that understanding somewhere that the maintaining of one's abhorrent, consumerist lifestyle is causal to the the suffering of others'? How is one to become a well adjusted adult when one is born into this perverse civilisation, the foundations and manifestations of which appear to be so concrete and unshakeable, imprisoning our imaginations? 
I guess a lot of us feel like we have no choice but to allow ourselves to become institutionalised, rather than face the fact that we do not live morally complete lives, and that the competition-infused rhetoric that has been woven into our understanding of the world is destructive and dysfunctional. 
The option we often do not realise we have is to lay down our vanities and to begin relinquishing the liberties we have been taking at the expense of our global community. 
But with our imaginations held captive by trauma, it isn't easy to envision the possibilities of a cooperation-based society in which gainful employ can be found outside of a monetary framework of reference. As the Joker said in The Dark Knight; "Nobody panics when things go 'according to plan.' Even if the plan is horrifying!"
In my understanding of reality, the moment calls for inspiration, through empathy. I have been fortified enough through my empathetic experiences to embrace new tools with which to interact with reality, and this has revolutionised and improved the quality of my life.
I hold that a real revolution is when foundations are toppled and new systems are built from scratch, not when one spokesperson for apologists for greed and fear gets executed so that a new one to take their place. The value system remains, only to manifest itself through a slightly altered mass psychosis, and there is no revolution, just a bunch of scrabbling at gates and head rolling.
Everybody I have met can recount some traumatic childhood experience, usually several. Nobody has ever said to me, "Yeah, I had a really great childhood, no form of abuse or neglect or playground violence" and not been in denial. If we can't stop traumatising eachother from birth how can we relax enough to interact with are friends and lovers in a meaningful way, to empathise?
I feel our culture needs to update and upgrade its understanding of communication, agriculture, economics; we as a  race have the need to evolve past the draconian perimeters syphilis-addled megalomaniacs established in the early 1900s, and pull ourselves out of the dark ages. 

Monday, 5 November 2012

Music as a Tool Through Which to Express Interpretations of Realiy.

Inspiring bit of music, enchanting and eerie compilation of clips from Venice at Carnivale. Reminds me of the winters me and my mom would go to visit friends and my dad's tomb (on the Isola San Michele). Beecham said, 'The function of music is to release us from the tyranny of conscious thought."

I brought this up with my mom yesterday, a hardcore music junky, and she expressed wonder at the irrational domain we enter when we give ourselves over to the enjoyment of it, mentioning the calculated, mathematical aspect of music.I guess it does seem a little paradoxical, at first glance, that something so precise can evoke such abandon. But it doesn't surprise me; what's likely to solicit a raw response more so than an earnest and sincerely committed expression of worship of vibration?

We are in a constant state of vibration ourselves, as organisms, vibrating with each other and our environment. Blake is the person who first introduced me to thinking about morphogenesis, a term which describes the evolution of a body structure within a taxonomic group. He suggested applying this term to the give and take nature of humanity's interaction with its environment. The give and take, influenced by our surroundings as our presence impacts them. Constant vibration in our perpetual symbiotic exchange.

Music is a tool through which express interpretations of that reality.

Sunday, 4 November 2012

Wiped Out and Dumbed Down: Vaccines and Structural Insanity

During his appearance on Zeitgeist: Moving Forward Gabor Maté discusses idealogies and how their uselessness can be harmful, and that rings very true with the information pharmacutical corporations and hospitals supply us with regarding the treatments they sell to us.

Flu season is just around the corner, and it typically stretches through the early spring. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) is recommending that everyone older than 6 months get their flu shot.
During the 2011-2012 flu season, 128 million people in the U.S., or 42 percent of the population, received a flu shot, according to the CDC. That's close to the 43 percent that were vaccinated the previous year.
CDC officials estimated flu vaccinations last year prevented 5 million cases of influenza, and 40,000 hospitalizations. 
(Taken from 6 Flu Vaccine Myths by Karen Rowan in LiveScience.)

Well, actually, in clinical trials, risks of hospitalization and wheezing were increased in children younger than 2 years of age who received FluMist (a vaccine indicated for active immunization for the prevention of influenza disease), caused by influenza A subtype viruses and the type B virus contained in the vaccine.
So the article opens with a series of empty statements. The statistics they cite come from tests paid for by the pharmaceutical companies promoting the drugs, so they may as well have opened with "We've done a lot of good shit. Take it from us." 
Notice that CDC crops up four times in the article, the credibility of official CDC approval is being milked to emphasize the credibility of the vaccination. Of course what does CDC get paid to do? Control and prevent disease, okay, so under what circumstances would the corporation stand to lose significant profit? It would stand to lose profit in a healthy society. So you could say, and would be right to say, that it is in the CDC's professional interest for people to be in demand of medicine. Outside of a monetary framework of reference, this would have no negative implications for society at large. However within our current socioeconomic system in which we have structural poverty it is inevitable that we will see an increasing inclination for cost-cutting, because no one wants to be at the bottom. 
This fear of being at the bottom has prevailed over generations, and along with the compound effects of inequality on people it has prevailed over morality and over science, and in many cases we have seen it hiding behind the disguise of morality or science.
Here for example, instead of studying the possibility of natural remedies or least sincerely conducting experiments into creating medicines, I'm seeing the opposite: an industry in which pharmaceutical companies earnestly guard their own grossly inflated financial wealth by haphazardly combining various chemical compounds and market them to a willing public after careless and more often than not inconclusive testing, resulting in a very sick population. It's not medicine, it's genocide.

In its 1968 yearly report, the Rockefeller Foundation acknowledged funding the development of so-called “anti-fertility vaccines” and their implementation on a mass-scale. Soon the Foundation’s efforts began to have effect. In its annual report of 1988, The RF happily reported the progress made by the Foundation’s Population Division in the field of anti-fertility vaccines:

“India’s National Institute of Immunology successfully completed in 1988 the first phase of trials with three versions of an anti-fertility vaccine for women. Sponsored by the government of India and supported by the Foundation, the trials established that with each of the tested vaccines, at least one year of protection against pregnancy could be expected, based on the levels of antibodies formed in response to the immunization schedule.”

And yet these institutions kick back in the glow of our blind trust, and the propaganda continues to become even more ridiculously, brazenly manipulative; "You would do anything to protect your baby," simper giant colourful posters plastered to the walls of the hospital where I am due to give birth.

A large-scale scientific study in approximately 50,000 pregnant women and their infants over five flu seasons found no difference in the risk for developing influenza illness among those who received the influenza vaccine during pregnancy and those who did not receive the vaccine. Reviews in the medical journal The Lancet found a lack of health benefit of influenza vaccine for children under two and significantly increased rates of vaccine-related adverse events in children. Now pregnant women are constantly told that high levels of mercury are potentially very damaging to our  fetus, but many seasonal influenza vaccines contain mercury, from the preservative thimerosal, in amounts exceeding the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) recommended safe levels.

Still pregnant women and mothers happily, willingly contaminate themselves and their children. What I'm talking about is a docile ignorance so complete that reality is severely distorted. 

you know?
Information isn't just restricted, it's tampered with. So the context with which one relates to reality is a fabrication, this is damaging to one's relationship with it. One's relationship with reality now grows inorganically, artificially, and that has extremely dangerous connotations, because one is continuously putting one's quality of life in unnecessary risk.
One doesn't have control over how one understands and interacts with one's environment. One's knowledge of what one perceives as harmful or beneficial to oneself and one's loved ones is based in misinformation.
'It is the work of the devil to pervert the word of the Lord." One has a situation in which one's reality is being perverted, a situation in which entire populations are being wiped out and dumbed down in a fervent insane rush towards the zombie apocalypse. It's almost Biblical. Poisoned crops, mutated children, plutocracy, institutional theft, structural classism and structural violence... All symptoms of our slavery, of our trauma, as a race. We don't know about free will, we're not understanding what's really going on. 

And until one asks oneself, What matters? 

That until that day / The dream of lasting peace, / World citizenship / Rule of international morality / Will remain in but a fleeting illusion to be pursued, / But never attained.

Wednesday, 31 October 2012


Some of Blake's tweets that resonated quite deeply with me;

Democracy. The flying spaghetti monster of political fundamentalism. Another zombie idea, conceived by cavemen, overruled by nature. Democracy, the demented kid brother of Kleptocracy. Both screaming abortions of the debt vortex. Democracy means government for sale.

Think about these sound, thoughtful statements in comparison to some of the utter yang we hear advocates of the concept, which is really just a collage of paradoxical insanisms, spout so charismatically. America seems hung up on "democracy." Democracy is one of the last straws this bath-salt guzzling wildebeast is clutching madly at as it slowly thunders to the ground.


My point really is, unity won't be reached through variations of coercive systems hiding behind buzzwords like "democracy", unity will be reached when Earth's inhabitants declare Earth's resources the common heritage of all its people. Politics are irrelevant when it comes to the fundamental well being of the human race. 

Tuesday, 23 October 2012

Balance in a monetary-based economy

I'm sprawled out across the sofa, at around half five Tuesday afternoon, watching the pemier for the new Bond movie Skyfall with Blake livestream on YouTube. Outside, the eerie East Anglia suberban Autumn draws towards a wet dusk. On the screen, the camera pans across the huge throngs of Bond fans, dizzily shouting and screaming at the camera man, or moving absent mindedly to the iconic Bond tunes blasting over several megaphones.
Golden words he will pour in your ear
But his lies can't disguise what you fear
Some gape in vague ecstasy, others fire high screams and jubilantly falsely familiar smiles into my livingroom, their arms extended yearningly. Daniel Craig's face has been printed onto peices of card and laminated; young fans hold these up to cover their faces when they notice the camera on them.
I turn to Blake; "If humanity ever does evolve in the... Resource based economy direction... Which is such a lazy way of refering to what I mean... But if we ever do... We will look back on this and cringe."
Blake reminds me that although I shouldn't get taken in by this sort of thing, my quality of life will decrease if I allow my repulsion to blind me from percieving and enjoying other aspects of this and similar events. This resembles a discussion we shared when we watched 2012's closing Olympics ceremony; me wincing, Blake calm, fascinated.
"The clothes, the expressions, people, the propaganda..." He's able to watch this charade and enjoy the fact that so many people are united in mutual appreciation for a work of art. He remarks on the absurdity of celebrity worship, but his remarks are devoid of bitterness. What an O.G.
The man with the midas touch
A spider's touch
Such a cold finger
Beckons you to enter his web of sin
But don't go in
I think one of the reasons I real so disgustedly is because I haven't fully committed to understanding my perspective. Let me try here. Only within the last year have I learned to recognise the dysfunctionalities of human culture; zen master Blakey has discovered, been inscensed, and accepted.
"You can't let it drive you insane," he says. Balance. "There are millions of live, beating hearts gathered there."
Seeing people shed tears and rejoice for one of the movies which I would say best epitomises glorification of the corrupt British secret service which is fucking with us hardcore off screen, watch them cheer one of the instruments of their captivity, irks me. I'm reminded of one of my later acid trips, what I felt when I turned to my friends and watched them roll on the floor stuffing their faces with junk food and smoke faster than they could spew them out in delerious laughter. Willing slavery! But not freely willing, since we don't actually have a clue what's going down.
These friends of mine suffered addiction to junk food, narcotics and their own egos, and they are also soulful, compassionate and funny people. Living organisms, enjoying themselves. 
I look at them and I see not both sides, but the whole.

Is non-violence a sustainable and functional commitment?

Is non-violence a sustainable and functional commitment?

Think of weapons of mass destruction, what results do their use ultimately have? Ultimately, none. If I were to build the most potent, most powerfully destructive weapon, it would be the weapon that destroyed everything. Everything, including itself, it's creators, a whisper of any memory of what had gone before, or any hope of anything to come after.

The best way to interact with one's environment is scientifically. If we are scientific in our approach to reality, the quality of our lives is improved. Our accomodation is secure, our diet is balanced and healthy, and our boilers come on and off when we want them to. The quality of our relationships is also improved, because sincerity is needed in order to truthfully communicate.
Think about it. If we designed a value system in which various contradicting and weird ideologies were deemed key components, and then wished to see it take to a civillisation, we would have to dogmantically implement it on a society by integrating it in all aspects of the status quo. In no other way would it stick, because it's not fundementally beneficial for a community to adhere to an architectured value system. Even if some ideologies present within this system are seemingly innane, like 'Pink is a nice colour', it still oppresses creativity and prevents genuine interaction with the colour pink, and with any other colour. Pink being a nice colour
We would have to integrate this ideaology in the status quo using tools of manipulation, such as advertising and other, more insidious forms of propaganda. We would be left with a society founded on coercion, in which inequality and confusion were structural components.
So we need to interact with eachother scientifically! We need to base our decisions on whats working at the time, go with the flow, instead of stunting our evolution! And  we have to have ballance, also, fundementally.

I think that science is defined by being the best tool with which to interact with reality,

If tools are defined by their design, then it follows that creation is the superior force. Rather it follows that creation is true, and destruction is the absence of force.