Slumber

You who fear death,
Know that you fear,
For the best reasons.
Who among us can step,
Fearlessly, faultlessly,
Uncaring and heedless,
Into utter, endless darkness?
Raving Madmen. Fools.
And the dispossessed.
You fear death for that,
You stay alive for something.
You love, hate, and hurt.
And for this you live.
For this you do not die.

You are wise to fear death,
And to bask in your livingness.

Why Manson Was Wrong

This post might seem about on my faith in God, but it's really about my faith in people. If you're offended by my faith in God, or my faith in people, you can go fuck yourself.

Jesus once said this:

"Love your enemies"

And Marilyn Manson then said this in response:

"If you are taught to love everyone, to love your enemies, what value does that place on love?"

That was paraphrased, but that's the crux of what he said.

I don't think he's any more or less worse than any other celebrity. Some of his music is pretty cool, but I wouldn't call myself a Manson fanatic. He's a Shock-Rocker. He aims to make a scene. He's made a lot of money out if it.

The problem with your view Marilyn, is that it implies that when you 'love' in the sense you are talking about, you loose a certain amount of love each time you do it. That isn't the case. If you are generous with kindness, which is really what this is about, it encourages the growth of kindness. Love begets love.

If you hit a dog once, hard, it becomes afraid of you. Do it a few more times and you start to fuck up the dog. And soon you have a horrible snarling monster that bites and barks at everyone that approaches it.

If you treat a that dog well, it might become a nice animal once again. It might not. But it doesn't hurt to try, provided you put a muzzle on him.

And if you are kind from the beginning, then it won't happen at all.

People are no different. If you are good to someone, regardless of whether or not they are a dick, it won't ensure they'll be nice to you. But it won't hurt your chances. And it won't make the world a worse place.

But being horrible over again? That will. And then what? What have you gained by refusing kindness to everyone?

I'm not saying you should let people walk all over you. I'm saying you shouldn't walk all over people.

It's really not that complex.

My Facebook.

What I see when I look at my Facebook news feed most of the time (just the statuses):

I'm a whiny bitch.

I'm a whiny bitch.

I'm a whiny bitch.

This status doesn't make sense!

I'm a whiny bitch.

Some song lyrics!

Genuinely amusing.

I'm a whiny bitch.

Some song lyrics!

This status doesn't make sense!

Some song lyrics!

I'm a whiny bitch.

Topical discussion on something I may care for.

I'm a whiny bitch.

I'm a whiny bitch.

A close friend saying something I care about.

I'm a whiny bitch.

This status makes no sense!

Some song lyrics!

I'm a whiny, whiny, bitchy bitch. Love me or I'll cut myself.

Pride In A New Breed

I'm getting older.

So are you.

So are we all.

Slowly, but not slow enough.

Are we worth all this expense?

Is our sharpness, or keenness,

Our wit, our stings,

And the mastery we built,

Is any of it worth this?

This dying earth,

These crushed things.

Bent in the dirt.

Will these cities outlast us,

Will a new race of man look up,

On a new, green day,

With flowers sprouting through asphalt,

With strange new mammals,

Galloping through empty urban landscape.

And sunbeams shooting through clean air,

Will there be the ruins of skyscrapers swaying,
Hollow for a thousand years,

In the breeze of a better time?

Will the shells of cars rust in the dawn of a new age?

Will there be grass again?

Will the seas be blue again?

Will the earth heal?

Will the life come back,

Will the breed that comes after us,

Look up and out and around,

At the ruin of the old world?

Will they be better?

Will they outlast their cities,

And their star?

Would I be proud of them?

What are we breeding?

Will they learn from us,

As we didn't.

Make everything Ok

http://make-everything-ok.com/

Tear Down, Build up.

Most boys of any age like to see stuff blow up. It's a truth universally acknowledged, and hard to refute. Hey, when cars explode, it looks cool. I don't know why. It just does. The process of making that car looked cool to. The metal shaping, the welding, the magnificent production line that churns out cars at an often alarming rate. Damn cool looking thing.

The act of destruction can be something beautiful. Every time I see the blossoming rose of the atomic cloud with Vera Lynne singing along at the end of 'Dr Strangelove', I'm touched. The wonder of its power is breathtaking. Terrible, certainly, horrifying in its use on human beings, to be sure. But still... It's almost magical to see.

The act of a child being formed in a womb disturbs me. That such a complex, specific and potentially world-changing form could be knit together in such a small amount of time startels and frightens me. But nonetheless, it is fascinating too.

Creation and Destruction are human concepts. It is the way of the world that to assemble something you must disassemble something else. In truth, I find greater satisfaction in the making of something good, than the end of something not.

One can do many things in this life. But a cause for maintenance, healing and crafting is greater than one of senseless hurting. I say things all too often here that, while mainly true, are bitter, saddening, and cynical. But I always feel better when I encourage. And I seek to plant this seed of hope in you now:

Build great things, with the power you have, whatever that talent is. Let the things you would destroy, destroy themselves. If they are as bad as you think they are, they likely will. At the end of the day, the muscles the power your movements will loathe you less, and love you more. I know you can do this, because I know there is good, enough, everywhere.

It is its own reward.

Things.

Currently, I have the following things in my pockets, or on my person, not including the things in my bag:

Smartphone
Wallet case for smartphone containing various cards of proof, currency or entitlement, some cash and receipt for girlfriend's ring.
Swiss army knife, connected to small key ring with two keys.
Greek worry beads.
Sliver snuff box containing ten hair ties and a thirty two gigabyte USB thumb drive.
Brass spyglass.
Small jar of White Siang pure balm.
Portable gaming console.
In-earphones with remote and microphone.
One handkerchief.
Packet of extra chewing gum.
One steel band watch.
One ring.
One pair of dark sunglasses.