The little bites in life seem to start a thought process. Do we really occupy a sense of power in the world as a dominant species?
We all seem to maintain a universal hatred for at least one of life's troubles. The minute little devil that flies around in the dark screaming to get a taste of your blood. Nobody likes a mosquito, in fact I'm pretty sure everyone hates a mosquito. Statistically the parasitic little critter is the most dangerous animal in the world, killing over two million humans every year. I say this as I scratch three separate bites on my left arm blissfully ignorant of the potential of Africa's number one predator. Fortunately I don't live in a malaria ridden part of the continent but for those that do, a mosquito bite is more than just a "scratch away."
Now that we have established a hatred for the little blood suckers think about your position in the world. Next to flies, human beings are regarded as the most destructive creatures on Earth. Global warming, deforestation, the green house catastrophe; it's all relative. The global meat industry produces over 257 000 000 tonnes of beef and over 40 000 000 000 tonnes of chicken annually in what has become a capitalist drive of genetically produced animals. Now thats a lot of kill power!
It goes beyond the basic need for food, our perceptions of the world is a selfish one. Based purely on our intelligence and power in the world we seem to have developed a sense of entitlement and righteousness, to exploit our surroundings in an instinctual motive to become "better". What scares me the most is our ability to eradicate a species in our approach to survival. Close to 300 endangered rhino's have already been killed in South Africa this year based on superstition and materialism. A combination of genetic pollution, habitat degradation, and severe predation have left us in a powerful position of a selfish existence.
Don't take this up as a protest against humanity or a call for vegan enforcement, merely have a look our predisposed understanding of natural order. If you have a problem with that, just scratch away the bite.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
Dig deep
A good friend once told me that inspiration only ever hits at the most inappropriate of times. Unfortunately I found this to be true and so here I sit like a crazed writer diseased with insomnia and buzzing on over doses of caffeine, trying to convert this itch of an idea into words. It's a bizarre sensation; wanting to say something without knowing exactly what it is.
Fortunately there is a method behind this train of thought; "The Stream of Consciousness." William James coined the term to explain certain literary and psychological devices that the human mind experiments with. It's unbelievable that just by writing spontaneously, one can pull some great thoughts out the mystery of expression. Virginia Woolf, regarded as a pillar of modernist literature, is famous for her experimentation with the Stream of Consciousness. She seemed to dazzle and even frighten literary critics, seemingly displaying the potential of human expression.
So here I am still, now though with a firm grasp on whatever got me to sit down in the first place. Each one of us has an expressive little goblin waiting to gnaw his way out and spew inspiration all over the place. Sadly a lot of the time we choose to ignore that artistic side that I believe in encompassed in development. So I say to finish; art (in all creative shapes and forms) is the sub-conscious expression of the human's understanding of a twisted reality, never ignore that.
Now that wasn't so hard.
P
Fortunately there is a method behind this train of thought; "The Stream of Consciousness." William James coined the term to explain certain literary and psychological devices that the human mind experiments with. It's unbelievable that just by writing spontaneously, one can pull some great thoughts out the mystery of expression. Virginia Woolf, regarded as a pillar of modernist literature, is famous for her experimentation with the Stream of Consciousness. She seemed to dazzle and even frighten literary critics, seemingly displaying the potential of human expression.
So here I am still, now though with a firm grasp on whatever got me to sit down in the first place. Each one of us has an expressive little goblin waiting to gnaw his way out and spew inspiration all over the place. Sadly a lot of the time we choose to ignore that artistic side that I believe in encompassed in development. So I say to finish; art (in all creative shapes and forms) is the sub-conscious expression of the human's understanding of a twisted reality, never ignore that.
Now that wasn't so hard.
P
There’s the culture wall…let’s hide!
In a time of political tennis and racial ping pong, it seems like a popular trend to brand someone a racist, sexist, fascist, or “cockroach” of supremacy.
Anything you say can and will be used against you under the mask of democracy. ‘Freedom of speech’ has become such a vague concept that one really never is sure when the great border of discrimination is being crossed. Fortunately for the lapdogs of controversy we live in an age rich with heritage and beefed up culture. It makes us who we are, culture is part of history; embedded in our character whether we choose to embrace it or not.
The ambivalence of a “reborn” post-colonial nation creates a type of expediency in the way we operate. It’s disturbingly convenient to rest on ones culture, in situations that “the Other” would find inappropriate or offensive. From this one gets subtle or overt racism, sexism, tribalism, or even xenophobic behaviour. Differences create misunderstanding which leads to fear, and fear is something that brings out the worst in people. Primitive isn’t it? To think that instead of moving forward and celebrating human autonomy and individuality we continue to grow apart. I dream of the day when a nation wakes up and realises that the age we live in is in itself an evolution of culture, a constantly transforming aspect of life. A culture cannot be defined solely on appearance and history, we seem to be forgetting the influences of a developing (in some regards) society.
Why must it be so difficult to embrace a new world evolutionary character? Fear, the source of much distress and cultural dilemma in society. Only when we get over this childish fear of change can we shunt the growth of a polarised nation. Scrap the fine line between fear and reality, embrace culture; don’t hide behind it.
Anything you say can and will be used against you under the mask of democracy. ‘Freedom of speech’ has become such a vague concept that one really never is sure when the great border of discrimination is being crossed. Fortunately for the lapdogs of controversy we live in an age rich with heritage and beefed up culture. It makes us who we are, culture is part of history; embedded in our character whether we choose to embrace it or not.
The ambivalence of a “reborn” post-colonial nation creates a type of expediency in the way we operate. It’s disturbingly convenient to rest on ones culture, in situations that “the Other” would find inappropriate or offensive. From this one gets subtle or overt racism, sexism, tribalism, or even xenophobic behaviour. Differences create misunderstanding which leads to fear, and fear is something that brings out the worst in people. Primitive isn’t it? To think that instead of moving forward and celebrating human autonomy and individuality we continue to grow apart. I dream of the day when a nation wakes up and realises that the age we live in is in itself an evolution of culture, a constantly transforming aspect of life. A culture cannot be defined solely on appearance and history, we seem to be forgetting the influences of a developing (in some regards) society.
Why must it be so difficult to embrace a new world evolutionary character? Fear, the source of much distress and cultural dilemma in society. Only when we get over this childish fear of change can we shunt the growth of a polarised nation. Scrap the fine line between fear and reality, embrace culture; don’t hide behind it.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Living in a world of fabricated meaning
Yes, another entry by someone with a little too much time on their hands; a person who enjoys defending bad opinions for the sake of an argument; a person who questions the boundaries of normalcy just to establish some sense of abnormality in behaviour... Perhaps this is a bit much, but as far as me being a person questioning what society deems normal or not? Yes, it happens every now and then.
In a completely stereotypical post-modern manner let me start by asking; why are you alive? Most would have an almost immediate answer defining their existence broadly in religion, spirituality, capitalism, love, or family, to name a few. While we find comfort in these and other “pillars” of meaning, do we truly find definition or are we too afraid to explore the limits of our existence? I have found some comfort in the fact that our existence is about finding meaning for life. What I do not find comforting is the possibility I may never know the answer to that! After all in a world of seemingly non-linear and chaotic behaviour, one never knows when the old Grim will have his swipe at you. Human nature dictates that we are afraid of dying, it’s as normal as breath. Human beings have also found ways to ignore this fear; be it the belief in an afterlife, reincarnation, security, or superstition. All this ads to a basic need for the human spirit to be placed into or create a meaningful reality. But what if that reality which we hold so preciously was already created out of an illusion to begin with? Staying away from the Wachowski brother's science fiction and with some deliberation you might just find yourself questioning the levels of normalcy which you would otherwise swear to. Consider for a moment your life, daily rituals, job, involvement with money, or moral values. Everything we use to carry out our lives is as a result of some or other instituted progression, be it parenting, culture, law, superstition, or religion. What we fail to consider is the individual autonomy of the human spirit which defines our character! Living with the right to freedom of "choice" is restricted in a great pool of societal norms. If our standards of meaning in life are defined according to false autonomy in a pool of societal norms, how will we ever know the ultimate potential of human existence?
While you mull over this, remember my thoughts are within themselves autonomous, I am merely attempting to start a thought within you.
”I think we have to own the fears we have of each other, and then, in some practical way, some daily way, figure out how to see people differently than we were brought up to.” - Alice Walker
In a completely stereotypical post-modern manner let me start by asking; why are you alive? Most would have an almost immediate answer defining their existence broadly in religion, spirituality, capitalism, love, or family, to name a few. While we find comfort in these and other “pillars” of meaning, do we truly find definition or are we too afraid to explore the limits of our existence? I have found some comfort in the fact that our existence is about finding meaning for life. What I do not find comforting is the possibility I may never know the answer to that! After all in a world of seemingly non-linear and chaotic behaviour, one never knows when the old Grim will have his swipe at you. Human nature dictates that we are afraid of dying, it’s as normal as breath. Human beings have also found ways to ignore this fear; be it the belief in an afterlife, reincarnation, security, or superstition. All this ads to a basic need for the human spirit to be placed into or create a meaningful reality. But what if that reality which we hold so preciously was already created out of an illusion to begin with? Staying away from the Wachowski brother's science fiction and with some deliberation you might just find yourself questioning the levels of normalcy which you would otherwise swear to. Consider for a moment your life, daily rituals, job, involvement with money, or moral values. Everything we use to carry out our lives is as a result of some or other instituted progression, be it parenting, culture, law, superstition, or religion. What we fail to consider is the individual autonomy of the human spirit which defines our character! Living with the right to freedom of "choice" is restricted in a great pool of societal norms. If our standards of meaning in life are defined according to false autonomy in a pool of societal norms, how will we ever know the ultimate potential of human existence?
While you mull over this, remember my thoughts are within themselves autonomous, I am merely attempting to start a thought within you.
”I think we have to own the fears we have of each other, and then, in some practical way, some daily way, figure out how to see people differently than we were brought up to.” - Alice Walker
Dreams, Nightmares, Mystery. 1
I woke up one morning at exactly 05:55 AM in tears and lying in a cold sweat of my own panic. Struggling to suck in some air I gripped my chest to feel that my heart rate had increased to an abnormally frightening pace.
I don’t often experience dreams, mostly because of my erratic sleeping behaviour. On the odd occasion that my awareness does decide to tap into the grey energies of my soul the outcomes are generally the same; nightmarish visions. My dark fascination and fear of the existence of supernatural energy seems to come through in sleeping patterns, and it goes without saying that an unjustified power over my sanity creeps in. What baffles me about recurring nightmares is that a lot of the time in an altered state of consciousness I am aware of my sleeping body. This has been called lucid dreaming and supposedly gives one the power to control and manipulate the environment in that state of mind. Well if that is the case, give me the power to wake up and I take responsibility gladly!
During the early hours of the morning on the 14th of July 2010:
Imagine a classic scenario of good versus evil, think of the possibilities of a dark force attempting to take control of your body, close your eyes and dream of the struggles that any normal person would have with the idea of this materialising. Well this seemed to be the case at the start of my three part hell-fest. All this time during my “battle” with supernatural fears in my psyche, a small comforting angel voice in the back of mind whispered; “wake up Phil, you’re just dreaming”, to no avail though as it all continued for what seemed like eons. Smaller details seem to stick with my memories of that night; I noticed at 00:45 lights starting to flicker, the shower’s taps opening, my mother present in the dream burning her left hand under the tap, and hearing the strange yet distinct sounds of the left garage door about 50 meters away opening and closing. This probably sounds like a classic case of paranormal, over told, psychedelic bull – shit for any critic, understandable, but stop for a second and think of how vivid and symbolic these trance-like experiences are. Once you realise the level arbitrary terror and surrealism that one actually lives through during dreams and nightmares, can you not be open to the idea that all of what we know about the human condition remains a dark mystery to science? As a cherry full of bludgeoned terror on top I watched, in my dream state, my own mother break into a evil fit of panic. A symbol of love, kindness, and safety in anyone’s life was biting and scratching at her son pleading for whatever it was that had possessed her to stop!
Upon waking up to the uncomfortable comfort of my bed I took a few minutes to make sense of what had just happened. It never is pleasant waking up under abnormal circumstances because it takes your mind, body and spirit some time to adjust to the reality that what you have just seen and felt is in actual fact some form of an illusion. For the times that I have woken up to this type of experience, there was enough emotional trauma to know that something wasn’t right. Hell if anything I felt comfortable in the fact that the maybe universe was trying tell me something; expressing it through the dark energies that we bury deep in our façade of existence. Take it how you want, but just remember that maybe there is much more about our interconnectedness with all universal energy and matter than we know, and for some reason our sub-conscious expression comes through about how twisted reality is. For now I’ll continue living by the idea that we are afraid of what we don’t understand. How about another coffee?
I don’t often experience dreams, mostly because of my erratic sleeping behaviour. On the odd occasion that my awareness does decide to tap into the grey energies of my soul the outcomes are generally the same; nightmarish visions. My dark fascination and fear of the existence of supernatural energy seems to come through in sleeping patterns, and it goes without saying that an unjustified power over my sanity creeps in. What baffles me about recurring nightmares is that a lot of the time in an altered state of consciousness I am aware of my sleeping body. This has been called lucid dreaming and supposedly gives one the power to control and manipulate the environment in that state of mind. Well if that is the case, give me the power to wake up and I take responsibility gladly!
During the early hours of the morning on the 14th of July 2010:
Imagine a classic scenario of good versus evil, think of the possibilities of a dark force attempting to take control of your body, close your eyes and dream of the struggles that any normal person would have with the idea of this materialising. Well this seemed to be the case at the start of my three part hell-fest. All this time during my “battle” with supernatural fears in my psyche, a small comforting angel voice in the back of mind whispered; “wake up Phil, you’re just dreaming”, to no avail though as it all continued for what seemed like eons. Smaller details seem to stick with my memories of that night; I noticed at 00:45 lights starting to flicker, the shower’s taps opening, my mother present in the dream burning her left hand under the tap, and hearing the strange yet distinct sounds of the left garage door about 50 meters away opening and closing. This probably sounds like a classic case of paranormal, over told, psychedelic bull – shit for any critic, understandable, but stop for a second and think of how vivid and symbolic these trance-like experiences are. Once you realise the level arbitrary terror and surrealism that one actually lives through during dreams and nightmares, can you not be open to the idea that all of what we know about the human condition remains a dark mystery to science? As a cherry full of bludgeoned terror on top I watched, in my dream state, my own mother break into a evil fit of panic. A symbol of love, kindness, and safety in anyone’s life was biting and scratching at her son pleading for whatever it was that had possessed her to stop!
Upon waking up to the uncomfortable comfort of my bed I took a few minutes to make sense of what had just happened. It never is pleasant waking up under abnormal circumstances because it takes your mind, body and spirit some time to adjust to the reality that what you have just seen and felt is in actual fact some form of an illusion. For the times that I have woken up to this type of experience, there was enough emotional trauma to know that something wasn’t right. Hell if anything I felt comfortable in the fact that the maybe universe was trying tell me something; expressing it through the dark energies that we bury deep in our façade of existence. Take it how you want, but just remember that maybe there is much more about our interconnectedness with all universal energy and matter than we know, and for some reason our sub-conscious expression comes through about how twisted reality is. For now I’ll continue living by the idea that we are afraid of what we don’t understand. How about another coffee?
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