The Three Tenets of Existential Terrorism

Words are not things or actions. They are vibrations of the air molecules or squiggles on a page. Mistaking words for reality is the mistake that puts politicians in office and sells all of the products, religions, and systems of government on the planet. Saying "Tree" is no more a tree than saying "I love you" means that someone loves you. To perceive reality as it is, one must accept that words are a vehicle for the transference of our perception of reality, not reality itself.
God is dead. I killed him (it, them, her, et al) on November 5th, 1991. Justifiable Homicide. The idea that the universe is run by some cosmic supra-hero concept of ourselves is absurd and unproven. The idea that the creator of the universe put us here in these bodies to satisfy some moral experiment is offensive. The God question; "What are we doing here?", may or may not be valid. At this time, we are here because the physical laws of the universe are not completely against our existence. Our short time of consciousness would be far better served ensuring our survival rather than posturing before some misanthropic cosmic deity.
The only government, the only rule of law, is economics. However our societies are structured, whatever religion or ethnicity, we have all decided that those with relatively more assets have better lives than those with less relative wealth. All measured value is economic value in this system.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

neural cleansing



30
I remember all to well these things:

the summer shade of an orange tree,

the winter sky at night,

the feel of blue denim cotton.
Some are renewed on a regular basis,

others,

I hold inside for safe keeping.

The rest have been lost like a child's mitten, or they have died slowly.
At night, so quiet, a promise that stands in waiting to be kept,

fulfilled,

and brought to light.

I pass and smile in courtesy.
Promises and dreams and hope and aspirations crowd around me when I have time to spare.

A book of poems will not allay their voices.
I think I will take or leave them as I choose.

Smiling, when I walk with a careful step and wondering if a memory is a wonderful thing to lose.
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