Oh ye of very little common wit
who proudly displayest thine ignorance,
over whom the untold wealth of wisdom
passeth as the shorebird o'er endless seas.
Be'est thou sated by such dearth as this?
For even gentle breezes doth confuse,
and produce questions that one need not ask.
Despite thine vacuousness thy voice rang,
and marred mine ears irrecoverab'ly.
such insult I hath ne'er experienced
yet not at thine words, which bore feather-weight,
but for the impetuous gallantry
which a being such as this canst deserve.
Oh ye darling of very little worth.
Departst hence before your ass gets hurt.
Love is patient, Love is kind
Love is fucking all the time
Love is comfort, Love is warmth
Love is smoking on the porch
Love is hatred of the past
Love is time moving too fast
Love is getting in the way
Love is talking every day
Love is waiting in the car
Love is kissing every scar
Love is making sure you're healthy
Love is laughing with your belly
Love is healing your mistreatment
Love is giving what is needed
Love is closing open doors
Love is needing nothing more
Love is doing all the dishes
Love is absence filled with missing
Love is consistent, thoughtful choices
Love is recognizing voices
Love is swallowing your anger
Love is understanding patterns
Love is hoping for tomorrow
Love's not over when it's sorrow.
I can see the sun coming up.
Shit, I'm gonna be tired.
With questions like this, I tend to form my opinion as I write, I like to start of by outlining my understanding of the topic at hand. This is a marker for me to measure the resulting thought spiral against in order to see whether I'm on track.
Eugenics is the proactive limitation of human autonomy by way of selectively eliminating aspects of the human condition that are deemed by some higher power to be unnecessary or distasteful. Selective breeding, and a racist, ableist, ageist and sexually prejudiced philosophy which funnels the human capacity into little boxes made of ticky tacky doing nothing more than looking pretty and moving rocks.
I think the most disturbing aspect of Aldous Huxley's Brave New World was the fact that even though, to the reader, the society outlined in the novel is a disturbing dystopia which utilizes human capital in order to progress the arbitrary continuation of human life while systematically breeding out any sense of desire or purpose in people, everyone that partakes in the society is happy to do so, even if they are among the lowest, most deformed classes.
Smiling drugged up faces, state sponsored orgies, and the opportunity to get out without being killed or brainwashed if you decide it isn't for you.
It's frightening that this sounds like a desirable way of life to me.
But I'm no nazi, man. I can see how and why we should be disturbed and feel conflicted by the novel. I know the human potential is boundless and beautiful, the diversity of thought and aspect are so endlessly interesting and sweet to the taste (and often on the eyes). I think sometimes my freedom is overwhelming and is the root of many of my insecurities.
How easy would it be to be assigned a purpose at birth and to love every second of whatever it is I am to be doing. Then one day, I'm coming out of the top of a smokestack powering the breeding machine that will make my cousins.
Isn't that efficient? Isn't it proper? Doesn't it offer the most satisfaction for the smallest cost? Why the fuck are we here at all, man?
Not to say that BNW is a probable eventuality, or even a possible one given our sensibilities and desire for the natural (state supported) self-actualization of all earth's people. But it's still a scary thought that we could get there?
Are we facing a social eugenics? Are social media, cancel culture, compelled speech and restrictive moralist ideologies doing the same thing to people that genetic manipulation might? Changing everyone to fit into boxes of right and wrong through a perfect system, a litmus test that determines a person's worth by their opinions and how they express them?
Is that system a way of protecting those who need to flourish and disallowing the tide of society to continue to move in the same directions it has since the beginning?
I really don't think there is an accurate enough narrative to make a strong enough opinion.
Just don't fuck with my DNA, man.
are we asking the right questions?
Can it really be considered overpopulation if we got to where we are naturally? Cities and skyscrapers are man made yet stand as natural parts of the landscape, just as the beaver dam or the anthill. We don't question our cities though they are relics; connections to the past designed to form the future, existing in the present often as roadblocks to progress.
I believe the idea of overpopulation stems from misanthropy, a general hatred of humanity, which is a fear of death manifested into cynicism as a way of protecting the psyche from the harsh reality that we all eventually stop breathing.
Overpopulation is not a thing. Human beings are intelligent enough to get where we've gotten, and now we are noticing the fact that the ways in which our ancestors have developed society no longer has the ability to sustain the mighty need of our population. As it stands at 1:32 PM on January 13 2022, there are approximately 7.9 Billion individual human beings living on this planet, all of whom require food and water, love and kindness, purpose and pain, in order to stay alive. Our system cannot provide this to all of them. We are overpopulated insofar as human society is unable to conveniently cover the costs of its continuous creation of human beings.
The entire human population can fit uncomfortably within the borders of New York City. Imagine a world where 7.9 billion people exist comfortably in a landmass the size of the United states. What would need to be done to achieve that? Imagine how amazing our infrastructure would look if we based our designs around such a massive population. Imagine how freeing it would feel to live in a world where the Human Being bases its progress on moving forward in new directions, rather than evolving out of the ever more complex primordial methods.
Too big to fail isn't a thing either, but I don't think it means we have too many lives.
I wonder if the world's leading creative minds ever sit down in a truly novel and creative intention to bust the walls down. The futurists of the past (I'm thinking Disney here, all anti-semitism aside) were unafraid to speak each fantastical idea as though they were writing the narrative of the future of humanity like an episode of Star Trek. I wonder if people en masse are capable of breaking free of the preconception that it must always be the way it was in order to ensure happiness and survival. I wonder if people will crumble under the weight of their own misguided responsibilities.
I wonder if science fiction has made me an idealist.
the act of picking flowers
I love you so much that I killed a living being and presented you with it's corpse.
It's a beautiful little bloody thing that you'd appreciate
of course, I thought of you when I committed murder
there's no better way to express my fervor toward you.
This plant-based passion delights all your senses
bright red pedals, so delicately scented,
wrapped around a thorny stem and set inside my hand,
and when I look into your eyes you know that everything expires.
Everything except the love that I feel for you,
which extends its existence by feeding off the death of lower things,
including other interests I may have, and both our bodies.
The process was slow -
eggs and chickens from ashes,
so now we have both.
Allow a man his misery, if that is what he chooses
he is justified in his pursuit of self destruction
so long as he contains it away from those around him
and is only noticed subtly by his friends and loved ones.
Allow him to drink and smoke and sleep 'till noon,
do not question why he decides to stay inside all day
give him room to kill himself the second he decides to
it's selfish, yes, but equally so if you try to stop him.
Allow him comfort in all of its demented forms
so that self imposed parasite might gnaw on his festering mind
and feed itself on energies he can no longer recognize,
he traded them for blindness too long ago to fix it anyway.
Allow a man to do as he pleases so long as it pleases him,
so long as it keeps him in line with his own worth
so long as it helps him get feel something,
so say so long to him who you thought knew you.
Allow him that at least.
It's hard not to see life as a narrative, which makes me feel like I'm doing everything wrong. Do you ever feel like you've got nothing to contribute? Like even your best efforts aren't enough to scratch the surface of your own misery, let alone the problems of the outside world?
This may come off as dark or brooding, maybe a little defeated, I don't know.
I don't understand how everyone isn't in despair all of the time. How people can live 30, 40, 50, 80 years on this earth and still find some motivation or reason to wake up every morning. What keeps people from falling to their knees and crying
"I've had enough" before committing to addiction or death?
This is true, thick, unexplainable misery. And the fucked up thing is that, outside of the death of my Dad, my life should be a privileged romp through professionalism and intelligence. And so I feel wrong for being miserable.
Maybe I'm not eating right, maybe not moving enough, maybe nicotine withdrawal, maybe disconnection from God, maybe grief, maybe I'm not where I'm supposed to be, maybe lack of discipline, maybe I have no passion, maybe I'm depressed, maybe I need meds, maybe it's other people, maybe it's not my fault, maybe I am genuinely worthless.
I noticed today that with the exception of 2020, I remember feeling justified in the proclamation that "this has been the worst year of my life" every year, since I was in middle school. Does that say something? I'm sure I'm not alone in this, but I'm also sure that this isn't everyone's experience.
Are some people meant to bear the most misery? Is that how we achieve compassion on a societal level? With little landmines of broken lives trying to make themselves and the world better without actually seeing the progress, just so that they just keep doing it? Keep trying to improve, and make better, and be kind, and avoid pain, and stay alive.
I dunno, it's just a bad day I guess. Not too much else to say about it.
you are at war with yourself little one.
notice how the stress affects your body.
can you feel the tension pulling inside you?
do you see how different paths lead to the same ending?
you can feel so many different things,
the least of which revolves around your joy.
so many times in life you'll find
that you cannot be satisfied,
that is how we have come so far.