Posts Tagged ‘rant’

Searching for the 100th Monkey

December 2, 2010 Leave a comment


I’ve had several battles to rid my life of monsters that I deem unworthy or monsters who were phantom masters pulling my strings. For a long time I bought into things, bought the right things, and followed right along getting in line like a good sheep. Lined up and freely offered veins for the vampires. The monsters kept me in the fence even though my mind was a rebel. This was done in trade for some sense of security. Some sense of you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours. A lot of times your back doesn’t get scratched. On those days you look for a gap in the fence, as the grass is greener. When you do crossover the fence under a flag of peace or surrender you come to see the same monster with a line of the willing, waiting. Go ahead, get in line. Top down control is working great so far. Right?

Call me a paranoid, call me a rebel, call me whatever. I recently caught a documentary about a guy named Michael Ruppert. In it he talks about the topic of peak oil. He talks about the link of that oil to nearly facet of everything we do today. He then goes into what happens after the peak. There’s a lot of charts and talk on prices but the root is that the current system is not sustainable. It will fail simply due to the fact that the fuel is finite. I’m no math wiz but I can see when it costs more to get your energy you have a problem. All that aside he made some great points on when it happens, what needs to happen to make sure “we” are ok. He put great emphasis on community on local resources. This is lacking in our globalized economy. His example was Cuba. Yes, Communist. Yes, poor. Starving, no. They don’t have big agri, they are encouraged to grow food on the rooftops. The globalized tiers ensure the top a stream of resources, remember those vampires? His other observation was that of the Titanic. On the sinking ship are 3 types of people. The panic freaks who are useless in a crisis, the ones who will build a lifeboat if you show them how, and the ones who go sit in the bar because it’s the fucking Titanic and it was unsinkable. Which group are you in? Seek out the lifeboat builders in your life.

Finally we get to the monkeys. He told a tale of some nuked islands back in the day. Scientists wanted to repopulate the wildlife and do their studies. They chose monkeys for this. In the back of my mind I suspect these monkeys are lab rats but I digress. Due to the radiation the scientists thought it would be helpful to teach the monkeys how to wash the food they found. They taught 2, those 2 taught a few more and so on. Time passes and groups of monkeys wash their food and some don’t. More time passes, the old teach the young. Once that knowledge which was saving their lives reached the 100th Monkey, the entire group washed their food together and this was now instinct among all monkeys. Surround yourself with lifeboat builders.


The Edge of CW

June 24, 2010 5 comments

I asked, quite randomly, on Twitter if people felt like lone wolves due to eating primal? Here are the responses:

AND THEN there was this guy:

And a few more responses:

Categories: blogging, paleo, primal Tags: , ,

Into its maw, our tithe.

May 31, 2010 Leave a comment

All our shadows were razor thin when it was set a fire. Bipedal sundials gathered at an altar. We huddled in its light and secretly wanted shade, despite that scarcity, we communed, while it fumed. It hissed its satisfaction and bellowed wispy plumes.

We offered flesh, hard fought and meager. Into its maw, our tithe. That debt paid, its light grew chaotic and made smoke to rise. Our offering was suffocated in flame. On the upward flying column, white tinted gray, scents pricked our noses as notes hit our ears. Like the hunter glassing a kill our gaze and postures aimed by instinct.

Pulled in magnetically, our emptiness needed destruction. The line fell into a circle, maybe more of a knot, tightening around the prize. The altar, finished with its sermon of fire and smoke, gave the remains to its followers. Our knot closed. Our commune, in unison, appeased our emptiness.

One wonders, doesn’t one?

May 30, 2010 Leave a comment

On afternoons, still and humid. As a large darkness breaks the horizon. Gray and blowing. A baritone rumble announces some intent.

The rest of the world is silenced, capable of no worthy response. The rest of the world’s been overtalked.

The rumble moves across the distance. Gray and blowing. Gifting me with silence. Its next breath a repeat, a demand. Look upward and know you are small.

Joy in your size, in the scheme of things. Joy in the thought that perhaps a cosmic occurrence lent itself to the gray and it voiced its gratitude in a deep baritone wave.

Categories: minimalism, minimalist Tags:

In closing of a day.

May 22, 2010 Leave a comment

The brightness of the sun fades behind the horizon. No movement in the air, it’s very still and humid.

I feel small taking note of the planetary motion.

The setting sun narrated by the distant hum of far away cars and birds. It’s better than TV.

Categories: blogging, rant Tags: , ,

For Five Days I Didn’t Invite the Vampire In.

May 13, 2010 2 comments

I drove to work in silence. Just the noise of my tires on the pavement and my thoughts. I take the long way too. On my commute I can hide from the hunters.

The first couple of days I kept checking the readouts like they were broken. I even reached for the knobs and quickly put myself in check. The reminder of the onslaught from the time I wake to the time I go to sleep, is enough.

The constant high volume and all the spots in between that try to rip a slice off me. I’m kind of done giving myself over, the greatest power I gave the vampire was the invite in.

A few more days in and the sight and sound of them causes an aversion much like oil and water. My need has lessened but not their hunger. Water to a fire.

My weapons to offer the beast

May 5, 2010 4 comments

I peered out the window to see the monolithic beast spreading across the world. Barefoot, I walked to it, across the field, in ankle deep mud. I reached out to connect, for a second like the apes in 2001, I expected some enlightenment. Instead, splinters and bruised hands.

Taking up arms, in an effort to aid encroachment. I began to get in step with the task. My weapons to offer the beast, simple sweat and hammer and nails. Slowly the rhythm takes form, at first off tempo, just to get the aim true. The targets, like flies on carrion, so many. Tiny metal daggers begging to be driven home into the heart of the beast. Each hammer swing completes their journey and starts mine.

Each hammer swing sends echoes across the field, like the far away crack of gunfire. Five or six in quick succession, then the silence. Only long enough to pick another and do it again. Each repeated session adds another piece of armor, another division, another wave of echoes.

The form has become logical and dual in purpose. To keep in or to keep out. A conscious decision to separate and contain. A method to conceal and allow freedom. A boundary to border our imagination. A backyard privacy fence.

The process, somehow therapeutic. Despite the growing tension of my muscles, the tension of my mind is decreased, dissolved with each swing. With each swing and the insured impact that follows, a bit of fog clears in my head. A bit of angst tempered down to cool blue from a hazardous red.  A bit of bullshit goes null.

The sun sets and I carry the new empty spaces in my head to bed.

Categories: blogging, rant Tags: ,