On a positive note, everybody’s talking about the people waking up. It’s exciting. The Internet lets us see stuff. “They,” the spillionaires and their governmental henchmen, continue to do this oil gusher so wrong, so flagrantly wrong and with so much fail, that everybody’s pissed.
There’s also a lot of negativity and fear floating around (in our heads), but it’s important (for us) to remember that the Dark Side always runs proportionate to the grand breathtaking beauty in the world. For the moment, humans (including us) wrestle with the old-world ways of acting on behalf of an egoic need for drama and scarcity, when abundance is all around, even if hidden.
Jingoistic non-issue hype about flags and “terrorist” tales — it’s what this country has come to run on. Or soon used to. People are waking up, really, for real, we can feel it. (No you’re a hippie. No you are.)
We the People are — and are not — realizing We the People haven’t lost anything if a mosque lands on an exposed nerve or a man marries a man. Nor will words and flags be the real issue.
We have lost some measure of wildlife, culture, property, beauty, river, marsh, sea, home, vibe, peace of mind, way of life, indigenous populations, and mojo down in the Gulf Coast, and we risk losing it all.
It’s a fortune-teller’s crystal ball for the rest of the world, too, where we are facing a crucial prospect: wipe out all semblance of infrastructure and watch the house of cards fall just as the land reaches its tipping point, and the corporate-poisoned mongrel government becomes the enemy and we have no weapons, information, basic amenities, or other methods with which to feed and defend ourselves.
“They” wave emotional issues in front of our faces and slide their slimy black tentacles deeper, indiscriminately, into every orifice, waiting to contract and squeeze the life out of us. Red-rover squabbling and useless conniptions serve only to divert attention from the men behind the curtain. If you think Barack “Hussein” (Whatever) Obama actually runs anything, you need to think again. You need to have a Coast Guard gun pointed in your face on behalf of BP.
Some people in the Bayou we met, as well as the more conservative of our family members, believe that the big O is a straight-up terrorist, fomented via secret correspondence with Kenyan … uh, terrorists, who fought the world’s most kickass superpower, slipped in via the more flaccid members of Congress on the Dem side, and somehow successfully pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes but Joe the Plumber and Mama Grizzly.
Tinfoil hatters, on the other hand, believe Obama is a CIA operative from a family of CIA operatives, who was shoehorned in the Oval Office the same way “Tim Osman” grew a beard and took a video camera into a “cave-like atmosphere” somewhere in Saudi Arabia near his rich parents’ house. Somewhere in between is the truth, and we won’t see that on TV either.
And right-wingers — Republicans, if that’s your thing — swallow Fox News’s blue pill and feed their irrational fear of scarcity. And liberals — Democrats — whatever you want to call them, they’re just going to wait and see, and write letters and sign petitions and wait and see some more, like a frog in a pot of boiling water.
And those of us too disgusted with every label to throw ourselves behind anything, well, we rant on blogs and bang heads against walls, praying to the gods that we can break something open and/or come up with something new.
There may be something to the idea of the “feminization” of America, due to various elements like birth medication, glyphosate, growth hormones, nonylphenol ethoxylate, and soy products. All we know is, We the People in this day and age have no balls and no teeth. An emasculated nation led by a testosterrific cabal of macho grabby sociopaths is never a good time.
Hopefully, though, we’re in for a “Revenge of the Nerds” scenario. Hopefully, when the military and the federal government run out of bad lies and crazymaking answers, and the hoi polloi become too overwhelmed with doomsday media hype — too maladapted to their sedentary lifestyles to move off the couch ever again — the “indoor kids” will step in and save the world.
this is what a normal Kemp’s Ridley turtle looks like at this age
It’s exhilarating and exhausting to participate in the information exchange of The Now. Curse the time-suck, thanks be to the constant schooling, and secret praise to the titillating pictures of the glorious, non-biased, all-seeing Internet.
We span and scan from left to right, and rational to irrational, but we try not to get addicted to the information or internalize it to the point of making ourselves sick. We can’t even remember what life was like before the Internet — except that most towns boasted at least two newspapers, who both welcomed rivalry in the name of freedom of the press … and reporters actually investigated stuff.
Gulf Coast activists all keep the hurricane of information going, but it’s hard to move forward when we possess none of the Gangster Party’s tools or money. And we’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, in a way. Unsure of how to be proactive. That’s worrying. To us. Comforting, to “them.”
And now it seems the plankton are dying in such droves that they wash up on the beaches like flossy tumbleweeds of hair. And the oil-eating microbes are having a hard time digesting this oil because there’s Corexit in it. Read about it and, proud geeks, please tell us if we’re reading it wrong:
BP Slick: Material washing ashore from Perdido Pass to Petit Bois Island not oil
Nobody can eat when their food is covered in a foreign solvent. Now some nerd is going to have to invent a nano-microbe that eats THIS micro-poop.
And we’re guessing — well, we don’t have to guess, look at these sea-turtle photos ffs — the Corexit-crude blend the little swimmy-things are dining on this season could be causing them to mutate, or die early, or catch the cancer. The smallest critters in the sea are now eating poison and mutating, out there in the ocean, right now.
No reason to get down in the mouth when the world’s going through a tumble. It’s a challenge. The solutions, the neener-neener moments, will happen in ways nobody expects. Via some form of nerdosity, we’d wager.
Just like social networking. Boom, all of a sudden, here we are, with most of the computerized world signing up to stake their claim as autonomous entities in the ether. Murdoch sank his claws into the Myspace, the touchy-feely Creepy Sex People took over Tribe (admit it), and other than Facebook, we don’t know anything about online gatherings.
Millions do. They lead alternative lives — slaying dragons, growing farms, simulating cities, and soliciting 2-D sex workers online. Nobody gets hurt, no carbon footprint is expanded, and folks get their darker ya-yas out in private, via simulation and not real action, because your brain doesn’t know the difference, even if your heart does. And you get to keep in touch with people over vast distances, in an instant.
Facebook seems like the Ring that binds us all, right now, but that could change. The only thing which seemed constant is that the Internet would now, always and forevermore, be there for us. So, naturally, “they” are making sure “they” retain control, by threatening to shut it off.
So now that’s another thing we have to prepare to live without, then. Let’s hereby take a moment to enjoy and appreciate it, and to wholeheartedly thank those who build and run and maintain it, this world without distance.
It represents the ultimate American ideal of true capitalism, where there is no man behind the curtain. Maybe we’ve got it wrong here, but we thought the Internet was invented to be a non-controlled entity that morphed and grew on its own, as it saw fit. That’s what we want it to be. Forever.
Who are “they,” anyway? “They” are a lot of people, and nobody. “They” are a phantom and an actuality at once. “They” could be a series of random coincidences or a grand machination, depending on your worldview. This murderous “Wag the Dog” side of global death-cult entertainment is what concerns us now. “They” aren’t directly responsible for Idiocracy — but “they” will gladly prune and exploit it at every turn. A corporation is too big to have a heart, and it does not care if you get fat, stupid, poisoned, or dead.
We find out horrible truths via the glorious Internet, which fills in all the holes the victors dug in actual history, and speculates in every conceivable direction. We fact-check if we really need to, and take the rest with a grain of salt.
We are masters of our own domain on the Internet, which is what its creators intended. We make our own decisions on the Web, uninfluenced by anyone we choose not to be influenced by.
Sometimes the Internet can feel like an octopus stuck to our face. We don’t have a home or an address at the moment, and when we find a place to land long enough to stare into it, Iweskip the gossip sites and head for the Spacebook Feed of Previously Withheld or Undiscovered Facts.
It’s so alluring, all this knowledge. All these crackpots and geniuses. We come out the other side armed with answers and questions, feeling like Keanu Reeves downloading kung fu into the back of his skull. We’re thankful for that instant flue to a galaxy of information so vast and eternal it couldn’t NOT scare “them.”
The other half of the equation is figuring out how to go outside and use the material world. So we suck face with the octopus and then we walk away to go play outside a lot. But at least we know the octopus is still there, always there.
We don’t want “them” to be able to kill the octopus. That’s OUR octopus.
LINKS ABOUT DEEPWATER HORIZON OIL GUSHER INSANITY:
ABC News: Coast Guard investigates if firefighters helped sink the Deepwater Horizon rig
UK Guardian: BP Oil spill — a Louisiana tragedy (excellent)
Developing: Feds admit formation may have collapsed around bottom of wellbore (which we done said happened long ago!)
Truthout: New outrages keep gushing from BP (dude, Big Oil gets its ass kissed like a big sultan gangster by the US government – freebies and credits and tax cuts and subsidies everywhere, while southern Louisiana reels from a possibly terminal blow — why is that?)
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