Dissenters like me, without festering nutso bi-polar extremism or fattening egos, attempt to offer linkage and facts regarding what the US govt. does, worldwide, ostensibly referred to as American foreign policy. After pivotal 9/11 and the corporatocracy’s instigation of the sloe mo SCOTUS
dismantling of the American #Bill of Rights, coupled to the recent watershed of #Gaza spewing across the worldwide web, our truthbot armada finally left the dock. We are not loaded with bear. We are heavy with purpose, in solidarity.
Somewhere, someone is reading this tome, and it is because we share a goal, a mission, an attitude, and a heartfelt demand to end wars, stop injustice, and build humanity in equality, freedom, and health. The cruddy onion peels and the US govt.’s actual deputation to safeguard dirty oil via a fiat monetary globalization is revealed. The reality is shocking to the Pollyannaish of the planet.
What is offered in social media by those of us beating the tom toms of world wide peace goes against the installed mis-info and misdirected ‘understanding’ force fed to the American public. Those with discerning eyes, some with innate higher intellect and/or flow for higher consciousness, are not fooled by the empire’s malarkey and its piddle stream media hype.
The peaceniks gather at the oasis of Twitter, and Fedbook, and other social media apps to swap right action information and in unison watchdog the madness of the powers-that-be.
For familial and literary records, I do not hate my homecountry (but I do reside in a gorgeous nature country with no military and no nukes – Costa Rica. See prior posts on my blog for a delicate socio-psychological evaluation about human hatred – read self-loathing acted out as species annihilation stemming from herd instinct and negative mind alternation.
The Glenn Greenwalds and Julian Assanges of the world provide an affirming legitimacy for the rest of us, dangling from golden cords, not employed or driven by income or applause. Rather, our pro-bono gush of certainty is emanating from the universal heart.
Enemies pop up. These lost souls are dups of the mental masturbations of the lost cause of human domination by the few. The elite is not to be excused yet under bright lights of analysis the clarity is they are greedy, fear driven, id-bent baby-people. Small souls is a term I learned from someone in Habitat for Humanity. The more is never enough privileged march along in unison; an army of latest in designer cloaks branded by low self-esteem pretended by what is hip this season. Their daily task is to acquire stuff as a fortress to stop any self-awareness or watchfulness while treading within a collective paranoia.
As to why, you and me, and be assured I am preaching to the choir, are separated from the herd and stand on mountain tops bleating the difference of truth, such answers are the purview of a higher power. If you do not subscribe to a higher power, be not afraid or condescending. The sign of bona fide compassion is an individual who doubts religiosity yet thumps love as the universality for the human condition. Some truly need an organized methodology to practice ancient cosmic principles above personalities.
Others, circumspect regarding organized establishments travel the road less hiked.
My delegation is of this ilk, maybe a tad shifting toward anarchy, yet primarily humans whose calling for life is centered in independence and spirituality. My direct connection to my higher power is sober, judicious, and on going. Fear and denial are the defeating attitudes.
Bravery is the tenant of faith. Vigilance is the watchfulness. Kindness the objectivity. Love the willingness. Empathy the acceptance.
Such a recipe is neither new nor flashy. It bops along the roiling ocean of troubled humankind and at high water marks altered by the loving energies of other creatures possibly is catapulted to joy. If we are wary of the bullshit and brush it from our souls, while in the here and now, life is happy, genuinely commonsensible. The quietness of intuition (higher power’s voice) of wisdom leads us along and up our actualized growth chart.
Everyday, I attempt to learn and integrate what is sent along my bio-path. At times, the lessons are bitter and pain nearly overwhelming yet, in over-sentimental faith, I trudge further up the mountain. Lately, discovering other lanterns for peace provides solace. For many a moon, it seemed our sincerity and ranks were thinning, not expanding. Today, I testify, we MAY have turned the incoming tide. Gaza is the watershed.
The article I wrote Why Weep for Gaza the beginning, July 2014, turns out to be not merely a manifesto, but a self-fulfilling prophecy. I am a scribe, not fully cognizant of what I type here on my keyboard. It flows from some well I neither fill, nor empty. Writing is a pleasing way to speak with one’s honed voice and if offered unconditionally at times resonates with a readership. What I keyboard serves as therapy for me, and maybe you. A heap of MSW docs I scribed are stored on a lonely external hard drive. These are too personal to publicly disseminate or just pure caca, yet I keep them as silent mammoths of waning arrogance.
A world without birds, shorelines, seas, winds, jungles, forests, mountains, storms, serenity, views, books, libraries, museums, performing arts centers, and gardens countermands the horrors of bias, species-loathing, and the god awful syllabus left over from the 19th century – the industrialization of the world to power the greedy fucks known as cherry picking ‘natural resources’. Our dumb arse species has no right to steal, pollute, piss on, or drill baby drill. Earth, Pachamama, is a living whole entity part of a larger whole holy being. The curriculum we must learn is how to live as one with ourselves. and with Gaia.
Unless humanity’s agenda does an about face, shortly inside the 59th minute, we will wipe ourselves from the crust of the third rock. How do I know? The birds tell me so.