Skip to main content

Posts

"There have never been a Revolution without a starving mass"

Politics that advocate taking power is doomed for failure, and toxic, maybe!   In  Snipers in the kitchen ", @MonederoJC examines the failures of the leftist movements across Central and South America. He talks about how centers of power, which are very much intact after a populist leftist movement takes power, align to undermine and defeat the leftist project. "Snipers" he refers to are these institutions; mass media, the judiciary, police/military, and of course, the market forces -- the capital, and their minions, the traps laid in every corner of the house. The 21st century repeats are only a stone's throw away from where ever one is, from Syriza, Corbyn, Chile to maybe whatever the whole left-progressive thing in the US was ? At the end of the day none of these movements garnered enough momentum to make a dent in the power structures that they fought to defeat. I think we are much deeper in 💩 than just not having powerful popular institutions though (i.e The Ma
Recent posts

A smiling toddler..

  Getting ready... To be dressed up in light and shine, Gift wrapped tears at her feet, For a week of a festive funeral..!

Free Will, And the direction of Collapse, The

🚬 was good! But was it? Am I better than? A break, a swim around the lake,  With thoughts, with clouds...  Done better than that, could I have not? ⚠️ But It's all physics, right! ... right? I am but some star-dust. Dead, a long before.. But am I? 🚫 🙊 well what would that 'I' do, Next? This bunch of gore and light! Well, 👆 is all just Physics,  ⚡| ➡️ ? I mean I feel that I am, Like I feel that I choose! But why , you say it weak , when that's  all that I am? But is it. what. I. am? Can 'I' be not, but i be conscious? Can that not be what 'real' freedom is? But would that not be free (the) will, But not be free-will?  So maybe 'I' must exist for free will, but not free will, for i But what do I know of a life without, So pardon me, for the halts,  - by 'I'

Gut: Drink a lot of fucking 💧

☝ Probably the most I learned thanks to the grad-skool! or maybe just during it; Irrelevant. I also learned to think rationally, to dissect things -- to break apart (to fix later, of course, but not always..), to extract, (ideas,) while reducing the world to the smallest parts that help explain most (and making order of magnitude assumptions, of course, but not without loosing part of the truth). Maybe what I was taught to do, in essence, was to understand the 🌐 with fewer theories. The more data you reduce to information, the easier you can process other data; And even predict the future the best way possible, thus being able to change it. Change in which direction though? We certainly take that as a fundamental question of our studies. (in humanities, I assume). Arguments about morality; Can we tell the right direction of change, even if we synthesize all the data we have access to, to the most elegant theories we can come up with? Like should I smoke now? Yes! Again? 🍃

3D Reality

Crossed rivers, blocked canals, an island marching to death and drought, Undug wells, more pipelines, and black gold warming up a continent. brrRaining $Ss, in a long winter, frozen on mountain tops, Assume you'd see, all too real, from a cozy health resort. It's the bird's eye view, from far above, for masters in high orbit, Far too close, too much fog, though, not for the peasants below. So many souls, many more droids, Too much noise, the hum of flying drones. Watched in surprise over starlinked cities, Yet in silence over the desert of wells. Let's flatten all unto a screen, 2D. Easier to navigate! Invaders bad. Dictators crazy. Patriots duty, A Molotov cocktail. And a vote in democracy (F̶o̶r̶ ̶a̶ ̶m̶o̶n̶a̶r̶c̶h̶, I̶n̶ ̶d̶e̶c̶l̶i̶n̶e̶.) An emperor's council, comedians, warriors, And a flying circus beating drums. Here are the directions! Quite simple, you'll see! Work. Drink, dance, snort! Maybe sing and barely eat. The red lines, better not cross, And be m

Where and What

Pain and depression, Sadness and melancholy! Which is where?   The dust, the tears, bodies lined up.   The darkness, emptiness, the yearning for a home. One calls for an action, through fire or water! It push and pull and hurt and burn..!   Anger, at those who soar the skies,     Spreading tears and covering with dust,     The souls below.   Tears, of respect and camaraderie,     That nourish the seeds of tomorrow,     Tomorrow, a dream, a hope, a call for a search.     Of a path. The other is persistent.   Demands no action, but acceptance.   No path forward, you only walk back,   Step back, forward!!   Looking at a past. Past?   Covered in dust,    Overgrown with moss.   Somewhere in the darkness.. A void.. A source you cannot see... Yet you know, feel, Were,   once the brightest of stars,   once the gentlest of moons. Are,   The sparkle of truth,   The real, eternal.

🌿 car sans the Bluetooth ®️

📻 "I feel too bad for all those who,     "left too early [at the game] yesterday!" ".. pshhhh [smh]" "Missed that ending..." Well, you should feel bad..! ..     For not trusting,     The America they promised you! Delivered! It's actually not that *** You see..! 🤡 Let me play some uplifting music..! [well, let us get payed  first] " ... To the peanut 🥜 festival ..." " Get your tickets today!" ( ; ♭♯♭ They sound like from x0??? ... ... Well, today! Like almost, a part of the resistance, Though somehow with, lack of heaviness. ™️ "I wanna dance with you..." "I'll be dancing on the flames ... Tonight" - Lady GaGa But how? 😈 You're on 🔥 "Easy money, 100$ for YOU to take home" ... "On Monday" ♯ ♭ ♯ "So much for my, Happy ending!! - Avril

Hello!

 I speak, but do I say? I say, but do I mean? I mean, but do I believe? I believe, but do I feel? I feel, but am I? I am, but am not I

Resiliant Capitalism

Why is capitalism so persistent? Is it the plasticity in capitalist ideology which allows absorbing it's own contradictions by way of reforming them in capitalism's own root image -- patriarchy --..? Prioritizing individualism in the capitalist economic system has forced the society to delegate social responsibility to state, which is a hierarchical mirror of the top down economic model. This has allowed the state to absorb these contradictions (need for both  be controlled by capital itself through politics. Faith , which is tied to religious and spiritual experiences, is replaced by an irrational faith in rationality itself, and has elevated money, as a token, to the role of a deity. God, but god that only care about our "productive (material)" labor. And since a lot of our social interactions have become stressful (for a billion reasons,) capitalist alternatives are built to help us socialize without the need of a real society -- real society where interactions

No anarchy in progress without fun,

And love, For all, The, Forgotten..! 

When Justice is Flames..!

When reality becomes absurd, The crazy becomes the norm. When peace become oppressive, Violence become salvation. And when white reflect only darkness, The colors will light up the path. When the red roses are sold and resold, The rocks and bottles will be distributed freely. When the history is being erased at the schools, The future will be plotted and written in dim-lit alleys. And when so much blood, has spilled unjustly, Justice itself, will be hungry for roaring flames!

Joker is REAL!

[From a free-writing entry where I was trying to write about anger, which evolved into thinking about the movie Joker. Posting after I saw this news , seems only relevant...] Joker, yes, joker! I should watch it again. My initial fascination with it centered around it's portrayal of Joker as becoming completely himself. Real, in contrast with the rest of the society who are merely responding to the world, or are either following or reacting. There maybe be a deeper philosophical thread that I'd like to explore, but probably don't have the proper tools to unpack. However, recently, I have started to feel that another reason I really liked the movie, and also one of the reasons it being heavily criticized by the elite media, was it's portrayal of the society (not just the Joker,) in a more realistic way. A realistic craziness and anger! Like, shouldn't we all be angry and mad by the atrocities committed across the globe? Shouldn't we be crying for our brot

A hope far away!

Heyy, Look! The beautiful land, across the bay! Long, wide shores, and shallow white beaches, Lush green vegetation and blue rolling hills, The majestic oaks that spread invitingly, to build a tree house up near the canopy. Why not wonder, What mysteries might lie ahead. Misty waterfalls and cold swimming holes, Slippery mudslides and swinging vines..! And quite possibly, hidden cliffs, and poisonous snakes, And maybe even, dark witches and angry ghosts! Let's raw this boat across! Sure, it's got holes in the stern, Nothing we cannot fix, though, with some care! With some love, patience and of course, blessings of a decent weather. Coz, you see, I got some tools, and you got more, and our laughs and screams and tears, together, might just get us there! Yes! It's a bit scary, The boat could be more sturdy. And it's true, the opposite peer, does seem a bit far, Yet, it's quite some distance, we have trekked to where we are! And I know, if you are tired, it is only far

War on the floor

Dance! Slide your feet across the floor, Jump up, Dip down, Bang your head, Till your hair frees, And cover your face. Go into a trance! See the lights, the battle, Giant machines pulverized into pieces. Like broken lives, Headed in every random direction, Racing, towards stars unknown. It's a war, raging in space, Of only metal and light, And darkness. No flesh or blood. Soulless! Far, From the blue oceans, Green mountains, And concrete jungles. Far away, From your home, Your bed, From the sensation of her lips. And far away from the amazon locker that says, "You have 40 seconds to pick up your items." At 192 beats per minute. Collect the pieces, before they drop. Ditch, the double-spaced bullshit! Fuck, the ten-minute breaks! Burn, the envelopes with lines in RED. Blow up the ships black and hazy grey, Torch the stripes and stars in space and get ready! Drop! It's war again. Peaceful, and Serene!

Over the Atlantic

I stood in front of you, On a dimly lit cobble street, Under the gaze of a stranger, A friend, A friendly stranger. We stood, not too close to each other    that your breath would touch my skin,    whishper in my ear,    Or breeze past my chest hair. But we stood not too far from each other,    that I could still see your green eyes,    even under the dim flickering light,    and feel,    layers of happiness, guilt, freedom, gratitude,    Sorrow, ambition, strength and love. And we stood still.    Not too close that the scent of your hair,    the scent of you,    would overwhelm my senses,    Conjure up memories,    Of waves and white sand,    Rocks and Rivers,    Yoghurt and yeast,    Of Screams of excitement, and screams of frustration,    Or of Cigarettes and sex. But we stood not too far,    that I could still touch your freckled face,    with my fingers hiding under your hair,    That under a rising sun, once, looked

Pickup the trash

Don't push it! Words will appear, and disappear.. You glimpse a thread, and pull it towards, Hoping to weave a tapestry, With vibrant colors, Or darker hues. One moment you see it all, You feel it!! Next, It's dark. Empty... Like a room full of stuff. Living stuff! The desk, the chair, And a shirt hung, that we once shared. A closet, A bed, A trashbin, and the flowers placed right above. Flowers that are dry, and weeks old. But their purple color is very bright, still. Against a wall that's empty, and white. I kneel, pick up the lone peace of trash, The carpet is clean, Now. It's a scrambled white paper. A receipt, From one warm evening! For a pair of cold ice creams. I toss it into the trash, beneath the flowers, Whom you know, Will soon follow. It will be clean, then, And empty, truly. I will open the windows, Hang colorful tapestries, Nail soulful paintings, And place flowering succulents, I will try, To fill the void, L

Sing to me..!

Words that pour, From the lips on fire, Melodies that ring, By the fingers that dance, Smiles that breath life, Through the eyes gleaming with light, And love that captures, with a heart that's open wide, Will concur time, and space.. across oceans, across borders, across the phases of sun and moon.

A River flows to the Ocean..!

From misty mountains, Through steep ravines, Around massive boulders, And over the green plains, A river flows to ocean. River, A unity of tiny droplets. But does it? Do they? You could be picked up, Find yourself in a bathtub, Playing with a smiling toddler, Then discarded into a garden, And end up in a Luscious mango! Or, End up in the veins of a person, Strapped in to a chair, And watched by a panel who, Would solemnly mark down, The time of their last breath! http://www.bradmarshallart.com/lethalinjection.htm

Amon Goeth in Schindler's list and pardoning the devil.

I finally watched it. I was attached to the movie the full three hours, was deeply disturbed by the imagery of the real events that was happening touched by the show of humanity and ended the movie with tears. Great movie... Yes! (Though, it wasn't a great movie, no. I want to write about that too, on a different post). While there were many scenes that are brilliant in many ways, one act puzzled me very much and I think was just pure genius. That is the scene where Amon Goeth kills the boy who was cleaning his bathroom bowl. Here's the last part of it... In the outset the scene portrays the devilish commander killing an innocent boy who think he was pardoned. But I think the scene goes far beyond that. It shows how Amon exercises his new found interpretation of power, power to pardon, in its ultimate sense by pardoning himself. Showing that he finally truly understand the meaning of power, the ultimate power yielded only by God, to pardon a person as villainous as he is

Fighting the Imaginary Demons

I wanted to write more comprehensively about the video I posted a bit ago where Zizek was claiming that Hillary is in fact more dangerous than trump. But like many other things I consider doing, I know I will never get to that, so thought I'd clarify some of the thought that went behind my agreeing with Zizek's argument -- to a certain extent, at least. So, this is just an outline of what I think, and in no way a proper argument, since, well, this is not an argument where I bring facts and examples. Though you are welcome to look more into the idea if you are interested. Also, keep in mind that this is exclusively coming from somewhat Marxist perspective. Hence the end goal is creating a classless society by building strong coalitions among the global working class First, here's the (video)[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4v...]. My argument related to the video is that Hillary represents a real problem which perpetually creates the likes of Trump, and hence liberals&#