 There are golden non-negotiable rules when it comes to men’s world. Look straight ahead when hanging out at a public urinal, don’t grope, gape or gyrate near on or around another’s wife, don’t under any circumstances thieve a duck farmers ducks.
On the Island of Bali, one of thousands of Islands located on the Indonesian archipelago, ducks take a back beak when it comes to favourite feathered things. All things on Bali must have some form of economic utility. Nothing is free therefore value is a complete focus of life. Cocks are top bird and many can be observed preening and pulsating after vigorous public stoking from their dedicated and devoted handlers. A strong well trained fighting cock can bring in a lot of money and afford their owner heightened prestige and popularity. In a patriarchal society such elite non paper currency positions are very important and advantageous. Such reputations and accolades are also a valuable ego addition, an emotional aphrodisiac. But ducks have their place, as all things on Bali do. So, when Mary the Bali dog, emanated her breed’s tell-tale distinctive low growl, followed by a rapid high pitched bark, it was obvious an intruder of human or otherwise was in the vicinity. Nothing really that unusual on any given night but on this occasion the intrusion was unusual and deadly. Mary was right on the danger but no one thought more than it was just another alert. However the rice paddies were being invaded. Rice paddies provide a living for Balinese ducks. They are an important link in the organic chain and they are a valuable asset. They most certainly have economic utility. After harvest time a duck farmer brings his flock of ducks to the paddy. They then spend the day clearing up old pieces of grain and eating insects that would destroy the next rice crop if left alone. The ducks follow the farmer home at night, keeping an eye on his piece of cloth tied to a big stick. Balinese ducks cannot fly so their only chance of escape is to waddle as fast as possible as a group or have the protection of their owner(s). That first night 50 working ducks were taken and even though the farmer had penned them off for security and safety, their perimeter had been savagely breached. As morning broke suspicion and conjecture rose rapidly. Someone or something must be blamed and Mary the Bali dog was most certainly being looked at as a perpetrator. Her innocence was strengthened due to her bark tight alibi and the obvious inability for even a very smart lokal dog to eat or hide 50 scared waddling ducks. Remnants of the dastardly deed were unfortunately left strewn behind. Numbers of ducks had perished either from shock or in the violent melee that had obviously transpired. Their carcasses lay strewn and as the tropical sun grew higher the stench of duck death filled the gentle wafting air. Theories began to abound as to the motivation behind such a brazen act. To be sold at market, ceremonial purpose, revenge for seen or unseen actions, act of Gods, marauding packs of crazed starving dogs………… But just as night fell and the stink subsided and everyone drew a breath of less rancid air another 20 ducks were stolen from a nearby paddy. If night one wasn’t serious enough, this latest incursion was enough to start a riot. Luckily for Mary this completely cemented her continued survival and the hunt was now on to find the miscreants who had utilised brute force and disrespectful brawn to rob a farmer of his economic surety. To date no suspects have been identified and no ducks are seen in the paddies. The scent of death has retreated into the soil and Mary the Bali dog is once again free to run with her canine friends. Quacking updates will follow if any news breaks……….
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 There’s so much of it going on that it’s impossible to decipher which one is witch and which one is just a distractive ploy to obstruct our view from that which is clear and present.
Truth has been obliterated, whatever that was anyway, replaced by a reality Hunger Games show that displays our species most base level of destructive forces. The fuck everything up the pole of rancidness is greased oiled and as slippery as a politician’s conference where playing dueling dicks is non-negotiable and penis swordsmanship is the measurement of a successful weekend. There must be something so very sinister in the human DNA that dictates that we must engage eagerly in the hunt or watch salivating from the sidelines. It goes way beyond Schadenfreude or Darwinian reality. It’s a sickness, a cancer that’s destroying not only us but everything else. The very fact that there is an old man in an oval room with opposing thumbs tapping to the world intelligent expletives that consist of rat, witch-hunt, collusion, hatchet job, haters, losers, lowlife, dog, is bad enough. The insane factual reality, that his continuance has created a whole new generation and beyond of followers and observers is a mental level of explosive psychotic overflow. Whichever hunt is on there is an eager audience ready and waiting to pick from a plethora of putrid images. What it says about us as a collective bunch of biological bilge water is probably fairly obvious, unfortunately. Bring on the show and watch the world’s dealers in destruction hunt each other down until the biggest dick is left standing. Then make him swallow his sword. Just leave the rest of us alone.  I actually never ever thought we could kill a planet. Seriously, how could such an infantile species actually begin a process of planetary extinction? Simple numbers ……………….. 7.7 Billion. The current world population is 7.7 billion as of December 2018 according to the most recent United Nations estimates elaborated by world meters Like everything on the ascending trajectory of doom, human population is exploding. 8 Billion (2023) 10 Billion (2055) and up and up………….. WTF will happen and WTF will need to be done in order for our children’s children to basically survive? Future generations will be the first to actually suffer more from having and consuming more than past generations who consumed less and survived longer. This current generation are the first to actually succumb to actual death before their aging parents, that’s completely wrong on so many levels, leave alone nature. How we got here is really not that important, seriously it’s not. It’s like climate change and the endless arguments. It’s here, it’s happening, it’s already screwing things completely up down and sideways. WTF we gonna do about it? Every generation of anything has an instinctive need and burning desire to leave their offspring with a better quality of existence. Well, most individuals, couples, communities, colonies, communities, swarms, nations, etc. However corporations, predators, psychopathic narcissists and the like, don’t really give a thought about the bigger picture, their focus is on self-pleasure, control of others and elimination of whatever or whomever gets in the way. When the love and desire of and for money gave rise to the grand God of all Gods, the extinction of our home planet (Earth) was sealed with a simple printer that made paper Gods of all of us. It’s a psychological marvel and a majestic magician’s performance that has entranced and ensnared us into actually believing that we need to consume vast and unsustainable quantities of everything. Conditioning previous generations into believing that the only way to protect their offspring was to sign on to a programming option that encouraged them to encourage our young to eat it all up and then eat it all again and again was and continues to be the most insidious evil and destructive stroke of demented genius ever. This really is as serious as it gets, however no one really seems to be bothered, tends to happen when toddlers are distracted with corn syrup and shiny trinkets that twinkle then die then renew and shine again. My generation, born 60 years ago, are the last generation to know life before the tech boom and after. We are straddling the ages, we created the conditions for what has exploded, we can’t stop it, no one can, no one will. We are wired for addiction. On a recent visit to America I was at first bemused, shocked, then rapidly scared of what took up most airtime in adverts between programming. A whole nation of humans is bombarded by an endless loop of fixable offerings in the form of tablets, millions of humans consuming millions of pharmaceutical fixers for any and all ailments, raising billions of dollars for legal dealers. I wasn’t shocked by the knowledge or literature. I was terrified by the reality. The reality that for billions more future customers supply will always outstrip demand. Horrified that our collective species is being conditioned to gorge, regurgitate, gorge repeat. That we are all being torn and shredded into individual strips of commodity based numerical loss and profit things. Things that are not human any more, things that are unconsciously being overdosed on what is marketed as pleasure, bought as panacea, ending in death…………  When it comes to what floods our field of vision and what flows constantly from the moment we process light waves and separated bands within the rainbow of refraction; there is endless wonderment and childlike awe experienced in indigos, violets, reds, yellows, greens, blues and oranges.
Our physical world is not only naturally imbued with them, as a species we have recreated them on our view of the world. Every imaginable surface and structure is lathered and lavishly splashed with organic and chemical based colour. Our brains are obviously suited to rejoice in the hues of rich vibrant visions. Unfortunately so much of our worldview is taken up with black and white. Be it position, thoughts, negotiation, race. Most of the time such positioning brings nothing but a crunching full stop to any communication, although it must be said there are certain situations were one or the other is an only outcome. But when it comes to white race - black race, no race has ever crossed a finish line on the track record of such an ugly historical endless event. It really sadly shows how stark, boring and bland our evolution has been when it comes to dealing with such a colourless subject. Unfortunately though, it isn’t about colour at all. If it were, we would be warring over the blueness of our amazing sky, greenness of our lush grasses and yellow skin of our multi flavoured bananas. It’s about superiority. Now more than ever when our planet is totally interconnected, immersed in reflected colours, blended like never before, now is our time to explode away from black skin - white skin. But it’s about superiority and humans excel in being better than other and another. Its racist roots are deep and unfathomed. Insecure ideology continues to drive its continuance into a tinder box future and no matter how distracting the rainbow show is human colour is the main destroyer. Black and white is the prominent colouring of species human. If it was only about colour then we could simply engineer ourselves to be multi-coloured chameleons and rejoice in the wonderment and awe of our abilities. But it’s not about colour, its simply about superiority. It’s about a super race to the finish line, to be greater than them, to hate them, until the end of time. |
AuthorObserving whats real is becoming increasingly difficult. This site is my view, my perception and my commentary on what I believe to be real, from my own unique position. Archives
June 2019
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