Yet another parking lot
Ten more minutes gone
I turn the engine off
She say's she won't be long
She said she won't be long
But ten more minutes on
I start the car to get some heat
Then redirect it on my feet
And stretch my back against the seat
As other people come and go
Their cars are there to let me know
I am forgotten on in this spot
This god forsaken parking lot
I check my watch and wonder why
And read a book as fading skies
Cause me to squint and hit the lights
As afternoon turns into night
I start to think, could I be wrong
My time eclipsed, my passing days
In parking lots where shoppers graze
Their faces block the sun and moon
I travel nowhere all alone
In parking lots ten miles wide
Where did she go, will she be long, I never know
Ten minutes gone.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Only to those who are likewise
I am a stranger to myself
And therefore a stranger to others
Friend only to those who are also strangers to themselves
Who accept the pain of change
In whose eyes the contortions of metamorphosis bend
I am alone with myself,
And therefore alone around others
Brother only to those who are also alone
The face in the crowd facing the crowd
Peering out from within, out and about then home again
Gone but not forgotten from themselves
I am sad with myself
And therefore sad with others,
Happy only with those who likewise touch bottom
Mad laughter interrupts their contemplations
Slap-sticks punctuate their darkness like bottle rockets,
Dazzling the wearied minds of the mindful
I am angry at myself
And therefore angry with others
At peace only with those who are likewise pissed at the droppings of herd animals.
The field disappoints with migration patterns of happy campers moo-ing toward oblivion
Released from guilt only by democracy
I stare into the mirror
And therefore see only myself
But also those who likewise embrace reflections
Gathering storms obscure the eye and sharpen the mind
Doubts burn the gut as knotted brows condense truth like tears
And this I see when they appear
And therefore a stranger to others
Friend only to those who are also strangers to themselves
Who accept the pain of change
In whose eyes the contortions of metamorphosis bend
I am alone with myself,
And therefore alone around others
Brother only to those who are also alone
The face in the crowd facing the crowd
Peering out from within, out and about then home again
Gone but not forgotten from themselves
I am sad with myself
And therefore sad with others,
Happy only with those who likewise touch bottom
Mad laughter interrupts their contemplations
Slap-sticks punctuate their darkness like bottle rockets,
Dazzling the wearied minds of the mindful
I am angry at myself
And therefore angry with others
At peace only with those who are likewise pissed at the droppings of herd animals.
The field disappoints with migration patterns of happy campers moo-ing toward oblivion
Released from guilt only by democracy
I stare into the mirror
And therefore see only myself
But also those who likewise embrace reflections
Gathering storms obscure the eye and sharpen the mind
Doubts burn the gut as knotted brows condense truth like tears
And this I see when they appear
Shitty low-wage end game
When
you're 18 years old and you have a shitty low-wage job with no benefits,
you figure it's your responsibility to get a better one. When you're 28
years old and you have a shitty low-wage job with no benefits, it's time to
start a revolution... because there no way that's your fault. When
you're 38 with a shitty low-wage job with no benefits, you're too ashamed to even talk
about it, but you will gladly vote for whatever welfare-state-ism promises some relief. And when you retire from that shitty low-wage job
with no benefits, the government will go belly up and leave you
sitting on a bench in Florida with all your possessions in a shopping
cart.
So by all means, let's waste whatever time we have left focusing on an the rhetoric dribbling from the lips of politicians. At the end of the day, that mad troupe of acrobats and circus clowns won't be around to help any of us. They never did and they never could. Utopian dreams exist in the eternal present to distract us from what lies ahead. Politicians and smart-money cash in daily, while we imagine a future paradise underwritten by the absent father figure who passes us on his way to the bank, with our futures in his pockets. Dream on.
So by all means, let's waste whatever time we have left focusing on an the rhetoric dribbling from the lips of politicians. At the end of the day, that mad troupe of acrobats and circus clowns won't be around to help any of us. They never did and they never could. Utopian dreams exist in the eternal present to distract us from what lies ahead. Politicians and smart-money cash in daily, while we imagine a future paradise underwritten by the absent father figure who passes us on his way to the bank, with our futures in his pockets. Dream on.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Shake The Weary Muzzle
Cut you slack, for all your aching, there are no songs for bodies breaking.
The animal strain of animal gain, as animal games
Like parlor tricks when guests arrive, the weak too strong to long survive,
Nor procreate their hearts and minds in little ones for buying time.
All the rest is death and dying, earthen clods of friends and foe,
And lovers lost touch long ago.
Blurring spots behind the lids of eyes squeezed tight,
Where nothing's wrong, and nothing's right.
Gaming tables, knuckles pound, in for the kill and double down.
Wolf eyes glowing, hot breath blowing, nostrils flare in brief palpations,
Sensing subtle variations, of tundras frozen long ago, of memories we cannot know.
Drag down prey and monster pots, death and dying, warm and hot,
Dragged home in bankrolled bloodied clots, to huddled humans on the spot.
Dead weight collapses on dried leaves, the shaking, wearied muzzle heaves.
Exhaustion howls, the wind and rain, the world begins to shrink again
To black hole point, ceased conscious mind, the empty sleep of cow eyed calm.
Rise and fall in repetition, reborn daily dead condition.
Endless night, endless day, endless give and take away.
Warm sun the fur, the animal rises, another day with no surprises,
Interval sets of daily stress, the keen knife edge scrapes clean the mind,
Re-tunes the soul, clears recollections, the self is wiped in all directions.
Blank to what it cannot see, so forced to be what it must be.
The will submits, the world demands, shifting gravities force the hand,
As nature calls, the will commands,
To do this all again today, to hunt, to kill, to seek out prey.
Death, not glory, that is this story.
Fade to black, fade to black,
As before, I take it back.
No music there, and no respite, just howl the moon and sleep till noon,
As this will all be over soon.
Look up, look down, walk there, turn 'round,
Be still, then move, then pounce, then kill, then feed, don't weep, relax, then sleep
No more music, no more games,
All your days are all the same
The animal strain of animal gain, as animal games
Like parlor tricks when guests arrive, the weak too strong to long survive,
Nor procreate their hearts and minds in little ones for buying time.
All the rest is death and dying, earthen clods of friends and foe,
And lovers lost touch long ago.
Blurring spots behind the lids of eyes squeezed tight,
Where nothing's wrong, and nothing's right.
Gaming tables, knuckles pound, in for the kill and double down.
Wolf eyes glowing, hot breath blowing, nostrils flare in brief palpations,
Sensing subtle variations, of tundras frozen long ago, of memories we cannot know.
Drag down prey and monster pots, death and dying, warm and hot,
Dragged home in bankrolled bloodied clots, to huddled humans on the spot.
Dead weight collapses on dried leaves, the shaking, wearied muzzle heaves.
Exhaustion howls, the wind and rain, the world begins to shrink again
To black hole point, ceased conscious mind, the empty sleep of cow eyed calm.
Rise and fall in repetition, reborn daily dead condition.
Endless night, endless day, endless give and take away.
Warm sun the fur, the animal rises, another day with no surprises,
Interval sets of daily stress, the keen knife edge scrapes clean the mind,
Re-tunes the soul, clears recollections, the self is wiped in all directions.
Blank to what it cannot see, so forced to be what it must be.
The will submits, the world demands, shifting gravities force the hand,
As nature calls, the will commands,
To do this all again today, to hunt, to kill, to seek out prey.
Death, not glory, that is this story.
Fade to black, fade to black,
As before, I take it back.
No music there, and no respite, just howl the moon and sleep till noon,
As this will all be over soon.
Look up, look down, walk there, turn 'round,
Be still, then move, then pounce, then kill, then feed, don't weep, relax, then sleep
No more music, no more games,
All your days are all the same
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
SHARKS
I recently watched a youtube video of an 18 foot great white shark that was slowly circling an 18 foot fishing boat. It was a modern fishing boat, with all the fancy amenities required for sport fishing. It had radios, sonar, and a shiny chrome throttle that theoretically would speed one away from deadly predators.
The passengers leaned over the edge to get a closer look, and to marvel at the shark's arrival. "Why do you think he's circling the boat", on passenger asks. "How big is it", asks another. "What kind of shark is that", asks a third. Everyone is talking at the same time. Great interest ensued, and everyone was clearly excited.
Nobody said, "Let's get the fuck out of here".
There they were, miles out in the ocean in an 18 foot piece of fiberglass, probably ¼ of an inch thick, and only 10 feet away from the deadliest predator on the planet. Yet they had no concern for their safety. Perhaps it was thrilling to be close to something so convincingly powerful. But in the end the shark was simply a special effect… it wasn't real… it was an tourist spectacle… something to relate back to memories of hapless animals existing subservient to humans… humans who protect themselves not with teeth, but with clever boats with shiny chrome handles.
But what happens when the motor won't start? What happens when the shiny chrome handle get's stuck? What happens when that ¼ inch of high-tech fiberglass hull somehow cracks, and the blue-green seawater… once so beautiful… starts to stream into around your feet, dark and cold then? What happens when the pit in your stomach arrives, and the adrenaline hits your bloodstream. Will you ask what the shark is doing there then?
The passengers leaned over the edge to get a closer look, and to marvel at the shark's arrival. "Why do you think he's circling the boat", on passenger asks. "How big is it", asks another. "What kind of shark is that", asks a third. Everyone is talking at the same time. Great interest ensued, and everyone was clearly excited.
Nobody said, "Let's get the fuck out of here".
There they were, miles out in the ocean in an 18 foot piece of fiberglass, probably ¼ of an inch thick, and only 10 feet away from the deadliest predator on the planet. Yet they had no concern for their safety. Perhaps it was thrilling to be close to something so convincingly powerful. But in the end the shark was simply a special effect… it wasn't real… it was an tourist spectacle… something to relate back to memories of hapless animals existing subservient to humans… humans who protect themselves not with teeth, but with clever boats with shiny chrome handles.
But what happens when the motor won't start? What happens when the shiny chrome handle get's stuck? What happens when that ¼ inch of high-tech fiberglass hull somehow cracks, and the blue-green seawater… once so beautiful… starts to stream into around your feet, dark and cold then? What happens when the pit in your stomach arrives, and the adrenaline hits your bloodstream. Will you ask what the shark is doing there then?
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
THE ETERNAL PRESENT
As I sat reading, a muted television flickered over my left shoulder. I glance over and notice a commercial that shows a tank running over a car on a suburban street. I laugh out loud in amazement at such an awesome sight. The car is crushed, the tank rolls down the street. The next commercial appears without interruption… such that with no visual break or discontinuity of consciousness, I then see a montage of military images. Jet fighters peel off in formation, a tank rolls up a beach… a landing craft door falls open to reveal the low-angle shot of soldiers running in formation through knee-deep water.
And so it goes, endless. No rest for the weary mind. Transfixed and seduced by the (as Robert Hughes says) the stupidly compelling medium of television.
What struck me in that moment was that I was both amazed by the visual pyrotechnics but also bored by them, with time between amazement and boredom being measure in seconds. One can imagine that in the early years of modernity, the time between amazement and boredom might be measured in a generation. Perhaps what the father found fantastic, the son found commonplace. Post WWII America, with it's accelerating material wealth and consumer culture, brought rates of change that reduced the amazement/boredom cycle to a few years… and then to the year to year changes of car models or the latest fashions. Digital technology has driven this cycle down further, where hardware is obsolete even as you buy it, and software updates itself online immediately upon installation.
We have arrived at a-temporailty. There seems to be no before and after. The temporal sequences are compressed into a timelessness. The theory of parallel universes… so popular in science fiction but implausible in our minds… seems to live daily in the realities of the simpler realities of computers, cell phones, TV commercials, and which pants to buy.
And whereas we can still plant an acorn in the ground and take a step back and take time to watch it grow… to observe causality… to observe nature… to feel the underlying truth to existence… we cannot step back and observe such natural breaks in the ceaseless flow of images and information that make up the tweaked world of manmade existence.
The reasons for this collapse of time and space into the dense black-hole of a-temporal disconnect is probably multi-faceted, but one reason I can think of lies somewhere near the needs of business to increase revenue. The formula might once have been to "sell more", but this logic has changed to "sell more often", or "sell all the time"… or maybe even "selling IS time"…. or "time is selling".
In the end, the old maxim "time is money" is realized in this digital, post-modern world, wherein the superconductive properties of new media have eliminated all resistance in the conduit between the seller and the buyer.
In electrical connections, resistance to the flow of electric current in a piece of wire is an upper limit on the wire itself, beyond which it overheats and the circuit melts down. Electrical systems are forced to employ circuit breakers to protect systems from physical damage. The holy grail of engineering becomes the discovery of materials immune to resistance. Such "superconductive" materials have no limit on their ability to move current.
In new media, the resistance on the conduit is time, which is an upper limit on the capacity of human beings to comprehend information-flows into their mind. If more information is pushed than can be consumed, the system doesn't so much break down, as become worthless. After all, you can always deploy advertising on 10,000 websites, and air television commercials at 4am on a school-night, but if nobody is able to consume them, the effort is a waste.
The limits on new media is the time required by the consumer of information. The holy grail for new media then becomes a superconductive consciousness... one where there is no limit. The old limit was the need to comprehend, which requires time. To take comprehension out of the equation, simply remove time. Compress time and space… future and past… into an eternal present moment, where no awareness or comprehension is possible, and you have a superconductive consciousness, with no upper limit on what it can consume.
This present moment of consumption has a history, but one that has no distance in the past… an eternal past. This moment has a future, but a future whose features are indistinguishable, in as much as it exists with zero distance from the past. It too is an eternal future. If we consider that the awareness of time is based on an awareness of a before and after point, then the absence of such markers produces the awesome spectacle of timelessness.
So a question arises. How does the human mind exist in timelessness? What are the effects of timeless on consciousness? A million years of evolution have given rise to what we call our conscious mind… a million years of cause and effect, of before and after, of time and space, and time enough between points A and B to consider how they relate to each other, and us to them. Time enough to be aware, to feel, to judge, to understand. What happens when that time and space are collapsed? What becomes of the human when their is not time to be human? We are still here… staring into the TV… staring into the computer. But what are we in those moments?
When I stare at the TV commercials and have a reaction of both amazement and boredom…. where the time between them is so brief as to be negligible… so brief as to call into question that there is even a time lag. Perhaps they are not even separated by seconds. Perhaps my assignment of a brief time lapse is simply my applying conventional notions of time and space to phenomenon outside of time and space. Maybe I need to consider that my awareness of the TV commercial has no before and after… that instead of having two states of awareness… that is.. a state of awareness followed by a state of boredom… perhaps I only have one state. This single state collapses two things into one… it collapses the before and after. It is the atomic unification of "been there and done that". It is the negation of the varieties of life. How it is that I am living and breathing in such moments is a shocking reminder that life drives on in my body, same as it ever was… but that the life of the mind blanks out upon directing ones gaze at the cultural vanishing point of the TV set, or the internet, or whatever next thing comes out of that nexus.
And yet even as the sun sets daily on human intelligence, the undeniable beauty of it's sinking into the sea arrests the attention of onlookers. Celestial bodies are beyond reproach… as is television… as are all forms of mass hysteria.
And so it goes, endless. No rest for the weary mind. Transfixed and seduced by the (as Robert Hughes says) the stupidly compelling medium of television.
What struck me in that moment was that I was both amazed by the visual pyrotechnics but also bored by them, with time between amazement and boredom being measure in seconds. One can imagine that in the early years of modernity, the time between amazement and boredom might be measured in a generation. Perhaps what the father found fantastic, the son found commonplace. Post WWII America, with it's accelerating material wealth and consumer culture, brought rates of change that reduced the amazement/boredom cycle to a few years… and then to the year to year changes of car models or the latest fashions. Digital technology has driven this cycle down further, where hardware is obsolete even as you buy it, and software updates itself online immediately upon installation.
We have arrived at a-temporailty. There seems to be no before and after. The temporal sequences are compressed into a timelessness. The theory of parallel universes… so popular in science fiction but implausible in our minds… seems to live daily in the realities of the simpler realities of computers, cell phones, TV commercials, and which pants to buy.
And whereas we can still plant an acorn in the ground and take a step back and take time to watch it grow… to observe causality… to observe nature… to feel the underlying truth to existence… we cannot step back and observe such natural breaks in the ceaseless flow of images and information that make up the tweaked world of manmade existence.
The reasons for this collapse of time and space into the dense black-hole of a-temporal disconnect is probably multi-faceted, but one reason I can think of lies somewhere near the needs of business to increase revenue. The formula might once have been to "sell more", but this logic has changed to "sell more often", or "sell all the time"… or maybe even "selling IS time"…. or "time is selling".
In the end, the old maxim "time is money" is realized in this digital, post-modern world, wherein the superconductive properties of new media have eliminated all resistance in the conduit between the seller and the buyer.
In electrical connections, resistance to the flow of electric current in a piece of wire is an upper limit on the wire itself, beyond which it overheats and the circuit melts down. Electrical systems are forced to employ circuit breakers to protect systems from physical damage. The holy grail of engineering becomes the discovery of materials immune to resistance. Such "superconductive" materials have no limit on their ability to move current.
In new media, the resistance on the conduit is time, which is an upper limit on the capacity of human beings to comprehend information-flows into their mind. If more information is pushed than can be consumed, the system doesn't so much break down, as become worthless. After all, you can always deploy advertising on 10,000 websites, and air television commercials at 4am on a school-night, but if nobody is able to consume them, the effort is a waste.
The limits on new media is the time required by the consumer of information. The holy grail for new media then becomes a superconductive consciousness... one where there is no limit. The old limit was the need to comprehend, which requires time. To take comprehension out of the equation, simply remove time. Compress time and space… future and past… into an eternal present moment, where no awareness or comprehension is possible, and you have a superconductive consciousness, with no upper limit on what it can consume.
This present moment of consumption has a history, but one that has no distance in the past… an eternal past. This moment has a future, but a future whose features are indistinguishable, in as much as it exists with zero distance from the past. It too is an eternal future. If we consider that the awareness of time is based on an awareness of a before and after point, then the absence of such markers produces the awesome spectacle of timelessness.
So a question arises. How does the human mind exist in timelessness? What are the effects of timeless on consciousness? A million years of evolution have given rise to what we call our conscious mind… a million years of cause and effect, of before and after, of time and space, and time enough between points A and B to consider how they relate to each other, and us to them. Time enough to be aware, to feel, to judge, to understand. What happens when that time and space are collapsed? What becomes of the human when their is not time to be human? We are still here… staring into the TV… staring into the computer. But what are we in those moments?
When I stare at the TV commercials and have a reaction of both amazement and boredom…. where the time between them is so brief as to be negligible… so brief as to call into question that there is even a time lag. Perhaps they are not even separated by seconds. Perhaps my assignment of a brief time lapse is simply my applying conventional notions of time and space to phenomenon outside of time and space. Maybe I need to consider that my awareness of the TV commercial has no before and after… that instead of having two states of awareness… that is.. a state of awareness followed by a state of boredom… perhaps I only have one state. This single state collapses two things into one… it collapses the before and after. It is the atomic unification of "been there and done that". It is the negation of the varieties of life. How it is that I am living and breathing in such moments is a shocking reminder that life drives on in my body, same as it ever was… but that the life of the mind blanks out upon directing ones gaze at the cultural vanishing point of the TV set, or the internet, or whatever next thing comes out of that nexus.
And yet even as the sun sets daily on human intelligence, the undeniable beauty of it's sinking into the sea arrests the attention of onlookers. Celestial bodies are beyond reproach… as is television… as are all forms of mass hysteria.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
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