Showing posts with label dragon battles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dragon battles. Show all posts

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Here There Be Dragons




The world is changing.  It is doing it at such an accelerated pace that a huge portion of the populace is actually willfully retreating into Dark Age levels of ignorance.  A recent poll showed that more Americans hold firm to the belief that the world is six thousand years old and that God created humanity out of a man who got tired of fucking the sheep and one of his ribs then did ten years ago.  Young western women are campaigning for ‘women’s rights’ like the Hijab and an end to fast legal access to abortions.  That is so fucked up I can’t even begin to wrap my head around it.

In the last two years the Peterman Glacier in Greenland has calved ice islands several times larger than Manhattan Island, more than a third of its floating ice.  When they calculate sea-level rise it is based on the waters rate of expansion due to the incremental rising of global average temperatures.  That’s why the number is always so small; it totally doesn’t factor in water being added due to glacial melt.   That’s because when something like the Peterman Glacier calving takes place it is the loss of ‘floating ice’, which doesn’t actually change the amount of water in the world’s oceans.  Ice is water you see and it matters not what state it is in, global ocean volume remains the same.  It is the miles and miles of inland glacial mass that can change the sea-level in more dramatic and catastrophic ways because it sits on the land and is not a factor on sea-level.  Unless it melts.

The scientific community hasn’t worried over much about the implications of the loss of land-bound glacial mass because they are far more resilient in the face of our planets climate mood-swings.  There is no warm liquid mass beneath them to weaken their resolve, there are no rising and falling tides to fracture and corrupt them.  They are titans, unshakeable.

Except, it turns out what happens to one end of a glacial mass (the floating end) has a pronounced impact on the other end.  The Arctic’s land-bound glacial masses are literally running into the sea, buoyed on hidden rivers of melt-water that have borrowed themselves through the glacier to the rock beneath.  Apparently, scientists totally didn’t see that one coming.  If glacial ice loss continues at its current rate than every drop of melt water by the end of this decade will contribute directly to sea-level rise. 

This deeply excites me, in an almost sexual way.  The apocalypse will not just be a thing of commerce and politics exclusively; it will remake the surface of the planet.  The Northwest Passage has been clear for two years running; the ice bridge between Canada and Greenland is officially no more.  Sea’s now exist where before there was only ice, the old maps now lie and must be re-charted, dragons now haunt their false outlines.  The planet is being renewed, we as a species have pushed it too far and it will compensate by fucking shit up, trying some new stuff out.  And the brave among us will get to be explorers again, not just in blossoming scientific fields like genetics or micro-processing or elaborate industrial fabrication techniques, in the old sense of standing on a boat and staring into black uncharted waters.  It is an age meant for someone like me and I intend to fucking ball.

The present climate-change denial is really just the most current iteration of the science-denial that has made the established monotheist religions look stupid since the Renaissance.  I am not even going to go there, really what’s the point?  If you subscribe to their dogma, you’re an idiot.  There will be no trotting out of archaic morality and the ‘it’s helpful to not be an ass’ arguments so common to these discussions (which cannot be dignified with the term ‘debate’ as that term suggests both sides have a valid point,) because that position is disingenuous at best and self-deceptive the rest (and most) of the time.  Christianity/Judaism/Islamic world views do not make the world better and they do not make you better.  They make you an idiot and a willful one at that. 

The old animists had it right, if there is a singular creative force in the universe it doesn’t give a rats ass how often you masturbate, how many abortions you have had or if you feel bad for hurting my feelings.  The world is possessed of a spirit of its own and when that spirit is not respected it beats your ass silly.  So I congratulate you on your abortion/gay-sex/stem-cell research, you are a child of the new world and you are right, deeply and pervasively correct.  Anyone that tells you otherwise is a demonstrable fool.  I am writing for you, to you because real debate is only possible when we have kicked the morons out of the room.

It had to be said.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

The Blind Man Who Described the Elephant as a Huge Fucking Cock

Shrooms

Good sorcery, the practical sort that keeps your ass out of the fire, is predicated on accepting the world just as it is.  It doesn’t make any difference how old your books are or who taught you which unintelligible phrases to mutter or how many awesomely expensive talismans you got.  To change the world you have to participate in it, no great magic will happen if you’re working on the fantasy in your head.  How the world should be is not how the world is, how the world is portrayed to you is not how it is, how your parents told you the world was is not how it is.  Everyone is lying.  Your right eye is in a half- baked conspiracy with your left eye.  Even they are lying to you.

So I am going to tell you how it is.

The world is two great wheels, one of fire and the other of ice, turning endlessly against the other.  The world is a bad man, bound to a bad chair, screaming a bad scream.  The world is a good woman pouring poison from her bowl because he has nothing else to give her.  The world is a clean set of clothes and a dirty pair of hands.  The world is a lonely mobile turning over the corpse of some newborn that took one look around and said ‘fuck that!’  The world is enlightenment at the end of a stick.  The world is spring flowers in wet mud.  The world is blind men correctly describing an elephant as a husking basket, an old serpent and a great pillar.

No, you missed the point of that story.

Psychedelic drugs work on you because you have the receptors in your brain for the chemical compounds.  Really ponder that for a second.  There is no war on drugs; there is a war on thought, on modes of thinking.  Sasha Shulgin theorizes that once upon a time we simply manufactured these compounds ourselves but stopped because it wasn’t helpful to view the world through a perpetual acid haze.  Except I don’t agree with him there (and literally only there), we have receptors for all kinds of stuff.  Especially within the brain, the chemistry of which we fuck with on a daily basis and never think of as ‘drug abuse’.  Like coffee and booze and chocolate and sugar.  Same chemistry, you sad sad druggie.  I think it’s what you’re used to; I’m with Ann (Shulgin) and her whole socialization thing.   When Sasha and Ann realized they could stop the clock, Sasha pussied out.

Once upon a time ‘drugs’ were fucking everywhere.  Ergot lived harmoniously with the wild grains and food grasses of Europe.  Mushroom season was uniformly celebrated and weed grew like, well a weed.  You fucking vegans are as bad as the meat eaters, everything always tame and domesticated.  Even your plants.  Contemporary studies have shown that psilocybin quite literally cripples the egoic centers of the brain; it takes away your identity.  Without that you can no longer perceive the world around you in a linear fashion.  You operate instead from deep memory and sensory response.  Everything is what it is.

Your brain has all the shit it needs to do that, as well as all the other shit you get it to do.  I know a retired MMA fighter who refers to his occasional mushroom trips as ‘battling the dragons’.  Or Gordon from Runesoup recounting how he cures his seasonal depressions with a dose of ketamine.  Your brain has a receptor for everything it needs.  See what I am intimating right there? 

Our world was once a little house at the top of a hill and I would sing songs in the basement to an audience of criminal plants because wild plants need music to live.  V and I were laying sheets for Halloween and put a drop from the bottle into each of our beers.  We were out for three days, three of the most amazing days of my youth.  Remembering how we were once fey-children together in the Garden of Eden.  How could we have ever forgotten?  I talked my way past doormen, entrance fees and VIP bouncers, I was Loki incarnate.  We were sad when it finally ended.

Right now there is a war on thought, on modes of thinking and poets are dying on the front lines.  Falling in defense of your ever shrinking imagination, no one is coming for that starving artist dug into his fox-hole on the forward lines where your inspiration used to be.  Missing in action.  The ego isn’t the part of your personality that acts like a douche sometimes; it is the whole subjective mechanic of communication.  It is the world-which-is-not that lives in your mind and if that illusory construct is not regularly informed by the objective world-as-it-is then it is useless for practical magic.  Your whole process is fucked, chemically deficient.  Your diet is lacking in plant dreams and animal death-lust.

Between the endless red void of your being and mine lay an economy of belief and it is that subjective economy which is described by the ego.  Which means it doesn’t belong to you, it isn’t you, it is without inherent meaning.  It is a deceased parrot.  Hardly a suitable foundation for tossing an efficacious nail or charm.  The old lines about ego-death are horse-shit; you can’t kill a thing that didn’t exist in the first place.  

That cat comes back the very next day.  Co-dependently arising betwixt our great voids of being.