Rant 119: Twilight State


"The alternative to being is reacting, and reacting interrupts being and annihilates."
-D.W. Winnicott

Many of you have wondered about my recent "softening" when it comes to speaking or writing about "society." Most of you could probably care less about it. But for the sake of this paragraph, I will spell out possible reasons for both the dissipation of what might have been a hard line attitude and for giving up participation in black bloc activities: Discordianism; years of meditation practices; esoteric exploration and meander (the occult world is full of so much bullshit that it wore me out); my increase of age; arguments with Chicago anarchists who seemed to think that not washing their own bodies and stealing food from supermarkets constituted "fighting the man"; and the study of medical terminology, pathology, and anatomy that will be necessary to master before getting my next job; the study of cognitive behavior and Gestalt therapies so I can get into a Ph.D. program; the fact that cigarettes cost too much and I am in the process of quitting; and the major reason: the fact that the hard line anarchist mindset was merely one reality tunnel out of many that I enjoy exploring. Wah wah wah! Cry me up a river. My old socialist comrades would probably say that I am becoming lazy and inactive, letting my personal life interfere with the "cause" or whatever. But who cares about all of that? Besides, there are others who are better able to struggle and break shit and do all those little things that annoy the police so much. There is a new generation of young people who can run faster than the cops anyway. It's good to retire from all of it.

Don't get me wrong. I am not flouncing from the "political" (heh, sure) activities, my approach is changing. (Or at least that's what I tell myself.) I have finally learned the hard lesson that sacrifices need to be let go of. Life is too valuable to lock it up into some narrow cause or some group of related narrow causes and ideas. It was Discordianism and the practice of Buddhism that cracked the door open for me and got me to see and feel fresh air. The atheist historical materialist left-anarchist self is worried that I have cracked apart under the pressure of wanting comfort for once. The esoteric magical ritual practitioner self is happy and thinks it can use this period in my life to take more control. The theistic Eris-worshipping self doesn't give a damn about the whole mental circus. The Neo-Pagan devoted self is happy that I have at least learned something from all that witchcraft training years ago. The right-anarchist free marketeer self is happy because I seem to be finally taking its advice seriously (I can tell because this self has stopped nagging me so much). The Irish Gaelic-speaking Celtic resistance self doesn't much get into these internal squabbles, worried as it is about West Belfast and the price of beer. The old shamanic self, imprinted on my nervous system back when I was too young to know what the hell I had gotten into, is simply watching from the sidelines, laughing at the foolishness. The trumpet playing jazz/ska loving self thinks it is going to come out on top anyway and was never really worried. The Buddha mind seeking part of my self is busy trying to convince all of the rest of me that the whole circus is in fact really the Buddha mind. Together, through all of this meander, the part of myself that usually likes to claim itself as "I" doesn't much give a care. It's just that the newer part of me, the rant machine complex has decided to revolt and spill the beans. I tried to say that no one could really give a shit. But try telling that to a self-focused mental defense mechanism that has hijacked my written skills. I have a plan to regain control of that beast. It involves reciting the Diamond Sutra over and o----

<Sounds of struggle.>

We are all the assimilated. Resistance is fertile. There will be no televising of the things that matter to you, unless you have been properly trained to accept immaterial things as material. Take that silly putty you call your ego and mold it to whatever you wish it to be and then get up and go out there and make some damned noise, for Bobsake! We are the damned and we are coming to your homes, your minds, your refrigerators and even your hidden collections of porn.

<Sounds of more struggle.>

Who the fuck is James Brown?

<Muffled noises.>

You can try to hold it back behind your walls of frustration and fear, but the walls are being dynamited. The fabric of reality is being torn and recombined into new patterns. We are tired of being billed for the messes you have created. We are the Palestinians of Israel, the Irish of Belfast, the Witches of Christendom, the Scientists of Dar al-Islam, the Turks of Greece, the Chechens of Russia, the anarchists of Civilization everywhere, the Damned Things that will not be forced to fit into your boxes and pigeon holes. And we are here for the payback. We are putting a stop to your practice of writing checks which you cannot cash yourselves, you filthy fraudulent liars! We are sick and tired of you using our lives as collateral for your global pretensions. For the crimes of putting your fat rats into our lives to feed off of our blood, sweat, and energies, we announce that we have become the rats in your walls and we are gnawing it all away. You can cling to your walls and collapse with them, or you can join in the feeding frenzy of freedom. We may or may not win, but there will be much fun passed around at this banquet. Are you ready?

There will be no compromises, except to temporarily rest before we further our march on the road. The squirrels will gnaw on the bones of the opposition. We have stopped trying to look for something and have decided to start creating that which we want. You will be illuminated for standing in the way. The fucking around is officially over and the fucking off has started. (Take the appropriate precautions from STDs and *ETDs, please.)

<More noises.>

WTF, mate? Never mind. Nothing to see here, people. Move along now. And stop picking your damned noses in public! How many times do I have to say that?

-Irreverend Hugh, KSC
(Allegedly. Or some parts of him anyway.)
August 18th, 2005


*EDT: Emotionally Transmitted Disease/Disorder

Rant 120
Rants Vol. 2 Index