Saturday, July 13, 2013

Australia Australia

Hey fuckers
Moonee ponds mid July 2013
Did you miss me?
Back again. Full-time yakka has suckered the magic away from the cruder, when the 'free time' comes around we don't wanna wail and record the wailing - not even for posterity , not even for the sake of re animating my freaking ghost some day in the future, no ...we wanna put our feet up, wrap up warm, pipe is fetched, slippers slipped on, and the newspaper is a finger-friendly app. Mine is an aging frame. Excuses, excuses. Oh first world luxury. Abu fucking Ghraib . So take stock people, load up on the ' the great crude youtube reference library' and load down the free crude tunes over at the archive.org, crude.bandcamp.com, the pleasing heaven-ward odours of roasting calf-fats at last.fm and the miscellany unearthed with a google or two. I'll say it now - the works are rather clever, the sounds and beats are futuristic, the melodies (where applicable) are deft yet oddball - and it is as if Crude doesn't exist. But there I am. Online, proton-packed laser-light carved into granite belts, an eternal covenant with G--gle, the NSA's playlist, the gnostic index, the non-event. Cannot wait to hear crude via g--gl glass.
Breaker-breaker. Life in the Victorian workforce has been an exciting one. I work in the food production industry now, and I am an enthusiastic employee, I do what I am told within reason, I am reliable - to a degree, and I learn new tasks to the best of my ability. Ours is a niche market. There has been unrest on the floor over some issues which has made for tense times. Hippy blase love-it-all -capitalism versus crusty anarchist Utopianism versus nepalese filial piety versus the new kiwi wierd. Would someone please think of the customers,,I mean...the children!!! But I say no more here, I have
contractual obligations to uphold , and as I am a trustworthy individual I uphold them. My fingers
just might find themselves going through a bagging machine.

The metaphysics of ancient Indian speculation still grips my imagination. The monistic idealism of the Upansihads is, for me, an extremely important study, a slow burning passion. Shaivism in all it's forms is another fascination of mine, as is the life and teachings of sri Ramana Maharshi - perhaps modern Indias  most authentic and heavenly sage. The very act of digesting what these thinkers
express distills the mind , it is purified of reactionary dross, who indeed is the thinker? What is thought and who is it that perceives thought ? Atman = brahman. To realise this equation is to step outside of time and space.To download a commentary by Sankara then render the text into an audio book and listen to it while I pack superfood bars keeps me sane - it keeps me vital and quietly hopeful that moksha will be unveiled to me before I leave this body. I hope to save a portion of my wage and travel to India at
some point over the next few years, to trod upon the same soil that raised such penetrating minds as ramana maharshi, sankaracarya and the countless other genius Siddhis, sadhus, Jivan-mukhtas, yogis, jnanis, swamis and sages I have read about. Gotta watch out for the scams.

So, it's a quietist and receptive state I find myself in these days. Gone is the urgent need to express,
to put out, to react, to interpret, to purge, to be a fucking little rock star cunt. Raw power and 'passion' is now rerouted into a meditative search for ultimate reality. Goodbye art...at least for now.
Swallowed whole by ones own navel. Or is it another organic orifice. Either way, my invisibility continues. And none of what I write amounts to anything. No one gives a fuck. Well, the NSA do I suppose....hi guys! How's your afternoon going...pouring over screeds of mundane data...mines boring..melbourne is freaking cold these days. Total world knowledge, absolute exposure of all
speech, communication, dream life, a wireless modem is embedded into each turd . Enjoy the stools guys..... they don't require a fucking password. Yet.

World geopolitics is a topic I've been trying to avoid. I mean, what can I do about it? Nothing. It's out of my hands. Think Epictetus' Enchriridion.  Be that as it may, my observations blame the CIA for
fomenting discord and triggering sectarian battles all over the Middle East. That's about it. They want destabilisation and thanks to passionate belief and tribal zeal theys got it. As we gaze on, soundly fellated in our western living rooms, our bank accounts act as a conduit for the most greivous digital banking fraud. We are but a siphoning mechanism, a filter, a digital laundry. I've said it all before and ill say it again...yawn ...to me the mission of capitalism is to stealthily coax capital out of public coffers and privatise it. They're doing a great job, unchecked, unregulated, unalloyed. We all know the math....1% own it all. To turn away from world events and truths of this sort of gravity and live a simple day to day existence only caring about ones own little world is tempting. A kind of radical subjectivity - to create ones own meaning and value. Why not - we are slaves of the banking mafias. Turn away and build ones own inner empire. Let banking be what it is, a stockpile of dead numbers. Meaningless. Prurient. Vile. Dead. Blood-spattered. Miscarried. The fuel for torture, rape, butchery and atrocity. Your money.

"The market economy produces a systematically false consciousness: an ideology. Global exchange for profit, and more especially the exchange of money-which is itself the medium of exchange-for profit, is the root cause and prime example of today's ideological errors. While market exchange is obviously present in and necessary to any civilised society, our postmodern society is historically unique in elevating the mercantile principle to a position of complete dominance over the economy and, I argue, over every area of public and private experience. While it attains this degree of power, the market ceases to fulfil its necessary but subordinate function as a means toward the end of civilized life. It becomes, rather, an end in itself, and in consequence it takes on the aspect of tyrannous, destructive force, whose impact is felt within each of our minds as well as in our material lives. The market becomes an ideology. In the 1990's it seemed to many that to oppose the market was to oppose life itself. The recent collapse of socialism, which had been the only significant anti-capitalist movement for over a century, appeared to inaugurate a permanent reign of trade and usury. Francis Fukuyama's influential The End of History (1992) made a convincing case that market ideology had finally exterminated any viable alternative, and that it therefore constituted the 'end point of mankinds ideological evolution' " David Hawkes - Ideology (2003)



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