Damn straight! I agree w/ Jen's teacher. If people don't get off this rock soon, we'll eat it up to the sky and down to the core. there'll be nothing left but our trash and radioactive waste. People need to move into space stations not only because otherwise we'll overcrowd and kill eachother here, but also becuase it will beautifully demonstrate that all ecosystems are closed systems, whether they are just a thousand-inhabitant orbiting artificial satelite, or the Earth, they are both closed systems with finite amounts of energy, finite amounts of resources. The only difference is that the bigger the system, the longer it takes to notice that you are drowning in our own excriment.
uh... i got distracted by phone calls and IMs and kinda forgot where i was.... oh yeah:
So space colonies will help perfect technologies that help close the loop on human consumption cycles. And thus make life on Earth better for all the people who choose to stay, or just cannot leave.
so yeah.... fuck earth, let's get off this rock!
~ [ MainMind : 11/29/2000 05:39:56 PM] *@*
i lack posting....
i don't lack things to say
just the knowledge of how to say them
to make you all understand
for you all to see and fear
their master plan
~ [ MainMind : 11/29/2000 01:46:56 AM] *@*
Epics and Adrenaline
A lack of posting, yes. Reason: lack of enthusiasm. Reason for that: feeling of pointlessness. posts produce no positive results, or even negative. just no results. This is becoming a nuisance to me not only with blogging but most communication and just life in general. Last night at work i had a conversation with some woman about politics. I said i'd have voted "None of the Above" for most of the elections, especially the president becuase they were all bad choices of a person to "run" this country. And then I proceeded to bash this country's government and say that this place didn't deserve my citizenship or vote. But her rebuttal brought up a good point. A sad point. What better choice is there? I'm not sure there is, i'll have to investigate. but there doesn't seem to be. Futility was the feeling that crept up on me. And tonight watching a movie, the Abyss, if you're wondering, during an action secquence, they're runing around in minisubs bashing into eachother. I was thinking, they're gonna lose that sub, and they need it to survive. But then it clicked, it was them or it, the good guys or the bad, either way one sub would be destroyed and one team would win, or it woudl be the other. It was life or death, not just which was better.
Adrenaline. Life or death decisions. These we lack. Choices, we have. But what are they? which way is more comfortable, which way is more entertaining? These are all inconsequential decisions. We now have surrogates for adrenaline situations. Video games and recreational sports. Speed entertains because it feeds the instincts, the primal hardwired circuitry of our bodies and minds. The thrill of the chase, preying upon or being preyed upon. Hunting and being hunted. Speed. Life and Death. Survival is only a quesiton for the bottom rung and third world majorities. Levels of comfort are all that cause problems for us civilized apes. Man creates wars to give itself a predator, becuase it needs a threat to grow, needs a threat to strive, needs a threat to surpass its own wildest dreams because only necessity of the direst nature drives real creation, real innovation and real progress. Stagnation breeds daytime dramas, and primetime action show surrogates for having a real existence of our own. Epics.
this is nt us this is not life this is a dream a nightmare an emotion of a lazy god. she daydreams of green pastures, humans grazing on the opiate religions and basking on the rocks in the sunlight. it's not too hot the UV is low and the sex is all night long the children bloom in the morning bees percolate from hives and pollinate the fields with knowledge and wisdom. we are aged by noon. petals fall at dusk and roots raise by twilight. male approaches female, fermones call like nightengales' songs, rapture in orgasm, seeds fertilized, life drains. passions expelled, tempors rage, misunderstandings brings fisticuffs, limb from limb we tear eachother with savage efficiency. blood is the rain that soaks the ground, seeds grow shoots, roots down leaves up to greet the sun, buds on the vine, flowers to meet the morning sun we cycle through another day.
call me cow i'll fart methane in your face and rip the ozone from my roof. feed me shit i'll chew my cud. passify me with your entertainment. give me a ton of metal riding a fire, let me slam the peddle to the floor, blast open the valves full on, i speed down serpentine strips of charred earth, painted with straight lines, stripes on the snakes' back, illogical order to the natural curves or manmade death pressed flat. blast past signposts at over a hundred, accelerating always towards hope, languages mingle together in murmurs of misunderstood threats, howls like wolves, my bones ache the joints stiff, arthritis like rust. a croooked smile will grace this face, as teeth fall out. cavities corroded by the sucrosse of our sweet sweet american lives. i'm driving home. destination: gravestone. death a celebration, lights flood the mind, euphoria like an emmy you like me, you really like me. i'd like to thank the creator, i'd like to thank the puppeteer, i'd like to thank the mad hatter. we're late we're late we're late.
On quiet mornings I can hear the church bells tolling the hour, when I leave my door, into the hall, a chill meets my skinny pale scaled legs, shakily i walk into the sun, film on the kitchen windows turns then yellow-milky-white, i can't see the outside, i hope it doesn't exist that this is not life, just another dream of a dead, not regularly dead like monday dead, but really dead like hope dead, another dream of a starved soul, finally reached the end, so i can walk to the window, look on out down the hilll out towards the city and see the ashes blowing up against the skyscrapers, turning their ecstacy blue windows to a muffled gray. i'd walk through the walls down to the street and lay on the highest hilll, listening for a shriek like a banshee, caw of a hawk, the rush of air around its wings as the pheonix swoops down to claim my tired body and mind.
because we lack reality in our real lives. Adrenaline and epics. Purpose.
epics need a reason, they have a goal. but so should life. right?
could the reason be to find THE reason, or is that just too much of a circle for the cycle of creation/existence to make.... is this philosophy just too unamerican, it doesn't take any consuming to think, to consider, to contemplate the eternity of the soul, or the fragile temporary beauty of sunlight reflecting off a dewdrop on the petal of a rose at dawn, or the unfathomable distance to the stars that sparkle in an unpolluted clear night sky.
And americans must consume. the capitalism beast demands it.
my beast demands i sum up and conclude.
Adrenaline and Epics, things we lack. epics need a purpose, so i'm gonna try and find a purpose, thus create my own epic, and hopefully create and consume some genuine adrenline. because life now, as i see it, as i'm living it, is pointless shit.
~ [ MainMind : 11/27/2000 01:13:03 AM] *@*