turning on post human

turning on the post human

The post-human, the who or what that comes after. By making alien art,

extraterrestial music, and crypto-poetry, we send our postponements

off into the future, to bounce back at us, surge through us, and relax

in the recliner.

The nihilist normals who fervently consider war, greed, and poverty to

be "natural, inevitable" swing out into the outer darkness, flung far

from the outspoken spokes of the wheel of Dharma, with much weeping

and gnashing of teeth. Now they get to "elect" a shadow figurine who

will prance up and down Washington DC, the apparent puppet of their

bidding, only to collapse euphoric in the arms of lobbyist lovelies.

So they march off to vote like they march off to war: thinking it all

makes some kind of crazy sense, but things go from bad to worse to

curse.

Instead of voting sheepishly for the candidate you "like", why not

take the flaw into your own hands and start changing the nation that

surrounds you right now? Just one voice is the only power that does

anything in this world. Armies and corporations and empires accomplish

nothing. We have all the problems that mankind has always had, with

leaders who make others die for, and finance, them.

What matters is the metaphysical, the condition of the mind and the

introspective radiance of the self-observing heart of self. Winning

through self-loathing is the beatific balm that sardonically subdues

the feeble heckling of all your adversaries.

To obey, the Neanderthal thumping of the brain by a bully-leader. To

act in accordance with the numbing of conscience, so that you may

proudly proclaim after any heinous act, the mournful lament of every

lemming: "I was just following orders!"