As a new wind sweeps throughout the middle east. Us Occidentals look upon the happenings with a certain unease. The fact is that this democratic revolution in the radical sense (radical as for root) of the term are changing forever our perception of democracy.
For some time now in our modern occidental style democracies, popular involvement in politics has been on the down side. A big gap has been created between on one side the governed and the other the government. Political power is capitalized in the hands of an elite merely, probably at most 5 percent of the total population. Press and politics are gathered into the same grey body, civil society is only an extension of politics, and citizenship has for definition the right to vote ever 4/5 years. The fact is that the questioning that is happening south of the mare nostrum is not happening to it's north. Maybe the infiltration of power so deep into our society has created a sort of empathy of the governed? Maybe democracy has made us political slaves of some sort? The fact is that we have a lot to learn form our southern brothers in this quest for righteous government.
The uprising in Tunisia and Egypt have been very much publicized throughout the occidental world, yet for us at least for the majority of us (I do not considered myself as part of this majority) the political revolutions of the Arab world are but part of processes of democratization that has finished in most of the western world since the mid 20th century. Well I guess that the heroes and parents of our modern democracy must be rolling all over their graves trying in vain to crawl out and put some sense into our humble beings. If anything, democratization is never over, it's a cycle and with each generation or few generations comes a need of what I would call "re-democratization". In the history of political science its said that the implementation of democracy and democratic institutions was hard long battle called democratization it's a very simplistic approach the truth is that the accent of democracy is a much more complicated and tangled tale, and it can surely not be contained within a sentence, but then again it's just a vulgar explanation of common dogma. True democracy did not fall form the sky it was a long and bloody battle, but whoever said it was over? Because if the democratization of our modern occidental societies is finished then I guess democracy lost.
Democracy in name exists throughout the occidental world, but does it exist in theory? As we have seen with communism an ideal can exist and be chanted on by various supporters and never really exist in reality, once again humanity is face to face with the never ending problem of theory vs theory in practice. The democratic ideal is far form being fulfilled not even in our wildest dreams, but with the Arab revolutions of 2010/2011 a new breath filled what at times seemed to be a lifeless body.
First of all if anything the Arab revolutions have proven to us that civil society is the basis of any democratic society, if civil society doesn't rise up form time to time to "to water the tree of liberty with the blood of tyrants" then democracy can consider itself a death row inmate. 2nd of all, the Arab revolutions have questioned the form of modern governance, of how our modern governance works and the axis on which such government rotates. The Arab revolution put under the spotlight a notion that french sociologist Bourdieu called "La violence symbolique" or in English symbolic violence, which is the oppression of the state through promising social equality and social ascension but through it's institutions maintaining social hierarchy and a sort of bizarre "class-warfare". 3th of all probably the most important lesson is that the Arab revolutions have proven to the world that democracy is question of always keeping power within the grasp of the powerless. It's that we occidentals have forgotten the most important of lessons, democracy is unlike any other regime it maybe it's strength maybe it's weakness but power must always emanate form the "people" the low-classes of society (as would say Marx), the classes that are most capable of progress because "progress" for them is question of survival not a trend. So when democracy loses it's popular foundation the card-house crumbles. And finally the 4th lesson politics is politics and politics is sacred. When the affairs of the "polis" become mixed up with interests, when politics the affairs of all of the inhabitants of the "polis" become the privilege of some, when a regime is the tool of oppression some political machines scrap it.
Now only time will tell, if regime change and the inauguration of new democratic* regimes will really bring the change needed and deserved for so many or is it a cover up or mask to implement the same old same old?
As John Philpot Curran said "The price of freedom is eternal vigilance"
Sky
*Democratic: the fact is that for a very long time a period occidental governments want to obscure now, we talked of the toppled regimes of Ben Ali and Mubarak as "democratic".
Saturday, 23 April 2011
Friday, 4 February 2011
A night for Freedom: or the dawn of new age for the middle east.
It arrived a bit like the big bang, transmitted by CNN and Al Jazeera throughout the television waves to every corner of the globe. The toppling of Zine El Abidine Ben Ali after more then 20 years at the head of Tunisia. During the night of the 14th it seemed as if something had sifted, once and for all. After years and years of uprisings and revolts that hadn't done much to budge the status quo in the region. And yet as Ben Ali's airplane left Tunisian airspace it was sure that something was happening, something we couldn't really grasp yet, but something like a kind of political tectonic plate had sifted and creating a gigantic political earthquake.
Today about 20 days after it's still to near to really grasp what will or what will not happen, but as many other countries in the region turn their backs on the out of date "strongmen", we can start to perceive that something "strangely" new is seeing daylight in the region. But I'm not writing this to relate some facts that everybody reader knows very well. What I want to look into here is what are or maybe the origins of this "new" revolutions springing up all over the Arab world. Back in 2009 Iran was teared apart, was bloody and in bitter chaos. It seemed as if the regime that was in place since 1979 seemed to be more unstable then ever, it seemed that the foundations that once had made the Islamic Republic of Iran one of the worst fears of every conservative republican out there. The elections of 2009 we're false, corruption was the main political force in the election, the religious power of the Islamic Republic try to disintegrate any legitimate opposition. After much bloodshed, the movement died out.
Now why did the uprising in Iran die out and not the uprisings in Tunisia and the on going revolt in Egypt, why did the green revolution die and the jasmine revolution succeed.
The thing is that this wave of revolutions that started in Tunisia and now continues in Egypt, and starts to spring up in Jordan, Yemen and bit all over the Arab world. This revolution is not a revolution that is boxed up in one country, as we have seen it can not be contained to one nation, because unlike what happened in Iran back in 2009 was excursively a Persian revolt. But the departure of Ben Ali whispered in a new age , that is still comprehensible for us occidentals, we who have always believed that our great values could never build stable regimes in these Arab countries that had a too different culture form ours, a culture in which democracy would never thrive. So what has happened since the liberation of the Arab countries since the end of WW1 the "west" has created and maintained a firm gripe on the region. Oil was the main factor that explain why all the imperialistic ambitions had put their eyes firmly on the rich lands of Northern Africa and of the Middle East. First of all the United Kingdom place fictive royal families on the new thrones of Irak and Iran, in Saudi Arabia in Egypt in Jordan. The French protectorates were given independence around the same time but very fast with the support of the United States and of the English and the French the fragile democracies crumbled in to ruins, the monarchic regimes some were toppled by democratic movements and these movements were themselves toppled by reactionary dictators. The Shah took power in Iran backed by the big petrol Anglo-Iranian Oil Company. In Irak, Syria and North Africa the army and new dictators took power with the help of the "west", for sometime Egypt seemed to be the renegade of the region only to become the "west" biggest ally in the region. Since the independence of the Arab countries after WW2 the "west" through military interventions and the toppling of governments and the financing of "thug" dictators and rough states.
The message that resonates form the central squares of Tunis and Cairo is that democracy is not an exclusively occidental value, that the world has changed and that the "great powers" can not take entire peoples hostage.
Now we fear that the so called Islamic groups will take power and like in 1979 create hostile anti-west Islamic states. Let this be said the Islamic revolution of 1979 is in so many ways the fault of the Occident, and now if an Islamic state does rise up form the old regimes of Egypt and Tunisia and maybe other Arab nations, we don't have to look to far to see who's fault it is, it's without any doubt ours.
This revolution sheds a light on the wrongs in the Northern African and Middle Eastern societies, it also sheds a light on our cowardice and our imperialistic ways. The time has come, to see that the new world order is much different form anything we have known in a longtime or maybe even ever before, but we have to get use to the fact that actions have consequences, and that Al-Qaeda and other such organizations didn't just fall of the sky they are our creations. And the best way to fight then is to cut the evil at the root, that means to give freedom and democracy to all the peoples of the Arab world and to promote the values we love so dearly and help the young democrats of the Arab world to really build new and withstanding democratic regimes.
We are all Egyptians now.
Sky
Thursday, 13 January 2011
Why America is going to hell or not.
I guess I'm finally back in a sort of Eminem kind of way. That being I've been silent for sometime, but I guess that circumstances have gathered to make my come back once again.
Now when I talk about circumstances, I guess everyone that will read this post is up to date with the flow of current events in Arizona. Yes in the small town of Tucson, Arizona Saturday the 8th horror shaded the town forever. During a meeting with her constituents congresswomen Gabrielle Giffords a progressive democrat, that had voted for the so called "Obamacare" reform and that was the an essential target on the tea party's list, was wounded during a killing spree that took the life of 6 people of those the chief judge of Arizona a well known progressive voice in the state and a 9 year old girl that happened to be born on the 11th of September 2001. I've took the time to reflect and hear everyone's point of view before posting this, I'm not the one that is in need of a scapegoat for some gain of political points, but the truth is that this incident fatefully shows that the whole system is to be condemned in my point of view much more so then the young man.
First of all as always, before even knowing the really causes that engaged this young mind on a killing spree every media in the country qualified the young man as a monster and very dis-equilibrated mentally. The fact is even if this young man is as some say "crasy" the thing we have to know is what push him to commit such an act. In my point of view the act was not just pure folly far from that. The individual knew very well who he was going to shoot down and try to kill a congresswomen.
A congresswomen Gabrielle Giffords, that had been the target of all of the hate of the political tea party machine, during the fall elections interviewed inhabitants of Tucson said to have rarely seen any such hate campaign in " a town where everyone knows everybody".
The thing is that such hate campaigns are not marginal anymore, since the end of the 2008 election in which things were already turning nasty, with the fake allegations that Obama for having a middle name Hussein was in fact a Muslim, a whole anti-Muslim campaign was produced by the Palin machine during the final weeks of running, a racist xenophobic campaign that made tensions boil up to the boiling point. Then things seemed to cool down a bit and then during the summer of 2009 when the tea party felt that they were losing grasp of the political world, the machine once again decided to unleash hell upon the Obama administration. People would come loaded to town hall meetings, during the protests in Washington during the heath-care debate, photos of Obama as Hitler or as monk were a common view. And today Miss Palin asks herself on national television "how did we get here?"
The fact is that Palin and the entire tea party are not smart enough to answer anyway else so really I'm not going to waste much time on that subject. The fact is that tensions have flared and have cumulated to this horrific point and in the building up to this moment the tea party has played an essential if not central role.
In fact not just the tea party, but the entire American political class with some honorific exceptions (in my view the president himself is not one of them excuse me Mr.President, but we'll get to his case later on, in some other post). The American political class have kept this nation in a horrific gridlock. As we morn the dead in Tucson and all over the nation let us morn also the millions of lives shattered by the gridlock that obstructs Washington, the jobs lost, the soldiers still dying in Afghanistan for no given reason for we have no real plan, the millions of sick that need heath care so bad, but won't see it because the republicans have decided to destroy as always all the reforms the democrats made before them and this visa versa for some years now.
Now take me for no fool, I understand very well that, politics is no easy affair and that consensus is never easy to find, but as I was watching a CNN report the other day, the journalist was ecstatic saying "that the congress had found complete consensus in condemning the murders". We are better then that. It's time to find some common sense as Pain said and in doing so some common ground in this nation.
Just as the end of the year of 2008 was a crisis for the financial world and we had the chance to fix it so Tucson is a crisis in depth for our political system, and now stands before us the opportunity to fix things once and for all, to clean up our political classes and our corridors of congress that have been too full of lobbyists and others of their "genre". An opportunity now stands before us to renew our broken democracy.
The lasts words of Sarah Palin in her address to the nation were very interesting i find "God bless America", it's in fact not time for the "god bless americas" it's time for more for some "whats wrong with America?"
Sky
Now when I talk about circumstances, I guess everyone that will read this post is up to date with the flow of current events in Arizona. Yes in the small town of Tucson, Arizona Saturday the 8th horror shaded the town forever. During a meeting with her constituents congresswomen Gabrielle Giffords a progressive democrat, that had voted for the so called "Obamacare" reform and that was the an essential target on the tea party's list, was wounded during a killing spree that took the life of 6 people of those the chief judge of Arizona a well known progressive voice in the state and a 9 year old girl that happened to be born on the 11th of September 2001. I've took the time to reflect and hear everyone's point of view before posting this, I'm not the one that is in need of a scapegoat for some gain of political points, but the truth is that this incident fatefully shows that the whole system is to be condemned in my point of view much more so then the young man.
First of all as always, before even knowing the really causes that engaged this young mind on a killing spree every media in the country qualified the young man as a monster and very dis-equilibrated mentally. The fact is even if this young man is as some say "crasy" the thing we have to know is what push him to commit such an act. In my point of view the act was not just pure folly far from that. The individual knew very well who he was going to shoot down and try to kill a congresswomen.
A congresswomen Gabrielle Giffords, that had been the target of all of the hate of the political tea party machine, during the fall elections interviewed inhabitants of Tucson said to have rarely seen any such hate campaign in " a town where everyone knows everybody".
The thing is that such hate campaigns are not marginal anymore, since the end of the 2008 election in which things were already turning nasty, with the fake allegations that Obama for having a middle name Hussein was in fact a Muslim, a whole anti-Muslim campaign was produced by the Palin machine during the final weeks of running, a racist xenophobic campaign that made tensions boil up to the boiling point. Then things seemed to cool down a bit and then during the summer of 2009 when the tea party felt that they were losing grasp of the political world, the machine once again decided to unleash hell upon the Obama administration. People would come loaded to town hall meetings, during the protests in Washington during the heath-care debate, photos of Obama as Hitler or as monk were a common view. And today Miss Palin asks herself on national television "how did we get here?"
The fact is that Palin and the entire tea party are not smart enough to answer anyway else so really I'm not going to waste much time on that subject. The fact is that tensions have flared and have cumulated to this horrific point and in the building up to this moment the tea party has played an essential if not central role.
In fact not just the tea party, but the entire American political class with some honorific exceptions (in my view the president himself is not one of them excuse me Mr.President, but we'll get to his case later on, in some other post). The American political class have kept this nation in a horrific gridlock. As we morn the dead in Tucson and all over the nation let us morn also the millions of lives shattered by the gridlock that obstructs Washington, the jobs lost, the soldiers still dying in Afghanistan for no given reason for we have no real plan, the millions of sick that need heath care so bad, but won't see it because the republicans have decided to destroy as always all the reforms the democrats made before them and this visa versa for some years now.
Now take me for no fool, I understand very well that, politics is no easy affair and that consensus is never easy to find, but as I was watching a CNN report the other day, the journalist was ecstatic saying "that the congress had found complete consensus in condemning the murders". We are better then that. It's time to find some common sense as Pain said and in doing so some common ground in this nation.
Just as the end of the year of 2008 was a crisis for the financial world and we had the chance to fix it so Tucson is a crisis in depth for our political system, and now stands before us the opportunity to fix things once and for all, to clean up our political classes and our corridors of congress that have been too full of lobbyists and others of their "genre". An opportunity now stands before us to renew our broken democracy.
The lasts words of Sarah Palin in her address to the nation were very interesting i find "God bless America", it's in fact not time for the "god bless americas" it's time for more for some "whats wrong with America?"
Sky
Monday, 26 July 2010
The city
I feel empty. Like some kind of receptacle through which fly fleeting memories of moments long gone. I feel disorientated. Walking towards no clear goal, walking in straight lines down boulevards of unknown names. Daytime spent in the illusion of discovery; nights dwelling in the painful drool of what is no longer, gasping for the bleakest signal of human contact, waiting on what never comes, never saves me from myself. That is all I have now. And now even that begins to look at me with disgust in the mirror. That is all I know. And now like a rotten fruit, its very thought is of the vilest nature to me.
All I need is the smallest encounter. Even the most insignificant and the least edifying conversation seems like some golden oasis I desperately wait for. But I can't even walk towards it. The city is a foe. Anonymous I am, anonymous I will stay, until the past resurges in a concrete form to authentify discovery. With no footing, I cannot step through this muck, to the other side of the sewer that some call a road.
I am now of here, but I am not here. I exist, but yet I am invisible. I am a number but not a person. I am not waiting for them to come to me, but some kind of bridge. There is no bridge for now.
Being a number is not enough. That is all that is expected from me. And how does this work?
Red
Tuesday, 10 November 2009
The Mountain Top
Around 60 years ago from the heights of a stage, above some unconditional believers, a young preacher would say some words. Now it wasn't that long of a preach, no the preacher made a short speech. But even so those few words that, the preacher said on that heated April night, would go down forever in the scriptures of history. He stood there and yet in front of some amazed spectators he was unlike himself, he shivered and his nerves consumed him.
He stood on top of that mountain, and said that he had seen the promised land there, that he had heard the voice of the almighty himself. He said that the voice of the almighty called upon us to follow him to the top of the tall mountain, through the white blistering snows, through the rocky path until the green grasses of the valley of the promised land. The preacher shook and quivered, it was as if god had took control of his spirit and through him, through the young preacher from Georgia he had pronounced his final message. At the end of the speech the preacher collapsed, fell into his chair as if his mission was accomplished, and it actually was for the next morning God opened the gates of heaven to receive him.
Since that hated April night back in the year of 1968, not a lot has changed frankly at least for the better in my point of view. For you see at least in the times of the preacher people had hope, people believed that a new day was to come. And today in this superficial society we have forgotten the values that made that young preacher walk, that made that young preacher speak out, and fight for what he believed in. It's as if today we had gave up in some sorts the fight, at least the real fight. We think that our little personal fights are important and we let those little fights take over. We watch from our ivory towers, through out tainted glasses and in our grandiose cars the fire surrounding us. And all falls, and all falls, into the sea.
Everything around us crumbles and yet I stand here and watch. The day the preacher died, thousands went to the streets, thousands with fire had the idea to bring down the system, they burnt, they brunt, only to awake up surrounded by the ashes of their fire, not knowing why they had set the fire in the first place. They awoke and forgot why they were fighting, why they had fought and all went back to normal. Yes throughout years the preacher had died in vain, all had the memory of him none really did know what to with that memory. And so years went by and those that had once walked with the preacher forgot too, they still walked, but not knowing why. And all fell, and fell, into the sea.
Clouds of greed, and of selfishness had covered the mountain top, for us to see it no more. So we where born and lived thinking that all was perfectly normal, we lived our lives thinking about seconds, minutes and hours. Those that remember that great ideal, those that could still see the shine of the mountain top in their heads, tried to hide behind their material possessions , their big cars and houses, their money. And all falls, and all falls, into the sea.
We stood here and watched our prophets die.
So today in these dark times, times of despair in the winter of our hardship. Let us remember the wise words of once upon a time a young preacher who called upon a generation to leave their place of comfort and pleasure, and give in all of their material love trade it for truth. He said that instead of material riches what we needed was truth, instead of good intentions, he asked "give me justice" and rather then inflexible walls and tinted mirrors give me love. For some the call that resonated from the top of the marshes of Washington is completely and entirely bound to death. Many do not catch the universal grasp of the image that the young preacher left behind, for many he is but a leader of his people, a leader limited to his situation and captive of circumstances. For some believe that the young preacher's message was and is more important to some of us then the rest of us, they be wrong. Yes the preacher was a black man, but his message had no colour, and we must not enslave his message. Today we do have a black man at the head of the preacher's fatherland, that even accomplished does not make his message moribund.
For today, the long winding road that leads to the promised land is still shaded by the shadows of doubt. Yes things have changed since the preacher gave his final speech from which years separate us. We keep our looks focused on the big lights that now shine on a once dark conner, we are amazed and we stall in front of these shining lights. But as one little conner of the scene grabs our attention the vast darkness that is the rest of the scene escapes our view.
That young preacher is my hero, I believe that his voice lives on, and in his voice lives the voices of so many others, for what I mean is that what that young preacher tried to do during his stay on earth was to continue the work of so many that sacrificed their destiny and blood to accomplish. The names of those are many, some known, some not. The eternal fight between reason and fanaticism, between truth and lust, on goes. The valley shall descend, only when man wins that fight, the inner fight that defines mankind, the fight between the greater man and the inner beast. And today it looks like more then ever, we must hear and follow the call of the young preacher, we might not slay the beast in one, two, five or maybe even ten generations, but when we do the flowing black water torrent that poisons our fertile land shall dry-up.
We must slay the inner beast. Do you hear the bell toll?
Sky
He stood on top of that mountain, and said that he had seen the promised land there, that he had heard the voice of the almighty himself. He said that the voice of the almighty called upon us to follow him to the top of the tall mountain, through the white blistering snows, through the rocky path until the green grasses of the valley of the promised land. The preacher shook and quivered, it was as if god had took control of his spirit and through him, through the young preacher from Georgia he had pronounced his final message. At the end of the speech the preacher collapsed, fell into his chair as if his mission was accomplished, and it actually was for the next morning God opened the gates of heaven to receive him.
Since that hated April night back in the year of 1968, not a lot has changed frankly at least for the better in my point of view. For you see at least in the times of the preacher people had hope, people believed that a new day was to come. And today in this superficial society we have forgotten the values that made that young preacher walk, that made that young preacher speak out, and fight for what he believed in. It's as if today we had gave up in some sorts the fight, at least the real fight. We think that our little personal fights are important and we let those little fights take over. We watch from our ivory towers, through out tainted glasses and in our grandiose cars the fire surrounding us. And all falls, and all falls, into the sea.
Everything around us crumbles and yet I stand here and watch. The day the preacher died, thousands went to the streets, thousands with fire had the idea to bring down the system, they burnt, they brunt, only to awake up surrounded by the ashes of their fire, not knowing why they had set the fire in the first place. They awoke and forgot why they were fighting, why they had fought and all went back to normal. Yes throughout years the preacher had died in vain, all had the memory of him none really did know what to with that memory. And so years went by and those that had once walked with the preacher forgot too, they still walked, but not knowing why. And all fell, and fell, into the sea.
Clouds of greed, and of selfishness had covered the mountain top, for us to see it no more. So we where born and lived thinking that all was perfectly normal, we lived our lives thinking about seconds, minutes and hours. Those that remember that great ideal, those that could still see the shine of the mountain top in their heads, tried to hide behind their material possessions , their big cars and houses, their money. And all falls, and all falls, into the sea.
We stood here and watched our prophets die.
So today in these dark times, times of despair in the winter of our hardship. Let us remember the wise words of once upon a time a young preacher who called upon a generation to leave their place of comfort and pleasure, and give in all of their material love trade it for truth. He said that instead of material riches what we needed was truth, instead of good intentions, he asked "give me justice" and rather then inflexible walls and tinted mirrors give me love. For some the call that resonated from the top of the marshes of Washington is completely and entirely bound to death. Many do not catch the universal grasp of the image that the young preacher left behind, for many he is but a leader of his people, a leader limited to his situation and captive of circumstances. For some believe that the young preacher's message was and is more important to some of us then the rest of us, they be wrong. Yes the preacher was a black man, but his message had no colour, and we must not enslave his message. Today we do have a black man at the head of the preacher's fatherland, that even accomplished does not make his message moribund.
For today, the long winding road that leads to the promised land is still shaded by the shadows of doubt. Yes things have changed since the preacher gave his final speech from which years separate us. We keep our looks focused on the big lights that now shine on a once dark conner, we are amazed and we stall in front of these shining lights. But as one little conner of the scene grabs our attention the vast darkness that is the rest of the scene escapes our view.
That young preacher is my hero, I believe that his voice lives on, and in his voice lives the voices of so many others, for what I mean is that what that young preacher tried to do during his stay on earth was to continue the work of so many that sacrificed their destiny and blood to accomplish. The names of those are many, some known, some not. The eternal fight between reason and fanaticism, between truth and lust, on goes. The valley shall descend, only when man wins that fight, the inner fight that defines mankind, the fight between the greater man and the inner beast. And today it looks like more then ever, we must hear and follow the call of the young preacher, we might not slay the beast in one, two, five or maybe even ten generations, but when we do the flowing black water torrent that poisons our fertile land shall dry-up.
We must slay the inner beast. Do you hear the bell toll?
Sky
Saturday, 3 October 2009
Kier
This post is dedicated to my brother Kieran...
Hey Kid it's been a long time, days pass, nights too, and yet I can not the distinguish light from dark. It's been a long away down this twisty road since the last time we saw each other. Hasn't it now? Sometimes at night I stay awake and just think how this situation is just so wrong, and how hate can just destroy paradises from the inside out. I guess it was just destiny or something like that right? or was it?
Deep down it just feels so wrong, right down in my heart I just can't fix this leak, and I just have to get this dirt off my shoulders, I have to get this off my conscience.So just sit back kid and watch what's going down.
Remember that one night, it was some time ago, up in the north. Remember when we sat and watched the great show, the northern lights. If you don't, I do remember this. I remember that throughout that harsh winter, the coldest winter I went through, the winter of our hardship. I guess that, that winter was just some sort of a metaphor right? It was just the start, the start of a long lonely track, a track throughout which our road divided in two. It was like we where walking on the same road, but even so we didn't see each other, or if we saw each other's hardship we watched in vain. Like the time we watch our dog die and yet we could do nothing to stop his pain, we just watched and finally, he got the easy way out.
Sometimes I wish I'd have a needle, to put an end to this everlasting winter. I guess it just ain't that easy!
I do remember those nights in Sioux Lookout, when we would stay up and wonder if tomorrow anything would change.I remember those grey skies, and how sometimes we would just fade away because living in reality was just not worth it. Was it? It's been a long time since then, and people say we aren't the same, that we are different now, and bro I don't believe in that B.S. A long time has passed since then kid, a long time but for sure we aren't that different, we aren't aliens as they say, and even if there's been some bumps on the way here, one thing is for sure we never looked back. Did we?
I remember the time we where bitten by the frost of the burning snow, by the red of the winter. I remember you where the one that helped me back up, not mom or dad, not any friend or any other person, you. During this period of my life, I look back often on that cold winter, I look back on the time we stayed at the reserve, I guess that it was the period that made us who we are today.
But the problem is that, its images still haunt me like I've got ghosts flowing over my head and some times they even inhabit my mind. I probably believe that its now more then ever that I have to look back upon my past, and try to understand why I am, the way I am. But somewhere down the road, somewhere on this path I screwed up bad, somewhere I left you, I let you down, didn't I?
I guess that why sometimes you get so cool on me, I guess that's why sometimes you don't believe I'm your brother anymore. And man how the hell, do you want me to say, that you've got it all wrong? What brother would rather try to capture grace, instead of giving a hand to his own brother? But I guess thats just the essence of live, I guess I'm just some sort of pawn, that life uses, and abuses of.
But that would be too easy, to say that my actions are controlled by someone other then myself, by some supernatural force, that utopia is the refuge of the weak, and I can't be weak in your eyes!
I guess all started when we left Picton, on that sunny June day, remember how for once in our lives we where happy in Picton, and then like everything that was nice in our lives, it floated away like a cool breeze right? Remember how once we believe, we belonged somewhere and then we took away, and we had to start all over again. Remember how those trips from the great north to the south where long, remember? But never where they as long as the trip that started, the day the winter started in Sioux Lookout. I guess that winter started and it still has to end. That's why many times, when I have a good situation in front of me, around me, I just fuck up everything. I guess, I just can't stand the cold.
Since the time, I last saw you, I've last been with you as your equal, as your brother, the day that car pulled out of the driveway, a lot of things have happened. But even that has been like a mirage, nothing has been real, because the only thing in my life I had, that was real, was you, and I guess I just wasn't fit to have it. Never did, and probably I will never have, a friendship so true, and so pure as the one we had. And no its not just because your my brother. I guess that through the tangles of this tricky winter I did learn somethings. I learned that finally there will never be peace, that probably we will never find peace, on this earth, in our living.
Probably we will never see each other the same way again, will we? But I guess that if this message has a mission, it is that one, to bring peace once again in this family, sometimes I wonder where are were the people we need? When we need them the most. Where are they when we need them? They're never there are they? I guess your asking yourself exactly the same question about me aren't you now brother, tell the truth. The fact is that I'm writing here the notion that I believe in the most, but also the notion I betrayed. At least if I write it down here it will not inhabit my thoughts anymore. The fact is that I believed in you, probably more then I believed in myself, this of course I told you already. Now when I left, I felt that somehow I was becoming the monster that lived in my closet through my childhood, the reason why I kept my light on at night. But this time there was no light for you.
I guess that I want, you to know all of this because, life can be fast, and I don't want to go into the soil of earth, without having said, these things. Brother, just know that even if I'm not there next to you, even if I'm not there throughout your hardship, if I'm not there to protect you, even if I'm not there to be your armour, I'm still here. And listen do not rejoice every time you hear my voice, because the day will come, when no walls or barriers will be between us, the day will come when they will fall, crumble at our feet, and no more will stupid shit, keep us apart. One day we will find peace somehow, somewhere we will find it, and if they don't want peace we will impose peace once and for all on this broken family, and we will fix the holes of this broken house. And Kier if everything around you falls, and everyone you ever believed in gives up on you. Remember if your world crumbles at your feet, you will find refuge beside me, I will be there. I know that in the past I haven't be that brother, I wasn't the brother you needed. But now that brother is here, and we will put an end to that winter that started in the snows of the northern woods.
I remember one night we looked up, to the sky. One night we looked up to the sky, and we saw the northern lights, even though the cold of the winter surrounded us, all we felt was heat.
Sky
Hey Kid it's been a long time, days pass, nights too, and yet I can not the distinguish light from dark. It's been a long away down this twisty road since the last time we saw each other. Hasn't it now? Sometimes at night I stay awake and just think how this situation is just so wrong, and how hate can just destroy paradises from the inside out. I guess it was just destiny or something like that right? or was it?
Deep down it just feels so wrong, right down in my heart I just can't fix this leak, and I just have to get this dirt off my shoulders, I have to get this off my conscience.So just sit back kid and watch what's going down.
Remember that one night, it was some time ago, up in the north. Remember when we sat and watched the great show, the northern lights. If you don't, I do remember this. I remember that throughout that harsh winter, the coldest winter I went through, the winter of our hardship. I guess that, that winter was just some sort of a metaphor right? It was just the start, the start of a long lonely track, a track throughout which our road divided in two. It was like we where walking on the same road, but even so we didn't see each other, or if we saw each other's hardship we watched in vain. Like the time we watch our dog die and yet we could do nothing to stop his pain, we just watched and finally, he got the easy way out.
Sometimes I wish I'd have a needle, to put an end to this everlasting winter. I guess it just ain't that easy!
I do remember those nights in Sioux Lookout, when we would stay up and wonder if tomorrow anything would change.I remember those grey skies, and how sometimes we would just fade away because living in reality was just not worth it. Was it? It's been a long time since then, and people say we aren't the same, that we are different now, and bro I don't believe in that B.S. A long time has passed since then kid, a long time but for sure we aren't that different, we aren't aliens as they say, and even if there's been some bumps on the way here, one thing is for sure we never looked back. Did we?
I remember the time we where bitten by the frost of the burning snow, by the red of the winter. I remember you where the one that helped me back up, not mom or dad, not any friend or any other person, you. During this period of my life, I look back often on that cold winter, I look back on the time we stayed at the reserve, I guess that it was the period that made us who we are today.
But the problem is that, its images still haunt me like I've got ghosts flowing over my head and some times they even inhabit my mind. I probably believe that its now more then ever that I have to look back upon my past, and try to understand why I am, the way I am. But somewhere down the road, somewhere on this path I screwed up bad, somewhere I left you, I let you down, didn't I?
I guess that why sometimes you get so cool on me, I guess that's why sometimes you don't believe I'm your brother anymore. And man how the hell, do you want me to say, that you've got it all wrong? What brother would rather try to capture grace, instead of giving a hand to his own brother? But I guess thats just the essence of live, I guess I'm just some sort of pawn, that life uses, and abuses of.
But that would be too easy, to say that my actions are controlled by someone other then myself, by some supernatural force, that utopia is the refuge of the weak, and I can't be weak in your eyes!
I guess all started when we left Picton, on that sunny June day, remember how for once in our lives we where happy in Picton, and then like everything that was nice in our lives, it floated away like a cool breeze right? Remember how once we believe, we belonged somewhere and then we took away, and we had to start all over again. Remember how those trips from the great north to the south where long, remember? But never where they as long as the trip that started, the day the winter started in Sioux Lookout. I guess that winter started and it still has to end. That's why many times, when I have a good situation in front of me, around me, I just fuck up everything. I guess, I just can't stand the cold.
Since the time, I last saw you, I've last been with you as your equal, as your brother, the day that car pulled out of the driveway, a lot of things have happened. But even that has been like a mirage, nothing has been real, because the only thing in my life I had, that was real, was you, and I guess I just wasn't fit to have it. Never did, and probably I will never have, a friendship so true, and so pure as the one we had. And no its not just because your my brother. I guess that through the tangles of this tricky winter I did learn somethings. I learned that finally there will never be peace, that probably we will never find peace, on this earth, in our living.
Probably we will never see each other the same way again, will we? But I guess that if this message has a mission, it is that one, to bring peace once again in this family, sometimes I wonder where are were the people we need? When we need them the most. Where are they when we need them? They're never there are they? I guess your asking yourself exactly the same question about me aren't you now brother, tell the truth. The fact is that I'm writing here the notion that I believe in the most, but also the notion I betrayed. At least if I write it down here it will not inhabit my thoughts anymore. The fact is that I believed in you, probably more then I believed in myself, this of course I told you already. Now when I left, I felt that somehow I was becoming the monster that lived in my closet through my childhood, the reason why I kept my light on at night. But this time there was no light for you.
I guess that I want, you to know all of this because, life can be fast, and I don't want to go into the soil of earth, without having said, these things. Brother, just know that even if I'm not there next to you, even if I'm not there throughout your hardship, if I'm not there to protect you, even if I'm not there to be your armour, I'm still here. And listen do not rejoice every time you hear my voice, because the day will come, when no walls or barriers will be between us, the day will come when they will fall, crumble at our feet, and no more will stupid shit, keep us apart. One day we will find peace somehow, somewhere we will find it, and if they don't want peace we will impose peace once and for all on this broken family, and we will fix the holes of this broken house. And Kier if everything around you falls, and everyone you ever believed in gives up on you. Remember if your world crumbles at your feet, you will find refuge beside me, I will be there. I know that in the past I haven't be that brother, I wasn't the brother you needed. But now that brother is here, and we will put an end to that winter that started in the snows of the northern woods.
I remember one night we looked up, to the sky. One night we looked up to the sky, and we saw the northern lights, even though the cold of the winter surrounded us, all we felt was heat.
Sky
Thursday, 1 October 2009
Build stuff and nuke it
Books, television, music, painting, drawing, building, cars, politics, sports: a man's got to do what a man's got to do. To turn this damn section of our brain into something constructive. Even better if you throw destruction somewhere in the equation. Because if there's two things a man likes, it's construction and destruction.
Oh how sorrowful it is that we are eternally tied to the tentacles of occupation. Men thrive to reach higher levels of whatever all in the goal to not be left without anything. More so, men seek to be never left alone with their own thoughts.
For what unpleasurable things men will find when they are confronted to the depths of their minds. Eternally running away from or what they can't understand, because incomprehension inevitably breeds frustration and hatred. Men drown their misery in alcohol, bury their shame in great works and jump into cars to run away from what they do not comprehend.
There lies dormant within each of us the silky threads of the spider. In eternal darkness the threads bind, wind and un-wind, forever and ever and ever, and these are mechanisms men fear so much. These same threads are held together by the very subtle balance of what composes a man's mind.
No one wants to truly be aware of this subtle balance we all try to keep up with our grandiose illusions, forever hoping the thread doesn't snap under the weight of some inconvenient truth. Consciousness is thereby punishing, as we are aware of every step we take down the ladder, every move we make through the jungle and those great jumps into the insanity that is our hidden mind.
Clouds and fairytales; some sort of pillar of life that we grab on and from which we kick all those who look behind.
We are animals and we are gods. We stand on this thin line: fall over and you're an animal. Try to fall over the other side and you'll get a wall in your face. And when those who spent their lives looking after some final illusion find none, they split in two: one side falls over and turns into an animal, the other jumps over the wall.
I'm sorry that I'm always such a pessimist, but all this fucking constant anxiety is getting me down.
Red
Oh how sorrowful it is that we are eternally tied to the tentacles of occupation. Men thrive to reach higher levels of whatever all in the goal to not be left without anything. More so, men seek to be never left alone with their own thoughts.
For what unpleasurable things men will find when they are confronted to the depths of their minds. Eternally running away from or what they can't understand, because incomprehension inevitably breeds frustration and hatred. Men drown their misery in alcohol, bury their shame in great works and jump into cars to run away from what they do not comprehend.
There lies dormant within each of us the silky threads of the spider. In eternal darkness the threads bind, wind and un-wind, forever and ever and ever, and these are mechanisms men fear so much. These same threads are held together by the very subtle balance of what composes a man's mind.
No one wants to truly be aware of this subtle balance we all try to keep up with our grandiose illusions, forever hoping the thread doesn't snap under the weight of some inconvenient truth. Consciousness is thereby punishing, as we are aware of every step we take down the ladder, every move we make through the jungle and those great jumps into the insanity that is our hidden mind.
Clouds and fairytales; some sort of pillar of life that we grab on and from which we kick all those who look behind.
We are animals and we are gods. We stand on this thin line: fall over and you're an animal. Try to fall over the other side and you'll get a wall in your face. And when those who spent their lives looking after some final illusion find none, they split in two: one side falls over and turns into an animal, the other jumps over the wall.
I'm sorry that I'm always such a pessimist, but all this fucking constant anxiety is getting me down.
Red
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