This morning, I ate some of the cookies my housemates had baked. Not the cookies they’d decorated laboriously, of course, but the bastard plain ones, those misshaped and odd.
There’s more dough in the fridge that I intend to bake up into more cookies - to replace the ones I ate this morning. I’d bought the dough yesterday, you see, because someone had been reduced to tears after learning that the last of the first batch of cookies made a couple of days ago had disappeared down my gaping maw at breakfast time.
I’m trying something where I make an effort to fix the grief and heartbreak I cause in this world instead of ignoring it until it subsides. The dough for making sugar cookies sells for fewer than three dollars, which is more expensive than necessary considering one can buy a container of eight sugar cookies perfectly formed and professionally baked for only a single dollar. The extra dollar and a half, it seems, are the price one pays for adding an egg and a stick of butter and then forming and baking the dough oneself, waiting for it to rise, hovering near the oven, and being disappointed when the cookies don’t come out right.
Next time, maybe I’ll buy the cheaper cookies, microwave them for thirty-odd seconds, then announce that I baked cookies and does anyone want to help decorate them?
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
30 August 2017
28 August 2017
haiku 28 August 2017
The old wounds linger
Never fully healing well
There’s no cure for grief
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
Never fully healing well
There’s no cure for grief
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
25 August 2017
ode to memes
The page is slow to load
But I want so badly to see what’s next.
Will it be a moving meme
An addled prancing cat, perhaps,
Or a pop idol’s face pasted crudely onto pussy genitals
And a few hollow puns to link the two together?
There’s no way to tell what will come next,
Or if I’m even ready for what might come next,
Or if any worthwhile posts have filled my feed
Since the last time I refreshed it, mere moments ago.
If any meme-makers are listening, keep mining for memes.
No matter how many whining pup-seals you have to club
Or what priceless antique treasures you must deface,
Just make it happen:
Please find the memes that mankind needs.
Memes are life;
without them, I starve.
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
But I want so badly to see what’s next.
Will it be a moving meme
An addled prancing cat, perhaps,
Or a pop idol’s face pasted crudely onto pussy genitals
And a few hollow puns to link the two together?
There’s no way to tell what will come next,
Or if I’m even ready for what might come next,
Or if any worthwhile posts have filled my feed
Since the last time I refreshed it, mere moments ago.
If any meme-makers are listening, keep mining for memes.
No matter how many whining pup-seals you have to club
Or what priceless antique treasures you must deface,
Just make it happen:
Please find the memes that mankind needs.
Memes are life;
without them, I starve.
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
23 August 2017
giving zero fox
In the midst of all of the political hemming and hawing, with hateful words and bitter accusations filling the various media, please remember that the wind still blows.
Trees stand outside, soaking up the sun, giving zero fox. Giant squid plumb the ocean’s depths, in search of ‘parm and treasure, oblivious to angry humans shouting loudly. Birds chirp, their sharp eyes spying worms and crawling critters, their beaks and talons always working; the birds don’t care which factions calls which other faction terrorist, or how many groups claim the right to pieces of ground on patches of earth.
The birds and the wind and the trees and the squids do not care about anything. We humans call ourselves smart, worthy, and civilized, but we’re none of these things, and have no right to call ourselves these things, even though we kill each other to prove otherwise.
The wind don’t care about that, either.
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
Trees stand outside, soaking up the sun, giving zero fox. Giant squid plumb the ocean’s depths, in search of ‘parm and treasure, oblivious to angry humans shouting loudly. Birds chirp, their sharp eyes spying worms and crawling critters, their beaks and talons always working; the birds don’t care which factions calls which other faction terrorist, or how many groups claim the right to pieces of ground on patches of earth.
The birds and the wind and the trees and the squids do not care about anything. We humans call ourselves smart, worthy, and civilized, but we’re none of these things, and have no right to call ourselves these things, even though we kill each other to prove otherwise.
The wind don’t care about that, either.
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
21 August 2017
and rebirth beckons
Hopes fails, dreams shatter. Sadness emerges, and, with it, fear. Concern for one’s own future sharpens, fear blossoming into anger. And then anger mutates into self-righteous indignation at anything perceived to be the root cause of one’s problems. Even if the people or choices targeted actually have nothing to do with one’s problems, they become the focus of one’s hatred.
Within the morally vacuous, cacophonous self-pity factories that social media sites and other internet message boards often are, one’s indignation grows while at the same time, however, the size and origin of one’s problems stay the same. Soon, anger spills over into aggression, hot and sour words hurled unnecessarily at others in one’s web of contacts. The hurt doesn’t go away, prompting one to pile on the grief in an effort to smother it. Still, it lingers, now a sucking and festering wound wrapped tightly around the once-soothing tendrils of ever-loving heartspace.
Gradually, one’s web of social contacts shrinks, its individual strands broken, severed, neglected. More and more isolated does one then become, so isolated and lonely in fact that fear and anger appear more and more real. Suddenly, it’s all one can seem to think about, how stupid and foolish and misguided everyone else is, how simple the solutions to this nation’s and this city’s and this block’s problems are. ‘If only people would just listen to me,’ one thinks, an angry, lonely voice screaming into the yawning void. Pitiable, the soul struggling to withstand twin onslaughts of negativity and self-loathing, the world suddenly an evil and unwelcoming place, the last strands give out.
Yet there within the charred and blackened ruins of one’s real and online lives glimmer, diamond-like, the compressed jewels of love, hope, and compassion. And rebirth beckons.
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
Within the morally vacuous, cacophonous self-pity factories that social media sites and other internet message boards often are, one’s indignation grows while at the same time, however, the size and origin of one’s problems stay the same. Soon, anger spills over into aggression, hot and sour words hurled unnecessarily at others in one’s web of contacts. The hurt doesn’t go away, prompting one to pile on the grief in an effort to smother it. Still, it lingers, now a sucking and festering wound wrapped tightly around the once-soothing tendrils of ever-loving heartspace.
Gradually, one’s web of social contacts shrinks, its individual strands broken, severed, neglected. More and more isolated does one then become, so isolated and lonely in fact that fear and anger appear more and more real. Suddenly, it’s all one can seem to think about, how stupid and foolish and misguided everyone else is, how simple the solutions to this nation’s and this city’s and this block’s problems are. ‘If only people would just listen to me,’ one thinks, an angry, lonely voice screaming into the yawning void. Pitiable, the soul struggling to withstand twin onslaughts of negativity and self-loathing, the world suddenly an evil and unwelcoming place, the last strands give out.
Yet there within the charred and blackened ruins of one’s real and online lives glimmer, diamond-like, the compressed jewels of love, hope, and compassion. And rebirth beckons.
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
18 August 2017
a familiar troll
A troll haunts my feed, always lurking, always waiting. From behind a blind he pounces on pieces I post to my page, then lashes out at me with withering hatred designed to harm. He is family, you see, and has given himself leave to flense and dig and root and tear, shredding at my social postings publicly.
There are anger and frustration behind his words, volumes of simmering rage that have cleared finally the cresting dams of reason, and of rhyme. Upset he seems at the state of things in this here land of plenty, blinded by a steady blast of racist white-pride bloggers. Perhaps something inside him is wounded at the thought that privileges are ending.
To respond to injury with injury goes against the ancient teachings, but failing to respond in defense of myself leaves mine own heartstrings wounded. Obscurity, then, is my only redoubt, to which I now rush gladly.
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
There are anger and frustration behind his words, volumes of simmering rage that have cleared finally the cresting dams of reason, and of rhyme. Upset he seems at the state of things in this here land of plenty, blinded by a steady blast of racist white-pride bloggers. Perhaps something inside him is wounded at the thought that privileges are ending.
To respond to injury with injury goes against the ancient teachings, but failing to respond in defense of myself leaves mine own heartstrings wounded. Obscurity, then, is my only redoubt, to which I now rush gladly.
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
16 August 2017
on battling hatred
Tragedy marked this past weekend, with one person killed and many more badly injured in an act of apparent domestic terrorism in Charlottesville, VA. Concurrent with that violent act, in a public display of wild-eyed and misguided extremism, hundreds of middle-class European-Americans marched through said city holding torches and shouting slogans straight out of Adolf Hitler’s ‘Mein Kampf’. People who are now suddenly worried about the current rise of alt-right and neo-Nazi mentalities here in America must remember that Donald J. Trump ascended to the presidency on ideas nationalist, protectionist, and us-versus-them in their scope and design. In some sense, the alt-right stands today victorious, having helped vote its champion into this nation’s highest office. Hence, statements by leaders of the white-nationalist movement praising the president for his recent stance on their right to rally and organize with intent to subjugate and destroy.
The city of Boston this year decided to display a poster aimed at teaching people who use its public transportation services how to diffuse Islamophobia. It is this author’s personal experience that the most effective method for fighting violent extremism is to ignore the perpetrator and show love to the victims. In Charlottesville, VA, last weekend, citizens protesting the alt-right sometimes did the opposite, fighting violence with violence and hatred with hatred.
Although he disagrees with them on nearly every point (but for their right to keep breathing), this author thinks it’s important to let the alt-right, neo-Nazi, and white nationalist movements not only voice their ugly opinions but also march in public. If they’re banned from letting their true colors fly, open-minded and cosmopolitan lovers of freedom will never know whom to avoid socially, whose businesses to boycott or divest from, whose places of worship to picket, and whom to deny service as well as the time of day. (Since its financial support of organizations perpetuating homophobic bigotry came to light, this author hasn’t set foot inside of a Chick-fil-A, for example.) One slow, methodical way to crush America’s Nazi problem is to do so economically, a dollar at a time. Another way, is to crush it with clubs and sticks and knives and guns, like many of our grandparents did in Europe and beyond during the 1940s.
To destroy the creeping roots of incessant hatred it is often necessary to resort to violence. So long as one does so with positive intentions and for the benefit of all humanity, resting well at night should come easy. Just remember, though, that America’s white nationalists think that what they’re doing is for the benefit of all humanity, or at least the light-skinned portion of humanity whose ancestors come from Europe. Whichever path you choose in your resistance to bigotry and intolerance in America, stay grounded and don’t panic.
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
The city of Boston this year decided to display a poster aimed at teaching people who use its public transportation services how to diffuse Islamophobia. It is this author’s personal experience that the most effective method for fighting violent extremism is to ignore the perpetrator and show love to the victims. In Charlottesville, VA, last weekend, citizens protesting the alt-right sometimes did the opposite, fighting violence with violence and hatred with hatred.
Although he disagrees with them on nearly every point (but for their right to keep breathing), this author thinks it’s important to let the alt-right, neo-Nazi, and white nationalist movements not only voice their ugly opinions but also march in public. If they’re banned from letting their true colors fly, open-minded and cosmopolitan lovers of freedom will never know whom to avoid socially, whose businesses to boycott or divest from, whose places of worship to picket, and whom to deny service as well as the time of day. (Since its financial support of organizations perpetuating homophobic bigotry came to light, this author hasn’t set foot inside of a Chick-fil-A, for example.) One slow, methodical way to crush America’s Nazi problem is to do so economically, a dollar at a time. Another way, is to crush it with clubs and sticks and knives and guns, like many of our grandparents did in Europe and beyond during the 1940s.
To destroy the creeping roots of incessant hatred it is often necessary to resort to violence. So long as one does so with positive intentions and for the benefit of all humanity, resting well at night should come easy. Just remember, though, that America’s white nationalists think that what they’re doing is for the benefit of all humanity, or at least the light-skinned portion of humanity whose ancestors come from Europe. Whichever path you choose in your resistance to bigotry and intolerance in America, stay grounded and don’t panic.
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
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