My Thoughts Inexactly: W is for Willing, otra vez

The easy road gets harder as your body atrophies, and the hard road gets easier as your body is exercised along it.

Speak visceral words such that one loses not only their sleep, but also their sleepiness.

Love is the ultimate rebellion against individualism.

Remove all that has been instilled in you, and then find that there is more of you not less of you.

If you are too careful—and you homestead in the forest quietly and peacefully with only a few friends—you may let death pass you by. Your FOMO from the extinction event of our epoch is truly warranted!

The asymmetrical conquers in an instant what the symmetrical can’t even imagine given an eternity.

Ideology is the surrogate brain you rely on when your own is faulty or missing.

Not only do we need to rebel against the state, we need to rebel in a very deep way against ourselves. The bodies and minds we inhabit have become very static, in many ways.

You cant see the consequences of past bad decisions when you are the consequence.

On Earth a hundred years from now, all that will remain are the scars we left, and possibly our progeny. It is up to us whether or not the two are the same thing.


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My Thoughts Inexactly: G is for Gathering (edited)

The clouds of your heaven cast a great shadow over our Earth.

If everyone around you is in bonds, it’s bound to happen that you are included.

The best defense against the powerful is to become power oneself; not abusive and threatening, but resilient and inspiring.

Anarchists—we make no prisoners!

A system that feeds equally on a person’s love as well as their hate is best starved.

When is the soup that suffers great dilution finally called water?

It is the fixed category that will always break.

We cannot heal the wounds of the world if we do not first feel the wounds of the world. The subaltern have a voice if you monologue with your empathy.

A changing of the guard does little, yet a change in what is being guarded is quite another matter. Later perhaps we can relax our guard, and then leave guarding altogether. Deep in to the future we can just be gardeners.

A hundred years ago, in the middle of “the great war”, few could have imagined that a hundred years from then, there would be a much vaster war against life, without many shots being fired or bombs dropped, but as a daily effort to grind down the vitality of the Ecosphere—a war of attrition without victors.

In a world where it is so easy to make deals with the devil, we must ask ourselves if we are already in hell.

With the electric chair the state could kill individuals by turning the power on; now with the electric grid the state could kill masses by turning the power off.

Objectivity is a particular flavor of subjectivity that belittles the subject, thus drawing a false contrast that makes objects seem “larger than life”.

Most of the wars throughout life’s history have been between different lifeforms; now we are in a totally different war which is between life and anti-life. Life forms and life deforms—deformation through information. It would be too gracious and disingenuous to call these forces aligned against life, for truly they are just vacuously maligned.

Stand up for what is right, especially if the low ceiling must be broken.

Better to have the enemy’s blood on our hands after their murder, than to have your friend’s blood on your hand after a handshake with the enemy. Best to have your enemy’s blood on his own hands, when he removes himself from the unjust position as an enemy to life.

Your best doctor shares the same names as you—so too should your greatest lover, and if such is the case, the need for a doctor is removed.

Mediating middle men only have their proboscis to insert. Atrophy their medium by atrophying our own.

It is most often the corrupt who scramble for uniforms with “good” translated on them. Only in such modern and delocalized times could reputations not precede such peoples, where anonymity is the most commonly utilized tool that all who would do evil use to evade discernment.

The fear of not living ought to take precedence over—and not be equated with—the fear of death.

In a world where there are so many instances of the complete opposite being true, one must wonder if that world itself is tending towards complete falsity.

There is nothing wrong with a destructive critique so long as it is sung from a constructive and non-suicidal grounding.

The most embarrassing thing is that we feel great embarrassment over so many things that are perfectly natural.

What separates police from the rest of the population is that no police officer can ever be labeled an “innocent” victim.

To nurture nature out of children as modernity does, is a rejection of all that is innately valuable in both processes.

The original taboo is just that. Its generality is the rug buried deep below its debris pile of detailing specifics.

Getting off our asses is an assertion that we must take literally at first, but that we must also make figurative as we develop mobility of body and mind, if we are to truly get off our asses.


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State Forests: what the state hasn’t grasped

State owned parks act as impenetrable rocks accidentally swallowed that cannot be digested by the predator’s intestines. The deep state isn’t so deep yet that it has been able to make full exploitative use of the entrenched non-hierarchical ecosystems of these hundreds of thousands up to millions of forested acres. The state dubs it protected land, but it has not silenced the dynamism of the land’s own making that protects and defends it from the state (for now, at least); anti-statists and anarchists alike would benefit to ruminate on this point to inform their future strategies and tactics. There are occasional forays by the state to fix or assess something in the typically mountainous regions covered in green on the surface and on the maps, but mostly, the extractive profiteering is minimal. The state’s conquest is limited to the besieged borders where the state seasonally charges fees to access these wildernesses, with permits to stay more than a single daytime day at a time; they would use tick fear as a patrol mechanism, a state ploy couched under “safety”, attempting to dissuade human access to these lands that it itself could not tame.

Contrary to the de jure legal understanding, I would argue that the borders of the protected lands are international, and the fees are a customs charge, for the land is merely enclaved by a state but not yet enslaved by it. The land is saved from state penetration perhaps by it’s lofty position (often mountainous), seated as Switzerland is in high and oblique inaccessibility. Though there are few to zero humans who permanently dwell in these places, there is plenty that we—who would choose to not be conquered by a state—can learn from such unconquered places. The protective geography that is an island in a sea of the state, is akin to ancient Greece’s geographical context, except that the unpopulated geography was the sea that made protected “islands” out of the separate city states.

While most other forests, grasslands, marshlands have been dragged in to the state’s nexus by roads and settlement—with taxation and monitoring following closely behind—these topographically asymmetrical lands have been overlooked by the state precisely because they were not, and still are not, easy to master. It is these places that frequently offer an overlook, a breath giving scenic vista, that belittles to a mere lower corner of the panorama the bedraggled exclave country that only legally includes this natural beauty. Even imperialistic statesmen such as Jefferson and Ted Roosevelt had either a steward’s empathy wrenched from them, or an awe and terror for something more dominant than they, when dealing with these vast dimensionalized lands and deciding to throw their weight behind their protection; a side question is whether they were acting as moral politicians or political moralists. Other politicians might have decided to do the same in their stead, and had they not, fierce nature might have beat them and their cadre of industry back anyways.

One of the most banal and taboo truths about human existence ties in here—a truth that puts us in our place—and it is namely that land grows people. This uncomfortable idea is ameliorated by other ideas of a plenitude of land (manifest destiny) so that raping and scorching vast stretches is okay and only localized: one cannot marry a land because there are too many parcels available, though one can have a piece of land every night and throw it away by the morning, for there are such reserves in wait. Unfortunately, such overcompensating has lead to pillaging that does not stop until it reaches little unimpressive islands of land where multiple series of squares meet—those awkward sub-acreages that modern land development is unable to systematically make more copies on. A “compromise” with nature is made with places like these alongside interstate highways where “lucky” trees remain that had the good fortune of seeding in what would be future front row seats to a twenty-four hour highway. A development corporation’s convenient public relation’s “green space” ruse disguised as a compromise with nature, is really a defeat of their instrumental rationality; but it is in these cases almost a Pyrrhic victory, for corporate and state use of rationality is so efficient in their destruction of nature.

As development corporations have trouble with little parcels of land that don’t fit in to their cookie cutter model, the state and its corporate parasites have trouble with untamed large pieces of land that would break their cookie cutters were they to try and apply them on the terrain. Life for now is very lush in these ultimate refuges of protected mountainous lands, lands which stand in a stark contrast to what industry really is all about—intentionally taming life and inadvertently (but inevitably) killing it. As of now only these strongest lands have not succumbed (been subalterrained) to the disease of state driven civilization; the state’s claws are not those of a mountain lion, they cannot easily grab such real things without great difficulty and harsh resistance, and so they only etch dividing lines in to flat plains coastal and continental that are two dimensionally digitizable. The state’s inability to grasp these places is precisely why they want to put their title on them. The state wants to contain them in language because such places actually show the limits of state power, and expose its vulnerabilities; like with so many other things, western powers linguistically co-opt what they physically cannot. Sometimes the protecting of these lands is presented as a bargaining chip in exchange for receiving a green-light to industrialize a different piece of wilderness, so in this sense they are used for political expedience. Beyond this the state’s utility of such lands is minimal, and that is a testament to what power life has in such lands, and perhaps to its future benefit if it has not deposited reserves in to fossilized coal. For us with the ability to migrate ahead of the coming metropolitan crises, skyscraping lands of tenacity with such a view would be quite a wise place to rendezvous.

Hating On “The Police”

Hating On “The Police”—not officers suck and such—The Correct Politically Incorrect Way

Police Are Role Models To Other Fascist GangsIf you have strong feelings against the police and want to voice them, but you don’t want to polarize people related to police officers, you can utilize the following tactic:

During your tirade, make sure always to say “the police” and only that, not even any variations such as “police officers”. The reason for this is that police officers are frequently only 1 or 2 degrees disconnected from any social relations we have. They are a colleague’s husband, the father of a friend, the sister of an acquaintance, and so when you start bashing on the police, you can expect them to utter the words “fuck you, my [load the blank] is a police officer!”. If you had said “the police”, you just have to simply reassert that you are referring to the coercive institution, and you don’t have to get caught in a debate where your views are nuanced and watch the wind leave your sails. Remember, if you’ve gotten to the point where you are voicing these ideas, you are too busy fighting something too large to get caught in the many traps of awkwardness that language ensnares us in; be politicking in your own political incorrectness!

It is possible you want to get into the personal acts of horror undertaken by individual police officers: the husband, the father, the sister may very well deserve individualized attention because they especially suck at being human. However, emphasizing the role that the police as an institution had in allowing them to amplify their horribleness is much more important. That they compromised by joining such a narrow-minded institution of control speaks volumes to their individual character; that they can stomach being the biggest tools—being coerced into a mentality of kill or be killed—shows how little to do with humans and our attractions to freedom these people actually have. Further, too much focus on the behavior of individual police officers acts to excuse the larger oppressive institution when the horrible violence does surface. A pattern of bad apples can be blamed on the rotten tree. (apologies to trees everywhere for analogizing you with the police institution!)

Most of the violence undertaken by police is normalized and so it is not dubbed violence. The police exist to channel and dam up the efforts that might threaten the governmental system that employs them, and such damming, such deterrence is in itself violence. It is limiting the human inclination to mobility and wandering as we previously used to. It is violence akin to the road that destroys subtle and complex connections among ecosystems; the asphalt that tramples life underneath itself, while also forever altering (and not for the better) life on all sides of it. Many police officers join the force knowing that in so doing they are being anointed to the status of the public’s official bullies. The exceptions are those dreamers who want to actually help save lives and make the horrible mistake of joining the police in order to do this. One doesn’t have to wear a badge and hide behind weaponry to save lives and do the right thing. More to the point, sometimes doing the wrong thing precludes one from being available to do the right thing.

Government Suffers From A Staff Infection And The Police Are The Most Virulent Strain

To reiterate/elaborate: focus on the police instead of individuals unless you’d like to get into arguments with hecklers you manufactured into your argument. I think anger would get the best of me in such situations, and so when speaking (orally, at least, if not in this post) about police I will make sure to follow my 2015 advice.

Unused Ammo

– Just by putting on the uniform (gun included), putting on the car, being a body in such a skin, dark glasses in lieu of eyes, stirring anxiety in the masses and constantly committing acts to maintain societies negative labels, the police are not for us; they are a fraternity that warps the fabric of our daily life and effectively makes being human seem like a crime waiting to happen.

– Any future mini-articulations I have that speak to the harms the police cause in our world will be logged here.

– A previous post about police can be read here: Cops, Our Knights In Shining SUVs.

Cascadian Independence: A Change Before the Crisis

I often live under a rock (a fertile place, see below*) with the Cascadian Independence Movement just entering my narrow radar screen. After some investigation, however, it seems the movement itself also dances between rock-roofed dormancy and active assertions of the human striving for freedom from unnecessary shackles. There are many humans in social media circles that give off revolutionary vibes, standing atop the rock as one would a soapbox, exuding that something big politically will be happening very soon; who am I to cast doubt and preclude such a future? I have a taste for their revolutionary energy, and all I wanted to do when I first realized this was a real movement within the American continent I occupy—where the political imagination is generally as fluid as a desert—was go hug the nearest conifer and have someone take a me and tree selfie, and photoshop that onto a Cascadia flag with the words “Solidarity With Cascadia”.

Solidarity With Cascadia

The Cascadian nation’s coming into existence is important beyond just those that it will include (I wouldn’t say “contain”, as that has a statist connotation and I think Cascadia is far more a free and open nation), as it could serve as both a model for emerging nations and a further disintegration of the overgrown, malnourished, obese post-imperialist empire euphemistically labeled “the United States”. Cascadia is another front against the sprawling Empire to help take it further off balance; another stronghold of a mountainous island to not be drowned out when the real threat to it’s residents—the one to its east (District of Columbia) not west—topples from within. Cascadia has a deep enough of a foundation in place that it cannot be faulted as being a mere reaction to the politically and economically decadent times. Cascadia is full of insight and foresight that put it in a different league of nations than most that have arisen in the last century; it will prove to be a one word poem, prompting other nations to arise before such a possibility is precluded. Cascadia is yearned for by the people within, not a convenience contrived by people without!


A blogpost on Cascadia could go into many different tributaries that wouldn’t lend itself to the linear writing style here employed, so I will return to the rock metaphor, as a matter of course. On this theme, the vanguard revolutionaries need to be prepared psychologically and not lose their far-sighted visions, when another winter comes and they need to migrate back underground to warm and nourishing places. Their thrusting efforts to birth a new sovereign nation may likely be averaged-out and watered-down by their spermicidal, prudish, conservative “let’s stay put” neighbors that don’t have the same lust for an open-ended Cascadian future. However, I have a sense that the number of winters between their hopes of an unoccupied Cascadia nation and its reality, are quickly thinning. The most important reason for this is the revolutionary zeitgeist: Cascadian pride is a phenomenon that might be comparable to a vine spiraling upwards, clinging to a cliff-side at times, but only to return and reveal more of its glorious self higher up, daringly exposed and awe-inspiring. The vine has deep roots that I cannot appreciate, that are larger and more fertile than Ecotopia even understood, though that book was immensely important in its current growth strides. For me, I am gazing up at the vine, rooting it on. I see more hope for it still because what might be the most important inhibition barring the Cascadian nation from bearing its first fruit (a fir cone baby) is a negative that may soon be negated. The Cascadia nation’s biggest natural predator averred to above—the United States, along with its global reserve currency status—is going to be having organ failures of all sorts that will put it in a hospital bed before too long. In such a state the federal government might become too impaired to grasp at a fledgling nation. One must wonder if FEMA’s imminent deployment in response to the fault line is a pretext for federal presence, “reminding” residents that they are not free to self-determine. In any event, at some point this governmental force will release the Cascadian land from its grip, enabling the people to put on full display the beautiful ideas informing their struggles.

Change before the Crisis: “Get ahead of the times with silver ParaDimes”. One triage tactic the region can take up (if it hasn’t already begun to do so) to further ensure it isn’t as injured by any American economic collapse, would be the encouragement of converting dollars into physical silver and bartering with it for trade. This transition to a silver backed currency will allow a more seamless transition when the need arises, as well as becoming another social glue between the Cascadian people. Even more to the revolutionary side of things would be a continued push for an organic economic method of sharing and mutual aid, which I know already exists locally in many different places over Cascadia where people are even further ahead of their times.

*I admittedly couldn’t figure a way to put in this further elaboration without further confusing the text, so I thought I would say it here. With regards to living in proximity of a rock: there is much bio-activity that happens during all seasons, as permaculture profounder Sepp Holzer has displayed in his “symphonies of nature”. A man ahead of his time is surely not unheard of in a place that is ahead of it’s time, and those familiar with his love of rocks would know that they regulate temperature, increase moisture to dry areas, clean and mineralize water, among many other talents known and unknown such as creating an appropriate pH for a fir tree sapling to grow strong and tall!


Anti-State And Anti-Statin: MIT Is Home To Both Non-expertise Experts In Chomsky And Seneff

The concept of a drug that would disable the liver’s ability to produce cholesterol sounds like a terrible idea to me… cholestrol is to animals as chlorphyll is to plants… we die without it. It’s in every membrane of every cell, and without it the cell basically falls apart. – Stephanie Seneff

Seneff and Chomsky

Representative democracy would be criticized by an anarchist… because there is a monopoly of power centralized in the state… anarchists of this tradition have always held that democratic control of one’s productive life is at the core of any serious human liberation. – Noam Chomsky

    There’s just something about MIT’s linguistics department breeding radically different thinkers who go well outside of the disciplinary boundaries to attack dominant trends in the modern world. For Noam Chomsky, it’s attacking the policies of the United States, and for Stephanie Seneff, it’s attacking statin drugs and anti-life agricultural chemicals such as glyphosate (round-up). Neither of these radicals just likes to spout opinions, they feel much more comfortable speaking from strong positions of research. Chomsky has in the tens of thousands of pages of historically documented wrong-doings of nation states, especially those committed by the United States; Seneff has partaken in more than a dozen of peer-reviewed scientific biological studies/experiments documenting the essential biological roles of sulfur and cholesterol, and their chief antagonists which are statin drugs and glyphosate.

Neither of them started in their current fields where they are revolutionizing our views of human’s place in the world, and neither of them, both in their golden years—Chomsky is 86 and Seneff in her late sixties—are showing any signs of giving up and retiring. If you are familiar with neither, or one but not the other, I encourage you to look into their ground-breaking work and your worldview will grow tremendously. I am much more of a listener than a reader, and fortunately both of them have many talks/podcasts documented which clearly explain their positions and worldviews.

From a Lowly Culture to Permaculture

Where can a writing on something political begin? Surely not focused on great political leaders with the delusions that a few powerful people wield all the power and the story unfolds as their whims dart across the landscape where the lesser insects dwell. Nay, not the great man theory of history, for great men whom also wield power is dubious, and would anyways be next to impossible to identify, and fruitless nonetheless. Then what? The class theory of peoples who claim different degrees of property, from vast holdings to mere mass produced trinkets? Nay to this too—though such a neo-marxist undertaking would be venerable/applaudable—for it is too simple for our age, or perhaps rather, our age has become too simple for it.

We could say we are all too variable and on too many shifting paradigms, that a sociologist looking to analyze us would never be ADHD enough to keep up with our shifting technological society and the frequent off-shootings of cliques and resonances that come and go with an upgrade to a smart phone. This grasping for a post-modern explanation of the current political fogginess is a lazyman’s false idol. Why not just let Jesus bear the burden while we relax our guard and assume that events are part of some larger play of force, too big for any of us to make an impact upon because we are all just too different? “Our differences are different, and even our similarities are different.”

It is hard not to fall into this trap, and the only clear way I see is TO NOT ANALYZE THE POLITICAL PRESENT. Too much analysis and practices akin to analysis have weakened and particularized society from a once rich tapestry with harmonious strings, to a war fraught rag where there are neither allies nor foes, just confusion and non-microbial driven decay.

Perhaps I have already wasted too much text on the present, and in this paragraph I will here say that it is “the future”, but more accurately “a” future, that I would like to talk about. There is currently no good beginning from which to launch a political program. An end must be sought, and from this end we can let roots grow down into the present, vines from which we can swing ourselves out of this ObaMadofFacebooKremlin muck that isn’t worth a newspaper nor a future history tome to offer explanation.

So where to find this future? The best page to look at in such a worthy history book is the first. The first page, where we begin our tinkerings in agriculture and left behind our nomadic understudy of nature. It is back to these days we must ponder, when we stopped being a part of nature, and cut down a tree and made paper to write about nature. So followed our thinking that nature was no longer fit to seed itself, we were obviously chosen to do this (and questions of who chose us to do these tasks soon followed). Nature’s great child would now do the seeding, masturbating its various species, and picking mating partners for superficial qualities that blind vision and deaf hearing spoke to. Nature became the ignored parent, estranged at first, but the road has been long and darkening, the asphalt layers thicker and thicker. A helicopter ride reveals the varicose veins—the plaque, as ecosystems are actively marred. In this “post” industrial age it is to the point of nature being daily abused and systematical tortured and disfigured by a warped and deeply disturbed child. No child in the history of the earth has been so disturbed as the human species.

But lo! For I have strayed from a future and from a promise I made, something we all too often have done and will continue to do for it has become our second nature. We must accept this part of us for the present, and guard against its happening too frequently, as we seek to build a future, a future which includes us. Our agricultural beginnings were fraught with perils, most deeply that we put ourselves as master and nature as slave. Let’s this time change both the roles and the whole relationship, and put ourselves as student and nature as teacher. I am speaking of the permaculture future, where we as humans have small but important jobs as laying macro-landscapes to create microclimates where we let nature fruit to its fullest. We leave behind the follies of delving into depths smaller than our naked eyes can see, for these have brought great misery, as too have the extremes of macro-organization that went beyond our own bodies’ abilities to shape materials and required a machine to implement. The best way to dig ourselves out of our current problems—cultural, mental, environmental, and you fill in the rest—is to dig in to the world of permaculture that relieves us from the weight of the world we put on ourselves to manage.