J is for Jousting (my thoughts inexactly)

Systemic reform is a handshake with those whose hands are covered in blood.

The lack of a public searching for an ulterior motive is precisely the ulterior motive that public relation’s branches most hope to accomplish.

Only among children—our sane counterparts—does it make any sense to use the saying “one step at a time”. It is otherwise absurdly misplaced, for we have brought upon ourselves the absurd world we do 30 miles at a time.

Good people coerced to do bad things: also known as capitalism.

That we think we are privy to the chess game of the elites is itself part of their larger chess game. We are not the interior decorators of their throne rooms but they the decorators of ours. They decorate our minds with fanciful ideologies of control, and laugh at the comedy.

Contemporary class warfare is not so much about the rich stealing from the poor, but the rich engineering a poor that freely gives to the rich their land, their labor, their possessions, and pretty soon their children. Government plays the role of a pump medium to keep this exchange generally moving in one direction, and banks seem to be the benefactors.

We all need a god to believe in, and we all need to believe in ourselves. Why not combine the two?

At what point do we call the diluted soup water?

Circumstances don’t have to get to the point of being lifeless, to realize the grave danger of less life.

The inclination to put off fighting the battle, is the one of the most prominent aspects of the battle that we have to fight.

An individuated life is only a step away from death; fortunately for the individual they have some say in the direction of their next step.

We must begin to work frantically if we are to regenerate all the vastness that we have lost, to give our children a chance in this hell.

An unsuccessful genocide gets blamed on the disease responsible—people; a successful genocide gets blamed on a different disease, smallpox.

People who believe everything they are told are a haven for those who profit on lies.

The IOU that outlives you, outlives itself. The untimely mortality associated with the IOU is what makes it an immortal weapon of the powerful who use it as an immediate denial of resources. We masses similarly have the ability to deny others access to resources, but for we don’t see ourselves as masses but as individuals.

To pardon the world’s sin is not to take it away, but to give it millennia to flourish unchallenged.

The nature of our crimes tells of how far from nature we have strayed.

Representative democracy is the human version of a dog run—we use up all of our own energy in a space narrowed by those who we let be our masters. While the oligarchs promise they’ll take care of our shit, they leave it there long enough for us to run through it and get infected by it.

The livestock industry milks, bleeds, and slaughters all the other herd animals—why should it be any different for we humans?

Related Previous Aphorism Posts:

https://subversesjournal.wordpress.com/2016/12/03/v-is-for-vanquishing-my-thoughts-inexactly/

https://subversesjournal.wordpress.com/2016/11/03/my-thoughts-inexactly-w-is-for-willing-otra-vez/

https://subversesjournal.wordpress.com/2016/10/16/my-thoughts-inexactly-w-is-for-willing/

https://subversesjournal.wordpress.com/2016/09/20/my-thoughts-inexactly-e-is-for-escalating/

https://subversesjournal.wordpress.com/2016/08/07/my-thoughts-inexactly-g-is-for-gathering/

https://subversesjournal.wordpress.com/2016/07/20/my-thoughts-inexactly-z-is-for-zeroing/

https://subversesjournal.wordpress.com/2016/07/04/my-thoughts-inexactly-l-is-for-lamenting/

https://subversesjournal.wordpress.com/2016/07/02/lternate-lphabet-lliteration-training-regimen/

https://subversesjournal.wordpress.com/2016/06/28/my-thoughts-inexactly/

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An other History Of Flag Day: A Subaltern Fable

In the beginning, there was peace in the land, peace with nature, among all the animals…

Then, conquerors obsessed with order and cleanliness arrived, and they decided to white wash the land and marginalize nature; to them, peace was represented by white, and not intrinsic in nature, so when nature faded they sighed out of relief; however, for the animals left alive, white became a thing of horror, a bringer of death and absence, and it became the adjective for the conquering men…

The natives made their best efforts to remain hidden, keeping their culture safe and tucked away, and so they hid under the dark blue of a moonlit night…

The conquerors, insatiable, didn’t want the natives having this separate freedom, so they shot 13 bullets at the nighttime haven, tearing 13 holes that tattered the natives culture and ability to control their own destiny; the natives, no longer having anywhere to hide, were forced to come out into the white territory…

The white’s believed that order should be established and that peace cannot be allowed to freely exist—it needed to be encoded in laws and regulation; thus entered bureaucratic management, and the red tape cordoned off different areas; the natives now in white territory couldn’t freely mingle on their own terms, whether with the conquerors or just among themselves…

They put the red tape at the borders, too, so it would be difficult both to enter and to leave the country…

The natives, feeling their language and culture being crushed, decided to move again under the veil of the moonlit night, but in their flight were spotted and continuously shot after, chased to the edges of the land…

The only exit left was to leave the world entirely, and a stiff wind blew them off the land…

The conquerors forget that beneath all their artifices, is still a land and an attainable peace with nature, despite the scars inflicted; lower your flag to day, because the real purpose of flags is not to drape over bodies, but to rid the murders of guilt, and to justify their slaughter of an Other…