In my previous blog entry, I touched upon the crisis of humanity at its evolution to adopt science as investigator and not the poet (author, dramatist, etc...). This evolution of specialization as the best option which so many have taken as a good as they want to be good at something too. This commodification of knowledge has led to so much disarray. God is dead! Sure. Might makes right. At first, yes. But better living through chemistry. Or, the world is your oyster. Damn it! All these expressions have no wisdom. What happened to the bud of the flower? What comes of society at inspection of these notions? Science is a divorce from intuition as it fails to achieve analogs from human experience of the transcendent to explain the chaos. I have yet to read a scientific theory which supports the wisdom traditions. Evolution is based in competition. Abel would have never forgiven Cain. Commercialism and the market is so snakey and we bite that apple everyday, with every dollar we spend. Do you see? Buddha would never permit such indulgence in ego or social standing as we each have. I am sad. A tear for the wise men.
What is this war and the failure of each at it. We are slain soldiers. In every hospital in the world is a victim of consumerism. Yet the author's only vault is to sell his product. The desire to disseminate the good message is grand and noble, yet how many successful authors are spreading a message which brings the reader to a greater or safer or more aware level? Not many. I am sad again.
When we can share in the sense of justice as children of the world, we can regain the fear of punishment. Children have an apt sense of just consequence. Their tears are the work of the unjust. They cry for you to tell them a story which will recreate an image of justice so they may feel like that place they came from is not a lie, a delusion, an abyss, but the origin of all things. Call it will, life force, anything. But don't call it reality. Reality has never been consentual. Maybe that is where the poet failed? Maybe the poets task is to heighten, interpret and elevate. Like an escalator to the great luxury in the sky, the poet ought to seek beauty's heights. Why not write about the rich and their fabulosity? Is that a word? No. It is though. :-)
What is this war and the failure of each at it. We are slain soldiers. In every hospital in the world is a victim of consumerism. Yet the author's only vault is to sell his product. The desire to disseminate the good message is grand and noble, yet how many successful authors are spreading a message which brings the reader to a greater or safer or more aware level? Not many. I am sad again.
When we can share in the sense of justice as children of the world, we can regain the fear of punishment. Children have an apt sense of just consequence. Their tears are the work of the unjust. They cry for you to tell them a story which will recreate an image of justice so they may feel like that place they came from is not a lie, a delusion, an abyss, but the origin of all things. Call it will, life force, anything. But don't call it reality. Reality has never been consentual. Maybe that is where the poet failed? Maybe the poets task is to heighten, interpret and elevate. Like an escalator to the great luxury in the sky, the poet ought to seek beauty's heights. Why not write about the rich and their fabulosity? Is that a word? No. It is though. :-)
