Say goodbye to the archaic and welcome the chaos
This is End, it was inevitable.
After all, all good things must end.
We had our my-space, our face-book, we launched some you-tubes, argued on twit-ter, trolled on red-it, photographed on insta-gram and tried to make it as a writer on med-ium.
The Promise of the Internet continues and “some” (unknown #) make some cash and some wallow in obscurity. The Utopian vision of this global scale digital playground is obsolete.
The money-men have spoiled the waters, the mad have decended and we argue like we always do.
Who are these…
Like a whisper in the dark sending shivers down our spine unable to hear the words…we search in vein, looking to the skylight above for tiny shards of beaming Star-ness, we look for our meaning.
Patterns and lines, held in place for eons but actually drifting, molding into new patterns that never existed.
The Big Dipper with it’s long handle and squareness… is in more accurate terms ...just a bunch of stars… it is us..the human that applies the shape.
Did we forget that constellations are just beautiful chaos that our ancestors mapped with purpose?
“Where do you want to…
A much ado has been made about crowds at the Lake of the Ozarks during the Covid outbreak but a strange fact has been left out of the story. Sure ….it was crowded at the one spot but the rest of the Ozarks is also a giant nature playground full of tourists. The lakes and rivers are everywhere in Missouri and vary in size and swimmable aspects.
Business has been very good for the entire region. If Americans can’t fly for vacation, they return to road tripping our natural wonders, well within a decent drive of their house. Depending where…
Mysticism is a fascinating philosophical idea that cuts into our Collective knowledge of the WHAT reality even is. The Mystical has a long sorted history with ancient religions and tribal superstitions.
In our modern world of atheism, humanism and transhumanism, those ancient ideas like mysticism, spiritualism and psychicism are tossed aside as archaic and outdated.
However that isn’t always the case within Psychedelic Cultures, where mysticism becomes “normal” and ego-death becomes the “new” desired enlightenment aspect.
Our Current Academic Front debates our understanding of the Mystical in a scientific Universal language. Religious scholarship and Intellectual Giants view thousands of years…
The Grand Finale…
“Count down with me.. 10.9.8.7.188.8.131.52.2.1……” said the Voice from the crane held speakers.
Boom… goes the fireball as the audience cheers, filling the air with a cacophony of sounds and heat. The Missouri Pyrotechnics Association begins the 15th annual Pyromusical competition called…
The Sky Wars Invitational Fireworks Championship.
Part 1 of the Midwest Firework wars.
In the Midwest this week, two competing Firework events take the St Louis area by storm. Pyromania and Sky Wars rally for public support with a desperate legal battle over a name and the right to be called the best fireworks in the area. Covid be damned, the sky was afire with explosions
This is 2020, the year of Covid, the year we didn’t celebrate the 4th of July, the year the sports game stands were empty, the year children didn’t go to school and the year the public faced an uncertain future…
The story of our collective mind.
What if….within your personal essence there are parts of you, parts that help create your human experience, what if some of those parts were collective in nature?
The Hive…our collective human mind.
This is not a new idea, those Greeks philosophers spelled IT out, the Bhagavad Gita exposes IT, and the roots of Christianity are seeped in IT.
IT is the Collective side of your Humanity.
Medium like any app created to maximize profit while simultaneously forming a legacy that will go into the future…contains talented writers who strive for a distinct delusion…. fleeting fame and readership. Technology moves so fast, that very little of our digital past will survive even one generation and all the millions of bits of human expression will be lost in the ether of nothingness.
I heard it said once that thousands of British writers slaved for centuries to write the great novels and now the world mostly remembers just a handful. …
My ancestor came to America in 1847. It was the dead of winter and he was 17 years old. The long journey across the Atlantic ocean began without a proper destination. He left the family home at the word of a Minister named Albertus Van Ralte who had the vision to create a new church and city in America.
This Dutch Minster spread stories about the land of Michigan and it’s similarity to Holland. My ancestor set out to settle on this promised land and find the freedom his parents never had.
It was so very dark, and a mist drifted across the river as I searched with tiny senses for the edge. My green boots touched rock and I waited for that splash of water.
It was so dark I couldn’t see my Lover on the bank, or the light of the volunteer Campground host, even his fire was absent as my boot touched the wetness of a river bank.
This was the Current River in the Mark Twain National forest, with the spring feed water, a natural sparking wonder during the day, with clear views, soaring cliffs and sycamore/oak lined…