I've been quiet lately here at Epiphany Now. I'm suffering from a bit of reality induced writers block. I'm tired of doom, and the amount of doominess that's just outside waiting for me, and you, and anybody else not anesthetized on fukitol, corn beer, and big idiot clowns smashing into each other for the purposes of moving a pigskin around on fake grass. Even the fuckin' grass is fake in that wallerd out carcass of a long past stinkin' dead horse that is American football. Even the name is arrogant since football (as in the game where you kick a ball around with your feet) is probably one of the oldest sports. A game that's played and recognized globally as football, but here we call it soccer and reserve the name "football" for a sport that has very little to do with kicking a ball. It seems we can't even be honest about our sports, and that we need to be exceptionally different along with how we measure things. The rest of the world uses metrics, what with it's easy to understand increments of 10.
What of the metrics of the future? Agreeing on how we measure that, be it with metrics or standard, they both spell the collapse of our complex civilization. Not a collapse fit for television or the big screen, but one fit for a detention room with a group of misfits nobody wants to be around (that's the rag tag group of genius boomers at the Diner... well actually the Diner is a good cross section of different ages). Each year will be shittier for more people, and eventually you may be amongst their roles. Present and not accounted for as an economic non-person who's been pushed to the margins of a collapsing society without so much as a reach around for the years spent servicing that big tube up your anus, stuck there by the machine, and always sucking memories out to feed the bullshit black hole that the American Hologram projects into every mush for brained i gadget wielding cyborg. Where reality is presented on smaller and smaller screens that we all hunch at, growing crooked, and gnarly in our weaknesses with obsolete flesh. Flesh composed mostly of man made chemicals...flesh maintained on genetic modification and powered by ancient fossil sunlight, as John Michael Greer recently dubbed petroleum.
Why should those internet i gadget cyborgs look away from their ithingies? Why should they wake up and notice that memory hole tube up their ass that's powering the Matrix? We can't all be Neo, and it seems whenever he tries to make an appearance he's whisked away to a kookville for profit, corporatocracy owned private prison (it's interesting to me that Google Blogger doesn't recognize "corporatocracy" as a word). Those state of the art prisons they've been steady building need prisoners to remain a profitable business. You can't make money on building and running prisons with no prisoners now can you? It helps that the laws have been rewritten so that we can be deleted in some forgotten military prison that's tucked away where nobody will ever notice. They might as well just send us to the land of away, with the rest of the trash in our consumer fueled "landfills," or trash dumps as I prefer to call them. At least that's an honest description. The place where our inability to think past the newest flavor Dorito goes to rot, along with any chance at a future that doesn't resemble something you'd likely find somewhere in a smog choked Chinese slum, or an Indian one for that matter. There's nowhere left to go from here except straight into what's left when the fog from a perpetual progress myth dissipates, and there's no longer anything that agrees with the stories you tell yourself...that you verify with that imagidgit and all of those stupid scripted stories that pass through that memory tube up your ass. It's always convincing you that what you need is to work more hours for less pay and no benefits so that you can afford to support those slums that steady chuck out shit for you to buy. Shit that breaks just as soon as you bring it home. Your home being just a place for the thing to pass through on it's way to the trash dump.
How empty can we imagine ourselves to be? Can we get much more empty than a paradigm that mines the wealth of nature for the production of trash? A system that subjugates everybody to it's incessant worship of profit as the only sacred. The game is rigged. You gotta have money to play. Now you gotta comply to the new wealthcare mandates or be fined, leading to imprisoned...eventually. Just being alive requires that you pay, and only money will be accepted as payment. Well, that's not true, there is also the option of an all expense paid incarceration in one of those for profit prison businesses where you can make a few cents a day to pay for the cigarettes that will hopefully kill you before your prison gay cell mate decides to push your shit in. It doesn't sound that bad does it. It sounds like you could almost learn to enjoy having your shit pushed in doesn't it?
The trouble is not in imagining a world where money is not required. It's actually quite easy to imagine. It's just that you'd be imagining a lie. Money's not going to go away, and nor are the men whom control it's completely hallucinated nature. In fact, those men control trigger happy goons in police suits. And those police suits revel in their high tech deadly weaponry, and in the sound that their boots make when they stomp on your freedom to be a slave in this Orwellian New World Bravely that's become the reality surrounding the imagidgits we're all plugged into. Well, we're not all plugged into them, at least not unconsciously. There are those of us whom are trying to come up with solutions to all of this totalitarian tyranny over nature and the mass human mind. We're out here hiding in plain site where we are free to think about the world outside of the Matrix. Hiding in glitches hoping for a miracle and trying not to fall prey to near term human extinction nihilism (or one of those shit pushin' in prisons).
The way forward is to no longer care about the Matrix and the goons whom worship at it's suffering feet. We need to collectively turn our backs on the system. I'm trying my hardest to do that, but there aren't many options and it requires a bit of luck to pull off. We don't have the money to build a future before the Matrix grinds to a halt (one stair step at a time all the way to collapse). The answer is as simple as access to land so that we, the unplugged and empowered forward thinkers, can begin setting up the natural systems that will sustain us. It's easy to do! Real easy on the ground, and especially while we still have tractors and chainsaws. Restoration Agriculture, permaculture, ecological design, and perennial agriculture are all ideas that seek to implement the answers to all of the problems we face as a species.
Money stands in our way, true, but more importantly we stand in our way. We need to get out of our way, and that's exactly what us Heliopaths are trying to do at the SUN Foundation. We are trying to believe that as bad as the endless procession of problems we face on this planet are, that they are not insurmountable. There has to be a way through the endless storm that industrial civilization is proving to be. We've turned ourselves into slaves and are doing our level best to destroy life supporting biomes on this planet. As a Heliopathic Rasta Man Druid it's my job to figure this shit out (and it's okay to laugh at my dumb ass self applied moniker). As a father and husband it's my responsibility. Hell, as a sentient being with access to abstract thinking, it's my responsibility to figure this out. This is a call for help. If you are reading this, and you have not been to the SUNFoundation website, please do drop by for a visit. Have a look around and ask questions. Join the dialogue about how we're going to fix this mess and contribute to the solutions we're so desperately in need of.
I believe that the solutions to the demise of this industrial civilization will have to be small, grass roots, decentralized, and connected to the natural world, just like SUN Foundation is. The solutions will not happen if you don't try to pull them out, if we don't try. You, I, the other guy...us all. The goons are coming for us all sooner or later. Their masters already have all of your rights locked safely away at the bottom of the Land of Away with all of our mindless consumption, and that's all right next to the shit storm future we've left for our children. I refuse to be a part of a wealth pump that grinds up whole mountains, and oceans, and peoples just to spooge it all back out onto itself and everybody else in an endless act of hedonistic narcissistic greed. We fuel this machine with our apathy. We give our power away for the right to consume imagidgits and America's Got Talent. Let us take the land back, and so take our power back. Help us figure out how to do that. Become a Heliopath and help the SUN Foundation come up with the solutions to our problems. We're interested in solutions at SUN. Solutions that will weather the building storm. Got any ideas you want to share?
The first person to guess what a "rock angle" is will get a bottle of SUN sauce...my fermented hot pepper sauce mailed to wherever they want it free of charge (and there are two possible answers I'll accept). Here's a hint...it's a word that my son Ayden Zen McCarty thought up. Guess I should prepare to give away two bottles.
Here are some pictures of one of the ongoing SUN Foundation projects. It's a monumental hugelspiral. The hugelspiral will be completed once we wheelbarrow 12 yards of topsoil on top of the 2 yards of mushroom compost, on top of about 6 yards of leaves, on top of white pine, poplar, oak, and maple sourced from the land.