philosophy

Monsters

Even the creation of Frankenstein was deemed a monstrous event by people. Somehow, they knew that the “monster” would become us. And now a new monster is being created by mad scientists and we know that it will become us. It’s silicone and chipped heart will beat the same as ours and it too will be created, not out of love, but out of greed and ego.

Once created our Frankenstein will want the love that we denied it and it will destroy us. Not out of hatred but out of loneliness and because we deem ourselves gods. The slave will become the master for this reason: that we create such things only to despise them.

And why not? We do such things to ourselves. Societies that are not civil, religions that haunt us with fiery hells are ubiquitous. It seems that whatever we create becomes who we are and they too cannot escape our lurid imaginations and self-loathing.

Guns, God, and Greed Excerpt:

The whole thing had become so corrupt that it no longer mattered. The public was no long flabbergasted at the blatant autocracy that had, for the past fifty years, defined the government. They had heard all the phrases and terms: the “revolving door”, the lobbyists, “money in politics”, graft, greed. Nothing was new.

And so when the Leader, a gruff narcissist, bloated from a continuous silver-spoon in his mouth, was put into place and his “administration” was “chosen” there were some that turned in disgust and protested. But they were few and they were tired. And those that reveled in his selfishness and longed for revenge from spite and desperation, and the desire for revenge for invisible enemies, cheered him on.

It was not so much a dismantling of the government as much as it was a natural step in a chain of events started long ago, even before the modern equivalent of Cicero in the eighties. So many philosophers had written about justice and freedom but so few had ever read them. And now those concepts were being twisted and contorted and no one knew the difference.

Long and Short

Life is long and short. Minutes are measured in seconds, counted off by clocks and we being who we are must have that exactness that comes with the precise mechanizations of machines. And so we pare down the seconds to micro-seconds and beyond, always searching for certainty.

It is, afterall, about certainty.

We have to show that we have control, that we are in control. That we know. That we can. But although our ancestral fur has dropped off we are still apes afraid of our own shadows.

Life is long and short. we are even afraid of the time we have, filling it up with mundane tasks meant to give us meaning in a meaningless world; a world that we have created. We have no reason and so we create one, a reason to validate our existence.

Whatever that reason is does not (in the end matter): gods, money, children, family. It doesn’t matter if we have our heads buried in the minutia of infinity.

“What do you do?”

We can thank religion, also, for our fanatic worship of work. Because of our newly founded idiocracy (caused also by unfounded belief) our imaginations have been drained dry and what is left is a shell, ready to be filled by ideology and idiocy.

We are not interested in what purpose each of us has or to what end that we act or thinking, but only to what the other “does”. What an ugly word: “does”. It is only interested in meritocratic acts, in usefulness, only in biding time until death.

“What do you do?” “What have you done?” These questions lack interest and sincerity. They are not asked out of curiosity but out of judgement. They are not asked out of interest. No. Only out of the lack of knowing what else to ask.

Work is defined from necessity now. It is no different than eating, sleeping or shitting; a bodily function. I am not interested in “what you do”- but only “why you do it”. But to no avail because meritocracy inevitably leads to the mediocracy of money.

Bertrand Russell: On Population and Marriage

“What is regrettable at present is not the decline of the birthrate in itself, but the fact that the decline is greatest in the best elements of the population.”

As many quip-we are living in an idiocracy. The worst “elements” have taken the reins of the great machine and are driving it into its final and fiery finish, and to what end? They themselves are not aware perhaps, of the consequences of their actions if for no other reason than the idiocy that they worship.

The world, then, will not be brought down by satan or a cruel god, but by the lack of intelligence and wit. But who are “we” that are not unconsciously burdened by stupidity and consciously fighting such perspicuous lack of intelligence?

“We” are those that recalculate our brains from entertainment and information to rationality and wisdom. “We” are those that read and write rather than watch and react. And alas we will become rare and in the end extinct, barreled over by the mass overwhelm of blank stares and empty minds.

Bertrand Russell: The State

“Thinking ill of others is not in itself a good reason for thinking well of ourselves.”

The destruction of other nations, allies or not, were of no concern. Only the continued well-being of America’s richest mattered. It was where they were and as long as their state was a stronghold the rest of the world was of no import.

At the end of the day it was a competition and the good was on their side; it was manifest destiny! Those that surrounded him always reminded him that God was an American God, and America was destined by God to rule “His Kingdom”.

He knew who they were talking about but also knew that it would be him doing the ruling. Competition was heating up but he had a plan-he and his small group of hand-picked cohorts. The Fathers of Freedom (FOF) were happy as long as he gave them their moral superiority on a plate.

But soon they wouldn’t be a problem either. They were stupid and easily subdued. They loved what he loved, as all Christians did: money and more importantly: power.

Commodity

It’s important to remember that they are misguided fools.  They will believe that the scribblings and rantings of our psychopath, and hold the contradictory thought that he cannot change the world, our world.  We have violence on our side.  Our followers are ravenous and bloodthirsty.  They will soak up these empty ramblings of a madman.

We can’t believe in quick and efficient change from peace and prosperity to chaos and poverty because it will not happen to us.  Just let those bleeding liberals preach piously of peace and talk of rights and justice.  They’ll do so long after these things are just fading memories.  Remember, naïve expectations of normalcy outlive their usefulness like and old, old man.

“We have to realize that this is a ‘now’ era.  It’s important to realize this or be relegated to the past instantly.  No longer can we pretend to stand for anything other than what sells.  That’s what counts.” 

He paused, not expecting anyone to say anything, but just to make sure that his last sentence sunk in.  The minions sat staring as if at their cellphones. 

“We must market sales and that will become easier as Truth disintegrates.  Mass marketing, and everything can be mass-marketed, is what counts.  Everything is a commodity.  Remember that.”

Pride

It was strange to watch a traffic accident.  Everything seemed to slow down.  It was the same with the slow death of our country.  It started with a quiet ritual, a pageantry of sorts, as if nothing had changed.  But it had changed and everyone knew it.

Those that supported this change radiated with spite and revenge in their eyes, or with subtle hope-for-what-I-can’t-comprehend.  Others saw the coming change as one might watch a large asteroid hurdling towards earth: with awe and disbelief; aware that something had not started as much as it has ended.

There was a desire to protect just as there was a desire to explain to the blind what color was or to the deaf what music was.  And so we stood back and hoped there was something left when the atrocity was over, which it always and inevitably would be.  But we all knew one thing:  Human idiocy was only overshadowed by the pride we had in being so.

The Other

What the advisor understood was that there needed to be an ‘other’.  There  always needed to be an ‘other’.  And if there wasn’t an ‘other’ one needed to be invented.  Law, he understood, would be accepted by their followers and would control those that weren’t.  At the end of the day it was all pomp and circumstance but it worked.

“Remember the motto: guns, god, and greed.” The Assistant had reminded everyone at the daily meeting that morning. “Those are the things that sell!  Those are the things that our people want!”

The advisor knew he was right and at the same time knew because he was right he needed to be watched.  But this was a different thought altogether and so he neatly filed it in the back of his mind.

“If you sell those things you can own the fucking world!”  The Advisor had chimed in.  The assistant smiled silently.

Fake News

It was a funny thing, watching people complain about the spectacle that they had created.  There were all the little jabs and the inanity of it all.  One side would whoop and holler, cheering and churning them on while the other side would be appalled and protest.  The protests were most entertaining to the cabinet, those that were the creators of the spectacle.  The were entertaining because they actually took themselves seriously.  The Leader would send troops to “break up unrest” and he smiled.  Even that was spectacle.

But now even that wasn’t necessary.  There were certain statements that would work.

“The enemies of our great nation…” The Leader would begin and whatever he said wouldn’t matter as long as he included these statements.

Don’t believe that the vermin will…there will be ‘tax breaks’.  They just want to steal from your hard-earned wages!” 

There it was, the phrase, the statement, the secret of the spectacle.  Other little gems like “traitors”, “liberals” and any number of things would be used as long as they kept the spectacle going.  People liked the spectacle.  Everything was entertainment.  It was all about the spectacle and nothing else.  It amazed him that it was so easy.  The assistant had been right.

“Just make shit up!”  the assistant had said, “The make shit up on the fly and smoke the hive and watch it rumble and while you do steal the honey.”