Sycoma

Remember, Remember, the fifth of November

The gunpowder Treason and Plot.

I can think of no Reason

Why the gunpowder Treason

Should ever be Forgot.

Ah good old Guy Fawkes day, a day to celebrate anarchical failure, funny isn’t it, when it should be the east winged politicians who should be rejoicing in the failure of their liberal counterparts in their attempt to detonate the London Parliament house and assassination of the King.

Unusually, the protestants should be happy considering this bunch of Mad Ass Catholics wanted to wipe out their population.

How it was fictionally fulfilled in the Alan Moore graphic novel, and its corporate sucking motion picture production (which, wasn’t bad, but quite disappointing considering the comic was there and then iconic as it is, though many thanks to the Wachowski brothers, made it seem more like a terrorist movie rather than a movie about anarchy).

Sure many people are blind sheep aimlessly wandering dales and valleys waiting to be sheared and slaughtered and then roasted with a side of mint, and there are also wolves lurking in the dark corners of enlightenment waiting to preach or devour, be it in a pack or alone.

It would be my annual homage to Guy Fawkes and his little tavern of liberals when I go for a haircut later this afternoon (mohawk of course, well, I’d usually leave it down the side of my face and call it a ‘mobop’)

But the most important thing today is to remember that on this day, four hundred and four years ago, was that effort to revolt was there and because of that, Catholics are allowed to roam freely in society like a rat in the sewers (pun intended).

Well, I guess I’ll light my bonfire with a little dose of potassium chlorate for that extra bang for kicks.

But also, without him, you wouldn’t have the term guy, meaning at that era, an oddly dressed person, thus coming into the 20th century for males.

But you can find all that load of info at wikipedia itself, so me telling you, would be a waste of my effort, considering that people would think I was lifting, but well, we’re evolved, and accusation (and many other fatal judgements and emotions) evolved with us.

Fawkes at midnight, and by torchlight there was found

With long matches and devices, underground

Well, I’d better be off watching the movie right after I watch Stanly Kubrick’s The Shining.

 

Sometimes I wonder who really is sane; someone who exposes his animality, or someone who cultivates his naturalistic desires through the approval of society.

Sometimes I wonder who really are the mad people around here; for civilised people have a weird philosophy of living; in an ordinate subterranean dwelling where their actions have to reflect on the person and his ancestors and his future kin, where whatever they do has to be monitored by the keen eye of morality and justice, where everything is kept under an unnatural system of vagaries obfuscating and contradicting itself; how do we even make sense of our own anomalistic behaviors and thinking.

Maybe the Wachowski brothers were right, we are a virus, infesting like a sly, vile creature that pretends to be kind to everything.

Hey if 2012 was the end of the world, then so be it; we get to see what the Mayans predicted, and the best part of all is that they can’t jump around like crazed chimpanzees (in reference to the monkeys in 28 Days Later), point at us and shouting within their laughter: WE TOLD YOU SO, SUCKERS! WE FUCKING TOLD YOU SO, AND WHAT DID YOU DO?! YOU DENY IT LIKE THE PURE IDIOTS YOU ARE AND RANT ABOUT YOUR GODS, YOUR DARWIN, YOUR NIETZSCHE, YOUR WACHOWSKI AND YOUR WARS, BUT NOOOO, DON’T LISTEN TO US AND THE SCIENTISTS WHO CONFIRMED US, THIS IS WHY YOUR ARCHEOLOGISTS COULD NEVER UNDERSTAND OUR BLOODY TEMPLE! THIS IS WHY LOVECRAFT HAD TO WRITE ABOUT SOME MYTHICAL BEAST IN SOME BULLSHIT AREA YOU CAN’T EVEN BLOODY PRONOUNCE BECAUSE HE COULDN’T GET HIS ASS OUT OF HIS AUNTYS’ ATTIC TO WRITE A DECENT STORY THAT DIDN’T GIVE PEOPLE NIGHTMARES AND WEIRD, SADISTIC THINKING!

And we’d have to look at them with the blank faces and die, how sad. 

Hence: a singular strain of DNA

Ah, hope; the single quintessential epitome of the entire strength and weakness of all surviving humanity. Life gets duller and duller each day, good thing there’s you and our fun. On every scale, microscopic and anthropological, life is disgusting and meaningless and filthy.

So I make fun of it.

People are sick, they uphold the “disabled” as though the disabled have to be treated specially because of what they lack, are they not human, don’t they deserve the similar justifications we are entitled to?

So what is entirely wrong with making fun of a disabled person?

Not making fun of one would be a sheepish, sly excuse to exclude a disabled person from any humanity there is.

So what do you idiots think?

Whaddya know, it’s a tektratrideskaphobic.

Nietzsche.

Freud.

Lovecraft.

Poe.

Palahniuk.

Kant.

Shakespeare.

Paglia.

Rimbaud.

Wachowski.

Morrison.

Moore.

Barker.

Dai.

Bakunin.

Darwin.

Chomsky.

Piaget.

Abrams.

Maslow.

Marx.

Jung.

Cantor.

Turgenev.

King Solomon.

Duchamp.

Warhol.

De Sade.

Buddha.

Azzarello.

The Whole System Is Shit.

Bring the 1800’s back so we can all rediscover everything.

Maybe everything would make sense if we had schizophrenia.

There is no real world.

There is Nothing.

Nothing is Something.

Everything is a fucking gyp of dissolution.

Contradictive Meaninglessness.

What the FUCK is wrong; WHAT THE fuck IS RIGHT?

I don’t want to LIVE; I don’t want to DIE.

I want nothing.

Nothing is Something.

I don’t want Nothing.

I don’t want Something.

I don’t want Anything.

Anything could be Something.

Contradictions!

Lies!

Truth.

There is no Truth.

Truth is a Lie.

There is no Lie.

There is Nothing.

Nothing is Something.

Something is Nothing.

Everything is Something.

Nothing is Everything.

Everything is Nothing.

Nothing.

Something.

Everything.

Nothing.

Empty.

Full.

Dark Matter.

Everything has Matter.

Nothing has NO Matter.

Then surely, Nothing is Something DIFFERENT.

It’s STILL SOMETHING.

Subterfuge of Subterfuge.

What the FUCK is going on?

What the FUCK is NOT going on?

But Surety is Absolute.

There are NO Absolutes.

No Absolutions.

The Entirety of EVERYTHING is like a dog chasing its tail.

There is no Purpose.

There is no Meaning.

There are only Theorems.

Explanation is a fallacy; a vagary.

Which comes to the BIG ‘W’…

Why?

As much as I explain, I still shrug and walk away, hoping this mess would sort itself out.

But I have sorted it out.

Chaos in a system.

That Ying and Yang Bullshit.

Balance and Disorder.

The Chinese had a point, they just fucked it up.

The Russians had a point, they got fucked.

Hitler tried to prove a point, just forgot what it was along the way.

The Greeks made many points, they were forgotten along the way.

The Romans just had contradictive points.

Egyptians, however, got caught in that mess.

Aurelius had many attempts at making a point, ah well…

Aesop put points into creativity, people called them morals, joke.

Persepolis was a great comic, just fucking underrated.

GG Allin didn’t make any attempt to make a point, he was a point.

The Japanese are just mean. But they don’t mean it.

Philosophy is so nonsensical, that’s why I love it.

I don’t know Good nor Evil.

They are Nothing.

Here we go again…

See you soon weirdos. You weird, empty people with false ideologies to make life seem so “blissful”. Who bear moralities and values. Who conspire against the universe with babbles of power and wealth and justice. Stick to drinking your overpriced champagne, popping its cork like how you popped your brains. Somehow, it’s hard to and not to be sick at you. You’re human, I’m human, what’s the difference? Ah well, I think you’re weird.

You.

Yes, you, reading right now…

Turn around.

Now that you’ve turned back, I’m guessing you did turn around because you have nothing better to do.

You see, that’s how meaningless life is.

I personally feel…

The progression of science has always been the question of ethics, morality, religion, belief; all the condescending vagaries we have implemented for an empty purpose with no meaning whatsoever.

When the first transplant in the 1950’s was successfully performed, many condescending fucks across the globe, demised and cursed at this considerably celebrated milestone of medical science, instead of the triumph it was expected to harvest, it was said as a despicable act of blasphemy.

Now, to me, that is a fucking load of crap.

All these lifeless religious bastards, all so wise and revered, with their moustaches and round rimmed specs played bitch to science.

Now that is betrayal of the human intellect.

Because if a person cannot accept science as a study of theories and proof, and religion as a cultural theory and controlled moral teachings (mind you, this is my subjective opinion, so any of you out there who think/feel otherwise and/or pissed, and you want to do all you want to preach about how your personal concept of universal preferable behavior/perception, spare it, if you’re ever trying to impart, or enforce, or even just share anything at all with someone, just understand that people have opinions too, at least, that’s what I think), then that person is one selfish, ignorant cunt who deserves to have rusty nails embedded in his/her body then sewed into the stomach of a cow along with a dog, a snake and a monkey, then thrown into deep water, oh the roman beauty.

But hell, I was trying to research more studies on nanotechnology when I came across a list of ethics to be practiced when dealing with nanotech.

I mean, science should never be about ethics considering it is a study of the natural world and its progressing, modern counterparts, is it not?

And since almost every thing in the universe is considered part of the natural world, then ethics should not be in question or practiced.

We didn’t advance in medical science if we’d thought that cutting up a body and its muscles and tissues to remove cancer and tumours, or whichever anomaly we might have if we thought it was mean to a person if we were to cut them up a little.

We wouldn’t have understood the anatomy of anything if we didn’t cut them up either.

In fact, all along, I’d think science is a game of risks we have to be willing to take.

Where would we have been if not for anesthetics, if not for finding what would kill that viscous matter from eating at our lacerations.

Ethics are a deep, deep incision that slows science from moving along.

Ah well, if that’s how it’s going to be, might as well not care about it.

nonchalance

“Why, Mr. Anderson? Why do you do it? Why get up? Why keep fighting? Do you believe you're fighting for something? For more than your survival? Can you tell me what it is? Do you even know? Is it freedom? Or truth? Perhaps peace? Yes? No? Could it be for love? Illusions, Mr. Anderson. Vagaries of perception. The temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose. And all of them as artificial as the Matrix itself, although only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love. You must be able to see it, Mr. Anderson. You must know it by now. You can't win. It's pointless to keep fighting. Why, Mr. Anderson? Why? Why do you persist?”

“I wish you could see yourself Mr. Anderson... Blind messiah. You're a symbol for your kind, Mr. Anderson.”

“Throughout human history, we have been dependent on machines to survive. Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony.”\

“The Matrix is a system, Neo. That system is our enemy. But when you're inside, you look around, what do you see? Businessmen, teachers, lawyers, carpenters. The very minds of the people we are trying to save. But until we do, these people are still a part of that system and that makes them our enemy. You have to understand, most of these people are not ready to be unplugged. And many of them are so inured, so hopelessly dependent on the system, that they will fight to protect it.”

“I'd like to share a revelation that I've had during my time here. It came to me when I tried to classify your species and I realized that you're not actually mammals. Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with the surrounding environment but you humans do not. You move to an area and you multiply and multiply until every natural resource is consumed and the only way you can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. Do you know what it is? A virus. Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet. You're a plague and we are the cure. “

I guess we have degenerated into a generation of quotes and empty collective ideologies which we force ourselves to die for.

So tell me, or your subconscious selves what you actually have to die for, which is the quantum equation to nothingness itself so well, let’s all die for nothing.

Now that’s ripping off and having a trilogy.

She’s a bitch, but she’s my bitch.

You know, you’re probably the only person I can stand talking about one thing a quarter-way through, shuffle between other quarterly discussed subjects and resume talking about them in the same sober tones of Darwin and Wallace.

And all the multivariate topics that spew off, from Macbeth to rudimentary theorems in religion, to bitching about people (oops), they’re all fun.

Cause you know, I love it when you alternate your accent, and jostle through your moods, I love it when you’re being bitchy to me because it irritates me so much I just laugh it off, I hate it when I have to be sweet to you because it’s no fun seeing you mad and having your eyes widen, I love it when you talk me down cause it’s so kickass to have a fierce girlfriend, and you, whenever you squeal your funny nonsense, I love the way you react to your idiocy.

Also love it when we spar, cause I get to chicken out!

And can you not dance in front of me just to tell me I look like Frankenstein trying a small sized condom out.

Now onto the serious stuff.

It’s not a long post, but to summerise it up:

I love your daily complaints, your random ranting, scrabble with you, and you, there’s more, but I’d like to show you than tell you on a anonymous blog.

Stumble

I run amok, panicked, eyes shooting here and there trying my best to focus, but it all fails. I’m left with nothing but desperation, like an aimless gust of wind, collecting everything but keeping nothing.

And I scream: where is god?!

Is he a subjective-relative algorithm that can be compressed into a finite explanation such as the Christian Trinity, the anatomy of atoms. The will of god is then also the reason of the mysterious, unexplainable and incomprehensible; are these then considered divine and credited to this unknown celestial we, since our directive primitive civilisations, come to explain as god.

A religious man can tell you a million and one things and relate them to god, what he can also tell you is the supportive sequential events and objects involved and its depictive meanings which is entirely based on his religious point of view, but what he cannot tell you is why, he cannot explain. He can go on and on on how his god died for him on the cross, but what he does not admit is the fact that he had said his god has died. Then comes the reason of “he rose again on the third day of his death”, I’d go: “sure, I’d give you that, but what about the other 3 days he was dead?”

Risen, but never to be seen again for many distant centuries.

So about the 3 days, what was the world then; if this god had created and arranged everything then he’d be the main source of power, and if he died, then what became of the rest of the expanding, infinite, observable universe we long to venture and much as we have for the sea.

But I don’t care about god. Don’t care about the afterlife, don’t care about death much, not so much about life too, though it is very nice to create a majestic monument out of the most very simple things.

If you broke everything down and carefully put it under the microscope, then we’d just see a bunch of atoms or fathoms that trace back to its historical meaninglessness.

So there isn’t much to live for, really. So I’ll keep learning until I really sort my mess out.