Circus of Destruction at Jigsaw Macrocosm Blog

dashendeavors

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“They want to cheat the axiom of existence and consciousness, they want their consciousness to be an instrument not of perceiving but of creating existence, and existence to be not the object but the subject of their consciousness --they want to be that God they created in their image and likeness, who creates a universe out of a void by means of an arbitrary whim. But reality is not to be cheated.”
-John Galt
Atlas Shrugged

This past Saturday, Dave and I went with our friend, Richard Addrisi and his friend Phillipe to the Carnival held in Gualeguaychu, Argentina every Saturday night through the months of January and February.
http://www.welcomeargentina.com/carnavales/index_i.html

Richard is the surviving brother of the Addrisi Brothers who wrote and performed one of the most played songs in the world, “Never My Love”. I learned on the bus ride with Richard to Gualeguaychu last year that he also wrote the theme song to Nanny and the Professor, a show I’d watch as a child with a secret wish that I could be a member of that family where ‘love’ and ‘magic’ were a practical means of daily life and overcoming challenges. In spite of that Carnival parade being cancelled a year ago, due to a rain out after a 4 hour bus ride to get there, that journey was tremendous fun, fueled by many delights not the least of which for me was finding out the Nanny and the Professor connection.

From the ages of 7 through 14 when my mother sent me away to live with my alcoholic father who kicked me out at 16, I lived under the roof of my step father’s dominion. My step dad is actually a man of many wonderful qualities and is spectacularly accomplished with multiple doctoral degrees in arts and sciences. I worshiped him from the time I was 3 years old, but unfortunately his greatness is only equaled by his insecurity and Narcissism which continues to manipulate and distort my mother’s values to this day. He was, of course, the victim of childhood abuses himself.

My worship of my step father was never enough for either him or my mother. It was a bottomless pit of insatiable need. As I began to lose respect for both of them through their insane and abusive treatment of me, I started having to fake my worship just to try and keep him and my mother from despising and punishing me. But that didn’t work either.

The rules were always changing and everything I did, whether conscious or unconscious, was taken as a threat to their authority. An example might be that if I was told not to put my fingers near my mouth for sanitary reasons, then picked up a piece of fried chicken to eat it, I was punished for ‘clearly’ defying their authority. Sandwiches however, were okay to pick up with my hands. (Go figure.)

I was not allowed in the family room, but if I stood leaning against the kitchen counter that was adjacent to the living room, I was perceived as challenging their authority. The restrictions always increased in severity and the list of conflicts and restrictions goes on and on and on.
My feelings were always dismissed wholesale and frankly, there was no freedom of expression at all from any member of my family; at least not until pressures built up enough to twist the metal containing everyone‘s repressed emotion.

To this day there is a great deal of energy devoted by my mother to manage my perceptions of the past and present, as if I am incapable of forming reasonable conclusions myself. She still insists that it was my choice to leave the family at 14. If I’d had my wits about me I’d say that’s exactly what I should have done. I should have removed myself as far away from that cuckoo’s nest as possible, but all I wanted -- more than anything -- was for everything to just be okay.

I relate this experience not as an attempt to elicit pity. Quite the contrary. I think it actually gave me a unique insight to the challenges that face contemporary culture and an ability to perceive events in my world for what they are rather than what I wish them to be. The arbitrary and subjective set of bizarre rules I was subjected to through the looking glass, ‘bad acid trip world’ of my childhood can be compared to many of the rules and regulations in our society today that have been devised as a means of harvesting our productivity, as well as the grotesque gobs of energy devoted to managing our perceptions of the economy and what is really going on in our lives.

As a recent example of this arbitrary law creation, I was checking my carry on luggage for the journey down to Argentina a few weeks ago, I was asked if I had anything sharp in my bag. In a momentary laps of sanity, I said there might be some manicure tools in there.

Was I nuts?

Those are the worst offense these days, right? I’d packed those tools in my checked luggage. But all the woman who was screening my belongings did after hearing this was look inside where my lotions containing less than two oz. were sealed in a baggy and told me next time I had to take them out of the backpack to scan separately. Really? Next time? Next time there will be a whole new set of rules to comply with.

We all still have to take off our shoes when passing through airport security, (to show our bovine compliance to authority?), yet when a Yemeni man calls the state department and tells them that his son is a potential threat to security and that he should not be permitted to fly, there is a curious suspension of any purposeful action to prevent that real threat from being carried out. A terrorist attack is allowed its success so our military gets to drop a few bombs that are building up in inventory making an excuse to build more.

Just as in my childhood home, where there was less concern for my wellbeing than there was for the maintenance of my stepfather‘s ego, our society is constructed in a legal matrix to deplete our value and energy for seemingly no other purpose than to affirm our government’s authority over our lives, although we’re told over and over it’s for our own protection and that our leaders really care about us. My mother loves me, she just wants me to be an entirely different non-being.

When I matured into an adult, I had to take responsibility and do the work required to deprogram the self-contempt that permitted me to replicate the injustices of my childhood in relationship after relationship, and replace it with self-love. I am finding that task more difficult in the society that demands the sacrifice of my reason, as well my productive energy in order to simply occupy space and sustain myself in the most austere manner. Every action I take in the endeavor of engaging society by earning money or spending it supports the destroyers of life that drain the energy of my life force though the taxes that are withheld in those transactions, not to mention inflation which eats away at my value even if I don’t lift a finger.

Because the behavior models are so similar between the Narcissistic parent, or individual and a government ruled by usurpers clothed in Central Banking and corporate interests, it seems there must be a common cause to these repeating patterns of effects.

It’s my belief that this common cause has something to do with what has been referred to by James Joyce as The Secret Cause. The Secret Cause is a subject worthy of its own segment of devotion which will have to be reserved for a later posting. What I will say about it now though, is that it has everything to do with fear; fear of mortality and the desire to be as gods -- exempt from the laws which govern the cosmos and to not be held to the strict standard of accountability demanded by Nature‘s moral code.

Joyce also affirms through his literature that it is the poets and the artists who are responsible for illuminating our world in a way that opens the inner eye of awareness to divine dimension, including the myriad of effects of this Secret Cause. The material of our lives is “forged in the smithy of the uncreated consciousness of [their] race” and reflected in mediums which allow the observer to see him or herself in relation to the environment more clearly and with fresh perspective.

Purposeful action is the intended affect.

But purposeful action in our world today is discouraged by a system that creates and manages reality in a way that obscures and blinds the vision of the third eye of inner awareness. Although it’s true that matter cannot be created by mankind, material forms certainly can be. Here is where I could digress with another discussion on form vs. substance, but this too will be saved for a later posting. The point is that when the Secret Cause is one’s motivating force, any resulting effect manifests in hollow, unsustainable, and immoral material forms.

The Central Banking System with its insatiable need to control every aspect of life and resources on this planet, has after over 300 years now achieved a major victory. Earth itself has become the highly controlled environment for what is no more than a grand confidence game. The big bankers are the puppet masters that demand to be worshipped by elected officials that are all paid to do their bidding. The two party system has morphed into a two faced sham concealing one unilateral ambition -- the details of which can only be known by our elites. All we know is, as George Carlin said, “It’s bullshit, and it’s bad for us.”

For the first time in history this system has corrupted every last regional economy to the point that all currencies, the very means of exchanging energy between human beings, are deeply corrupted, unimaginably immoral, and thoroughly unsustainable fiat trash. Even our US legal system has been distorted to operate with no objective standard of value, solely for the purpose of increasing and preserving institutional power. A corporate media is more and more effectively presenting distractions that interrupt any potential action we could take to protect ourselves, like finding strength in community -- not ‘Starbucks style’, or ’factory farm’ community, but the kind of interdependent community that forms out of mutual goals for life and happiness through adversity as well as ease.

A government which allocates enormous amounts of energy to managing public opinion; revising history, and dismissing or suppressing independent thought is, like a parent with needs at odds with his or her child‘s, one with an agenda that is at odds with the well being of a population. Although there is much that we're not permitted knowledge of, what we do know is enough to support a conclusion that our self sacrifice is required for this system to continue. ‘Mind’ is sacrificed to ‘muscle‘, reality to illusion, existence to non-existence. Whether this fact is accepted by one’s consciousness as evident or dismissed as lunacy is up to the ability of individuals to seek truth with a healthy sense of skepticism and trust their judgment.

A healthy sense of skepticism however, is what Carl Sagan observed to be in low supply just as much today in our ‘rational‘ world as it has been throughout the darkest ages of history.

One of the reasons my husband and I left for an extended stay in Argentina is so we can more easily withdraw our energy from a system that confiscates value for destructive endeavors. We see the cause and we see the affect. “Non-existence” is the irrational dominating morality of The United States, as failure continues to be rewarded and success is punished.

Marveling over the great levels of tolerance the vast majority of citizens have for such abuse against their humanity has proven to only be a further drain on our energy.

So here we are, back again in a beautiful land of people with their own problems.
This most recent trip to Gualeguaychu was made our first weekend back here. At some point during the long bus ride, Richard told us that John and Jackie Kennedy’s wedding dance was to the song “Never My Love”. Well, the surprises never stop with this man!

What on earth, you may wonder, does this have to do with the distortion of values by State and Individual Narcissism?

Well, firstly Jack Kennedy was one of the presidents who tried to wrest some of the power of currency creation away from the Central Banks. As Rob Kirby explains in his article, The Dead Presidents‘ Society;

“On June 4th, 1963, President Kennedy signed a presidential document, called Exec­utive Order
11110, which in itself further amended Executive Order 10289 of September 19th, 1951. This paved the way for the United States Treasury to create his own money, backed by silver, to run the country. This money would belong to the people, an Interest and debt-free money.”

If President Kennedy were to have carried out this executive order, there is a good chance that the people of our nation could have had a reasonable hope of curtailing much of the Empire and Nation building that has been achieved by a bloated military industrial complex, financed by debts of a corrupt Central Banking system that profits from all sides of any conflict. Conflict is, in fact, the main staple of Central Banks which vacuum up productive energy into a vast black hole of endless and insatiable need.

I also find this connection between the Kennedy’s, my friend’s art as a songwriter of love and magic, and the plundering vices of Empire that Kennedy had attempted to reign in a rather nice lead-in for some interesting spectacles we were to witness at the Carnival that night.

Again, it is the artists and poets who reflect our phenomenal world back to those of us who may see through the forms presented to the deeper dimension of their meaning. The costumes and floats in the parade are a wonder of accomplishment and dedication, and many had something to say that resonated on a deep level with Dave and me both.

Aside from the lavish display of feathers, color, design, sensuality, and vibrancy, we were treated to a political statement that was quite astonishing.

One of the auspicious floats was circus themed, topped by a presiding joker with a sinister smile holding two round, drum like signs that said; “La Banca Nunca Pierde”, (The Bank Never Loses), and a sign on his belly with dice rolling on it that said; “Jugar puede ser prejudicial para su salud”, (To play is harmful to your good health). Need I say more about that.

Another float seemed to reflect the image of a great automaton with a spinning head that had for sides, each split in two upper and lower halves. One side had golem eyes, and a shrieking red and fanged mouth, and another had the eyes and nose of Obama and the mouth of baby Bush. Could it be that the world sees these two as equally malicious, or as the same robotic mask carrying out remote orders?

In another segment of the parade, men outfitted in costumes that flaunted enormously large and muscle bound arms flexing from shoulders that were at least 8 feet broad, marched in erratic formations. Each step they took bounced the arms like Hans and Franz from Saturday Night Live striking their “Pump you up” pose. On their 5 foot broad chest was an US flag stars and stripes shield, and on their shoulders were three wild monkeys; the top monkey standing on its hands balancing the planet earth between its feet.

The other, most disturbing, socio-political statement was a float in dedication to the Federal Reserve.

The dancers that preceding this particular float, were decked in lush greenery, smiling and channeling a seemingly limitless source of energy. Then came the float. In the front there was greenery and abundance with children dancing, but above this and just slightly behind was a great behemoth of an oversized, fat, bloated banker wearing a wicked, greedy smile and US dollars coming out of his ears. The sculptured forms of the float that followed this grotesque image was of colorless, lifeless ghouls; hands extended out open in begging need of alms.

It would seem the system that exercises its power from behind the US political screen is an infamous one worldwide.

Since our leaders are so compulsively obsessed with creating or amplifying conflict, it’s the artists, poets, and those connected to reason, logic, and the higher faculties of the mind who are our only hope for awakening us from our somnambulistic walk through a world that’s gone far beyond the stage of total inversion. It’s been so ever since usurpers began to confiscate the bounty of this planet through the use of doctrinaire religions whose priests present images of our world and history in ’rational devaluations’ offering protections and a sense of security to the victims of the dark art of currency debasement. Prior to this time in the Western World, the artists and the poets were the priests and priestesses, though less and less after the closing of the Oracle at Delphi and the distortion of Dionysus into the merry drunkard Bacchus of the Roman Pantheon, (an interesting transformation of a mythic character reflecting the shift toward Imperialism.)

Since their demotion to mere entertainers in the early middle ages, the artist’s and poet’s work has been speaking loud and clear trying to illuminate the way out of our ego orientation for nearly 160 centuries. In countless themes the cause and effect dynamic of the Secret Cause upon humanity has been characterized, from tales of Merlin, Pendragon, and the Arthurian legends, to Hamlet…. Oliver Twist… Atlas Shrugged…. the Matrix… and on and on.

Unfortunately the vast majority of consciousness still only seeks ‘guidance’ in understanding the world around them today in places where there is a perceived “rational value”; those talking automaton two-faced heads of bubble-vision. They are the mouthpieces of anti-life, anti-reason, of enslavement to a system that flips the bird at consequences for the world is there to pay for their errors. The bigger their errors the bigger their paychecks.

Just like a parent that continues to assert control over his or her child into adulthood, this Narcissistic system of perversions that gets away with cheating reality can only do so with the people’s permission. Will it continue to succeed without Natural forces ever reconciling the error of our ways? Will the people forever sleep under the black magic spell of over-stimulation?

Never. Never, my love.

Pictures are available on Flickr.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/daveandash/
http://dashendeavors.blogspot.com/
 
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