Perdition, such a destitute place once you know its meaning.
Perdition, purity unattainable, and if it is, you don't really matter as matter anymore...
Perdition, such a beautiful word.
Perdition, such a destitute place once you know its meaning.
Perdition, purity unattainable, and if it is, you don't really matter as matter anymore...
What is ratio in real time? Matter of least insignificance to most? Find that fucking # Aronofsky conceived on film that has haunted so many more the numerous since its inception and before. Juggle on.
My devices might not hold battery power compared to current longevity standards, but they do enough for me- just enough before a charging. Not a siege, though, by any means. I wouldn't want you to confuse my outdated shit for the current current. I'm not beating a harkening back-to on my drums, I don't even play anymore. Losing your way and fine-tuning it with age is all just the same, anyway.
They sounded like feral natives, from some southern patch of terra incognita, after a hefty kill that would feed the tribe for months; celebrating their win.
And I enjoyed it.
With it, though, another long and edgy season is finished. Considered a fifth by some Canadians, and as the commercial purports.
It was thrilling, finally being from the city whose team a whole country gets behind in the Stanley Cup playoffs. Starting with a relatively easy meeting with the Wild which led into a beautiful, head-scratching, back and forth, give and take series with the Predators that, in turn, gave way to an abysmal and heart-wrenching dismantling and expulsion at the hands of the newly minted Golden Knights.
I won’t pretend that that one didn’t sting horribly. Ready to write off the rest of the playoffs, I cut the broadcast immediately after the last buzzer of our season rang through not only Bell MTS Place, but the city as a whole. That collective displeased groan of bewilderment that I had heard of through vignette and anecdote, but never with my own actual ears— intuitively, of course.
We were pumped. With the beast of the league vanquished, we all could only then start seriously adding “Stanley Cup” into our discussions concerning the Jets. And even then it was like one of those ‘I don’t want to say too much because I know better than to get too hyped, but golly-gee, I think we can do it and I can’t contain my excitement.’ kind of things.
Now, while I’d like to go on more about what I think happened, or didn’t happen, for our Winnipeg Jets, I will refrain. It still hurts a little. Mitigated, thankfully, with the championship being crowned on the heads of the Washington Capitals— Alex Ovechkin especially. I’d never get the taste out of my mouth had the Knights won. That black malignancy that could only be treated with an injection of headlines coming from the local papers that read : They Did It! The Jets Are Champions. (from this sim, or another)
It is a pity that because of the times we live in, with all the scandals and outings of cheating and doping athletes, some of us can’t help but call the whole thing rigged. It is an easy out for the dejected. Granted. Not so much a healthy one, but nonetheless a court to air complaints.
Now, had Vegas won the Cup I would be forever unreasonable in my adamance that it was all fixed. Done in order to solidify interest and faithfulness in a fledgling market towards a new team in a weird, tales-told/not-told town. Having not won the Cup, however, I rest mostly easy knowing Ovi finally has one, and that he won’t be one of those superstars who retire really deserving to hoist Lord Stanley’s mug, but that never do.
I say, “rest mostly easy” with heavy and weary emphasis on mostly, mind you, as it all still looks a mite staged to me.
The way it all ended was perfect for hockey in Las Vegas : Beat the second place team in the league. Get to the final. Lose. But at home. Put the cup on display. Roll out the pageantry. Bob in front of all those tentative fans, both domestic and passing-through band-wagoners, that flood the city of the sinful— a backdrop and muse for everything and their flip sides from the beauty of ‘A' to the toxicity of ‘Z’— the barbed fishing hook that so many loyal sports fans have gone for over the years. I mean, shit, did you hear the reception Gary Bettman got? He was actually able to say his paid-for bullshit bit without being consumed by the unanimous booing well-seasoned hockey fans are used to him receiving. And if that doesn’t stand as evidence for the case against the majority of Knights fans as nonplussed, uninitiated greenhorns, I don’t know what is.
I mean, if the interest and buzz hadn’t’ve been as instant and Cinderella’d, I wonder if the Knights would’ve ended up surviving. The Jets were one of those teams when they were the Thrashers— an experiment in an iffy market that wound up falling apart and getting sold. It had to be on the mind of William P. Foley, owner of the Golden Knights. No one likes to lose in Vegas, but it is a definite component that makes that city run. And what kind of following would you get by riding another loser into town AND try to profit from it. It seems like a common sense thing to me, but what do I know?
So, now that the lid is off, and the theories, inane or otherwise, can breathe, I’ll have at the damp-basement, moth-eaten ones that I can never prove. At least not by fact, but with personal conviction and fresh cynicism.
Statistics drive me mad. I don’t have a mind for them. What gets me even tighter in the neck is how superstitions play so well with those dirty blurbs like the team who scores first wins 95% of the time, or something about road and home records. Can’t a new day just be a new day? Can’t a new game just be a new game? No psycho stats. Just an anything-can-happen event. No. There’s always a Hollywood storyline to be exploited or created. Humans have always loved that kind of shit. I don’t care if you’re a small-town talker or a big-city blabbermouth, everyone loves tension on some level, sadistically or masochistically— there’s a table to sit at for everyone— just not necessarily in the same room, or building, from which to feast with gluttonous appetite.
Superstition in Sport is nothing new. Laps around the ice. Not shaving. Sexual abstinence. Rafael Nadal’s self-molestation before a serve (could be considered tics of a grand slam OCDer). A can only wear the number four, or multiples of it player. Talking to goalposts, or tapping them. Pissing on one’s hands to harden them before taking the field. Or perhaps just in the corners of a stadium to ward off evil spirits. Listening to Anvil of Crom before each period. Wearing the jersey only on game days (a couple of mine, freshly added to the throng).
Now, while I know, thinking critically, that these are all dumb, pointless, incapable of really changing an unwritten conclusion for something, but I still abide them. Praying in my own way, I suppose. In the pews of some personal church few, if any, join me in. There are other churches with other customs. And just because my superstitions failed doesn’t mean all superstitions failed. While most were ultimately assailed, a lucky few worshipped and barked with glee that theirs won out and held true. And I’m glad it isn’t those from that place in the desert that holds mythical and bona fide stature, simultaneously.
I’ve never been to Las Vegas. Well aware of it, though. And now, if ever there was a chance going to see it for myself, stalk those attractions painted warped and psychedelic by Hunter Stockton Thompson, or sung about with such depressed excitement as was done by King Elvis Aaron Presley, it has now been executed. I would not last as free man, telling Vegas patrons where I’m from, and hearing whatever cavalier spew trash-talk they got loaded up like a pair of shady dice that’re ready to be thrown.
Where other teams and their fans would lament the oh-so-close-I-hate-this-trend-when-will-it-be-our-time? finish to the season, it was the best runner-up finish Vegas could hope for— their fans not ever knowing heartbreak and struggle, or appreciate what is involved in building a team out of immature and semi-steady wood that’s not ready to burn and is in need of support work.
And you want to know what? I had my jersey off, and didn’t play Anvil of Crom before the third period of Game 5 between the Jets and the Golden Knights. Did I botch the season, not being there when they needed me the most? Not at all. But that doesn’t stop the stupid superstition from scratching at me like branches from a spruce tree in a dense forest.
Fuck the Beloved. Any way and all ways.
Dedicated to HST & KEAP
i know now how a new parent finds God in its child. i know now how reincarnation is a thing. i know now how we feel vibration and can’t articulate its exact consolidation. i know, you know. And it makes me weak with joy. A joy of which i feel the need to fight for, if i must. i think, anyway.
A quarter of a century spent,
paying off more in precious memories than in $’s.
As the fuse of time is eaten by the fire it was lit with, I sit & try to bottle all of those 25 seasons into something small.
Something that sums it all up quickly & easily.
But I can’t.
If i want to go on in detail I’d be leaving behind more than just a page.
I speak to you from a tumultuous age;
where present is clutched & torn. The past on one side. The future on the other. Shrouded in tentative musings that the right & the wrong directions can take on each others title from time to time.
I hope that you, living in your present— my future— are reading this free from consternation and stalled wheels. Unburdened by authority & spirit barking at each other. That maybe things have been revisited & worked out. And that the disaster I suspect to be catalyzing worldwide (100 years removed from The Great War) has not come to be a reality. That after all, I was just made to be crazy by current transpirations because I cared…but that it was also made so difficult to care about everything all the time.
I hope that you are enjoying life. Not just out here to seek respite from all the bullshit offered, unsolicited at every intersection in our cities.
Look out south and know that from where you stand, I once did…Hoping for an end to humanity’s angst…And if you are just a machine, well, I don’t expect anything other than the burning of these words. For you aren’t even a you, and what lay across this bay; the beauty, the solace, The Spirit, is lost. And my lunacy proved true.
Just try to escape.
A referred pain,
all over the body.
The sickness of kings,
of sovereigns so noble.
The leeching and pleading,
binding word to a debt they'll never have to pay.
Devoid of contribution.
An abstract evolution.
on the dead,
A voice descanting poetic oblivion;
the death aesthetic,
as dancers around the shaman pound the earth and shake bells at the sky.
Ordered chaos of an interpretive design.
Watch me revert back to my poisonous self,
the carcinogenic reality.
Is there really any fresh air anymore?
Only retaining heat because of our atmospheric shield.
How long do you really think you'll last,
out there in space,
the great beyond,
without major reconstructive alterations to your structure.
Stand as you do on earth,
unique to its conditions,
but a part of billions of the same particulate.
The universe will consume you,
but it will not become you,
you will become of it.
A product of environment.
and tuned up;
Humming along nicely
The director knows the right lens.
The writer the right lines.
The actor knows the right cue and mark.
And the audience knows only what they're told.
Even then it's hard to digest
The fucking titular,
reach out and touch it.
the grinding so...
so in the vortex,
Quiver if you want to.
God damn it...
Come on you crows.
Roost on that phone pole.
Call after me.
Caw your shrill tone.
Bait me with your murder.
Bones rattled scared,
a sacred prayer.
Remiss to true love,
a stumble in a stupor.
I can laugh again, now.
A smile amid the torture.
It all ties in,
in the end.
Right and full circle,
the crows watch.
Feeding on the kill left behind...
The precious now ashes..
The fragile now food...
Here we are, at another crossroads. Humanity & Singularity. 1% v. 99%. Socialism & Capitalism. Left & Right. Right & Wrong. Riots & Protests. War & Peace. Austerity & Prosperity. Young v. Old. Progression & Status Quo. Effigies & Bronze Busts. Production & Consumption. Supply & Demand. Free Trade & Tariffs. Corporate Profit v. Labour Wages. Allies v. Aggressors. Sadist v. Masochist. All The Eternal Dichotomies.
No end to it in sight, forever the contentious, and the past’s problems, too. This is no longer about sequestered conflict in twice-removed, under-developed countries ripe for the conquering. We are now a global consciousness, not a new statement, in the sense that the globe is connected like never before. That information travels faster than those who speak it. That those afforded the time and resources to learn, be involved with, or monitor this ever growing spectrum of said information and opinion are one step ahead of the game-- one that very well could have esoteric rules about pace of play-- but that can still lag behind like a person's body when they channel through vastly different hemispheric time zones, disrupting their circadian rhythms, as their autonomous physiology struggles to adapt, perhaps against a will determined to fight the inevitable tiresomity we humans endure daily, naturally.
So where’s the solution? What is the solution? Is there a solution? Not a final one, no. An ultimate one. The one in the core of the being of good-hearted people...A solution that won't turn out to be just another temporary one. Will this aggregate humanity that's living and breathing right now continue on with the temporary after the temporary after the temporary? Or will it meet with its own, new and improved, 'Greatest War' to provide this teenage century with enough stigma, loss and battle weariness so that we can get through another one?
Now, here comes the real crazy...
I have a proposal, if you’ll have me. It’s not a solution, by any means. Fringe thinking it will be, yes, but maybe those desolate wanderers, out on the salt flats of Hope, wanting to arrive at something worth listening to, need some fringe thinking every now and then…When everything seems so hard to balance…A mental governing move to see if we really can make it.
It’s really more of a social experiment than anything. But the outcome will provide more insight to, and into, everyday people (more stranger danger reconciliation) AND provide a social paradigm that will set standards and template for social reform for centuries to come.
It’s simple really. Not simple in the sense of feasibility, though. Simple in the sense that while being both a break from routine, and a re-enfranchising of those dissed, we’ll get to see what people are really made of. And after it’s well removed and tested and made statistic, 50 years from implementation, we’ll have the data. And no one will have recourse if they turn out to be a failure at it.
I propose that everyone, from the age of 19 on up, be given access to an account with the sum of $123,000, to do with as they will. No restrictions on how it’s spent. No tax applied when money is withdrawn. No hassle. No worries. A one time massive payout. This will not be a fixed social program. One and done and that's it. Let’s see if we really can work together as a true, human, republic. Representatives are still needed. Government will not collapse…Hopefully…But there will be a cull.
Now, while not saying I know all the intricacies, I think I can incorporate and effectively unite aspects of Socialism, Capitalism and Libertarianism. There’s no wipe clean of anything here. This is a last ditch splurge. Like a parade balloon bursting and it’s full of match-head capsules that are a super strain xanax/street-molly mix. This is the televised Big Bang.
Just to be clear: When I mean everyone, I even mean to include the super rich. This isn’t just a give-the-guy-a-break, weekend disco blitz. I mean to include everybody. Absolute equality. No preferential treatment…Within a country’s borders, of course…This isn’t a World wide plan…HAHAHAHAHAHA…By no means could THAT ever work…
(Opportunity for rebuttal is welcome)
By that, I mean, In no way will this eliminate inequality. But it very well could remove any kind of argumentative clause focused on the class system and its unfairness. $123,000 is the kind of money that changes lives forever. It facilitates individuality and community. It can strengthen families and reestablish trust amongst the toxified. Under the right kind of trustworthy scrutiny, that is. And decided by vote…obviously…
Structure and logistics aside, people will come out and vote for this. No undecided or unwilling to cast a ballot. People will come to vote a simple yes or no…Think of it as a shaky investment into the goodwill and future of humanity most of us think is there, but have never seen any evidence proving that we can really come together and bloom.
“It’s irresponsible!” Bellow the officials.
Maybe, but why are you more inclined to understand responsibility than the rest of us? Because you’re appointed? You’re only appointed because we need a system set up so the folks that don’t want to deal with it every fucking day, don’t have to. This could be a Socratic democracy, wherein, through mandatory self-examination under sodium amytal(condition of holding public office), and a purge and replacement of officials every 36 months( in an attempt to curb corruption), could eliminate some elements that Socrates was critical of Democracy for. (*if it works even 65% of the way I’m thinking. 65% is a passing grade in the subject of Everything. Wouldn’t you agree? Hope gives us those kinds of odds, at least).
Yes, some will overdose on the immediate gratification. But for all those that do, a tripled amount, maybe greater, will overcome and prove, what I believe to be is what most optimists believe about the human race: that we are good, and the right and just way will always prevail, however slowly...At least I hope so. I have no evidence or fact to suggest how people will behave if this social experiment were to be tested. Disastrous or Progressive? There will be advocates and refuters arguing the hypothetical results all the way up to, through and afterwards, no doubt.
Couple three caveats I will apply strictly: those under the age of 25 have to wait until their 25th birthday to access their funds, recipient must be a full-fledged citizen of the country participating for at least 7 years, must be more than 6 months removed from succumbing to a terminal illness (*if disease goes into remission, or is survived, recipient can claim after allotted time passes and falls into aforementioned categories. But recipient must have valid DOB within guidelines)
Again, sure, people will waste their money. It’s a lot of money. But I can’t stress how much I think most will exercise prudence. This is not a lightly discoursed idea. I really think this would prove beyond a doubt, what we’re made of.
It will promote both growth and collapse. Not, or collapse. And. A good kind of collapse though. The kind that make you think about rebuilding.
I know what you’re thinking right about now, and no, there won’t be a mass exodus of the working class. By and large people are sensible. Don’t you think so, too? Sometimes it’s a fucked up kind of sensible, but it still resides inside the definition. I’m not saying those more impetuously prone won’t go wild, but for the most part I think people will exercise rational thinking. It works both ways: the prudent will keep working, fending off economic stall fears, and the impetuous will blow through their grant and be back at the grind again with no one to blame…Mea Culpa their motto— if impoverished it is, impoverished it will be.
This idea is about those who could thrive, if it weren’t for anchoring setbacks of Life, or the chance to climb out of the hole, if not a little bit, all the way. Pay off debt, or the house, or the car, or the yacht, or the medical bills, or the gamble that didn’t turn the right kind of chance. Whatever.
Those whom choose to go back to school can rent apartments and pay for schooling without crippling student debt following them around for the rest of their lives. At least not as much.
Life’s a fight. Cumbersome days pile up. To that, there is no definitive escape. On that, I think we can agree.
Think of those burdened with the weight of raising children. They will get a much needed load lessening boost (some households may get $246,000! Maybe even more depending on the eligible dependants residing under one roof). People will invest, badly or successfully. The money WILL get redistributed in the economy anyways. Thusly keeping the machine going as well as relieving stress. How quickly the effects occur depends on how adept the recipients are with the “endowment”.
Now, let’s get to where the money come from? I think it safe to say that if people were to be given the option to vote on such a proposal they should be made aware that funding from other services will be diminished. Taxes won’t stop. They can’t. Infrastructure, maintenance, public services like ambulance, police, garbage removal, buses, various intrapreneurs that need to be put somewhere instead of a shelter of unplaceables, city workers(yes, city workers) and medical care(where applicable) will need to be be kept running. Squalor and Unruliness can’t be the order of the day. THAT just won’t work. Nope. Never will. We could try it. Might even be how this whole thing plays out. But we can’t bank on it. We can’t hope for it, or say that’s definitely going to be what happens…I mean, we could…But that’s pessimistic, right?
The government will take a hit, I know. A huge hit. But it will recover. I has to, doesn’t it?
I mean, if we’re already heading down this divisive path—not unlike the rest of historical evidence, I point out— then why don’t we start thinking way outside the box, right? That’s the point of all this conjecture, this thought process, isn’t it? To find solutions? Well, this is a damn fine start. It’s got everything we love: Endurance, Intrigue. Drama, Suspense, Justice, Equality, Faith, Chance, Redemption and Truth…If this was a movie, it would win best picture at the oscars.
For logistics, as the process will take a lot of preparation, registration will begin well in advance of implementation. Bottom line is: If you don’t register, you don’t benefit. Easy. Caveat numero uno, now that I think about it. If the only contribution a person knows they have to make to get this is sitting down for 15 minutes( wait times will not be approximated) to register, but chooses to procrastinate, then it’s nobody’s fault but their own…Mea Culpa…
Illa Anima Est (That’s Life). *researched, no one owns language
A cut back on defence spending, foreign aid, welfare will also shrink, if not vanish. The elimination of superfluous positions within the government is another must. Now, while that may stir protest, remember, the $123,000 will provide adequate severance packages for those deemed extraneous. They won’t be axed with prejudice, but with necessity(or rather, unnecessarity). And if they live outside their means…Well, too fucking bad. They won’t be the only ones; class be damned.
Again, by no means does that mean government will be completely disbanded. it’ll just be minimized— regulated, if you will. This venture will still need officials on both a federal and state/provincial level, and those of lesser stature(instructors, managers, babysitters, assistants, superintendents, janitors, security, marshals, overseers, foremen and rodent control experts).
And yes, I’m already there. I know the greedy and apathetic will be pronounced. But the empathetic and compassionate will shine with as much a force as the selfish will(they’ve just got to(if not for me, for themselves)). It’s one of the great curtain pulling points: that the egregious, normally undetectable, will come to prominence. Attitudes all around will both palliate and exacerbate— and therein lies the promise(all wrapped up and waiting to be discovered). It will separate people based on nothing more than their condition, innate or developed through Life when provided with a tidy alleviatory means.
Something else to consider: while no taxes will be applied to the $123,000 sum upon receipt by the individual entitled to it, it will be taxed if given as a gift. Inherited money follows the same rule on a % based value. Let’s say, 8.5%, just to have a negotiable number to start with.
It will incentivize those incarcerated to do their time amicably, stay straight and rehabilitate. For those imprisoned, an amount of $300, to be subtracted from the sum, may be added to an inmates commissary providing they undergo drug testing every month, and participate in an introduction to vocational training course (through books and video), and if an imprisoned person wants to use the time they owe society, and the money to which they are entitled, to pursue a correspondence course or any kind of higher learning, there will be specialists to facilitate that use of funds accordingly.
As for severe addicts and those of dire mental illness’. If at time of registration, the registrar observes extreme erratic behaviour, or feels cause to screen applicant for bio-chemical issues, then the applicant must submit blood and urine sample for analysis before the registration can proceed. If citizen is found to be in distress, or is dependant on debilitating substances, they will be provided with care and counselling to beat the addiction, and thus, upon success and under strict rules for use of funds, become admissible to the payout program. These are extreme cases we’re speaking about. Many can hide addiction well. That is not uncommon. And we can’t just pick and choose here. It has to be a pronounced visible display of addiction-irregular behaviour. If a person displays such behaviour and submits the required samples for testing and it comes back negative, the applicant will be allowed to proceed with the registration. Because we all know, some people don’t need drugs to be visibly unhinged. As for those whom keep their ill-mentality under wraps, there will be a short questionnaire to determine if their share needs to be handled by a willing third party. NO SOLICITING AID. THOSE FOUND GUILTY OF SUCH ACUMEN WILL BE PROSECUTED.
As criminal record checks will be mandatory, they will not affect the applicants right to the payout program.
Forfeit of the $123,000 sum can occur if the recipient is found guilty of nefarious use of the funds: drug trafficking(all but marijuana(marijuana will have been completely decriminalized)), prostitution (which should be legalized and regulated(think how many budding entrepreneurs could get an enterprise off the ground with the cash)), illegal gun distribution, sophisticated corruption...Any unlawful use, really.
Sure, it’ll cost trillions of dollars. But as the saying goes, ‘You’ve got to spend money to make money’. And people love money. We sure do. And we love to spend it, too(obligatorily & discrentonarily)…
Hey! A poor and askew job comes from those that think they can do the job of many, for many. And we already have a pretty good understanding of how things have been going for the last few millennia, collectively…I Hope.
So c’mon, let’s do the Alleviation Shuffle. The 21st Century Reparations Flip-Out. The Debt is ours, all together. There is no Government without Tax. We are the Function. Always have been. Let’s be Radical.
*Subject to amendments ©