Fractals

Think about colds and viruses and disease. There are mini wars taking place all over our bodies. And within those conflicts are cell structures who's molecules are also engaged in their own mini wars, and those embedded mini wars can reach possibly into infinity. Perhaps eventually it forms a loop and we find ourselves back at the realm of macro wars among men.

There's always been a fight between good and evil. But good and evil aren't necessarily good man versus evil man. This is a notion whose logical form can be traced back to the beginning of time. There is a universal struggle for life but within that struggle lies differing methodologies as to how survival can actually be attained.

Some methodologies aim for all life to benefit in the struggle for survival. There are also other methodologies that pursue blind selfish ends and seek to live whatever the cost of surrounding life. This is the evil. I think...

This is how a serial killer can envision murder as an art form. The act of surviving by killing. Anti-life has been given meaning and purpose. Something to be attained.

This is how a corporation can endeavor to live, live, live by accumulating the life force out of everything it comes across until there is nothing left outside of itself.

The good is what a surviving entity that possesses power experiences. The evil is what the disenfranchised, the vacant, the declining towards death experience...

And so on into infinity.

That Habit

Buzz writing again. "So what?", or whatever they say in defense when they are questioned. There's a pretty big fly in the room right now. Flying around. He's smug over the fact that I refuse to hurt him.

I sat on the roof this evening with my brother and watched the sunset. I find sunsets more beautiful than fire. This is cliche, I know. Everyone loves sunsets. But I fancy that I love sunsets just a little more than everyone else (this is of course followed by a wink).

Sure fires are mesmerizing. They burn. They are passion, incredible physical violence, bursting with a thirst for life before they extinguish. They flicker, dance, and hiss.

But It is the complexity and subtlety of the sunset that I love...the spectrum of colors that show themselves. Sunsets tell a story before they depart quietly into the deep dark blue. They paint themselves on billowing clouds and express themselves in an unfolding symphony of color. They melt the horizon with their blazing oranges and then cool to their reds and purples. They leave that melancholy white afterglow that silhouettes the tremulant black shadows of treetops. There is a rise and fall. Every stage has its own elegance.

The climb to the roof was precarious, even more so after having a drink or two. When you are buzzed you do things for the sake of doing them. You say live first, think later. Death whispers but you ignore it. Obliteration seems forgiving at a time when it is hard to decide what to live for. This might be overly pessimistic though. There are many things to live for. It is hard to think objectively when you are buzzed. Your thoughts simply lurch forward as your body does when you move.

But this lurching motion can be beautiful in itself. My writing flows more free when it lurches, so does my guitar playing. Art begs the agent to simply give in to his or her impulses and lurch. Reach into the dark and simply be. I've jammed in the dark before and it has had favorable results. Think after the fact. Rationalize after things have happened. If you think while you move you forget how to move and you stumble. So I've found in experience.

I've wondered if we still aren't simply creatures of impulse with the added benefit of being able to rationalize our actions. But I think there's more to it than that.

I must confess I dislike my brother's girlfriend simply because she's dumb. This rends my heart because she's a human being and deserves a chance like everyone in this world. I do have a prejudice for the dumb. I can say I love sheep, but I can't seem to look past the dumb human. Maybe I hold a subconscious conviction that humans should know better than to be dumb, but this simply isn't the case, because many don't know better. They simply live. Forgive them for their dullness. I pride myself for my open mind but sometimes it quivers shut like some ocean floor shellfish. Forgive me for this.

Right, right, onward though.

America

I am a cell on the tip of the finger that's pulling the trigger of a gun.