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A long time coming January 29, 2006

Posted by Matt Hurst in Uncategorized.

“It’s been a long time comin’, my dear It’s been a long time comin’ but now it’s

Looking down that winding road, kneeling on the shoulder with pited gravel and glass bottles grinding into my knees, I can see the crest of a dawn instead of sunset. I’ve been out on research work comrades, and I can say that a diamond takes pressure to form from the most basic of life elements.
Whilst those of you have been hollering like bats on a rampage, in shock that your government might spy on you without warrant, us of the paranoid disposition couldn’t help but laugh. There wasn’t much point in running through the “i told you so” dialog, but the proof was starring in front of you all along. After all, if you could detain a US citizen without so much as a charge for an indefinite amount of time, any information leading to that detention would be unwarrented by lack of evidence. Say what you will about the need to protect Americans from terrorist attack, but don’t forget the constitutional protections of Americans from their own tyrants. An empire may otherwise grow drunk with power.
Sobriety will make a man do much stranger things than innebriation. Sure strong drink can provide an social outlet for all kinds of belligerant behavior, but in sobriety one can take on tasks unfathomed by the sated drunkard. Few of them are fruitful, most of them wistful, and none of the effort bringing much happiness (except for me). An intoxicated person knows the source of their delusions, but the sober sort has trouble distinguishing the delusions from reality. There is little more left to explain the endless persuit of mamon through a collective dream whose opportunity ran out years earlier. Without this collective mirage, no person would work day in and out, and then fasitiously claim that they are happy.
It’s no wonder the huddled masses need a strong drink at the end of the day, internalizing their wage-slavery into repressed anxiety that keeps them in their positions. Any effort that ought to be actualised following termination of their employment is met by a continued call to conform further. They muse that it was their deviation that laid them off, rather than face the reality of a systemic retooling that is necessary. The masses bring home a paycheck, or cash their stock returns, or desposit their tips into bank accounts. But at the end of the day you can’t take it with you.
The material illusion holds us closer, as do the effects of alcoholic beverages, to ourselves without recognition of greater calling. Our persuit of the mirage leaves us dried out in the desert where nomads dwell. Yet those nomads come and go as they please, with little concern and great abundance. They have realised the happiness of absurdity, and laugh much harder for the souls who persue normalcy. The nomads recognize an opportunity in each day, and the impossibility of futile efforts. The primary difference being the possibilites are seen as absurd by that businesman, suffocating on sand caking his tongue and choked by his collar in the burgeoning sun. Is it a paradox that when the nomad comes through town he is more at home than the banker?
Security is a contradiction, so listen not when your friends applaud the efforts that tire you and bing no satisfaction. Another way is possible, so when others tell you to focus they mean to reestablish your priorities. There is no point in making priorities for others where it causes needless harm. Take down your hostile and maliscious arms, and embrace your own again; it is the truest peace (of mind).



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