Bless the goddesses
Who hear our cries of longing
And respond with love
[ americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan ]
A hundred thousand ethnic restaurants open, not one of them selling authentic cuisine.
A million women dress, not one of them choosing clothes she herself likes. An equal number of men dress in garments that, deep down, they know make them look like fools.
A million swelling hopes flare, not one of them destined to see the next morning’s sunrise.
Ten thousand false promises are made, and broken.
A thousand and one young children cry upon being tricked by an older person.
A single soul retreats into the swirling eddies of inner solitude, prompting a long-dormant goddess to stir, awakening the owl resting beside her.
From her breastplate scowls a terrible gorgon.
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorpha
dreamstate writing 3 Mar 2017
In this morning’s dream, I was walking around outside (in an overgrown lot) looking for a place to bed down for the night. There was little ambient light, the sky above me a gray blanket trimmed with the rosy promise of dawn. Rounding the side of a one-storey brick building, I started to make my way through the trees and bushes that grew beside and behind it. Treading carefully so as not to alert the people living nearby to my presence (taller brick structures stood beyond a chainlink fence on a rise above the first building), I made noise nonetheless, the underbrush below my feet crackling loudly. On my way to the rear of the building I passed two makeshift blinds, one a flimsy construction of bent cardboard, the other a sturdier model made from a metal framework and some type of plastic cloth. Behind each blind was a pillow and a worn-down area where someone seemed to have slept recently.
Security lights turned on, illuminating the area brilliantly, and I became aware of the presence of what looked like many cameras watching, unblinking eyes that tracked my every move. I attempted to lay down in an effort to avoid their gaze, but a thin beam of piercing white light shot through the chainlink fence, thwarting my every effort to escape it.
Time passed, for the sky had lightened considerably. I was standing in front of the one-storey building speaking to its proprietress. She had dark hair, an attractive face, and the type of exaggeratedly-proportioned body normally found on girl’s fashion dolls. Apparently, this woman realized I found her attractive, for she turned to one side to show me her large breasts and slender waist. Then, a different woman - this one with blond hair tucked into a tattered baseball cap and wearing a bulky coat - walked out from behind my field of vision to enter the brick building, a basket of what looked like soiled clothing in her arms. I then examined the structure in front of me more closely and discovered it was a laundry-mat of sorts. The last thing I remember before waking up was that all of its washers appeared to be running at full blast.
Huzzah, mahalo, and om swastiastu.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
For the past couple of weeks I have been exploring and tasting and trying to better understand the stories I tell myself, the logic-parameters within which I go about my daily business. Many of these logic parameters I set up around the age of five years old, in the wake of a sexual assault visited upon me by a shady, rapist neighbor. I was groped and abused then told to never tell anyone, on pain of death. Around the same time (because he apparently didn’t know, or bother to try and find out, how else to deal with the changes in my behavior) my father became psychologically abusive toward me. I was doing poorly in school; I had become overly sensitive to external stimuli (especially deep-voiced men); I was having trouble concentrating in general; and it seems that he thought that by being mean and spiteful toward me he could snap me out of it and somehow fix me. Now, almost 35 years later, I am still trying to fit the pieces of my psyche back together in the aftermath of the Big Shatter - being fed the Fruit of Forbidden Knowledge at too young an age. I gained from these traumatic childhood experiences a number of things, among them a strong empathy toward and desire to protect individuals downtrodden and weak; a nearly photographic memory of conversations and situations; a passionate dislike for and lack of fear of authority figures; the ability to make small children smile, and feel safe; the ability to detect - with a glance - sexual perversion in adult males; the ability to see beyond what the eye can usually see (such as where energies within the body are not flowing smoothly) that borders on the power to read minds. These abilities are of course counter-balanced by appropriate and equal disabilities, most of them existing in the form of the logical parameters I use to interact with the world - especially with women whom I find attractive. I have given myself until the rising of the next full moon on 14 November 2016 to explore and taste of these logical parameters so that I may start to heal myself more fully, and would like to profess my utter thanks and profound gratitude to the Lunar Goddesses of the Many Faiths who have watched over and sheltered me along this path. Mahalo, and om swastiastu.
© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥
The founders of America were influenced primarily by two religions: Christianity and Hellenistic polytheism (see here). Our halls of government are festooned with plaques referencing the Christian texts (see here); let those same halls ring with praises for the people of this land who display the virtues of those gods that filled the minds of Thomas Jefferson and his ilk. In the Christian tradition, achievements made by non-Christians are often ignored, trodden down by praises sung to individuals who sacrificed solely for the cause of that religion, individuals who labored for what is seen by that religion as positive change. The ancient Greeks, however, understood the importance of balance and were less partial to positivity – indeed, they often preferred waiting to see how the chips would fall to the practice of judging actions based solely on how they helped to expand the scope of a particular faith. In the ancient Greek world, men who in battle displayed the guile, the craftiness, the ferocity, or the cunning of goddess Athena were said to be the embodiment of that god, to be filled with her spirit. Great fashion designers were hailed as exhibiting the virtues of Arachne, the goddess of the seamstress, while skilled orators were said to be filled with the essence of Hermes, the god of public speaking.
I hereby propose the creation of a group to determine, via a thorough and national vetting process, those Americans who in our times are most filled with the spirit of the Greek gods who so significantly influenced the founders of this nation. Great generals will receive the Laurel of the Owl and Shield for displaying heroic endeavor and cunning battle strategy, characteristics of goddess Athena. Great poets and authors will receive the Laurel of the Arrow and Lyre for displaying the poetry and truthfulness attributed to god Apollo. Great diplomats and merchants will receive the Laurel of the Winged Boot for exhibiting the diplomacy and cunning wiles attributed to god Hermes. Great societal disruptors and street artists will receive the Laurel of Helm and Spear for their civil disorder and manly courage, attributes they share with god Ares. Many other gods exist in the Olympian pantheon, and many more Laurels will be issued. The awards will be distributed in recognition of achievements that in significant and measurable ways affect the course of the nation, be they the actions of a spray-painting mad genius or the destruction of a Taliban outpost by special forces operatives dodging bullets in the torn landscape of Helmland province.
The concept of the Laurel of Godlike American Achievement will celebrate people from all castes, all groups, all races, and all religions. It will allow us to select from within our midst those individuals who exhibit the virtues we hold most dear, such as inventiveness, risk-taking, motherhood, and skateboarding where skateboarding is prohibited. It will whip the masses into a great churning froth of Happiness by giving them something to which to aspire, such as vast knowledge of the woodland arts (Artemis), skill in metalworking and sculpture (Hephaestus), and zeal in celebrating eternal youth (Dionysus), aspirations other than those based purely on the accumulation of capital or on the ability to repeat the same religious mantras for years on end. Your suggestions are welcome; your readership is appreciated; your hope springs eternal.
mentiri factorem fecit – 場黑麥
blog updated thrice weekly
Among other things I am barber, bicyclist, surfer, vagabond, writer, and yogi.