Greed (kind of)

These are infantile thoughts. Ones I’ve only mused on for a few months to decades. And the act of reducing that were floating notions and almost intangible notions into a concise set of defined categories will surely diminish the value. With that said, if this regarded like the thoughts of reasonably smart and creative person in a half dream state or under the influence of psychedelics or a moderate fever, then from there a more productive conversation might continue.

Also note, I admit that I am afflicted by many of the following.

I’ve categorized four types of Greed. But even that word is wrong and will conjure its own associated notions. So think just of the vibe of Greed. And I’ll try my best to explain the symptoms of these four types.

  1. For Actual or Perceived Self-Preservation

The idea that I would choose to obtain something at the cost of another. This could run the gamut from stealing a loaf of bread to prevent starvation, to purchasing a smart phone (full of all kinds of conflict minerals) to remain competitive in the American social/economic market, to purchasing a car that matches the status of your peers. It is a common impulse true to our animal beings that envelope the very poor to the reasonably rich. And thus the justification on acting on this impulse widely varies. But the root is in self or familial preservation over strangers.

  1. Hoarding; Fear of Later Loss

Maybe part of Self-Preservation. And encouraged by the values of current humanity. It is to collect and save for a rainy day because we live so readily in a state of fear that we will not have “enough” later. And again, there are varying degrees to hoarding from “reasonable” savings, to mass collections. What makes this greed is again, the choice to save versus alleviating the sufferings of others. But again, it is very understandable. As fearful, risk adverse peoples, with little to no community, and an understandable distrust in government and humanity.

  1. For Superiority

Simply the pleasure of having more than others. Typically this is to satiate the cries of a frail ego. To fill the void of a childhood in which one did not feel good enough. They were expected to “succeed” and they continue to try to satisfy the expectations of their parental powers even if those persons are long dead. It is a sad state of affairs that often manifests in “hurt people hurting people.” Sometimes more harmful than others (in how having more is achieved). Sometimes offset by philanthropy and faux (but valuable) altruism. Then they are more woke than others. More giving than others. More generous than others. And that’s not a bad thing. But it is a paradox when their generosity is out weighed by the harms caused by how they gather their means to give.

  1. Deviant Domination or Perverse Power

Making Sexual domination and role play seem like a very wholesome activity (which it is between consenting adults). This form of Greed has nothing to do with Need or the illusion of Need. It is not hoarding. I’m not sure where it comes from. A deep hurting? Or satanic alien beings cultivating and farming the negative emotions of a planet? Petty Immortal Greek Gods in the form of nerdy billionaires? Or just the most messed up INCELs on the planet?

This form of Greed is not only to have more. But to take pleasure in having so very much (all of it, ideally) while simultaneously watching others suffer. Knowing that they could alleviate the pain of others in an instant with no loss to themselves, but edging (yes sexually) and not providing any significant care. It is a perversion equal to the rape of children, or the targeted torture and killing and erasure of whole cultures. It is definitely the most fucked form of Greed.

There are probably other forms. But this is what my wandering mind came up with today.

I’ll go about some Tonglen meditation to attempt to transform Greed, violence, fear, and hate into altruism, peace, compassion, and love. In with the negative. Out with the positive. When looking for the word Tonglen on google I saw a bunch of meditations where they do the opposite. Breath in the positive and exhale the negative. This kind of feels like the greedy waste culture we are already live in. Take what is good, dump out what is bad. But when we breath in the negative and transform it into positivity. It doesn’t leave the waste in us. It truly transforms the negativity. Possibly in the world. Definitely within ourselves.

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“Truth”

Seeker 1: That is it!  Here is the path to truth!
Seeker 2: Really?  How do you know?
Seeker 1: Because I have seen it!  The other side!  I do it this way and again and again I see the other side!*
Seeker 2: So what you see denotes what is?
Seeker 1: Of course!  It is right there!  As clearly as this wall is solid and this apple falls when I drop it!

A bee flies up against a window, desperate to get back outside.  He can see and feel the sun and grass, and he beats his head repeatedly against the pane to make his way through.  Seekers 1 and 2 try to guide him out, but their giant hands are horrific and they only push him towards darkness, wood and metal and not the clear pane that must hold the way out!  If the foolish insect only knew that it was through the dark hallway that there is an open door to the outside.

*science, religion, truth, truth, truth, again and again

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thoughts from the Museum of Jurassic Technology

the impression that, in the age of expansion (1850’s – 1920’s) and the centuries before (17th), that science was inexorably tied to not only a calculated observation with measurements and made up numbers, but with drawing, philosophy, theosophy, architecture, music, and religion.  That those pursuing knowledge looked through the lens of a microscope, into ancient superstition, esoteric and occult traditions, herbalism, wild-crafting, and most importantly their own imaginations.

It was a more obvious creative process, including the scientific one, but not limited in thought (these are my rose colored glasses – of course they were limited by the tools they had grasp of the same as us now); but the rules felt less defined; because of the poor communication, and the isolation, and the madness of the times.  Thus the box wasn’t so tight.  They might be tripping on moldy bread; drilling holes in their heads for words with angels; or simply tripping on their own creative wandering in their untethered minds.

What is the purpose then of climbing mountains? (a leap in inquisition) or making music? writing ideas and stories down? crafting them into prose and poetry? Making and existing in beautiful spaces?  Creating new?

Is it only a serving of inspiration?  An expansion of self through hard work, exposure, and being compelled by one’s own fears?  Why that then?  Changing.  Growing.  Why those then?  And what is this magnetism towards being complacent?  lazy? stagnant? why do I want to freeze moments in time hoping they’ll never change?

“the learner must be led always
from familiar objects towards the unfamiliar,
guided along, as it were
a chain of flowers into the mysteries of life”

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Yesterday I wrote and she wrote and thus we had a fantastic conversation via text

about carrying heavy things, building stone walls, sheering sheep, meteor showers, backpacking, moral codes, empathy, getting jacked,

and then we talked in person

I played the piano and she listened.

I asked her about herself,

she told me,

and I finally worked up the nerve to ask her to cuddle, though she clearly wanted to cuddle (after all she came to sleep on the floor with Torbyn [dog] and myself).

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Are you the sort who arrives at the party(?),

finds the quiet and unseen corner by lilies and still water(?),

befriends all the dogs and none of the people(?),

oh and they have donkeys!!!  Well, I’ll be fine then.

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false prophecy

acquisition of goal does not attain

There is an object sought after.

The ‘hero’ reaches it by sheer power and excellence but cannot obtain it (because of his/her own flawed and purposeless means – aggressive means? maybe? even);

He/She spirals but finds his/her way to self exploration and living ‘pious’ (to his/her defined values).

In so doing he/she happens upon the object again,

this time casually grasping the thing to use for something else entirely – the object is not the purpose at all any longer.  He/She might not even acknowledge that he/she has just used that thing.  That is not important.

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Suffocating Blankets

The suffocating blankets
looming
across an incredible stretch;
as far as far; only
yielding
over some unimaginably distant world with a break

bathing
gold and gleam
touching down to some young things eyes
and subsequent heart.

Then
these bags that sag, these full
grapes eager to burst in their ripe and
overloaded – unattended spitting
boils – rolling.

Then
the ones who crawl: ten thousand
fingered giants,
pawing up peaks and into the invisible,
to join their
top toppling,
chest swelling brothers.
Bastards.

My favorite:
smooth
and oval
and layered.
Well that’s how they come across,
to our blind eyes.
They’re in that invisible as much as the obvious,
only uncloaked by the sudden cooling
over high places.
Look at their coming and going;
you see that(?)
feeding in
and out(?):
a stream filling
and emptying:
this alpine lake./?

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Idiot

“If she only knew about me: been on the mountains I’ve climbed, read the stories I’ve written, heard the music I composed, seen the shows I’ve played, experienced the parties/ritual happenings I’ve hosted, felt the rocks I’ve carried, watched the space I’ve bent, explored the dreams I’ve dreamt, spoke with the animals I’ve befriended…  If she only knew. ”

but she doesn’t and she probably doesn’t care to at all.

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Missed

Are persons ever “called” and they do not respond?  I mean quite literally. The message is sent – and they ignore the magical invitation.

These are the unglamorous moments left out from the histories of the secret societies.

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11.4.15

Autumn is finally upon us.  Rains; lightning even

It seems like such a distance and trial to get away and into quiet, into the ‘primitive’ and natural world.  But it is not far.  Forest and mountains without people or reception are very close.  Even still, that can feel like part of our “busy, busy”, and not a place ‘away’.  I suffer from objectives (agendas) – maybe, or perhaps just those time restrictions, and that there is something pressing to return to.  Maybe ‘away’ is much much closer.

Turn off the phone.

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