Smell

Look.  I know human beings are special.  I know that they think rather than feel.  I just got done with an exchange on Docudharma that was especially frustrating.

But there is feeling, and then there is what’s obvious.  It’s time to start choosing sides, folks.

And I say this for any number of reasons, but it’s in the air.  Can’t you smell it?

I don’t know the far flung future.  But I know what’s coming.  Not Exactly.  I can smell it.  Can’t you smell it?  If you can’t, what’s wrong with you?

I am a logician .. I am an atheist, but I can still SMELL.  I don’t need God or the Universe or the Dali Lama to tell me that humans are not only irrational but bent on their own doom.

Are you a hater?  Then your place is with THEM.  Otherwise, your place is with US.

Feel.  Open your mind, open your heart, feel the world around you.  It is the Afternoon of the World, the World is saying The Hour Is Late.

The Hour Is Late.  The sides are chosen.  These are interesting times.  Apotheosis is coming.  The Dark Man is here, or at least the Hour of His Coming is Approaching.

There was a storm.  A storm that shattered all our windows, in Denver Colorado.  A storm where the hailstones where as big around as my head, uncaring of gravity, shattering down, destroying, blowing shit up.  We hid under the desk, and were exhilarated.

The world of BOOM

And, yes, I’m hungry.  I’m waiting.  Can’t you smell it?  Again, what’s wrong with you?  I’m not supposed to be able to smell this in advance of you folks?  You religious folks?

Where are your senses?  Your vaunted senses?  Is the claim not that you can discern the face of God, while we cannot?

This world is in disrepair.  It is falling apart.  In the words of Yeats, Things fall apart, the center cannot hold.

What do you choose to do with your time?  The time you have left?

Me, for the last five years or so, I have chosen to try to understand the world of machines.  The world of keeping the lights on.  The world of creating a solar power station out of twigs and mirrors.

I have had my hand in other worlds, too.  I have felt the boom of a 9 millimeter pistol.  Yesterday.

I am depressed, but I am as creature of chaos.  I wait for change.  I sniff and wait for a breath, a breath, for the breeze to BLOW.  A hint.  A sign.  I wait for a sign.  It is close, now.  So close.

We wait.  And we are antsy.  We want CHANGE.  We want the wind to BLOW.  We don’t care if things are in disrepair, because the asteroids hold riches beyond the wildest human imagination.  Your negativity, your depression, is neither wanted, nor applicable.  We are eternal.  The spirit of human expansion, ingenuity and drive, is eternal.

And so we wait.  For a sign.  Not a sign from the world.  A sign from other humans.  A sign that we finally, at last, understand that we are brothers and sisters.  That humans are Okay.  A sign that humans understand.  One fist held in another.  We’re the SAME .. eternal.  Unwanted, but applicable.

The Dark One is here.  Chaos approacheth.  Do you care?  Is it right?  Most important of all to me, will you keep me company through it?  Is it acceptable that I want you to be able to have a hot shower?  Or is that too much?  Is all we have left the way of the cave man?

Surely some revelation is at hand;

Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,

Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it

Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again; but now I know

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

A storm is coming.