New Age Wasteland, Pt. I
Life is a paradoxical state of mind— A state, in which, one can simultaneously
experience a sense of inner-connectedness and communion with others, while also,
experiencing a sense of solitude through the natural separation of matter into specific physical forms. By recognizing our duality within our multiplicity, we establish a
society of consciously-connected human beings, who are aware of their power and
Why do I accept mediocrity when I could have boundless happiness?
Flowing forth from all mediums of aesthetic self-expression, art creates infinite
methods of learning about one’s self. Through the proper channeling and usage of our unique and divine experience, humans can bridge the gap of misunderstanding that lies between one’s earth-bound ego and one’s everlasting soul. By learning about ourselves through art, we detach from the correlated perspective at hand and create a sense of
dualism from the vantage point of singularity; this allows space for humanity to
question our opinion of what defines a living, breathing, active society; for me, it’s a society that encourages the honest vocalization of each person’s inner truth, as well as, the practice and creation of new sacred traditions through actions, words, and shared
interpretation. Through the symmetry in the mirror to the contrast in a view, seeing our differences as our likenesses brings about a relative thought—
And now, the rant :
Some of humanity’s current truths may be hard to confront, but this is why we, as a people, must look at both our shared fears and our personal fears.
We must redefine our concept of words and communication at large, for words are the coordinators of symbolistic (symbolic) expression and vice versa; therefore, when
studying historical specifics, the crux of seeing our current events as a reflection of our actions becomes a pivotal point of observation.
At which point does an idea begin to crumble: when an initial fear or threat is
discovered, or when the laziness sets in?
Furthermore, what is laziness, but a broad term used to blanket our doubt?
During a time characterized by the worldwide ability to constantly communicate with one another at any hour of the day, we must question the actual status and appearance of humankind’s ever-shared
and ever-changing reality.
Through identification and personalization of our dreams, breakthroughs, and habits, we can root the ideas that serve us, while also, ridding ourselves of those ideas that do not serve us any longer.
To see ourselves home and rediscover our faithful footsteps, we must accept all of our reflections— [as we manifest ourselves into the flow of daily patterns connecting the reality of our lives]. Drawing forth from our understanding of reason and rationality, these observed patterns require a consistent (constant) source of mental, physical, and spiritual energy in order to remain in the realm of existence.
Through our physical bodies, we can choose to live for joy or to live for fear;
as a mode of evolutionary transition and development, we must learn to identify,
but not judge, the inner voice of each moment. We must tune our ears to hear our deepest rhythm— the rhythm that fills every single moment, echoing sweet divinity through the perfectly detailed adjustment and on-going maintenance present in the
inevitably – changing face of now.
If we can agree that our overall perception of reality pulses with change,
yet still seems to remain stagnant— We can learn to identify the differences in an
experience that causes our minds to label our existence as life vs. strife. Tracing our emotional memory back to its source, we can move closer into healing the cause of a mistake, instead of attempting to heal its symptoms.
May my mistakes forever fill me full of life and reveal the parallel between
patterns vs. trends.
And now, I wonder how one puts theory into action?
In other words, what drives me?
[Diving deeper, what dreams me?]
In search of the truest vine of my soul, I dedicate this waking life to following my dreams—
but I have a lot of dreams…
So, in-order to fully grasp my soul’s sole purpose, I break down the shapes of my thoughts, visions, and inspirations. By facing how I feel mentally, physically, and
spiritually, I catch onto the emotional patterns of my personality—
a find of what pulls the heart.
To be, or not to be the whole that is myself? To be a conscious human-being:
who chooses to walk the path of (righteous, radical, and personal) self-expression,
who chooses to reside in the presence of now—
To be a living and breathing character of the book of life.
I began finding the scattered pieces of myself,
once I allowed myself to be found.
I had been wading in the comfort of my past. Knee-deep in anxiety with a head-full of far-out ideas, when I realized that the comfort I thought I had been feeling was not comfort, it was paralysis.
On the outskirts of social normality, about 11 blocks South of Main Street, I met
weirdness in the form of the good ‘ole grateful counterculture. Specifically drawn to the peace-packed hippy movement of the 1960’s, I read about, and I felt about: racial justice, political justice, and the justice of good vibes— that seemed to be right around any corner.
However, let us look at where our species wades now.
Under the weight of unnecessary, unexplained, and unceasing times of war, some may forget to ask, “Where is the world peace?”
So, I will speak for crowd and ask, “Where is the world peace,
and why can’t we share it with one another?”
I want an actual answer, not this over-cooked gumbo of shits and giggles, served with a side of bread and circuses. I want an answer. I want a debate. I want to live in a world that does not allow its inhabitants to murder each other over oil and opium. Playing the great game of tug o’ war over the ego waffles of their balanced breakfasts—
leggo my ego [*check if ‘leggo’ is TM] . Yeah, shit really escalates quickly—
when a writer starts thinking… or stops.
Damn, beats me.
Oh, and of course, there is democracy, the bread and butter of the West… Well, look,
I’m not Hunter S.— Yes, but my penny for a thought gives everyone this proposition:
Why do we support the current war? What war?
Are we that scared of communicating? Am I?
Are we really too scared to sit down in a room, hire some translators,
and discuss the validity of any reason to this negative rhyme? Huh?
Stand up for peace, or don’t… I will regardless. I will gladly stand, sit, pace around, and listen to anyone who thinks they have an argument that justifies the use of violence to gain power. I will sit and objectively listen to all who wish to continue living in this age of fear, but I don’t think the debate would get anywhere. We would see the
stupidity in our passive decisions and agree to never act so silly again.
On the bright side, it makes me happy to see so many people contributing and working to regenerate the current definition of sustainable permanence. Through starting
conversations about the nature of true cultural growth, we can begin to ripple out in hopes our generation will put down the phone, pick up a pencil, and start writing our own history, a history of the cultivation of communication
[and how all these different routes of communication have the potential to
further cultivate our society or destroy it].
Throughout the entire globe, the question facing our current civilization is not,
“When will we find the right leader?”, it is,
“When will we become our own leaders?”
It is easy to plant seeds— It is easy to share our opinions, post tweets about
#worldpeace, and lounge in the security of living in a society that makes all of our
decisions for us.
The hard part is taking responsibility for the seeds you don’t water.
We shall continue moving forward,
while still keeping our previously planted seeds in mind—
Trusting our soul’s intuition to grow in the directions that call to our hearts—
The directions that walk us home.
An abstract of sorts:
New Age Wasteland (Productions) is an all-inclusive, all-immersive, aesthetic alliance of alternative artistic expression. Positively, founded on the beauty of essence and the essence of truth. It is a collective of voices, reflecting art back onto itself.
Branding together in shared reason, shall we stand up for our public airwaves?
So, we question:
How can we level the worldwide economic playing field?
How can we view our own self-worth as more valuable than money?
Together could we create art: music, television shows, films, novels, etc. that serve a larger purpose and a larger population? Could society use (artistic) self-expression to surpass all false misconceptions? Could we collectively create a consciousness that values worth over wealth and character over class?
New Age Wasteland is an agreement to aim past your tide’s reach.
Envisioning the tide of the 1960’s, we see the dream of a classless counterculture
remains, for it’s a hand-me-down; (scattered, but not lost)— And as we search to find the high-water mark, where the thoughts finally broke and rolled back, we will find that peace had been waiting, patiently, inside the right kind of eyes. Through the power of
performance art and the presence of written work, I want to discuss and share my
experience of existence thus far. I am living for joy. I am living for peace.
The Mission: turning inner-knowing into outer-creation
— to take care of the plants we hoped would sprout from the dust, pushing light-bound stems through the pavement, or to keep feeding our endless infatuation with that which disrupts and decays? To have peace or to have war? To remain in arrogance and
ignorance, or to schedule a meeting to discuss the possibility of setting a date, in-which, all humanity can agree to let one another be, peacefully? However, what is there really to agree on? What isn’t there to agree on? Should we begin to reclaim the
freedom we have never truly known? Or shall we continue to avoid all topics of
importance? Where can we start to do something? Is there even anything to do—
Will we even try? Will we even take the time to finish reading this comment? …
When will we realize that we have been treating green lights like they are yellow,
turning yield signs into ones that make us stop— because we all make our own
excuses, but when will we, when will I, realize that even escape is an illusion? Trying to avoid me, myself, is to be childish— It makes me like Wile E. Coyote chasing the Road Runner, failing day in and day out. Never re-examining my methods, never trying something new— always succumbing to conflict, using those cute-little cartoon ACME explosives, missiles, and weapons—You know, the one’s that never work correctly. Those factory-faulty weapons that keep Wile E. Coyote in a constant chase, because either the coyote cannot figure out how to properly use the weapon,
or because that is the nature of ACME’s ethic:
to always keep the consumer in a state of consumption?
I have always wondered why the coyote even wanted to blow up the Road Runner,
because, if the Road Runner was dead, then Wile E. Coyote would have no show left;
the network would drop him. There would be no conflict to watch—
—this is true— Also, if he would have caught up the Road Runner, only to find out, ‘he’s kinda cool, I think we could be friends.’ The humor would be lost. However,
children’s cartoons point out how using violence and picking fights (with people you do not know and who are different than you are) is a never-ending battle. Like Wile E. Coyote, have we locked ourselves into a routine of confusing the attempted solution with the actual problem?
It is 2017, so I hear, and our civilization’s ability to communicate with anyone, in
anyplace, at anytime is at an all time high. The idea that our technological inventions have, apparently, superseded our ‘oh, so simple, cute little human brains’— is a lie; it is
entirely false. We have just chosen to not use our rational thinking, nor use our heart.
I am typing on a laptop right now— Think of how difficult it must have been to figure out how to put these little parts of parts of parts together, in-order to mold energy into form. It must have been more difficult than being a rocket-scientist performing brain surgery, and I know there are more comprehensive technological inventions out there, but that is my point.
What I am trying to say is, APPARENTLY, humans are smart as fuck. We can create things that, at one time, seemed impossible, yet, the only thing that no leader, no
president, no corporation, no institution, and no person has been capable of creating is world peace on Earth. There must be something more to it, because it seems so simple.
Desiring peace, seeking balance, nourishing one’s hope and not one’s despair—
seems as innate and natural as breathing.
So, let’s breathe, and let’s chill out, before we spend all our money buying ACME products, only to come to see that we are fighting our own selves.
I will forever remember the 21st century as the era that we finally ended war.
The war on the war of the warring war on (insert catchy, provoking, distracting issue here). Critics are calling it the biggest prank of all time. See the movie everyone is
trying not to talk about, a tale of misguided passion and disillusion. The Summer’s most hilarious psychological thriller, winner of the “We the People, By the People” Award. This Summer, come see the movie that will have you wondering, “Is this a true story?”— The War on War: Revenge of the Absent— the sequel to last year’s
groundbreaking movie, “The War on Debt: To Be the Silent Killer.” Coming soon to a theater near you. In other news, Hurricane Hurrytabuymore is approaching slowly, but surely, we are advising all viewers to prepare for an emergency situation. Prepare for looting, especially in neighborhoods that are more prone to being flooded by looters due to their location. You can find a link on our website to a “Minority-proximity
calculator” — see how close to these high-risk areas you and your family are. Thanks for joining See-B.S. nightly noose, I’m Ashton Kutcher, stay punk’d America!
WE INTERRUPT THIS IMPORTANT PROGRAMMING SESSION
to test the disaster-delagating-disease and de-evolvement dollar menu special.
In other news: according to Dignifing-Diversity-Daily’s latest December digest, ducks have stopped quacking this season— for fear of losing bread. Leader of local pond, Duck McFuckMe, has denounced himself a Dadaist, saying, “Dozens of disorientated daughters are disguised and done.” Done dutifully in downtime, we all have to agree, here down at the station while digesting these double-double decker domesticated
dingos during darkly dank destines of dying dreams— has been found to cause death and doting, donning, and dilation of the liver.
In sports, Wookies, also known as Couch-walkers, have announced they’ve retired.
Apparently, once done downstairs, the Dead Heads destroyed the depth of infinite doors by downing downers whilst down around the dungeon. Boldy, 99% are said to be free of distinct and darkened doings, yet characterized by mood swings of
de&reprogrammed-demons-in-dependence of decent and
dictating-devilish-deplorements. It’s deadening-degraded and now dehumanizing the American people’s dinner tables. ATTENTION ! We have just gotten word that
today’s Chief Weatherman has called in the directions sick. So, that’s it for us here,
because I am too white to give a damn about climate change.
Keep watching Fear & Groaning Channel 11 News—
drugging you up with discounted, damnanizing drama, that is guaranteed to conjure up even the lowest of spirits. Rinse, lather, and repeat. Take 1 pill in the morning with a complete balanced breakfast.
[click here to see the 7 must-have accessories this season. It’s autumn— are you ready for THE fall?]