10 March 2008

In that land of sleeping

Between the waking and the dreaming stand I, the single one unmet where it is neither light nor dark. A strange land of untwisting dreams that never come and of straight waking that never fully yields. Step there is simple and yet takes one to places not of dream or waking land beyond our normal possibilities of dream. When taking it step by step away from this which is our home one finds the worlds of what might have been, those worlds that sit with ours and yet can never be reached by normal means.

It is not a good land to see these places and what is striking is the golden life of where I come from and the barrenness that surrounds that line make it ever brighter. Step and step and step is tiring in its own way and when awakened the slide is not the ending of dream but liquid vision of what might have been. This our lucky home by circumstance sits amidst the failed dreams of those who may have been like us, yet they each and every one for world upon world had failed in their making of their dreams.

Although the barrier of waking and dreaming does not permit the foreigner to see directly, the senses still pick up the shadow feeling of outline and circumstance. Well said, it was, that our time is one quite precious as the punishment for mistakes or missteps during times of brutal frozen conflict were extreme and sudden. These worlds, next door to ours, is where we had failed or our fathers or grand fathers or forefathers, each had created something that held deep within a final trouble that ended not just their dream but their world entire.

Some of those lands have frigid feel, of a scorched earth that had made their world suddenly go chill and done so recently through accident or blinded design. While man is not gone his very survival is not assured this time as, like times past, the changes coupled with sudden loss puts these other world people to the brink of ending along with many another life upon what was once a life supporting home. In snuffing out civilization the world now seeks to snuff them out entire, with reason and thought deemed a failure in survival.

Other worlds have the same feel of warm and balmy clime that had, like its icy brethren, reached deeply into what once had been thriving civilization and had now turned into tumbled, blasted ruin. These worlds hold better hope for man, yet the numbers are so few and what in our world is a teeming throng passing from waking to dreaming is, there, a lightly scattered crowd. Life itself is not under threat, but the balance of survival pits the once ill-ready against savage nature and only there can forethought prevail, even as it loses the underpinnings of creating common protection as the evil that brought them there is shunned.

Then there are the very few, very scattered worlds that still hold teeming masses, but they live in a wasteland of their own design, giving spirit up to rulers so that decisions and living is taken from their hands. These lands of broken promises and promises over fulfilled are, in many ways, worse than those others as their ends are understandable. While many upon many pass from waking mien to dreaming, there is a sameness on both sides of that veil as they have committed themselves to no dream worth attaining and have no waking life of meaning. In these lands adjacent to these worlds, the impression of the end of man is better transmitted as those thinking minds have given in to having no spirit and they communicate that in their fleeting moments in that nether land in which I dwell.

Here is the land of dream escaped into the waking world, and each one carries different names but they are the aspects of a single, deadly dream. That is the dream of controlling one's fellow man so as to make a better world or to stand with a homeland forever, just so long as one does not say 'nay'. Also is the great dream of Empire holding sway and impoverishing the life of humanity yet again as the great dream brooks no opposition and has final power with those that hold it closely.

Within such worlds as these there is also the dream of accommodating the beast of control, giving it more and more and more until there is nothing left to give save life... which had been its aim all along.

Some of these lands come through valor and victory and find themselves in the ashes of dream fulfilled. By chaining will to others they had not foreseen that they would have no will left nor say in their final outcomes as all was taken from them and crushing power ground the meaning of their lives into the ashes of victory.

Those that had brokered with their inner demons found that those demons through shells of imperfect man had thought that having lesser evil would halt the spread of evil but, instead, found lesser evil taking them to pave the way for greater as they no longer could distinguish between the good and the evil.

It is these last worlds that give most trouble as I wake into the storm of our discontent, with democracy failing us all around. By no longer drawing distinctions and being told that doing so was 'bad' we have, instead, permitted darkness to walk our lands to berate us in our never being dark enough to suit it. By watering down our thoughts and beliefs, we gain castigation for not submitting to further watering still, and try to bargain with the dark creature of dreaming land walking in our waking realm. Whenever you hear that lesser evil is still better than greater, the lack of understanding is that evil is given face and voice to walk our bright lands and put all we had dreamed of at peril.

That storm has come and our ability to distinguish between evils is now taken to be far better than distinguishing between the good and the evil. The echoes of not being enough like those that have taken greater evil to heart and that is somehow bad which we must amend. Just give up dream of leading one's life, of following one's spirit and of doing good by doing well so that all your toil goes to commonness and the uncommon is despised as evil, when it has created so much good for all. That most twisted dream now warps our very lives so that we start to become like the worlds of dead human spirit.

Their planets may flourish with life, but they hold no meaning, when those great dreams walk the waking world and will not be put aside nor attacked any more. And of the worst thing of those other worlds seen only from that land of unwaking and undreaming is that these fetters given to others was done voluntarily to finally submit to the control of those dreams, and for the great mass of humanity to be enslaved by it. These dreams spoke falsely in their desire for that end, and twisted every good of charity and desire to ensure one's fellow man did well to the iron rod of forcing all to submit to common will.

The poison of those dreams came cloaked in sugar so that it would be readily and quickly swallowed and then, only as one went through the box of sweets with deadly poison, did one realize that a deadly dose had been administered. The sweetest words of beneficence in the hands of harsh punisher means deadlier punishment still, as it mouths the words but seeks its vile ends of extinguishing all good within each and every one of us.

We hear its words daily.

"He, at least, is not as bad as the others, so rally to our flag of not so evil!"

"They will not give more to make everyone well, so take it from them for that good end!"

"Those that have failed in life do not need a hand up to better and meaningful life, keep them in their poverty of failure and give up your good earnings for that!"

"You are bad not to commit to the lofty ideals of control that others have taken, you must take them up yourself."

"The children need our protection and, you know, it took a village to do that, but we have given up the spirit of village so just hand over the power to your betters."

"He is not good, but rally to the party as it is not as evil as the other one!"

"One man's dream can chain you and you will love it, yes you will!"

"These chains were made by reaching across the aisle, and they are so good for having been made from lesser and greater evil, aren't they?"

"Let me rule to abolish your wealth as you are too unwise to spend it right, and I will never need to reveal my wealth as it is above reproach."

One reason I find it hard to distinguish between the dreaming and waking worlds is that we have decided that nightmares are fit for our waking land and have unleashed them to work their will upon our frail spirits.

I am not moved to join the rallying around the flag of lesser evil, for some strange reason.

For they have joined the army of evil entire and now willingly march against the good.

Many do not feel this storm, so used to twisted thought and outlook they have become inured to lashes of their evil ways.

When you find that your best choices are between lesser evils, then it is time to admit failure and attack *both* so as to protect the good.

Untwisting the edifice of evil that has warped our dreams and souls is hard work and start one must admit that they have failed in their outlook and that the current dream has been hijacked by nightmare.

In being quiet one acquiesces to that evil.

In doing nothing one helps that evil.

And in attacking those that point out the evil ways being inflicted upon us, you give the direct voice to those dark dreams of power, control and enslavement.

It goes by ancient name, that dream of many aspects.

But its worse is called Empire.

It is the enemy of liberty.

My enemy.

And yours if you can still recognize it.


cold pizza said...

Which is worse? Partaking and participating in the death spiral of Western Civ in the forlorn hopes of slowing the slide before the final descent into chaos or finding a position in the strong, secure place where the effects of the collapse can be contained, if only in a small locality?

Ejectia as a concept is all well and good, as is the concept of the remnant. I have found the community in which, should Pax Vespuccia fails and sans the "On The Beach" scenario, safety and security will most likely still be assured for kith and kin.

Abiding. Watching. A free man, standing between loved home and war's desolation.

Truly, the sleeping denizens of this fair country deserve the folly they are bringing upon themselves, lulled into complacency, feasting on lotus.

History cycles. Human nature is, at heart, selfish. Abandon Hobbes, all ye that enter here.

Were I not where I am, I would surely despair. But our ratio of sheepdogs to sheep is exceedingly high and there are very few wolves openly among us now, and little tolerance for pandering and hijinks. Yes, we're all mostly half-asleep, but this is a community that has roused and rallied in the past when existential threats appear overtly. They have their fair share of honored dead.

May we all survive these interesting times. -cp

A Jacksonian said...

There are indeed places where community can still be held and my time near the seat of power is drawing to a close and it is coming time to flee it. Our Private Enemies have ensured the last two Presidents had nasty test soon after taking office, and the next one will get just the same. And as the last two got worse, I doubt the next will be better and our enemy does not stop at a goal with single hit.

While living in the land of no color, and no light nor dark, I see the value of what we have tried to do and it is worth supporting even if those around fail it. When you see the trends, do the analysis and find ourselves in the rut that led to previous disaster marched to willingly, then it is time to go.

To those who wish power over one not fully awake nor in dreaming I will give the Prisoner's reply:

I will not be pushed,
or numbered...
my life is my own.

That I shall not give up.