Big Pharma embodies the notion that multi-national corporations are adversarial to Humans. Here is an excerpt from Jon Rappaport’s blog:
“In 1992, I was deeply engaged in researching the specific devastating effects of medical drugs. Eventually, I concluded that, at the highest levels of power, these drugs weren’t destructive by accident. They were intended to cause harm. This was covert chemical warfare against the population of the planet. The Rockefeller-Standard Oil-Farben connection was a primary piece of the puzzle.
It was, of course, Rockefeller (and Carnegie) power that had forced the birth of pharmaceutical medicine in America, with the publication of the 1910 Flexner Report. The Report was used to excoriate and marginalize Chiropractic, Homeopathy, Naturopathy, and other forms of traditional natural practice, in favor of what would become the modern juggernaut of drug-based treatment.”
When we are children the adult world is like an ill-fitting jacket; everything around you was made by someone who was born a generation or more earlier. Their aesthetics, and the configuration of the slow planets at their birth, differ from those at your birth.
Gradually this changes. First is the experience of spending more and more time with your peers, and then your generation enters the workforce. By the time we experience our mid-30s through mid-40s, most that is new in the world has been designed by our peers. From appliances to cars, stereo buttons, app design and even philosophy, the aesthetics of the slow planets governing you and your peers birth become a driving and dominant force in the world.
Then, just as slowly as this dominance developed, it begins to erode. By age 60 nearly all that is new is created by people a generation younger than you. The world is once again an ill-fitting jacket, and becomes more so with advancing age, until finally, at death, the world is so poorly fitting we can’t persist in it a moment longer.
While I am convinced that the true nature of our predicament will be surprising, even baroque, should we learn it, and therefore all speculation is moot, the views in circulation are so terribly wrong I feel compelled to spell out a few more likely scenarios:
One: The progenitor is a gangster god and treats this universe as its private casino in order to experience the upside of duality without the downside. The denizens of this universe suffer exactly as casino-goers suffer and with a similar elan.
Two: Consciousness is a parasitic virus and is running its course.
Three: Conscious entities have so thoroughly plumbed creative opportunities that they seek increasingly arcane venues for the novelties offered. Think of our lifetime here as a ten minute trance bought and paid for at a carnival. You sit drooling in a chair, with plans to hit a multi-dimensional roller coaster afterwards, as your Human life unfolds, decade after decade after decade. When you awake you are handed a napkin for the drool. At least half of those who choose the “ride” softly mutter “fuck” after opening their eyes.
I read a lot, and almost entirely fiction (the truth behind the lie). When driving I listen to audio cd recordings of books read by actors, and I drive a lot. I keep a book in my car for reading at coffee shops and a book by my bed for nighttime reading. Audio cds are problematic as only the most mainstream books can afford the cost of hiring and recording a reader. I often read books a second time due to the low quality of available fiction. But I love stories and tolerate this.
Recently, just in the month of November, I listened to three audio books that were disappointing. In each case I had read a lot by the author; their track records were stellar and my expectations high. The dearth of good fiction means that I eagerly await the release of new work by proven authors.
The first book was Lethal White by Robert Galbraith, aka JK Rowling of Harry Potter fame. The three preceding books in this series about a London detective (Cormorant Strike) and his partner were superb. The fourth book, Lethal White, was not terrible but simply and disappointingly ordinary.
The second book was an oldie by Michael Crichton. Early on I read him as a guilty pleasure; he was formulaic but good at what he did. I believe I have read at least half of his oeuvre. Crichton’s Jurassic Park was disappointing from beginning to end; it was as if it was his first novel and he was stumbling through it, but it was not his first and paled next to the earlier works I have read.
The last book was another guilty pleasure; the author does not rub shoulders with John Fowles or E. M. Forster. The author is Lee Child (Jim Grant) and this was his eighteenth book in a series focused on the character Jack Reacher. It’s typical superhero stuff along the line of Sherlock Holmes, but for me the stories are like pure candy (likely almost all his readers are men). This 18th book, Past Tense, is read by a new reader who falls short of Dick Hill’s work on the previous 17 novels, but much worse than this was the writing. It does not even seem like the same writer. I am so disappointed I will be writing the publisher to convey how terrible this book was.
The read these three books consecutively, all in the month of November. What they have in common is the authors are hugely successful. When they sit down to type they know beyond a doubt that they are about to make hundreds of dollars per minute of typing. They know that vast swathes of readers will be buying their latest release. Naturally this creates pressures to produce whether or not inspiration is present.
The Christmas marketing season begins the day after Halloween. I guess this is the risk of buying audio books designed to snag Christmas sales (Lethal White and Past Tense). I have been perusing the used audio books on Amazon and elsewhere, but I quickly run into the problem of rare editions. A new author I am enjoying is Rex Stout who wrote about detective Nero Wolfe from 1934 until 1974. I have a number of used audio books by him, but am stymied by the exorbitant price tags on his hard-to-find material.
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An Errant Parent, An Heir Apparent
Robin Hood, Robbing Hoodlum
Words both reveal and obscure. They are paradox incarnate. Words may aptly describe half of the world, but they fool us into imagining that they describe all of the world. Nevertheless, we are always a little startled when a good poem manages to describe more than half the world. Such is art.
Words have sealed off Humans from the rest of the world. The paradox of words blinds us to the paradox of duality. It is words, first and foremost, that make the majority blind, ignorant and stupid. Words are both the smoke and the mirrors that populate our universe. With words, as with all of duality, we take one step forward, and one step back.
I have pondered aging for a while, as most everyone does by my age (63). It strikes me that youth is addicted to expansion. At age 3, age 7, etc. there is this constant expansion of physical and mental powers that is a lovely experience, even against a backdrop of difficulties and bad family dynamics. However, like any drug, it begins to offer diminishing return, e.g., the expansion at age 2 is enormously larger than the expansion at age 22. Over time the effects wear off. Still, even through the 20s and 30s and 40s, when physical powers are diminishing, we experience expansion in a more ethereal form as we expand into marriage, family and career. But at some point, prior to the 70s, even for the late bloomers, we reach a tipping point and we enter a twilight period where we are, effectively, suffering withdrawal from expansion. We downsize our lives, our careers and our dreams and prepare for an ongoing contraction. An astrologer I know out of Vienna says that he ignores the work of anyone that is created after age 66. That may be a generalization and there are surely exceptions, but this move from expansion addiction to expansion withdrawal (contraction) kicks in for everyone who lives long enough. I am reminded of a quote from Black Elk: “The life of a man is a circle from childhood to childhood, and so it is in everything where power moves.”
There is wisdom, for what it’s worth. But in the plane of consciousness called duality everything is one step forward, one step back. The infinity sign is just a zero with a twist.
Any European American with American Indian ancestry, however slim or unverified, is eager to share this knowledge with nearly everyone they meet. African-Americans, most of whom have 15 -20% European ancestry, almost never acknowledge this.
I find it interesting that while the Spaniards mingled with the Central American Indians they conquered, such that most Mexicans are of mixed ancestry, the northern Europeans killed and conquered but seldom mingled with the American Indian population. It strikes me that this is the difference between the military and religious conquering of the Spanish and relocation/settling of the English. The Brits brought wives and sons and daughters, the Spaniards brought soldiers and priests and left their women behind.
Surrealism: An archaic term. Formerly an art movement. No longer distinguishable from everyday life.
In Modernism, reality used to validate media. In Postmodernism, the media validate reality. If you don’t believe this, just think how many times you’ve described some real event as being ‘just like a movie.’
Futurism: This was a movement of intellectuals who wanted to replace tradition with the modern world of machinery, speed, violence, and public relations. It proves that we should be careful what intellectuals wish for, because we might get it.