Monday, August 09, 2004

Cranks

Sunday, August 4th, 2001- Kaimuki

As far back as the origins of the written language we can find rants and testimonials of hermits, prophets and serious men bemoaning the sorry state of affairs that people have wrought upon the face of the Earth.

Splitting from the consensus views, the objective perspective balks at the "unnatural " order that defines civic culture.

For thousands of years the unshaven have cursed the joiners, the players of the city game.

All the same the game playes on, and the Gaian voice squeaks ungreased through the harsh throats of those closest to Her.

Have the desert dwellers been deluded fools that swooned to the influences of a terra-centric tyrant of the 4th dimension?

Perhaps the servents of progress are tied into a far more expansive reality.

Maby the hermit has unknowingly assumed the roll of cranky custodian of the Earth factory, bitching about the messy unconscious passing through the earth gig.

Mayby the Judeo-Christian God is just an arrogant shift boss managing the human resources assigned to him.

Going over Gods Head can make the earth work environment a living hell.

Or not.

Cosmic Labor Union?




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