My Game or
A Freefall From Nothing
My game maybe simple
It mayhap have no rules
Perhaps not to listen to
two or more fools.
For it seems a single Fool
and I seem as he
inventing the World
in all that I see.
Perchance that you
may understand
possibly I do not end
at the tip of my hand.
Nor might I stop
where my feet meet and greet
the crust of the earth
warmed in my Sun's heat.
I may be any extreme
and most in between
and to answer the koan
I make the grass the green.
Apparently I choose
grand skies of blue
and conceivably I
may re-invent you.
Before you go off
and feel mostly annoyed
please remember
One comes from Void.
To "be" or not
a difficult milieu
I eternally do not
now, I will do.
This was the "centerfold" of the 'zine. This piece of ball point pen art, "The Machinery of the Illuminati Rolls On," I made while I spent a day being a Deputy Returning Officer for some election held in Calgary back in 1998. I can't recall what it paid, but I do recall it was pretty good money for sitting at a table for most of the day watching people tuck ballots into a box while drawing the above work, heh. It's only too bad it was merely a one time gig. A guy could get used to such a cushy government job, know what I mean?
Suits
We see you standing on the corner,
Waiting impatiently for the light.
Or rushing off to meet some deadline,
You are the dead line!
You seldom look us in the eye,
You are scared of "them" and "their kind,"
"Degenerate loser," you think,
"Hopeless freak," you think,
"Adolescent punk," you think,
YOU THINK?!?
No one is truly free,
But you are most bound of all!
Tick-tock! Chained to the clock!
Ching-ching! Slave to shiny coins
And pretty printed paper!
Wen will you "grow up,"
And open your eyes?
Perchance wake up and realize
That stress, ulcers, and losing your hair,
Good credit, loans, and getting, "MY SHARE"
Has done you much harm and little good
Left you with the empty shell
Of the robot you've become!
The software and hardware of you
And the company you suffer for,
Are simply this and nothing more!
Helping encourage what's wrong with our race,
Making our shared reality an erroneous disgrace!
You poison all it is that you do
And WE
have no pity
for YOU!
That bit of text in the middle there reads: "Je ne suis rien ('therefore' symbol) je suis tout," which, according to my French Canadian friend at the time was the translation I asked for of the English, "I am nothing ('therefore' symbol) I am everything."
Back when I released this little 'zine, a so-called friend of mine--someone who I admired a fair bit as he was a few years older than me, and, at least in some ways, exposed me to some aspects of counter culture--well, when I gave him his copy, he flipped through it briefly, got to this page, and said, "well, that's hard to read." That was his only comment on this particular effort of mine. Yeah, guy could be a bit of a jealous and controlling egomaniac at times. I haven't actually been his friend for about twelve years now. Good riddance to those who hold us down or back, yah?
But, he was sorta' right: the font is a bit difficult to read (I should have never let Josh, whose Dad (a minister of some church)'s computer this was assembled on and printed from, talk me into changing the font from the easily legible text to the cool one--oh well, it is a cool font, especially for 1998). And particularly so as a scan. So here is the text (it'll actually be interesting to see what my younger self thought he had to say--I haven't read this in, I dunno', probably about sixteen years, I guess):
Our world has the appearance of a black iron prison. Irrational governments drawing lines on maps to mark ownership, like a cat sprays furniture. Hollower than thou religions divide human beings with fear, hate, and self-denial. Corporate empires enslave the individual into drone-like subservience with the mighty dollar. it would appear that one of the few keys to our collective cell door is anarchy.
Anarchy is not necessarily about guns, bombs, and mass revolution. It starts with the individual, and how one choses to act/react/inter-act to various forms of stimuli. It is all about making choices/decisions and accepting absolute responsibility for them. It is standing up for one's beliefs and views against any opposition. Anarchy is the self rule of knowing when to ride something out, or when to turn away. All is permitted to an Anarchist.
Nothing is true. Truth comes and goes like fads and trends. An Anarchist chooses hir truth as required, and is able to mutate truth with circumstance. Dogma is a tool of slavery and absolutes are a myth. An Anarchist abides, but sees beyond, working in the now to change the immediate.
The individual is the mightiest, for within the individual is the whole. "Do unto others as you would have them do to you," is the golden rule, the cornerstone of Anarchy. Everything in existence is an extension of the individual, like infinite appendages. Would you sever your undiseased arm? Every person has the right to explore life the way they choose, and let others do the same. There's no need for judgement or persecution, as long as one's freedom does not encroach on another's.
Anarchy is spontaneous order, and it is the wonder of entropy. Anarchy allows something from nothing, an infinite variety of splendour, beauty and enjoyment. Anarchy is living the life you love, and loving all that truly lives. Anarchy is trimming the dead branches of negative thoughts and deeds that blind obedience creates. Think for yourself.
A GDG agit-prop experiment. Executed by BEH with special thanks to J.A. Copyshare 1998, all rights reversed. Spread the virus.
Hunh. Seems not much has changed in the last seventeen years re: religions, governments, and corporations, say. Indeed they seem to have only gotten worse in many ways.
It also seems like I was a bit of a radical little thinker once upon a time. Good thing I've really mellowed out in my older years, hey?
Thanks for reading and checking out some of this archival shit. Fuck yeah.
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