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After the Fireworks Have Faded: Intimations of Bosons Among a Cacophony of Bozos

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Therein, liberals retreat to their comfort zones, while the forsaken laboring class constructs insulating walls of resentment. Dialog becomes prohibitive. "Reasonable" liberals gape with mortification at those to the political right and left of themselves, and attempt to cope by erecting buttresses of unassailable reason"that outsiders perceive as citadels of implacable snobbery.

As important as the function is, and how devoid the retrograde right seems in regard to it, in the struggle to re-imagine and remake the present order, intellectual prowess alone will not suffice, because the intellect, when it marries a like-minded soul, produces a progeny of idiots.

But when the intellect learns the painful dance of self-awareness i.e., develops an awareness of the living landscape of the heart, alive with breathing imagery, then it becomes possible to know the world, sans a fool's swoon of self-referential arrogance.

As is the case with any natural disaster, the seemingly boundless font of stupid extant in the current day U.S. is a sublime thing (as in the relationship between the words, awe and awful) to behold. The scene unfolding before us evokes the mortifying sense of awe experienced while watching a seething nimbus of locust descending on a region's harvest crop.

Images such as these can incur awful pain. There are so many walls of exponential inanity rising before us, in the present day U.S., that one can go mad with grief. We find ourselves within a labyrinth of idiocy; whatever direction we turn, we trudge headlong down yet another corridor of the dumb.

Yet, obstructions are not necessarily a bad thing"Barriers can stop one's drift and slow down manic evasions. There must be something providential glimpsed when gazing upon the blank visage of the hopelessly dim"something we can learn from those unwilling or incapable of learning. But what that is, I, myself, am apparently too dim to glean.

Then it follows: I am humbled. Humility is one key to learning. The loss of arrogant preconceptions opens one, heart and mind, to the novel"to an emergent font of new forms.

The unmovable wall of stupid becomes a holy obstruction"unfathomable as the face of divinity.

I feel like an idiot when I contemplate the unfolding of eternity. How can one match the eloquence of the night sky, or the weave of a spider's web stippled with morning dew?

Madame Spider and Mother Boson, I stand before your craft"a gibbering fool. But you have taught me this:

Continue with the work you were born to perform"Live in the world"to demure, would entail falling into the ranks of an idiot's parade comprised of one.

There is much to learn from the stupid, unless the lesson is being presented, exclusively, in the form of first person singular.

No compulsion to gain permanent control can be successful. The field of battle, scattered with the slain corpses of our obsessive aspirations, stands as a testament to our desperate folly. Victory is a vain fantasy of the naive and the psychopathic.

Conversely, allow yourself to be touched by life"caressed and buffeted by beauty, necessity, even mortification and grief. Just continue unfolding into life"All things are transitory. No state of being is permanent. This is the reason attempts at tyranny are an exercise in futility from the get-go.

On the day that Independence Day is celebrated in the U.S. arrived confirming evidence of the existence of the Boson Particle, a possible connecting component of matter.

Accordingly, let's make a few connections: The present order has wrought economic tyrannies and inevitable environmental collapse, and is proliferate with the seeds of its own destruction. It should be evident to anyone with the cognitive capabilities of an over-ripe squash that global, neoliberal capitalism (and its game-rigging, political class-owning, mammon-worshipping cartel of privileged thieves) has entered into an exponentially increasing state of entropic breakdown.

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http://www.philrockstroh.com/

Phil Rockstroh is a poet, lyricist and philosopher bard living in New York City. He may be contacted at: phil@philrockstroh.com. Visit Phil's website: http://philrockstroh.com/ or at FaceBook: http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000711907499
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On the day that Independence Day is celebrated her... by Phil Rockstroh on Monday, Jul 9, 2012 at 4:23:59 PM
We could possibly spend eternity finding them all ... by Theresa Paulfranz on Monday, Jul 9, 2012 at 9:39:58 PM
Yesterday I saw a young man at the entrance to the... by Burl Hall on Tuesday, Jul 10, 2012 at 4:23:50 AM
Listen to me, you old fart: When I was young, very... by Ned Lud on Tuesday, Jul 10, 2012 at 7:49:38 AM