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Smoking Mirrors — Feb 7, 2016

I’ve been thinking about the importance of ‘Black Oscars Matter’ and I’ve come up with a few ideas on the subject. I think the first thing to do is to hijack the blockbuster meme. Start making films like, “Blackman and Robin”. You know what? I could get real comedic here but I’m not going to. What I am going to do it treat with the absurdity.
First off, the Oscars are full of shit. Very often the best films don’t win. Like when, increasingly those CIA inspired propaganda movies like “Hurt Locker’, “American Sniper”, “Argo” and “Dark Zero Thirty” start getting megaloads of press, nominations and positive reviews, when they are basically garbage and who is it that runs Hollywood and who is primarily responsible for where blacks would be at and how their characters are expressed in the medium? Do I have to say it?! Let’s go back a few decades when the only blacks you saw in films were the google eyed Stepin Fetchits. Maybe you weren’t around when this was happening. I was. No one has victimized and culturally slandered black people like the Tribe cabals that own the studios. From Aunt Jemima to Amos and Andy they kept black people in their place and they don’t want them in Israel either.
All of this has changed somewhat in these modern times but now we got the gansta theme and the playa theme and various themes that accent the sexual dynamism angle, in order to promote certain cultural changes in real life. Now… whether they want to run their ‘blacks on blondes’ agenda, or create their myths of super potency and superior sexual prowess is none of my business. I grew up on military bases and was exposed to black people before most others. I played with them and had them as friends and that has continued through my life. I’ve been locked up with them in the most dangerous environments and it is a testimony to my freedom from racist attitudes and fears of the kind that I walked out of the whole affair untroubled by horrible possibilities that were rampant at the time and probably still are.
Still… equality is not about handing out appreciation and merit when there is nothing to appreciate, as is the case this year with films that got black actors in them. The ones I know about were subpar and in some cases, like “The Hateful 8”, a total piece of garbage. I don’t recall any Asians getting attention and I don’t hear any of them crying about it either. Native Americans? They hardly get any roles, much less nominations. Did The Chief get one in, “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest?”
This year, “The Revenant” is getting all of the buzz and there was no acting to speak of in it. Apparently it is Decaprio’s turn in the barrel and it doesn’t matter whether it was any good or not. The best one can say is that it was much better than “The Hateful 8.” Probably the best acting job this year was Steve Carrell. Christian Bates is nominated too and that was pretty good but then, he was also in that abortion, “The Knight of Cups” and he should be docked points simply for that (grin).
I don’t want to talk about movies. The reason there was no post for over a week is that I don’t know what to talk about anymore. I’ve said all I can say and I’ve said it a hundred times. I seem to drift these days. I awaken but I do not know what to. I let myself get lost in the rubbish of certain entertainments as a preventive against making up my mind about what to do. Every time I have made up my mind in recent years, I have made a mistake. I don’t know where to go anymore. I don’t know where to stay. I think perhaps I should go to India because the commercial wastelands of this world are not going to offer anything and I know I could find succor in the Himalayas.
Some of you know what it is like to be possessed of a longing and an attraction that is not of this world and which yearns with an unspeakable passion for another; half invisible and half potential. It stands to reason that one cannot find this in the marketplaces of the world and of course Mumbai and so many other places qualify but I know of only two places that are somewhat possible and that is The Andes and The Himalayas. There are brotherhoods in both locations and possibly elsewhere too. I was told years ago that there were seven locations that would be saved when the heavy shit went down, as it will. One is also in Mexico and one in Russia, another in Mongolia. I suppose I know more than I am saying but I don’t get to say all kinds of things because they are hidden from my sight every time I go to say them, they aren’t there anymore and anyone who has these labors upon them knows what I am talking about.
So… each day I rise to some occasion and often just sit there, frozen in some moment of time… suspended like chemicals in solution… waiting on something and I have no idea what that is. I never imagined it would be as hard and difficult as it is. I never imagined that every decision I would make would be wrong. I am not a stupid person but somehow, I have failed at everything. Destiny can be merciless and fate unforgiving. So now I wait. John Milton once said, in his Ode to My Blindness, or whatever it was called, “they also serve who only stand and wait.” I take some comfort in that. I wish I were stronger, I’m sure all men do but we have only what is sufficient to the day at hand. I think of the immortal poets more now than I ever did and I know this transient veil of life, obscures a brilliant light that is beyond our mortal ken.
I feel humbled by that which is beyond the reach of my essentially corrupt nature. I wish I were a better man but I am not. I would stand and fight but… the greatest enemy is within. As the Lord of the Rings plays alongside my writing this today, all I can think is that I wish I were an elf. I’m told that a human birth has so much more potential than a Devic birth but I have been attracted to that realm far more than anything I have ever found here. The human experience has left me with the taste of ashes and an enormous sense of regret for all of the things I could have and should have been and done and didn’t; paths that might have been taken and were either ignored because of reckless abandon or… never possible to begin with and simply imagined in retrospect.
I’m not a bad person. I serve in every moment where opportunity provides but I fall short. I always fall short. I say this with all the naked agony of my kind. Somehow the miles and the years pile up and when we look back upon them they seem so brief but… as the mind conjures an awareness of where one was at the time, it seems so long. How did we manage to fuck up so many possibilities? Perhaps they were only phantasms. Perhaps we never had a choice and it is just the nature of our ignorance that we believe we could have done better but no… we did the best we could. Regret is the perpetuating state of the dream worlds of mortals and… I am not that but it seems as if it is so.
I’m just sharing this with you today because I don’t know what else to say. I don’t want to talk about all of the dumb and mindless crap that we use around here as a backdrop for what we really want to say and always get around to saying at some point in these epistles to whomever. I’m tired of this Ashkenazi bloodbath around the world and what they don’t kill in the body they kill in the heart and the mind and the soul. I’m tired of the male driven imperatives of the Arab world; the contempt for women who are the single bravest and most beautiful portions of ourselves, who are in reality, our higher selves, who are the gentler and sweeter and more perfect portion of what our souls are all about. I suppose I am heartbroken at my own insufficiency and the fact that I never appreciated them half as much as I should have.
This is a cruel and unfortunate world where we, in blood and flesh, consummate and extract our debts from our own person within ourselves and upon ourselves by extension. Were it not for the greater love and mentoring that is bestowed upon us in this crucible of pain we would never escape. Thankfully we are saved according to our ability to sacrifice ourselves before the greater challenge of service to our fellows. There is no greater joy that is possible here and one discovers this to the extent that their selfish nature persists in keeping them from the recognition of this and at the expense of grievous suffering in respect of that lesson learned. It is just how it is.
So… it is that I have written this today and I hope the day finds you well.
End Transmission…….

 

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