A Short Essay from One Year Ago on Bureaucratization

I wrote this essay with the exception of the final paragraph one year ago when I was taking classes from Andrej Grubačić and Rod Driver in Michael Albert’s School for Social and Cultural Change. 

There’s a term called bureaucratization which was theorized by David Graeber. I think it’s important to understand this term, he developed it notably in a book from 2015 called The Utopia of Rules. The way that a society functions is defined by its bureaucracy, basically these are the rules. They are created by government. But increasingly corporations which in theory are supposed to be regulated by these rules, have gained enough influence that through the practice of lobbying, they’re effectively able to influence and even in some cases directly write the rules which regulate them. Some have used the term the revolving door to refer to a class of individual who works first for the government and then later in private industry, and vice versa, as another example of the close interconnection between capital and the state, and Graeber himself has basically stated that the US employs a system of legalized bribery, which in practice creates the conditions whereby people are able to effectively turn their wealth into power, and to use that power to generate more wealth. We should probably understand this to be a complex connection of politics to the economy, which might be termed a political economy. 
   The political economy of our day and age has taken the form of a financialized capitalism. In effect what this means is that the way money functions in our economy is different now than it was in the past. Most notably money is not backed as it used to be by some commodity, but rather is a commodity unto itself, called fiat money. The value of this fiat money is basically created when it is loaned on interest, effectively meaning that the value of this money is debt itself. What that also means is that without debt, the value of fiat money is useless. The question I want to ask is, what kind of a political economy does this create? It seems to me that it is one based on debt peonage. 
   Graeber has argued elsewhere that capitalism is really a transformation of slavery. This starts to make a lot of sense if one begins to see political economy as a process of coercion and control. Bureaucratization then is a complex system for bringing into being what it represents, namely a permutation of one order of social relations. 
   Bureaucratization could be seen as a way that humans create the type of society they have. Crucially this is different from other theories about how society functions which often tend to naturalize some aspect of the operation. What it demonstrates is the way humans shape the societies they live in. Critically, it also shows the way this activity is concentrated in the hands of a few, and is imposed from the top down, excluding the many, who are dominated hierarchically. 
   This is a problem. So what do we do?

   One of the first steps we might take in light of this is to recognize the way bureaucracy appeals to us. Many of us associate the idea of anarchy with a dystopia of no rules. For anyone familiar with the actual political theory of anarchism, however, this is of course a fictionalized distortion which bears no resemblance to the actual political project that anarchists advocate for. If we simply look at the etymology, an in Greek meaning no, and archos, rulers; in essence what anarchism is most concerned with is the question of rulers, and not exactly the question of rules. The idea of a chaos without rules, has no value for anarchism which is actually a theory of organizing; in particular a theory of organizing without a need for coercive force, or hierarchy or domination. One of the primary assertions of anarchism then it should come as no surprise is that peaceful, effective organization without rulers, a society without domination, is possible. 
   What is it that makes us think otherwise?
   It’s probably related to our secret love of bureaucracy, or perhaps a fear of taking genuine control over our lives. 
   There are trade-offs in authoritarian regimes we’re all familiar with where one gives up their autonomy, but is also relieved of the burden to have to think for themselves. 
   Graeber describes how in life its rules are often ambiguous, and hence the appeal of “grandiose cosmological scheme[s]” that make a claim for having the right and wrong answer for everything. 
   Is it that autonomy is so vertiginous to us that we would rather put up with the misery authoritarianism and hierarchy brings?
   If we think about it and determine autonomy is a principle we value, then the next step towards realizing autonomy, is to understand that we can act as if we were already autonomous. It is true that the world we inhabit is everywhere filled with structural violence and the threat of coercive force. However there are still spaces, some theorists like Andrej Grubačić have called them exilic spaces, where there is nothing stopping us from acting differently than we may otherwise feel compelled to act, under a political economy which sees us treating ourselves and others as pawns in a game. Rather we could begin to practice mutual aid; we could begin to form alternative structures from the bottom up, that help us to become more autonomous through cooperation. 
   This leads however to a new problem which we would have to face that is the real problem facing alternative forms of organizing society, and not whether or not these forms are possible; as everywhere in history and even now happening before our very eyes, we can see that they are. The real problem facing movements to create a better world are the authoritarian reactions they produce which overwhelmingly seek to eradicate these movements, not only from existence and any representation in the media, but also from the history books. When these cannot be fully eradicated the reality around them will be distorted; what comes to mind being the popular understanding of anarchy from earlier, or similar notions of any form of emancipatory social project being doomed to failure, or the idea that any possible alternative to the current form of political economy that we have being a nice idea in principle but that in reality it could never work. Broadly, this is how liberals apprehend leftism. So in this way, they share common ground with conservatives. What this seems to show is that ideologies claiming that we can’t be free, bear a strong effect on our ability to imagine alternative social formations other than the ones which currently predominate. 
   This strikes me as a kind of double move, perhaps one that is related to the problem of bureaucracy. 

   In short the problem is that bureaucratization has brought all of society under the total control of capital and the state, in a way that is, for the vast majority of its subjects, totally compulsive and non-participatory. Over time this totality has only narrowed our ability to conceive of possible alternatives to this dominant form of social order. As such less and less energy is devoted to trying to oppose this tyranny and to enact viable alternatives, only fueling in a vicious cycle the growth of more and more pessimism and learned helplessness. There is perhaps something in the potential for conditioning the human animal which can make sentient beings come to accept an awful lot in life. But if we are to guarantee that there is a future worth living in for future generations, we simply cannot give in to such nihilism. It may not be possible to transform society for the better overnight, but it will certainly remain impossible forever, if we remain unable to untangle what is truly impossible from what is simply the sum total of decades on decades of assault on the human capacity to dream, and most crucially to enact, a better world. 

Poetry in the Tradition of Shelley

The poet must be a radical. Shelley knew it. Our poets must remember it today. 
Radical poetry is protest poetry. The aim of protest poetry is to express outrage and instill hope. The poetry part of it is to create beauty through aesthetics, and to generate and circulate power by way of intellectual exertion. 
There’s probably no question that we have a long fight ahead of us. Poetry can thus serve as a way of generating morale. 
What are we fighting for? If you have to ask then you must not know. 
Let the people educate you


The Thought and the Bullet

There is an abstraction in the air
Which lends its form to naked brute reality. 
It is the same abstraction that flags are made of,
As well as money. 
What can I do but wish the opposition
movement in Myanmar fighting the military dictatorship 
would be armed with the weapons they need
to win their struggle for democracy?
What can I do but train myself
not to be afraid of fear, and to remember
how I read the biography of Che Guevara
while I was there. Insofar as to know
there is such thing as a righteous fight,
But that our Western powers of the world
are so often to that the tyrannical bad guy.
You great powers don’t care for the disobedience of your subjects
Only the disobedience that makes your rivals look bad. 
You Chinese Communists don’t care for international solidarity
But for the power to rule the Middle Kingdom
That goes back for thousands of years. 
You liberal internationalists don’t care for liberty and equality
But for the dream of managing the entire world
Like a military junta. 
You Republicans who care about life in name only,
Shift the blame on a geopolitical rival as you are wont to do
While being an extremist party yourself;
Which revels in an anti-democratic dress rehearsal 
Of leading your own country down a path to military junta. 
For what your fascist protesters erected as a joke
Was really used to brutally rob four Myanmar people of their life. 
Your rhetoric will ring hollow throughout the ages
Of human rights and the rule of law, 
For there can be no justice and protections if they remain exclusive
To those with privilege, and the technology to execute—
Our words are always hollow if they aren’t backed up with deeds,
But what can the powerless do,
What can we do when your laws and rights
Are words backed up by the violence of a State
Which has been gutted and rearranged 
To serve only the elite interests
Of the abstract notion that rules us all?
How an idea can rule you
Is a question only the bullet can answer. 
You bullet are no sophisticated point
Though your trajectory is irrefutably compelling. 
The fear you inspire generates discourse,
A freedom from fear in the form of social status
And the peace of mind that comes out of 
A comfortable salary. 
For the ones I hear tend to focus all the blame on foreign boogeymen, 
On anything other than a material analysis. 
That you only arm the struggles which serve your best interests,
Those of capitalism and geopolitical dominance. 
You could unfreeze the US$1 billion in the Federal Reserve
And give it to the Myanmar National Unity Government!
Give it to the People’s Defense Forces!
Or will you continue to act in ways that only serve to reproduce the brute force of rule
Bringing together mutually autocratic sovereignties. 
And capitalism, you are the most autocratic sovereignty of them all;
You complex mixture of the bullet and the thought. 

The Psycho-Sociological Dynamics of Fascist Patriarchy 

A book the premise of which has inspired this essay.

We take the term psycho-sociological to refer to the way psychological and sociological factors combine. This is one way of understanding how the behaviors of individuals can be shaped by the groups or communities of which they are a part. 
We take the term fascist patriarchy to suggest a political structure which is also inherent in personal relationships. In this case, it is a structure which is enforced from the top down, but also from the bottom up. From the top down through patriarchal institutions such as the private ownership of the means of production, i.e. capitalism; or authoritarian structures such as a non-democratic work environment; or more obvious forms of patriarchal control such as oppressive religious institutions, which seek to restrict freedom of control over populations such as women or human behaviors such as sexuality. Then from the bottom up insofar as these same structures are reflected and enforced in individual social units such as the family. 


It is my theory that family dysfunction is ironically a function of social control. 
   The dysfunctional family can be described as such, and echoes the same in a society which is not free and equal: Dysfunction is defined as the inability of a family unit to work appropriately for all its members. 

What is meant by appropriateness and membership

   We should consider the concept of membership and of appropriateness. Membership in this case is not too different from the concept of citizenship, and is the social context in which one finds themselves independently of an individual decision. So for instance the circumstances into which one is born. One is born into a family unit independent of any decision made by the individual, and this intrinsic membership is what is meant by the concept of members of a family. Of course this membership is not immutable and also has cultural constituents. For instance in the way that it’s possible to seek citizenship in a country other than that of one’s origin, or in the ways that families continue to grow and evolve over time. Those considered to be members of a group is also culturally determined and is as much a product of who is considered to be accepted and not accepted into the group that constitutes the membership of that group. 

   As for appropriateness, this is another concept which can find its correlate in social phenomena. Let us for instance consider the concept of exploitation in economics. 
   We shall use this concept as a metric to determine what is meant by appropriateness for all members of a family unit. 

The “inappropriateness” of exploitation

   Exploitation in an economic context is defined by an unequal relationship between capital and labor, whereby in order for the capitalist to make a profit, they must expropriate from the laborer a portion of the value that the laborer creates. The laborer doesn’t receive the full value of their labor, but rather that value is extracted by the capitalist, and only a portion of its value is given back to the laborer in the form of a wage, in order for the capitalist to generate a profit. Profit is the main economic driver in capitalism, and so exploitation is intrinsic to the structure of capitalism. There can be no capitalism without profit, and there can be no profit without exploitation, and so the inequality of exploitation is what constitutes the capitalist relation. Our concept of appropriateness is defined against that. The appropriateness of a relationship is defined by its general equality. So in an economic context, appropriateness would be defined as the absence of exploitation in an economic relationship. In the context of a family unit, it would be defined as the general equality in the relationships between individual members. 

What is meant by equality of relationships

   The absence of exploitation in the workforce is what is known as socialism. Another way of putting this is that socialism is democracy in the workplace. What this means is very simple. While most people in the United States are generally under the assumption that democracy is a good and worthy political value, few seem to question why this political principle is not found in the domain where most people spend the overwhelming amount of time in their lives—besides at home—namely in the workplace.
   Democracy in the workplace basically means that individuals have a proportionate amount of say in decisions which affect them. This is generally what people understand democracy to be in a political context; that in theory members of a democracy are able to participate in decision making, by say, voting on issues which affect them. People in the United States generally find this much more amenable to their sensibilities than say, the political structure of a dictatorship, in which people do not have a proportionate amount of say in decisions which affect them, but rather have commands dictated to them. Yet these same ideological champions of democracy and critics of dictatorship don’t seem to question the way that workplaces in the United States are not democratized at all, but very much operate like a dictatorship, with one class of individuals giving orders that another class of individuals have to obey, lest they would lose their job and be submitted to a state of economic precarity. 

   Democracy in the workplace is a threat to capitalism, because if workers had a proportionate say in decision making, one of the first democratic decisions they would almost certainly make, is to put an end to the structure of exploitation. The only reason that people consent to economic exploitation is because they have no other choice. There is no one who would consent to being paid less than what their labor is worth, if there wasn’t an authoritarian structure compelling them to accept these conditions. There is for instance obviously no one who would voluntarily consent to the conditions of slavery. Rather those conditions must be brutally enforced on a population. 

   If the structure of relationships between people is equal; that is to say no one has a greater proportion of decision making power over the conditions which affect others, then we would say that structure is appropriate. We would say it’s equal. 
   However if a privileged class or individual has a disproportionate degree of decision making power, over the conditions which affect others, then we would say the structure of relationships is not working appropriately. That it is unequal. 
   An unequal structure of relationships in a family unit, is what we refer to as a structure of relationships which is not working appropriately for all members. 
   We have defined the inability of a family unit to work appropriately for all members, as family dysfunction. 

Dysfunction as control

   Just because a relationship or structure of relationships is dysfunctional, doesn’t mean it isn’t functioning according to a certain logic. 
   This is where we may notice the reality of dysfunction is related to the psychological concepts of repression and denial.
   In the case of capitalism, its “dysfunction” undoubtedly operates according to a specific logic, has clear aims and goals, and serves a specific interest. One class in the relationship is repressed—or oppressed—they are exploited, not without purpose; but because it’s in the best interest of the class above them to exploit them. A kind of analogy could be made here with psychological repression. Denial for instance, is the repression of clear basic facts, but not without purpose. In classical psychology, this has been explained as a defense mechanism. In short, when the individual psyche is confronted with anomalous or uncomfortable information which it may perceive as threatening, it is likely to react against that information with extreme emotion which is the action of repression. The initial extreme emotion will then be avoided in the future by making of the content of that anomalous or uncomfortable information the subject of denial. 

   To then return from the psychological to the sociological, we could see another kind of analogy manifested sociologically in a labor movement. 
   An exploited class of workers moves to improve their material conditions, and is repressed—oppressed—by the capitalist class which dominates them. 
   One class fights to bring to light the fact of the injustice of their exploitation and domination, whereas the other class reacts against that movement, in a very real material way, denying the movement of its push for economic justice. Because our theory as a psycho-sociological analysis, attempts to find parallels between psychological and sociological phenomenon, perhaps one of our first most basic assertions, is to note the parallel between repression and oppression. That is, repression in the psychological sense, and oppression in the sociological sense. One common factor we may observe in these separate psychological and sociological instances, is control. 

   The repression of a labor movement is a capitalist exertion of control; it is the denial of workers to assert their agency. To grant agency to the workers would be to implement democracy in the workplace; it would be workers taking control over their own destiny. Instead, that agency is denied them, their movement is repressed, and they are placed back under capitalist control. 
   In the case of psychological repression, the defense mechanism of denial is basically a function of the ego, either insisting on a particular narrative or on the maintenance of a particular state of affairs. That narrative or state of affairs is usually unhealthy or damaging in some way; and hence its continual reproduction is known as enabling. 
   Movements to alter the dysfunctional state of affairs, will be perceived by the dominant factor in the defense mechanism, the repressive ego, as threatening. In this way, uncomfortable or anomalous information which contradicted the dominant narrative—even if provably correct—will be denied. Attempts to alter the unhealthy environment into a healthy one, will be rejected. All this to say that living in a state of denial can be perfectly logical. 
   This is because the state of denial serves some important purpose for the individual ego; it enables the reproduction of a certain state of affairs, or the continuation of a dominant narrative. And so—like the control exerted in a sociological context of a labor movement—so too is there a degree of control being exerted over a particular narrative or state of affairs in the psychological context of repression and denial. 

A psycho-sociological summary of fascist patriarchy

   At this point if we have sufficiently shown what a psycho-sociological perspective would look like, namely, one that finds parallels between psychological and sociological phenomenon, then, we can proceed with making an attempt to define what is meant by fascist patriarchy. 
   This term itself may prove initially triggering, as these words on their own go often deeply misunderstood, and in common parlance, can often simply appear to be synonymous with what is “bad,” or trigger extreme emotional reactions, as a projection of what is perceived to be under criticism. 
   It is thus a necessary burden for this essay to define what is meant by fascism and patriarchy. 
   Before doing so, we can begin by asserting a general structuralism for the psycho-sociological perspective, which takes into account there is a complex interaction between political and personal factors. As such it must be emphasized that in essence fascism and patriarchy are institutional structures or systemic dynamics primarily. Although they do get embodied secondarily in particular individuals. 

   We will begin with fascism and then move to patriarchy. This is not necessarily because one proceeds the other, even though one is more generally enforced from the top down, and the other from the bottom up. This is because the top down and bottom up reinforcement works together mutually. One is not necessarily the cause of the other, but both mutually influence each other. 

   For the purposes of this essay, we will assert a very general, political definition of fascism. We will begin with the general historical assertion that fascism has generally arisen as a political ideology and structure in reaction against socialism. It is generally asserted that the ideologies of fascism and socialism both arise within the context of a crisis of capitalism. Although while socialism seeks to progress beyond capitalism, fascism seeks to preserve it. We limit our definition of fascism therefore to its structural opposition to socialism. For the purposes of our psycho-sociological summary, then, since we have also defined socialism in a specific, general sense, as democracy in the workplace; fascism is the polar opposite view on this issue, that seeks to preserve the hierarchical chains of command which currently exist in the workplace under capitalism, which are in effect, dictatorial in practice. 

   There are many other constitutive elements of fascism that could be gone into, however again for the purposes of this essay, which is primarily concerned with the integrity of relationships, we are mostly concerned with the structure of relationships within a fascist dynamic, that can be broadly defined as hierarchical. 
   If socialism seeks an equality of relationships—according to our definition—then fascism seeks the polar opposite which is to preserve the inequality of relationships currently present in the status quo. Here is where patriarchy comes in. Before offering our definition, let it be stated now to be returned to later, that the psycho-sociological parallel within these structures—such as the one of control from earlier—is the enshrinement of hierarchy. 

   I contend that patriarchy, is a dysfunctional form of control. It is dysfunctional in the sense that it doesn’t work appropriately for all members, and it is a form of control in the sense that it is repressive, and works in connection with authoritarian tendencies. 
   Our definition of patriarchy is thus relational. It is a specific practice and ideology for structuring the relations within a family. In psycho-sociological terms, it is a personal subset of a broader political system, that is reinforced from the bottom up through a top down structure. 

   This brings us back to the structure of hierarchy. Among other things, what the general reactionary politics of fascists and conservatives, and liberals, alike, seek to preserve, is the structure of hierarchy which is an inequality of relationships. To the contrary, what the revolutionary politics of leftists seek to create, is not an equality of individuals, but an equality of relationships between individuals. That is, that each member of a unit, be it a citizen or family member, has a proportionate say in decisions which affect them, and, that by the same token, a privileged class or individual doesn’t have a disproportionate degree of decision making power over the conditions which affect others. 
   In the economic question, to answer to the problem of hierarchy and exploitation in the workplace—the inequality of relationships—the leftist advocates for socialism, for democracy in the workplace which the fascist vehemently opposes. 
   To consider the same in fascist patriarchy, we may want to briefly consider in conclusion, the relationship between workplace and home.

The word “economy” comes from the ancient Greek word for “household”

   We have defined socialism, an alternative way of organizing an economy opposed to capitalism, as democracy in the workplace. We have defined fascism in limited economic terms, as an opposition to socialism in seeking to preserve capitalism, which rejects democracy in the workplace. Insofar as it rejects democracy in the workplace, it champions the dictatorial structure of the capitalist relation. The dictatorial structure of the capitalist relation is hierarchical, which is an inequality of relationships. In practice this inequality of relationships robs the working class of their autonomy, forcing them to submit to life conditions which they would otherwise reject, were they given a proportionate amount of power over conditions which affect them. 
   This powerlessness over conditions which affect us, is in essence a powerlessness over our environment. Said in another way, it is our inability to make a living without submitting to the conditions of capitalism. For capitalists and workers alike, the only way to make a living under capitalism is by consenting to its inequality of relationships. 
   This basic inequality and domination inherent to capitalism is present in every single facet of our society, including in the household, although it doesn’t have to be. Where you would find inequality and domination reflected in the household; it is the assertion of this psycho-sociological theory, that you would also see that reflected in the broader society. In theory, if the society was more free and equal, so too would individual households tend to reflect this. In conclusion, we also assert that where you don’t, you are also likely to find fascism and patriarchy. 

Conclusion

   It is important to understand the ways that human relationships are conditioned by sociological factors and psychological predilections. In the same way that individuals are influenced by the groups or communities of which they are a part, so too are individual households influenced by political and economic structures. The political and economic structures which predominate in the world, and the United States in particular, are fairly obvious to anyone who takes a moment to care. It is the opinion of this writer that the way these work in tandem—as a top down and bottom up structure—could be defined in a broad sweep as a fascist patriarchy. While these two terms in particular carry a lot of extreme cultural reaction, I believe I have made my eccentric uses of this terminology in a way that is fairly clear. 
   It will undoubtedly remain controversial that patriarchy is a family dysfunction. What I think is uncontroversial however is that patriarchy serves a broader authoritarian society as a form of oppression and control. 
   We have here suggested that a “dysfunction” could be defined as simply as a condition within a unit which doesn’t work appropriately for all members. 
   When seen from a psycho-sociological perspective, we simply want to suggest that such a “dysfunction” could possibly be understood as reflective of a broader structure of exploitation and inequality. 

How Cybernetic Propaganda Works

Good ol’ Quasi-Fascist Tucker

Let’s do a quick analysis of how this news-image works. I would suggest it is emblematic of how propaganda works on the internet. The process is cybernetic. Maybe in another post I can try to do a more rigorous analysis of what this means to me. However the short version would be to say that it operates on the phenomenon of attitude polarization.

The caption is a bit small, so I’ll write it out in full.
The main headline is, Russian media, Fox News war narratives converge. Under that, the subhead reads: “Russian media has increasingly seized on Fox News’ primetime segments to paint a critical portrait of the United States and its foreign policy.” Finally, the most important bit to me, reads: Criticism of NATO expansion.
So, what is this bit of cybernetic communication doing?

In short, it is making those who do not identify with Fox News, realize that if they are to hold the right position-the position which is the opposite of Fox News-that means they must not be critical of United States foreign policy and especially of NATO expansion.

I’ll belabor the point a little.
The objective of this bit of cybernetic information, is to conflate two positions, for a specific purpose. That purpose is to try to discredit one position by lumping it in with another.
In this case it is to conflate a far-left position with a far-right position.
I propose the intention behind doing this is to create a specific ideological effect, which will tow the ideological line of Neoliberal fascism.

What do I mean by Neoliberal fascism?

I am using the term neoliberal fascism here to refer in general to the ideology of the United States.

The legitimate, far-left, antiwar position to hold, is criticism of NATO expansion.
However, this article conflates this far-left position, with the far-right media outlet Fox News.

If I have to explain to you that the far-left and the far-right are not at all the same thing then I think it is beholden on you to educate yourself a little more about politics.

The far-left is anti-fascist.
The far-right, at least in the United States, is quasi-fascist, and sometimes it is completely Fascist.
This is the truly nefarious truth about a far-right media outlet like Fox News. It is so far to the right as to represent a basically Fascist, or quasi-fascist media institution.
But those in the United States who are under the delusion that Fox News simply represents the dissemination of conservative ideology, are unaware of how deeply quasi-fascist the institution of Fox News really is. And to be more clear how the ideology which it generates and reinforces is one that is Neoliberally fascist.

Liberals in the United States, are Neoliberal Fascists too, but simply on the opposite pole of the spectrum. This is an ideological perspective which contains within it both liberalism, and fascism.
The liberal side of this polarization is conditioned to identify everything to do with Fox News as bad. By the same token, those taken in by Fox News ideology, consider everything that contradicts what Fox News is saying to be bad.

If you take the legitimate far-left, antiwar position that is critical of NATO expansion, and conflate it with the far-right ideology of Fox News, you will get liberals, or Neoliberal fascists, who think Fox News is bad, to think that criticism of NATO expansion is bad. And hence, this destroys the legitimacy of the far-left, antiwar position, by conflating it with its opposite, conflating it with what it is not.
By conflating it with the far-right, it destroys the far-left. It destroys the semantic consistency of the far-left. It destroys the semantic consistency of these polar opposite ideologies by conflating them. And hence the balance of Neoliberal fascism is maintained. That is to say, the balance of Neoliberal fascism excludes an anti-fascist critique, and brilliantly, by conflating anti-fascism with fascism itself.

In short, these two opposites cancel each other out. And you are left with an ideology which excludes anti-fascism. And if you have an ideology that has an absence of anti-fascism, that leaves you with an ideology that has the presence of fascism. For there is no element of the far-left in American ideology. There is only Neoliberal fascism, which has a far-right side to its polarization. A far-right side that the liberal wing of the ideology, which is simply in the center, is made to believe contains elements of the far-left; a self-contradictory statement that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

So, what do you think about NATO expansion? Do you think it is bad to criticize NATO expansion because Fox News, a far-right media outlet, for some reason or another, seems to be aligning itself with the antiwar position?
Why would Fox News be aligning itself with the antiwar position? Does anyone actually believe that the far-right in America is legitimately antiwar?
Please let me know in the comments below.

End the war in Ukraine,
Free the Russian peace activists,
NATO has got to go we sing.

白森

Dispatches from Heuristic Halo Press #8

Daddy Monster
 
Daddy, daddy, what is it you do,
Your green bleak skin, blotched and chewed?
 
I serve our kin, our Kings, to name a few,
who, with Their big, black arms, have ruled and rule the rules.
I kiss Their boots, lick Their hooves and pledge to do
anything a fanatic, a fool, a tool would do;
Ah-woo, Ah-woo.
 
Daddy, daddy, what is it you do,
Your eyes blare, poppies paired, glaring their hue?
 
My eyes thrust into Their eye-catching snare,
through which, I can see the world, twisted and stirred,
the monsters, once chanting and marching with their hearts bare,
are now hiding in their lairs, trembling scared;
A satisfied smirk, I titter and wear.
With mocking laughter, I curse, dare and swear,
 “Come out damn creatures; I’ll send you to hell!”
 
Daddy, daddy, what is it you do,
Your mouth titanic, gaping pit, dribbling toxic spit?
 
As a desperate preta, I forcefully enter the monsters’ houses and dig
into their hidden crypts, where the earthly delights glitter and hiss,
which off Our land, Our men they unrightfully ripped.
Pissed, like a ravenous pig, I swallow them all in bliss
Sweats and tears, blood and fear; there’s nothing I miss.
 
Daddy, daddy, what is it you do,
Your ruthless red hands with guns, black rotten like soot?
 
Out of the skulls of heroic mules, the goo of brains, I shoot.
From their half-dead carcasses, dismembered, bruised and mute,
their rights and alive organs, I bite off and loot
to sate my sadist ache for crude blood and food.
 
Daddy, daddy, what is it you do,
Mighty and high, your bloody brute shoes?
 
I stomp on the wings, the dreams, of youths, of you
with brute limbs, no flinch, I kick you and squish you
until the soul ooze out of every piece of you.
Beneath my shoes, your bodies spew
Blood and mush, like a squashed red fruit.
Daddy, daddy, how could you do?
Aren’t I your daughter, your beloved baby boo?

Daddy did love you, my little baby boo
But you can’t give what I want like my masters do.
I can always make another naive fool like you.
So if They asked me to destroy you for an infinite times or two,
you know exactly what I would do. Don’t you, baby boo?

Overthrowing Fists
               Part 2 : JungleContemplate

Big mound of lion dung,
beneath the big-leaf tree
grown around malicious den
               of a pride of lions,
monkeys in jungle surprised
not for various bananas
are what they’re after,
though odor in the air oddly stung

Fast food swallow by the hoot-hoot
               & was forgotten;
then it begotten a little mofo
               called MaOLay
who never knows how to hoot
yet has great dexterity
               in how to loot
for he has his team named
               “FOMO of mofo”
consisted of loads of locos.

Out was one scouring the mud path
his barefeet stamping in a crinkled piece
               of litter from processed food,
Stride not to the pond nearby
for ashore lake drink in group
having croc in muse : food?

Big cats just ran off snoozed
               stooped only to themselves
yet starved-short-fuse in haywire mood,
deprived desolated feelings oozed. . .
pounce a lion to playful monkeys
grabbing bananas yet pee from atop is all it gets,
               sad humongous pussy cat

Its lair nearby the color of rust,
trust he in him still though no hair in butt,
               he went hut. . . hut. .
While scores of monkeys munching bananas
taunting hungry humongous pussycat,
the others in the pride stride,
               hide & waiting to dive in
on those bananas-munchers
               yet huge pussyfoot
ain’t puss in boot, so no loot.

How a old colonial robber
forget those ways to squeeze its juice
out of the hill dwellers,
               tree-climbers;
the gray leaves of the teak forest
rustled like a ghost was passing through,
               a tremendous feeling of hunger,
even a pride of lions tread on carefully
               a bit dreaded, embedded
in the saddest part of forest
are numerous beheaded serpents
with all the bodies shredded,
looming up the atmosphere,
               the scent of death;
all the lions, for a while,
forget how to take proper breaths. . .

Their tails wriggle still
               in the ponderous mud puddle,
Like some wicked ladles in hairs,
paired not bodies and minds,
to each other gave fierce animals’ glare. . .
Following the swoop of the eyes,
almost like the Nike swoosh,
children with their hands amputated
               float on in an air image, was it,
a distant memory while factories
               of garments still
               can fetch a viss of gold. 

Holding on to power without soul,
a ghost tell anotherGhost aJoke :
when you’reDead, don’tExpectTheDeadertoTellTheDeadestTale ‘BoutYouOrYourDaDaforNoPhantomOfHorror
NeedsPatheticHonor from aFuckingJoker.

Don’t cling to death as the solution of pain,
               thought he who could not die again, 
A call out from a monkey
like the death rattle of a human being.
Shifting with the wind the spindly legs of centipedes
               crawled across the dirt mounds,
tracks where paw prints from a pride of lions,
their scent like the sweetness of gasoline,
stamped all over the countryside,
               and on the minds of the people;
a fundamental lie of governance,
               their colonial symbolism like a brand of terror.

Famished pride of lions roam around
               not so far from the lake,
bake they ideas of team play on some prey
               they can take;
monkeys slippery off the branch
               can they wait?
Or lions’ meal they’re gon make,
               yet they almost break.
Hear the snapping of the teak,
Grass thick in deep mud
camouflage ought not be caught
coz nothing but buzzing flies
               and bugs fuzzing
along a mudpuppy feeding
               on dead lion’s meat
               that’s left;
too bad for the big cat
who tread on strange water,
thought it’s a bar tap;
brought it a far slap
               in a jar of death
smothered breathless
till finally the king of jungle
               kicked the bucket.

Overthrown like a helmet,
               is this the flag one bears;
does one choose to die for symbols
               masking true intentions,
Bearin’ with swellin’ agony in head
for the stench of the lifeless catches
all big jungle cats in the wrapped bundle
               of stress in search of prey,
annoyed-empty-stomach-frayed. .
a wave from overseas, the fabric drifts,
               is you a mast me dear, avast,
Put a vest on, lad: said a cat to another cat. .

Bay thoughts of pain, day hot rot game,
               play sought not gain,
lions in jungle oddly lame, rained
bought gods shamed on mighty predators, say :
fought caught rain be same lot tamed
gay sort of huge cats and their honcho?
Monkeys nibble soft fruits from above
playfully shouts : Too stinky you bozos,
               get a fuckin’ poncho!

Burning Home 

I ran alone out my burning black home
of my own hammered heart and battered bones,
of scattered slashed skins
and daggered dead dreams— 

I ran alone out my burning black home
grown out of my dismembered childhood sown,
butchered by cannibal scars
that smothered my cranial stars— 

I ran alone out my burning black home,
a pome that thrived on the bloody meat loam
nourished by my screams
and the sadist’s whims— 
A grin on my skin, felt, as I spin
my neck to look back at my ruined home.

“As a reporter in places of upheaval all over the world [writes John Pilger], I have learned to compare the evidence I have witnessed with the words and actions of those with power. In this way, it is possible to get a sense of how our world is controlled and divided and manipulated, how language and debate are distorted to produce the propaganda of false consciousness. When we speak about dictatorships, we call this brainwashing: the conquest of minds. It is a truth we rarely apply to our own societies, regardless of the trail of blood that leads back to us and which never dries.” [John Pilger, Julian Assange Must Be Freed, Not Betrayed]

Propaganda as a Language of Power

“Like an infant that has not yet smiled.
I droop and drift, as though I belonged nowhere.
All men have enough and to spare;
I alone seem to have lost everything.
Mine is indeed the mind of a very idiot,
So dull am I.
The world is full of people that shine;
I alone am dark.
They look lively and self assured;
I alone, depressed.
I seem unsettled as the ocean;
Blown adrift, never brought to a stop.
All men can be put to some use;
I alone am intractable and boorish.
But wherein I most am different from men
Is that I prize no sustenance that comes not from
the Mother’s breast.”
-Tao Te Ching, Chapter 20

Propaganda, perhaps not only in inverted totalitarianism, follows a dialectic.
This may be because language itself follows a dialectic, and propaganda is the language of power.
It is a language in the sense that it is a narrative. The narrative is also instilled immediately into the subject’s brain through a process of indoctrination. Thus the absorption of propaganda is not unlike the way a language is acquired. As a culture would be acquired with a language; as a subject of the nation-state, so too does one acquire its language of power.

Note: (1) Inverted totalitarianism is a form of grassroots totalitarianism where power originates from the ground up as in the oedipal family unit. (2) The oedipal family unit is a family grouping with sex repression functioning as a form of power formation, ultimately patriarchal, which formulates power as a privilege of ownership and authority; dependent on the atomization and inequality of family members effectively fractured by the State, and forced to sell their alienated labor, taking the form of an ideology of becoming “self-sufficient,” i.e. taking a spouse and reproducing this cell of authoritarianism being at the root of a so-called oedipal conflict.

Dispatches from Heuristic Halo Press #7

The Powerless
               by Zo

We were born into this–
toils of tangled gods’ maws
gnawing us raw
as we wiggle and crawl
on top of each other
like fish out of water. 

Nothing sprouts from our barren faces
no eyes to cry, no mouth to shout
and wail as the gods’ acid spit flays us alive,
naked red ready
for an eternity of their vicious brute bites. 

Shrieks of pain caged inside our larynxes
eat us from within;
our blood and self
chewed and churned to nothingness
whilst outside, our bones and flesh
crushed and burned into disfigured mash. 

Then the gods feed
on the juice their teeth have squeezed
out of every fiber of our meat.
our blood and tears, bittersweet
with the futile hatred for them we bleed
A gory feast that goes on for eternity. 

Then here we are—
a mammoth mush of battered bodies
and dismembered hands, feet
wrenched dry of any humanity
Our gods’ grisly feat. 

But we don’t die like free men do
in this teethed pit of spit and bodily goo.
That’s how these gods torture you.
We bud again from our broken bits
to be bitten and chewed anew.

Overthrowing Fists

Part 1 : LakePonder

Soldier of self-abuse,
Used by the frog chieftain
among frogs in the lake,
               ripples made;
on the silver sheen of the surface like gunmetal
burn subtle the souls of brutes in battles of lakeside,
while a frog jumps in,
               & swim to the middle

The size of the waves looked like a knife
               used to cut off the legs 
Only dead rot the amphibians
               and frog chief wouldn’t care less
Generations of the gentle creatures had become
               foam in the belly of
               a monstrous crocodile. 
Lines of each individual’s
               freedom crossed 
Captain frog head
               in the clouds fogged 
Thought everything can be bought like a boss 
Sought he not in his own frog’s belly
               and ask what’s lost


Contemplation half-way jumped the crocs
               at the entire army of frogs
               till chieftain realized
some thing cannot be bought.
What violations of serenity in a pond
               where green was once the color of life, 
yet too many green frogs suffocate the very life
               out from under yourself,
and an infinity of soul-crushing soldiers as frogs
               would never be enough, to squash
               our freedom-loving struggle,
this blood-thirsty ignorance shall see nationwide reverse. . .

Converse the universe of brutality
in the heads of frogs with weapons
               in lake pristine
               near those mountain
ranges by the river of life
Till all their thoughts flow out
               in the open water
               defenseless yet serene
The mountains reflected in the sharp knife
               of the lake upside down became
               jagged rows of the dictatorship
Commander lost-marble gave out command :
               lunatic fickle in the face of religious label;
               brutally, heads penetrated by fire metals
in concrete jungle, yet army-owned news on TV
               one-sided fabled

Rainforest tropical from the south to the west
               up the ranges to the north till we go east
and also in the middle : said playful otters to each other. .
going further, frogs know not better;
               for the rightfulness of mind and act is best together

ii

Strategize, neutralize damage in water,
otters scattered networks of defensive
& offensive packs in the lake green shore,
though it not clean leading foul water to the middle
               yet if need be there could always be battles,
settle differences and all unjust acts through the right tactics
               rather than might mad click of metal amid misery

Misery, like the kind hovering over mass graves,
               a bloody massacre of their green bodies ripped to shreds
in a bloodlust rage of the crocs; 
Hushed not by his own FrogConscience,
general power-thirstFrog fat flat sat
               on his butt yet let the other frogs rat-tat-tat-tat. . .
met croc the brute mess not in water made foul
               so oiled-skinned otters pack up
yet fatso FrogChiefGenerals led by TheUnscrupulousGeneral,
               Ruthless. .

               were days on end,
not only this cycle that fattened the stomachs
               of a regime gone blood-blind; 
but so too to accuse electedButterflies of fraud
               on baseless blunt cockiness, O. . . .
FrogGeneral wanna-eat-power, voracious. .
               moral fibers & every molecule
               lifeless in shamelessness.

Only problem was
with this characterization of butterflies,
               numb-nuts and the full power
               of its propaganda machine
was goin’ around sayin’
they were actually Death-head moths.
See the thing about that is
every single fucking creature on the planet
especially anarchist frogs or at least
the common peace loving people
have goddamn fucking eyeballs.

Yet to make brutes see beauty in truth
               ain’t always been smooth;
nonetheless, sight we have not
               even though no one’s life’s futureproof?
               “Exterminate all the brutes,” has always been
a common maxim among the ruling class box of tools,

and “do we not see cruelty with every creature?”
               should be asked often to ourselves if we ain’t fool :
said the FrogChief to his army
               An army’s an army.
               Hence all the world
must bow to our own conception
               of human nature. 

               Right, human nature. . .
what do you think of us, peculiar savage nature :
ChieftainFrog retorted unnurtured
The untutored, the unwashed,
Bags of theft-cash packed
FrogChieftain thought he might have left,
swag yet croc & otters ain’t done having frog-snacks
soft splash in between jaws raw fat exploded,
               oily mouthwash

               in There was the Lake,
how to fight against its swelling waters in the monsoon 
As frogChief panic, butterflies in its stomach
               one thoughtless traitorFrogSoldier
gave an unexpected bullet penetrated
               the Chieftain’s right temple
through left, putting the GreedyGeneral
               to eternal rest. . . . Hush. . .

billions of lifeforms sprung up
               in a rainbow formation.
We are the regiment for Life.
We shall be taking over now,
dear sweet corrupted General,
               how sad.

               ripped and swallowed,
numerous frogs in serene water
               near many rocks,
advanced otters & croc,
met not chieftain for he
               marbles lost and hop. . . hop. . hop.
Till he on his deathbed will he stop . . . . Aye. . .
what the fuck the deceased gon be if he still hop
               not sleep stop? : asked a loco mob

Frenzied like the monsoon waters, 
Nah. . . Chieftain exported byRussianMobAs
               toastedAmphibian to ChinoShop :
said a RedMofoLunaticBliss at the bus stop.
Awaiting a signal like them trains
which always run on time in Western Fascisms, 
               Panic ensued GreenFrogChief
then got swept away by his own greed
to leave no print in the sands of time;
Organized otters, however, glide with ease
even in filthy water

               dark green polluted by dead frogs
and found themselves exhausted;
flock above the lake were famished vultures,
occasionally snacked down along shoreline
               of lake on dead frogs ‘fore they rot,
or just when they’re rot enough as the birds’
               snacks in filthy water broth.

TO BE CONTINUED IN DISPATCHES FROM HEURISTIC HALO PRESS #8!

Cult of a Colonialism called “Liberty”

               Our life
is your entertainment,
we are the lumpenproletariat.
We are the refugees
               of endless wars,
we are the rent paid
               to your mortgages.
We are the disempowered
               statistics,
we are “we the people”
               with an asterisk,
Human in quotation marks.
We are the loose change
               donated that relieves
Protestants of guilt,
we are the infinitude
               of suffering on display
at a never-ending protest.
We are the bums of global
               capitalism.
We only ever get heard
               after we’re gone,
After the illegal operation
               wasn’t explosive anymore
               & got declassified,—
we’re the ones who
               didn’t get a memorial
               after we were bombed,
we are the ones who
               you refused to say
               even got bombed.
We are the refugees
               of the bomb,
               of our circumcised
               peace movement,
Of executed civilians
               who are terrorists
Because we don’t have
               a State.
I am a refugee of your State,
               O Lady Columbia, you cult!
And what else is a cult,
               but a conspiracy?
Ms. Columbia, you greatest
               of conspiracies;
Stealing the land right
               out from under
               Life’s nose,
With the ideology
               of a war machine
               from overseas!

When a throbbing fear invades my mind, 
Roses of divine, in time,
               bestowed thorny rhymes;
Structures like a shell spiraled,
Deconstructive at sea viral
Waves of the hand, pearly nets
Though stormy the fisherman drag
A lone crab. Jellyfish sparkle
at sea deep, no hurdle. . .

for a sun blooming red
               above the twinkling sea.
Dark blue dotted by colorful diamonds
               framed by the sky, free
in the times before history began,
               a value higher than currency, 
truth be not in part of nurturing minds;
               the mightier, legendary?
Textbook hypocrisy or red book theory!

All text is a double value,
memorization is indoctrination,
theories are statues made of the once living.
Who could force the youth to conform,
and all their hopes and dreams, on an exam,
on the tyranny of social status,
               be based upon?
As in a harp played by a lady in Bagan,
strings don’t begin to make mellifluousness
unless struck by individuals
               with manual dexterity;
How then can the poverty-stricken golden land
               of Myanmar ever be sweet again?
              will we ask our teachers in exams?

It is the divide between teacher and student,
the singer and the song, for all are one;
no sweetness can come out of a singer
imprisoned for singing out,
               not in beauty alone,
but in speaking these truths. That
if you divide us into privileged classes
               and race, poverty and misery,
though wealth and power,
               do follow. 

Hollow in universe of learning
be the freedom of curious minds;
indoctrinated are we much
by the dead through time,
‘fore we resign from the diverse earth,
what do we genuinely feel at heart
after being poured with old ideas
               in the dark?

How ultimately be human
               race saved at last?
               We are vessels,
like the cosmos itself is,
               empty like a cup.
Bottomless potential for creation,
stifled by the Pharaohs,
who rule us by death
               through their Legacy.
Are their dusty wraps as real
               as the Statues proclaim,
or does it all fall to dust
               but return again.

What returns being potential to build it up.
But manias for Legacy govern us,
               as always. If we Fear,
that death will come,
               and remove us
               from our Mummies.
Hence stripped every pyramid
yet do we find kindness
               in humankind?
ask the thorny roses
               to whoever is divine.

Cruelty we find among the so called gods,
               a human is a rational animal,
so the ancient Greeks supposed.
If we can’t show compassion
               to every creature,
from the smallest flea,
to hugest divinity,
               what Good are we?
Within our own selves,
               does divinity not exist?
ask the fisherman to the sea
               sparkling with jellyfish.

A baby dolphin keels over in blood.
The fisheries fatten on change,
the human diet craves its holy menu.
Are they not beings as we are beings?
Whose net but the net of industry?

Slash of robbery on the blue planet
witnessed by some yet greed
               blanketed the truth;
Hush not truth by the bloody nets,
for in every soul there’s a seed at rest.
I eat myself, thinks the Dragon
               Ouroboros.
Self is this selfsame illusion.
And the net of industry transformed
               into the net of Indra.

For “I” is a mere speck of dust
               in the sands of time:
said the fear of Self at sea
               to the rest of burnt cinder
on many boats been afar. . .  . . .

“Arrogating to themselves the resources that are the common wealth of our planet, the capitalists grind us into a poverty that denies us the right to live. Not that the State punishes them for it: worse still, it protects them through a battery of laws. […] Without the State and its laws, we would have real freedom: without the capitalist class, we would have real equality. Friends of the world of labour, can you see just how free a society rid of all authoritarian power would be?” Ba Jin (巴金).

MORE POETRY COMING FROM ZO IN ISSUE #8, AS WELL AS THE CONTINUATION OF “OVERTHROWING FISTS”!

CONTACT MARSHALL AT HEURISTIC HALO, OR ALEX AT ascottbuch@yahoo.com, IF YOU’VE GOT SOMETHING YOU’D LIKE TO SAY!

Dispatches from Heuristic Halo Press #6

I cross the way

As you fall
               in the 1810s
a new century
               arises.
Call of the spirit
               of Tecumseh,
               of Geronimo
Dancing ghosts;
               if history as, why
wouldn’t it continue
               on cosmically,
Extends into the heavens,
               then in truth,
One day we shall overcome
               these earthly dominions,
Shooting star.

i

Sky rained not clear;
drizzle billions, not downpour
How does each bead of the monsoon link up,
Dressed up Elf asked. . . then in the backyard : click, clack. .
Nickety-nack with the gnome goin’
on about subterranean bee’s wax

Taxed in the nuts up from the government of animal kingdom to squirrels. . . through old-fashed fax
The paper squeaked through,
‘who xeroxed they nuts on this goddamn photo-booth?!’
While numerous general skunks boozed-slapped each other;
drunk confused, funny pics oozed
Caught with their military fatigue pants down,
how many goddamn generals it take to screw in a frickin’ halfway decent society, not go around killin’ folks, by gawd

brought the generals’s father’s daddies in Japan in some forest witless since the English screwed ’em over thoroughly
Buggering each other thoroughly and the planet too and all its inhabitants, and calling it Civilization
Realization of schmucks in the jungle wasn’t quite the idea yet at the time. . .

Civilization has created our concrete jungles,
where war and poverty and suffering and misery are the fruits of it
Bit by bit, clouds drain from above for a whole day;
squirrels wondering question: what civilization?
Can I sell deez nuts for a Porsche?

What’s posh is the nature nurtured not by rods, not?
Or would squirrels rather drive a McLaren in jungles?
All creatures have a car farting up the ozone,
oh no now the rain falls a Civilized Brown
Game of crown played in the animal kingdom found by a shepherd;
later sold the game idea to a fame-famished clown who breeds lots of skunks

This odoriferous code, a trinity of programming language,
hieroglyphic beginnings start on square one in the pharaoh dreaming of eternal life, eternal Rule 
Blew in the cool breeze of moonsoon
when a wizard named MickeyMouse pass gas : Buzz!
Fuzzy Dumbo then the Trademark put a sleep in all the people’s eyes,
can you smell that smell,

Belle then asked the Beast : did you just break wind?
No not I, said the fair Prince, while that stupid fucking candlestick was like, ‘aw fuck’
Who utter the F word?! : yelled Duck the Donald.
Ol’ Grandaddy Scrooge! His flappy orange hairpiece eclipsing the sun,
and Farts ruled for a century. 

ii

Really? Who’s the grandpapa of that orange moron? :
asked Pooh Winnie who was made in China.
Winnie Winnie Winnie can’t you see,
sometimes the Dragon Lord hypnotize me

Hypnotic KungFu Panda jumped in and he went :
I am the dragon warrior. . . wu. . ha ha ha. . .
Monkey King grow out of the rock on the hill,
enlightened with Tao,
no you are the emptiness of your Dragon Mind

It’s time you dine with your bananas, bro! :
cried the Pig to the Monkey. : & we’ll talk about Dragon Mind
after we get rid of some snakes, eh? : he added. . .
Fall one banana. Grown to the size of crescent moon.
No a helical serpent. ‘I am goddess of wisdom.’

Crimson creek in concrete jungles wonder :
why does she not make the water pristine with her wisdom?
For God came, binding her with power lines,
pyramids of skyscrapers, and banished her to the ancient books. 

Divine not God, for banishment’s not
what a true deity would attempt if he or she’s good
Indeed for Jesus the Conqueror in the name of All that is Good,
kicked the shit out of all His enemies.

Believe or be good or will he be
his own enemies? : is the question we need.
One’s enemies are also one’s self, ah yes
for the true conqueror first overthrows
the violence in one’s self!

How often do we reflect our selves
from the inside? : ask ourselves.
Which is the true mirror : the mind,
or the Endless Yearning of Farts
to be smelt and dealt, out of a Screen?

Algorithm

We are born into a world that
               cites as facts
the absolutism of the reflecting
               screen,
that the imbecile omniscient
               has their proof!
And all is everywhere
               no more a miracle
               than tuned, programmed.
All is confirmed forever
               in the absolute mundanities,
Even the last revolution
               passed without much thought,
Till even the reality
               of thought goes
               debunked,
Leaving us in the fantasy
               of our clockwork
               universe.

Ghosts of fallen souls risen again holdin’ branches of flowers poking the soldiers’ & the generals’ conscience 
To see if the murderers have hearts & souls who hold the oath to protect yet destruct 
The very people who employed them to avert danger fallen to the country 
Now look at us, do we still need this self-destructive army?
No. . . blood we can still breathe. . so, please. Breathe. . . . deep. .

I read a book about the
meaning of life in my dreams,
While keeping me hands clean
amongst monstrous scream. . .
Me felt a wave of energy,
like a roar of a ghostly train, 
Enter terrain of bloodthirsty
creatures draining crimson
from atop, insane.

My mind squirmed in its hold,
desperate not to catch the disease, 
Oh please : said the crazy monkey
to whoever with the disease. . .
               breathe. .
The breath was golden light,
confusions began to clear, 
Fear not, dear : send the message
from the book : for over this territory,
               there’s beer;
Brews of intoxicating amber color,
ideas and words blurred,
a Oneness of existence
               fermenting;
Bluntness in honesty rewarded not
by people with integrity :
said the Whiskey to Fermented Liquor. . .

Now the booze was talking to each other,
the Beer said to the Whiskey,
what do you mean by a Reward,
what do you mean by Integrity?
Dependency on each other
are what they mean respectively,
dummy! : clowned the Whiskey
to Beer the dizzy, yet both in lunacy.

The dizzy and the lunatic,
relieved in their passing gas
naturally, though then were
approached by the
Drug Administration : No,
one can’t be farting here,
to the dungeon with ye!

No. . . no. . no. No off they go
somewhere else for the breaking
of wind without being heard or seen
yet they make sure the gas
is thoroughly smelt.
And we were tagged
with a birth certificate,
endless government documents.
A celestial bureaucracy which
watches us from birth to death.
Face analyzing software or rather,
can and bottle analysis, found
the Whisky and Beer in a crowd. 
Big Brother say : There is a structure
in life we create that denies the fact
of making a fart behind
               little White lying!

               Aye, here goes : poof. . .
& Whiskey goes : the other boozed
               can just passed gas!
Beer got gassed. Punishment of death.
Whisky got a bunch of Indians shit-faced,
then became an American President!

“There is only one path to happiness and we can only get there by overthrowing the following systems: 1. The state: [. . .] The state creates law to restrict our freedom; it forces us to fight against our peace-loving nature; it encourages us to compete with people of other nations while we are supposed to help each other. [. . .] 2. Private property: private property is the reward of pillage. Property was originally shared by all people. However, some men, either by using their intelligence or their strength, began to occupy public property or made many people homeless. They also began to hire people to work for them. The products that the workers produce are only enjoyed by their bosses. This is the most unjust example in the world. [. . .] 3. Religion: [. . .] Religion teaches us to believe in superstition while we should search for the truth; religion encourages us to be conservative when we should act progressively,” Ba Jin (巴金), 1921.

CONTRIBUTE? CONTACT ALEX AT ascottbuch@yahoo.com, OR MARSHAL AT HEURISTIC HALO.

Dispatches from Heuristic Halo Press #5

ValidateExploitFish plays in the PollutedInfoFoolLake with SystemicCrapCrammedShrimp and both of them enjoy MuddyShallowMarsh because they get to SwimDiveDeep together JollyFunGood

               M.

Like swimming in poison

the psychic atmosphere

of this eon,

               a dominant ideology

                              is hidden & toxic,

all one can do is remember

               to breathe deeply

And to, like a tree,

               suck up this latent toxicity

                              & produce a cloud

               of equanimity.

               A.

iLLpUNKuAted

Drifted off shore floor earth touched electrocuted by lightning
sky dark yet no rain . . .
Then heavens untamed. .
Pained waves of stormy sea strike as tsunami lives in agony
nonetheless the crazies can still find joy in miseries

               M.

A Haven Made of Memories

by Zo

Back when I was 4 or 5 years old, I used to sleep in my parents’ bedroom. There was something peculiarly cozy about that bedroom which still sends a warm soothing feeling down my spine whenever my mind wanders back into the elusive memory of it.
It was a small, windowless room directly beneath the only staircase of the house. It was so small the sides of the bed touched three of the four walls of the room leaving only a narrow space on one of its lateral sides that acts as an aisle between the bed and the only door of the room. Not only was the room particularly small and dark, it was also dimly lit with only one small electric light source that blankets the entire room with a comforting faint glow; all of these added to the whimsical atmosphere of the room.

Besides the observable features of the room, what also made it special are the memories tethered to it. I remember waking up late to the mumbled voices of the rest of my family chattering at somewhere that sounds far away from where I was snuggling amongst the piles of pillows and heaps of blankets. I also remember waking up early and listening to the distant sound of my mother’s gentle footsteps roaming around the house doing chores before dawn. I remember the crackling noise of the radio left turned on by my father who had already left for a morning walk. I can even remember the slightly rough touch of the cotton bed sheet and the tender fluffiness of the woolen blankets which I liked to mindlessly caress with my small palms and feet. In the mornings when it was raining, I would nestle inside the embrace of the thick, soft blankets as the blurred cacophony of raindrops hitting against the roofs lulled me back into my nocturnal dreams. Some mornings, I would quietly read a book or a cartoon journal that I snuck into the room previous night under the poor white light of the room alone. However, some other mornings, my cousins who lived next to my house would sneak into the room and then we would have pillow fights and wrestle among the messy blankets as we laughed and shouted in silly voices. When I was sick, both of my parents would stay inside the room with me and I would crawl into my mother’s bodily warmth as I was listening to my father telling me stories he had read in the books.

Whenever I think of such memories, I can taste the bittersweetness of them for I know that I will never be able to recreate those memories ever again during the remainder of my life as much as I know that such is the very thing that makes these memories precious and special. Nevertheless, at least, the room with its memories will always be a haven inside which my inner child can snuggle up among its wrinkled bed sheet and piled blankets whenever I want to escape from the overwhelming hustles of life no matter how many years had passed.

ChildJoyRide 

A crow with uneven feathers at its wings
Took flight
Like a kid in delight fly a kite 
With a kitten by his side
Oblivious to all things aside
Obliged not to any adults ‘coz he knows not wrong or right
Fight for his own joy wherever he might 
Till he finds in a park, a slide 
Much of oozed joy, what a ride!

MarsDust, 8:09, 30 June 2021

               M.

In the screened porch

The paradise of inside

for a stray

               cat,

what’s in there but

               clammy solitude?

O the world is yours,

               unowned feline.

Why gaze through the window

               into the emptiness of the

                              human

               isolating; what desires

Are to be believed fulfilled

               in these animal cells?

Your fur is dusty,

clinging cobwebs from repose

in a shadowy nook.

Your tail curls up in

the window reflected.

Did you find your worms

that ate the rodent,

               little bird?

               A.

Insein the panopticon
which shades our brains like a Giant-Eye
Defiant individuals slain behind bars
Yet asked the remaining freedom-lovin’ ones: How far?

How far is control willing to go to punish defiance,
making those who fight to be free or those who wait
and see believe they have it already, lining their
prison cells the idea in the punished brain, “I am free,”
those who fight against it will Punished be.
Pen fished in papers and questioned the heated brain
to the punished and the murdered: is it near?

Distance seems to blur, the pen seems a sword
of power dangling precariously above my head,
my thoughts are they near to the Truth I seek,
or does this Image on the screen
pull me deeper into the Money Magic Machine?
Funny tragic “Kaching,” pulled by slick billionaires
with pandemic states of minds, sick frisked in time
and we still know what we are deep down
so tell our selves: fear not dear. . .

Hope but not the phony Wall Street Obama
doin’ drone strikes on our brothers and sisters kind,
pardoning Chelsea Manning who sits in prison again,
how not gone Insein
Assange deprived of his mind 24/7
and thank you Mister Trump!
While I can feel it, the souls of the murdered
Became an image,
a memory, this has happened before
O to all the young & old proletariat, 
Freedom Fighters committed to nameless graves
or Numbered of an asylum
Still Kaizen is what drives ’em
citizens be citizens in responsible selves
and despite laws flouting itself though times are tough;
then ask our selves: how well can we preserve what
we value while still holding our lives on the line. . . .

O the flower of life worth preserving,
O everyone creating resistance to Tyranny
& beauty in their life-lines of Art & Poetry
O get me out of this Pandemic State!
of mind, of body, of Soul,
Your sickness generates more profit
& control part of
like a global chessboard Monopoly game,
I’m going Stateless, son
we all Live under the holy light of yon up there Sun,
O light which shines the disinfectant of All
Peoples working together in global cooperation 
Not your sick Corporations, son!
Bits of demonic gold rain down from the crimson sky
and will we clink the clank or will there be any fair trade
of pure air for gold just for us to breathe?
Metallic breezy evening carried with it
an eerie helplessness. . .
still hope ablazed. Burning. . .

Seas rise like the Creek, will We?
Breathe. . survive. . . thrive. . . build we hives
fight not caused till all our wits lost,
cross we boundaries of thoughts at times.
Blinded and fold ‘fore we go, into the hell hole
boldly some gave lives, some gave others hope. . .
some survive. . . but mostly hope.

               A & M.

Nmko

Thy smoked finely wrapped tobacco
Chewed in red nuts packed in betel leaves
Breathe in moist air on the bridge across the green creek
fecund with different breed of fishes & birds
Then walk thy across the street deliver looks of fury
on thou betel chewing visages
Yet laymen choose their attention in turning the pages
which seemed to take flight by rages
of flapping wings above still water
Why ask we not ourselves to reason out of blind faith
paying homage to only the creator within us, without
breaking trust to our own selves? Take a deep breath.

               M.

(a)
The illusion of progress is a carrot on a stick
that masks the possibility for immediate justice
in the present.

(b)
Life has no meaning in words alone.
For only words can mean, whereas life can merely be.
And yet being has a meaning singular to itself.
Hence all words are a metaphor.
Language has precisely the same function as
symbols do in a work of literature.

               A.

SnotBoogerStickyMaskBabe yelled at BlurryDirtyWrinkledFaceshieldTom when he was about to go for groceries shopping: Don’t forget to put on your NewMaskWithFaceshield so you won’t die! 

               M.


Got anything to contribute? Contact Marshall at Heuristic Halo, or Alex at ascottbuch@yahoo.com.


%d bloggers like this: