Archive for the ‘apocalyptic’ Category

is a narrative about narratives of historical meaning, experience or knowledge, which offers a society legitimation through the anticipated completion of a (as yet unrealized) master idea. (wikapedia)

As I study post-modern philosophy I am struck by the parallels between the (old) (faith-based) narratives such as “Christianity” and the current metanarrative of the “Enlightenment”. I suppose these parallels work like blanks which need to be filled in, and thus they reveal the underlying psyche of human thought:

We need an origin story: Christian = Genesis,
Enlightenment = Evolution/Big Bang

We need an end times/apocalypse: Christian = Revelations,
Enlightenment = Ecological collapse

We need authority: Christian = priests, kings, god
Enlightenment = scientists, rational thinking

We need a mission: Christian = repentance, purity, servitude
Enlightenment = freedom, discovery

We need to be winning: Christian = converting non-Christians
Enlightenment = eradicating non-rational thought

We need an other: Christian = demons, devils, ghosts
Enlightenment = extra-terrestrials

And now my reader may be outraged at the length my broad-stroke thought experiment has been stretched to. How does the enlightenment produce aliens? One could argue that the image of the alien or E.T. was only possible and manifested when the world conscious hit a critical mass of rational thought and technological advances made them ‘imaginable’. Basically it goes “we need ghosts” – “we don’t believe in ghosts anymore” – “obviously technological advancement is our endgame human potential so clearly there exist beings that have reached it before us”.

As a side-note, I had a long conversation one night with a friend in Taipei who was very much a ‘citizen’ of the ‘enlightenment’. By this I mean he held to the narrative that rational thought and freedom is the potential of human beings and that it will ‘solve our problems’, basically I could tell he ‘thought science was cool’. I proposed my idea that science is simply the new religion of the masses and he was outraged. He insisted I could not compare the two because one is based on facts and rationality and the other is based on faith and lies. We had a very constructive and heated debate over beers in a park into the wee hours of the night.

I don’t recall my exact counter argument, though I do recall making him aware of his emotions, how ‘into defending science’ he was and how it sounded similar to a believer defending their religion. He was even proud that his home country of England had a statistic of more than fifty percent of people being non-religious. Which only made it sound more like his side was winning a new crusade.

Also on the topic of ‘not being allowed to compare the two’ because ‘one is based on fact and the other on faith’. I find that to be a moot point. ‘Facts’ are only a legitimate currency within the metanarrative of rational thought. Just because one side doesn’t need to use that currency, does not make it impossible to compare. I can still image the Punisher fighting Dr.Strange even though one of them uses guns and the other uses magic. I constantly find ‘science-lovers’ trying to bring the scientific method into discussions about human politics, but testable objective truths have less of a place in these discussions. Our weapons here should be personal experience and imagination (with a limited amount of rational thought, I will admit, obviously).

As the reader can probably tell by now, I try not to believe in the metanarrative of the enlightenment. I find the mechanical ‘Newtonian’ view of the universe extremely boring. I find peoples ‘faith’ in science and rational thought to be dangerous and depressing. These are heretical things to say and feel. Often in groups of new (actually even among my old friends) and at work I feel like I have to ‘stay in the closet’ with my personal view of the universe. Also, since I am a ‘sensitive’ and ‘intuitive’ human, I actually find it a struggle not to fall into their narrative of ‘science is cool’ when society (advertising, media, the water-cooler) is doing it’s best to shove it down my throat.

So you may be wondering what my personal metanarrative is, am I Christian or some New Age hippie? Not quite. I do appreciate the mythos of Christianity and all faith-based traditions (and the messiah narrative resonates with me since I exist within (scientists would say ‘suffer from’) a messiah-complex). But I try to see the world as a creative process. Personally I believe I am a god, or have an energy that could be called Christ-consciousness, atman, creativity, whatever, and that I created this world (and continue to create it) in order to experience it. I am not completely soliptic, if you asked me what I thought of other people and animals I would say that they are gods too, and I realize that this muddles the term.

So to return to the start, does my metanarrative reveal the above ‘psyche’ of the human condition? Of course. My origin story is all the experiences that have crafted my current existence. My apocalypse is my death, which I imagine at times and try to keep in my consciousness as a sort of final celebration or breaking forward into another reality. Do I have an authority? (muses? other artists or creators) An other? (well I do have a strange relationship with ghosts and aliens so I don’t quite know what that means, perhaps a bleed over from the other metanarratives surrounding me).

And now I come to the end of this post and I have no idea what the point of it was. It is a far stray from my usual poetry and madness posts. Perhaps I should start a separate philosophy blog? (oh god, not another blog page) Perhaps it is best to end with a Baudrillard quote:

“We no longer seek glory, but identity.”


Lost in the humid swirl of summer,
Hot sticky bike races to work-
Rooftop comedy with the pigeons-
Space empire card games online…

Wires cross, the devices,
They need to charge, be plugged in,
I need to charge, be bug skinned,
Life at the edge of delirium…

Two screens glow, two cursors,
The curse of uninspired existence,
Ennui late night doubts plague me,
Where did all the adventure go?

Evaporated, sated, high on oblivion,
Slinging booze and being slung,
Like a proxy of myself, printed out,
Ink faded and uneven at the edges…

Who is the ghost really? I haunt myself,
Summer is a sick parasitic skin I wear-
And it wears down on me-
The season that is dark in all its brightness…

I need to escape the city, its bounds-
I need to escape my room, myself-
My addiction to the screens, the cards,
The cards about screens and thievery…

Like rats I survive here, a conclave,
A court of owl-aliens, testing my dreams,
A video of a prototype robot haywire,
A drowning apocalypse street screamer…

Somebody give me my quarter back,
Somebody shake me back to sanity,
I need magic to fly an angel over the skyline-
So everybody finally sees the spaceships…

Concrete Contagion

Posted: June 25, 2014 in apocalyptic, grim future, urban

Jet streams cross the sky
Like mirrors shine the cars

It’s the Great Western Life
Pour the asphalt on our scars

We can refuel past our patience
Put a tie on blood stained shirts

Act as double blind secret agents
Love to codify sacred words

As the future generations
Feel the retroactive hate

Sprouting flowers of contagion
It’s the dream fires burned too late…

Are the plexiglass CANCER CELLS
That infect my city with a MOOD disorder
That everybody thinks it’s normal to look at me
And yell at me to stop juggling

I have the RIGHT of way! I am JUGGLING!!!
I am making the world a slightly sillier, more FUN place-
I make children and panhandlers smile
YOU have no right, Mr. Ford F150 slave!
All you do is pollute the air, endanger yourself
Give yourself road rage and blast HORRIBLE
DEHUMANIZING oppressive rap music.

I don’t like to pull the:
“Do you know who my father is?” card
But yeah, he works upstairs
And what makes me SICK inside
Is that this honking ignoramus
Knows exactly who our mother is
She’s the one you dared pave a road over
She’s the one you choke every morning
She’s the one you bleed for your luxury

And I’m just assuming that
If you’re this ANGRY at a man juggling
And slowing you down by a few seconds
I doubt you found the time to even THANK
Our mother today for the suffering
You have imposed on her

Well one day she will RECLAIM her skin
Her rushing tears
Will wash your demon-cab F150 away
With all the other vehicles of the LUCIFER PROJECT
And during the deluge
I will smile and juggle on a rooftop
While you CRY and PRAY for a helicopter

Revenge from the formless fears
that shape my hallucinations-
Creations of societies subconscious
undaunted by my attempts at meditation-
Mediating faceless gods angels tricksters
demons flickering blue light dreams-
Revenge of reality
pulled loose at the seams-
Seems these things are immune to reason
irrational monster invisible invincible-
I can no longer trust science
or skepticism as root principle-
My foundation is shaken
I seen to many things, aliens-
Too many attempts at success
have turned out to be my failings-
Like trying to communicate with
the other confused humans wondering-
Blundering through the night with
the drone armies of ghosts bombing me-
Till my brain is the wasteland of
fictions you reject as madness-
Produced by hands that scrawl out
poison tipped lines of the savage-
I have become the mythical trick
of the messiah complex-
And I will die of the overdrawn
cure of the experimental tonics-
It’s not so complex but it’s not so simple
living in a triple vibration-
Taking in the pain of my city
while the citizens scream for salvation-

here I come hurtling-
pissed off that you killed my luck dragon-
and picked the bones clean-
your minions have eaten-
the meat of my dreams for years-
here I come with the revenge of the meek-
for the meek shall inherit the earth-
with DARKWORDS and darker poetry-
you don’t know me-
walking the streets in front of your homes-
while my hatred grows cold and old-
like the god of death-
I breathe my first last breathe-
and exhale DARKWORDS and dark poetry-

Like the spark that started the night that
feuled the riot that stole all the bricks-
All the walls picked apart whole blocks
of the city reduced to open pits-
And the goblins come crawling out
calling out for their bum king-
Well here he resides atop his throne
mountain of bones and gold rings-
In the echoing wind tunnel of babies
crying for uncaring mothers-
I stock my hordes with your
transformed abandoned brothers-
Striped toques and fingerless gloves
wave a goblin skull banner-
Goggled eyes over sharp toothed
smiles laughing ill-mannered-

for being so cruel and imperfect-
turning my faeries to perverted activities-
you exist to twist my symmetry-
well I will split you with DARKWORDS and dark poetry-
hold no hope for me-
I bleed green acid twice as cancerous as your greed-
I bring three fold the corrosion of your corruption-
cause I’m thirty years old-
and all my fifteen year old angst has returned two-fold-
so behold your demise with DARKWORDS and darker poetry.

A. C. P. M. F.

Posted: November 14, 2013 in apocalyptic, heroes, politics, spiritual

I shouldn’t be writing this
I shouldn’t be saying this-
But lately I feel my internet
connection is dangerous-

Looking at the state of things
feel like it’s led to doom-
So I start to blog
the revolution from my bedroom-

A spiritual journey
in contact with aliens-
Sometimes it feels
like a seance inside my cranium-

Ripping through reality
like a tear soaked tissue-
A world where a messiah complex
is a mental health issue-

So I ask what kind
of world is this to live in?
Don’t think it can’t change
every change has a beginning-

Cause I’m seeing the matrix
the fabric of zeroes-
Dreaming my friends are
the next centuries superheroes-

In the post-economy
the post-democracy-
We will choose our leaders
by winning the lottery-

You might say I’m drug addled
you may claim my brain is sick-
Just because I entertain
a program of eugenics-

Sterilize the water
re-educate the next-gen-
Don’t give them pessimism
but a reflection-

Don’t shoot down the efforts
of a group of dedicated minds-
Even if we don’t reap the benefits
in our own lives-

Because change is inevitable
change is occurring-
While the pop stars and media
moguls keep discouraging-

The pain and suffering will
reach a critical mass-
Then the new children
will shake off the shackles of the past-

So join up in arms
holding hands instead of weapons-
As reincarnated spirit gods
with a thousand love lessons-

We can stop the bullying
and we can stop the bullets-
All it takes is a passion
and learning to control it-

Don’t tell me the human body
is limited by science-
That’s just a hegemonic ideology
to keep usĀ  compliant-

Cause when the people start to wake up
and listen to the skies-
The old structures will crumble
right before our eyes-




Posted: August 27, 2013 in apocalyptic, madness

you were born free?

try to keep it- before it

seeps into the abyss

of life and running

hearts drumming

head thumping- jumping

from one thing to another

too fast



die locked inside

a chasm sized box