the system is sick

I am becoming increasingly aware of the fact that we live within a broken system; a system paralysed by selfishness - the dominance of the consumer that surely is the result of the insidious spread of the market economy to all aspects of society; any reform pegged back by a disgusting onion of corruption all the way down. They say it is a swamp with many alligators; I say let us slaughter the alligators, drain the swamp, spread sand and become as gladiators, and battle for our interests.

Why should I hold my tongue on an issue, merely because it has come to pass that to criticise those who supposedly possess 'power' provokes a childish snatching and gathering of sovereignty in order to preserve some sort of internal face; how dare someone make a suggestion! This system is trapped in a terrible equilibrium; so long as people are too afraid of the repercussions of their actions to act, then the repercussions will hold the power, will remain terrible.

I intend to dig, and dig, and dig into the onion; surely there is a point at which one can turn the corruption in on itself, destroy it, improve the system if only in part.

motivation and the brick oven

Is lack of motivation a symptom of the lack of a significantly motivatory goal? Are people lazy, unmotivated, or blind; I believe that people are scared, scared of the vast blank space opening up before them which is fogged by uncertainty, an uncertainty of fixed goals, fixed objectives, resting points on the road. Or is it a road? Perhaps if there were a road it would be so much easier; is this why people subscribe to the notion of a 'career'? The illusion that their experiences can be grouped within a field known as 'work', and organised logically, chronologically, and segmented according to whose bitch you were at the time. Why is it that we organise and categorise our lives around who we are subservient to? Childhood, to our parents; education, to the whims of our professors; working life, to a stream of managers; old age and senility, to the limits of our own faculties.

Consider the stone, the brick; a stone hewn out of the rough rock around it; rough tools attempt to shape it but they must work within the natural properties of the stone - this argument has been made many times; the brick may serve many purposes - an antiquated building destroyed in wartime, then picked from the rubble to rebuild again and again; does this stone consider its career? Does it plan which building it would like to be involved in next ? - 'Ah yes, observe that grand facade across the street, how I'd long to be a part of that - and at the top! Oh, if only to see further that I might find a yet higher and grander building on whose pinnacle I can rest myself'. How sad!

back at last

Scopenhagen was briefly denounced as a spam blog by a Google robot, but is now back to life. Hooray.