Smoke Get's In Your Eyes...

...

I should stress none of this behaviour I referred to in 'Default Setting' is our fault. 

We are a species under extreme pressure. 

You can feel it.  I think we all do. 

This kind of selfish human behaviour means we are getting down to the wire, and the consequences of this pressure upon us will manifest in our conduct like night will follow day. 


Hard times breeds hard people.

People with mental illnesses living homeless on the street?

Are you kidding me?

That's punishment for being sick.

& it's silly as hell.


The world has gone mad. 

And if you think I'm going to join the New Agers in their 'Circus of Denial'...

Sit cross legged in a circle and pray the hate away...

Forget about it. 


I can't see it.


So...you see...

Human unreliability is not a jolly hobby;

it's tactical necessity. 


Anthropology 101. 

Survival.

Scarcity.


Co-operation is becoming- and has been for some time- a thing of the past.  

In this world of profit, consumerism and every man for himself...

Hmm.


I would like to think love will prevail...

but my money is on the utter savagery.


I can see glimmers of it in my eyes,

You can read it like a large-print book.

 A kind of desperation.


as I struggle to find some...
 
Sense of community. 
 
Belonging.
 
We have made it a little hard to find.


In a bar in downtown Montreal the other night...I was chatting with someone in a setting which is about as close as most city people come to some kind of communion.

We both agreed...most, if not all human beings are looking for...


Connection.

And we are not finding it.


And this is making them angry.

The way things are is making ME angry.

I think it might be driving us a little nutso.


I don't 'hate people'. 

I can't do that. 


I hate what has happened to us.

And I can see it in people's eyes.

In my eyes. 


Looking at the photos of me marching against Monsanto.

They look tired. 

It has been a long hard struggle.


So we march...

Are unified in the common cause for as long as it takes to get from one part of the city to another...


Then we all go home again. 

I looked at the photos of the day...

Looked into my eyes...

They look tired. 


I think I'm running out of hope. 

Like Werner Herzog said, 'running out of fantasy'.  


That miracle I promised you? 

A few months ago?

I told you I believed I could find a miracle.

A place to belong.

A sense of...community.  


Frankly?

I think it's my own personal Santy Clause. 

Insanity Clause. 

It's like turning your back on science to worship fantomas. 


Smoke and mirrors.


I am turning into a smoke person.

I am one of the smoke people.


A zombie, looking for...

a miracle...


& it has turned into my own personal cautionary tale. 


I'm running on fumes now...

& all I can hope for now is a soft crash landing.

Somewhere...