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When Les Is MORE
...As In Visible

By Jim Kirwan
For those looking for a political article, this isn't one of those, at least not directly;
because this about the fabric of the unseen
That can sometimes knit our thoughts together,
Just to get some of us
Through the darkness that passes for the moment.  
Lately 'Visible' has been nearly word for word in my unconscious. Roaming around at will it seems.
"The force and presence of the moment lately has been remarkably intense. Maybe there are people somewhere who can measure and gauge it or interpret it in a way that makes it understandable but that isn't me. I'm in a cone of mystery, where nothing is as it seems and every approaching minute is around some corner wearing a fake nose, promising everything that can be imagined and delivering nothing. I can't imagine a greater intensity that could make everything tremble and shake like this without making anything happen at the same time."
"Time continues up or down the hard road of The Seven Ages of Man and now you notice that there's almost no one around and you realize you are spending huge chunks of time completely alone but it doesn't really bother you. For some reason you actually prefer that. You thought some point was going to arrive where you might get an explanation for all of the things you had been through and maybe even discover a portal or aperture that led into that world you always thought you would somehow disappear into but it hasn't happened yet. You wonder if you took some kind of a wrong turn back down the highway. You can't remember it having taken place. You don't know if it's just been strange or really weird. It definitely wasn't anything like the things you noticed everyone else going thru. You've arrived at a place where pretty much everyone else doesn't know where the door handle is and that is because things, objects and the material world had taken on critical importance without being worth anything at all."
"Occasionally you realize that at some point you are going to die or disappear and you think there's a strong possibility for the latter but you don't know exactly why you feel this way, you just do. You have no sensation of aging in anyway like what you see around you. You don't feel any particular age and your flexibility hasn't been affected at all. You live in a small town that came into being around the eighth century and most of the residents are on rails and seriously depressed because of bad history and the absence of spontaneous merriment."
Or you live in what the occupants call a city, but which in reality is nothing but an unmarked prison camp for the naïveté and the uninitiated, who actually believe that their city and their 'world' is the only thing needed to make the movie they are living in; into the reality they tend to believe it is.
"You're traveling through a dead zone of heavy atmosphere in a nation deeply in need of Prozac. You've given up telling them that everything they know about history is a lie and you're already stranger than anything they've encountered at any point in their life before until now."
"Sometimes you travel to different locations where you sit in restaurants, clubs or somewhere social and you study the world around you as if it were feeding time at the zoo. You never do get any kind of a handle on why you are so different from everyone else. You're hyper aware of any number of people staring at you but that's been going on for a long time. You have zero interest in just about anything that everyone else finds so important. In many ways, the world is some kind of Big Empty for you where there is no longer anything to pursue or desire. You know there's got to be something more but you have no idea which cabinet it's located in. You're not unhappy or troubled. You don't feel disappointed or left behind."
Sometimes you think there should be a reason for you to be apprehensive, uncertain, confused, something... but you're not, even though there sometimes seems like there are good reasons that you should but you've got those invisible friends and they've been telling you the same thing for so long that by now you believe them without question, although you have yet to see any sign of promised event."
Or you see for the thousandth time the exploding storefronts, the rows of the frozen traffic burning where they stopped without even a hint of fire trucks coming; because nothing can move in this daymare where the crowds are not-yet-screaming because they are too busy running, to waste any of the energy they need just to escape the hideousness that is now everywhere around them.
Then I stop that mental-tape and look around again to see the FEAR being displayed in so many tiny ways, among the empty shells,  and the enormity of this is in itself truly freighting; because this remains completely unknown to those that are so avidly chasing some elusive-something that will always remain unattainable.
And overall there is this sound, like the soundtrack from 'The Day of the Locust' (Hollywood in the twenties, where a young artist uses Goya and Michelangelo (from the wall of the Sistine Chapel, not the ceiling), to design a movie set that ends up becoming the nightmare that swallows the daylight and heralds the onset of that unwritten fear that walks with each of us everyday now.
"Sometimes you sit and wonder about people who become lawyers, politicians, just about any of the things people put such an investment in. You can't figure out how any of it became so important to anyone. You can't figure out how these people manage to take themselves so seriously. You're amazed at their capacity to drink themselves senseless for such an extended period of time. It blows your mind that they could have been married multiple times and stitched up with alimony, festering resentments and disaffected progeny, with money games going on like it was some kind of a heroin habit. You can see them dressed out in a box at some point surrounded by people who didn't like them but are now forced to search with great difficulty for something nice to say.
You've never met them but you know that there are people out there that sell munitions, who torture animals and people and others who are making unpleasant decisions about people and digging the power rush that comes with fucking up people's lives just because they can. You really cannot understand how such a large body of people bought into so many impossible lies or barbaric religions that engage in so many terrible activities against their fellows. Something's not right in Wonderland and it hasn't been for a long time. You can't understand how they are going to find their way out of all of this and you suspect that they won't. How can they voluntarily condemn themselves to such guaranteed suffering over such massive tracts of time? It's a mystery is what it is." (1)
Yes Les it is one of the major mysteries of this planet, because it is the one that will end us as a people, if we do not begin to find a way to deal with this. Nature's way seems to be very clear-they will die prematurely in any one of several very large events; not unlike those depicted on and beneath the columns of St. John the Divine, the "church" designed and built by the Masons for the Catholics in New York City-but in reality just like the murals in the Denver Airport, these images were made for everyone to see, so that they could know real terror. The kind of terror that is based on the horror of "not knowing" exactly when or where but only the interior devastation of the fact that death is coming ­ to them!  (2)
Thanks Visible for adding so much to what I can seldom put into words
1) The Big Empty Wasteland of indefinable Angst
2) Prophetic Pillars on St. John the Divine Cathedral?
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