Again, I feel lonesome on the day after an election. Lonesome because the ones I vote for win very seldom, and lonesome because I've seen ignorance used successfully for political marketing. This could be a transition time from appealing to our intelligence to appealing to our ignorance. It's been a long transition time, thirty-four years, that the master propagandists have appealed to below average intelligence. Easy targets. White Man is in crisis in democracy when Others have begun to outnumber White. This is where police state comes in. The South gives historical evidence that White Man outnumbered by Others will retain power by force and throw away democracy for racial control. All over the nation in this time White Man is facing the threat of being outnumbered by Others, emphasis on black Others. I was alarmed when I learned white people hate black people so much, to the point they're official targets to kill or imprison. A black president has threatened White Man more than population statistics are able. The white John Birch Society billionaires are saying, Aint no GDN gonna tell me what to do. It seemed ridiculous to me today that I made the decision to participate in the great American delusion, pretend democracy, again. Historically, police states are predictably popular in the early years. The more resistance grows, the more the black people are targeted, to keep the police popular, just like on tv. I see police brutality videos on facebook and mourn to see the videos as cop commercials saying to White Man, We got em under control. It makes great corporate tv and keeps the news exciting, hopeful.
It makes me turn further inward, turn away from the world Out There. I feel like the range of mountains where the Blue Ridge Parkway runs along the ridge is my Great Wall of Air Bellows, a half mile from home, beyond which is Out There, This side of that line people live with space between each other and enough forest to allow habitat to some wildlife. It seems like there is some balance this side of that great wall between me and the world of the false. Going inward to dream images of Home Sweet Home, like guided imagery. I have yet to do something I learned some years ago, though have only done it once. Put on some kind of music you resonate with, emphasis on relaxing music, classical, whatever. Sit quietly and imagine the most peaceful spot on earth you'd like to be. Start there, self in that place. I chose what I call the donkey meadow beside the house, when in that time the donkey shed was a chicken house. I feel good energy in that meadow. Now the meadow has donkey love energy added to it. This meadow is the place I would go to again, if I ever do a guided imagery again. The purpose is to allow the music to be the movie soundtrack to visuals that occur in the mind's eye, follow them as a story and see where it goes, follow it to the end of the music. Then write down the experience as something like a dream, which it is. If I remember correctly, it's supposed to have some woo-woo connected with it, like manifesting what you really want, something like that. I wasn't interested in it as something to do toward wanting. I was curious to see what it was. I found it gave me a beautiful story to follow, and by the time the music ended, I felt good about the story my subconscious mind made up spontaneously. I came away from it feeling like my interior self, the subconscious, or another way of naming it, the super-conscious, was in good balance and beaming with light. Perhaps my super-conscious mind would visualize a very different story if I'd put on the Murderdolls.
I feel so inward, I want to sleep. I want to close my eyes and flow with some music. Just happen to have a cd in the player by Malian guitar picker and singer, Carcar, accompanied by Ali Farka Toure. Yes, beautiful music is what my super-conscious wants. This is good music to flow with. The vocals flow beautifully. I closed my eyes and followed the music. I saw the musicians, saw their fingers picking their acoustic guitar strings, heard the vocals like sinuous colored silk flowing upward into the air above the trees into the sky, dancing to a subtle rhythm. A good change of mental imagery after seeing the Babylon the rest of the world wants to see fall, breaking down. I tell myself to listen to more music. In the classical realm, in this time of the life, I want to hear quartets of Brahms and Schubert, and quartets of Dvorak by the Alban Berg Quartet. I will listen to more music, keep in the cd player something I'm wanting to hear, like this one by Carcar of northern Africa. Want to hear the news, turn on the cd player and let it play. Turn all the more inward. I've taken to driving the back roads when I go anyplace. They have few other cars on them. They are the roads people live on, not the traffic roads. The veins, not the arteries. The back roads have better scenery. I have found that the world the way I like it is all around me, the reason I settled in my Blue Ridge Mountain home for the duration. I have the world as I am happy with it all around, this side of the great wall. Why look Out There at the horror show when I can look In Here at a community of people who think something of one another? The changes from generation to generation are happening here as they are happening there, all guided by television,
I must teach myself not to hope against the flow of history. Must allow historical destiny to run its course; first, because I have no choice. Next, it will run its course no matter what I think about it. Any wishing I could do something about it goes only toward making me a grumpy old bastard. I like my life this side of the wall. So why do I pay attention to the deception coming in from Out There. I have control. I can turn it off as easily as turn it on. Before the corporate takeover of our government, I believed it important to keep up with current events to stay educated in a democracy, bogus then as bogus now. I don't have a need to stay educated anymore. Indifference is setting in. The indifference that follows disappointment. I hear in my head Perry Ferrell of Jane's Addiction wail, Idiots Rule. The song had meaning then, even more meaning now. I will read more and listen to news less. I will listen to more music. I will focus on art projects more. The hard part is realizing that Out There is also In Here. It's all In Here. It only exists for me in my head. I have a choice about what goes into my head. I don't need to hear about Ebola til the next big Fear comes in to replace it. I like being out of touch with the corporate pop world in this time of the life. I like staying at home all the more. I could give the donkeys more attention. I could give the people of my world, my friends, more attention. Caterpillar would like more attention. I could have more naps. The best part will be less of that energy in my mind. In Here is the squirrels at the bird feeders, the donkeys, Caterpillar, good music, writing in this blog journal, which has turned out to be a meditation, even a prayer. It has become a mediation I want to do daily, zooming the mind in on whatever comes forward.
nancy graves herself