This must be some kind of world's record, all my posts on the industrialists, the industrial powers, and the industrial sections of our towns and cities. Woo hoo!
Really, how many other blogs do you suppose there are who can say they did this, had over 50 posts on this one subject? And even if you could find one somewhere, what's the chance of him being from the same town as me? The odds are getting smaller all the time! Then what would be the odds of him being on the same block or even my next door neighbor? Not good at all!
I can know this much: I'm the one who did it! I'm the one!
Even if the industrialists came by with a heat-yielding blunt instrument and tried to take me out right now -- and let's say they did take me out -- my store of over 50 posts on this one subject would stand the test of time. They can't destroy my work or my legacy. Even if I could not write another word -- like if they took me out, or for some other reason -- people could study my over 50 posts on this subject and never quite exhaust the subject or the insights they would stand to glean.
I've laid it out there, like a surgeon, like a doctor making a scalpel cut, then folding back the flaps of skin, just before I dive in and take out the fat or whatever the guy's problem is. I did it and it's all so amazing.
But think back 50-some days, what was going on with me: I was stewing about a little something called "The Industrial Section," the terrible things that go on out there. I went on to expound on the subject from 50 different points of view. I was very practical and specific about problems with the industrialists. Then we were in a confrontation and things were very bitter. Then Paul Krugman stepped in and shamed them, causing them to back off. From that point on I became much more philosophically oriented, while still keeping the practicality of focusing on my psychic viability, so that in the future I will be viable enough to take them on in their area of town once again. That day is coming!
But today is not a day for regrets -- or stewing over the future. Today is a day to celebrate and lift up my great pride for what I've achieved.
No other blog in the world has done what I've done, at least none in my state or town or block. I stand alone!
We'll be checking in after the next 50 to see how it's going. If I should falter between now and then, that would be terrible. But we shall try our best to prevail ... against those blasted industrialists!
Over 50 of them.
Over 50 times I've stood up to these blasted industrial powers.
Over 50 times I've set my face like flint against them and their power.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
After The Industrialists Till The Bitter End
I know this is going to be a bitter pill for the industrial powers, what I'm about to say. And it will be just the opposite for my friends out there and those who are telling me to "Keep up the good work," those who are encouraging me to keep on the industrialists until the bitter end. For them, this will go down sweet.
It'll taste sweet to those who are on my side, but like I said, it'll taste bitter to those who are opposed to me and all my efforts. But that's just the way it is. You makes your choice and you takes your medicine! Like Grandma always used to say, something about sugar makes the medicine go down more sweetly, something like that.
Back then, when Grandma was giving me medicine instead of the other way around, medicine was very bitter. That was before Flintstones chewables and cherry cough syrup. Back then medicine was medicine, not candy, and it was very bitter to swallow. I remember getting several doses of this scurrilous stuff called Castor's Oil. Whoever Castor was, he must've been a sadist. We used to fake wellness to keep from getting it, because, regardless of what she said about sugar making the medicine go down sweetly, she never actually put sugar in the stuff.
As far as pills went, I just swallowed them, with no taste. Except they might find a ledge in your throat once in a while and just hang there for dear life. The little boogers. Pills were neither sweet nor bitter, but the other medicine she gave us, as mentioned above, plus other odd substances, went down very bitterly, and if it came back up -- let's say -- it only got worse!
OK, getting back to the industrial powers. I'm going to remain on these guys' case incessantly -- that is my vow! -- until the bitter end. Until their bitter end! There can be no ties. There can be no consolation prize. There can be only one victor. We shall end industry and the industrial powers as we know them. They shall go down the tubes!
I'm an optimist. This is something I must've mentioned before. I will prevail, I will not be defeated!
So it's going to be very bitter medicine for them to take. But it's going to be very sweet for me myself, and for you -- and all men who are on my side.
It'll taste sweet to those who are on my side, but like I said, it'll taste bitter to those who are opposed to me and all my efforts. But that's just the way it is. You makes your choice and you takes your medicine! Like Grandma always used to say, something about sugar makes the medicine go down more sweetly, something like that.
Back then, when Grandma was giving me medicine instead of the other way around, medicine was very bitter. That was before Flintstones chewables and cherry cough syrup. Back then medicine was medicine, not candy, and it was very bitter to swallow. I remember getting several doses of this scurrilous stuff called Castor's Oil. Whoever Castor was, he must've been a sadist. We used to fake wellness to keep from getting it, because, regardless of what she said about sugar making the medicine go down sweetly, she never actually put sugar in the stuff.
As far as pills went, I just swallowed them, with no taste. Except they might find a ledge in your throat once in a while and just hang there for dear life. The little boogers. Pills were neither sweet nor bitter, but the other medicine she gave us, as mentioned above, plus other odd substances, went down very bitterly, and if it came back up -- let's say -- it only got worse!
OK, getting back to the industrial powers. I'm going to remain on these guys' case incessantly -- that is my vow! -- until the bitter end. Until their bitter end! There can be no ties. There can be no consolation prize. There can be only one victor. We shall end industry and the industrial powers as we know them. They shall go down the tubes!
I'm an optimist. This is something I must've mentioned before. I will prevail, I will not be defeated!
So it's going to be very bitter medicine for them to take. But it's going to be very sweet for me myself, and for you -- and all men who are on my side.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Come On, Industrial Powers, It's Only Right
I've always been a believer in the goodness of men, that men everywhere have within them that special something, call it something nebulous but very present. Goodness? Would that be a good word for it, what I believe men have?
This of course makes me naturally a very optimistic person, someone who always expects and tends to think the glass will be completely full one day. And this I see as being true for each and every man, that when the final tally is reckoned, with the final score is posted, we'll all be winners, every man a winner.
But being optimistic, that doesn't mean I can't see the other side. When it comes to optimism we have the full history of man hitherto to date, at least what we know of man's history since the time he began keeping records. A lot of the records were lost back in caveman days simply because they didn't have dehumidifiers and all the files rotted. It was the Egyptians who perfected a climate dry enough that dehumidifiers were rendered unnecessary. Warmer, drier air flowed forth then to every man, giving us enough records with which to draw definite conclusions.
Among our conclusions, like I said refuting optimism, we have man's history as being Man vs. Man for the full extent of it. Man has never found a way to get along with his brother. Having once committed fratricide, he kept right on committing it, to the point that nearly everyone died. In those days if you were an only child, there was a very good reason for it.
Then we have the sacred writers writing of man's heart being wicked above all things (Jer. 17). They inform us of ever increasing sin, both original and knock off sins. Cain and Abel got the whole fratricide ball rolling. And from there it all went downhill. There really is no reason to be optimistic about man, according to these well placed authorities. The great history of wars since then also bear terrible witness to man's perversity and worthlessness. It's a complete mess!
Still, call me naive, I'm optimistic. In spite of everything that history, psychology, religion, and personal experience have to say, I still believe -- crossing my fingers here -- that man is fundamentally good.
It's just a matter of him recognizing it, then deciding to be good. If only he will!
In that spirit, I call upon the industrial powers -- those blasted industrialists who I've been railing against now for over a month -- to turn from your wicked ways ... and be good!
We see the fruit of their evil ways everyday, but we don't think it has to be that way. They are among the most willful and shortsighted of men. But if we can turn them, then there's no telling what we will be able to do with everyone else. So I'm calling on them, imploring them, and saying, "It's only right! Give up your evil and try to live in the world as good people!"
The big companies that are currently exploiting resources and despoiling the environment, that are currently living like the devil even in the face of the folly of their ways ... these are the very ones I sincerely believe can even now turn and become good.
Please -- if you're reading this -- do as I say!
This of course makes me naturally a very optimistic person, someone who always expects and tends to think the glass will be completely full one day. And this I see as being true for each and every man, that when the final tally is reckoned, with the final score is posted, we'll all be winners, every man a winner.
But being optimistic, that doesn't mean I can't see the other side. When it comes to optimism we have the full history of man hitherto to date, at least what we know of man's history since the time he began keeping records. A lot of the records were lost back in caveman days simply because they didn't have dehumidifiers and all the files rotted. It was the Egyptians who perfected a climate dry enough that dehumidifiers were rendered unnecessary. Warmer, drier air flowed forth then to every man, giving us enough records with which to draw definite conclusions.
Among our conclusions, like I said refuting optimism, we have man's history as being Man vs. Man for the full extent of it. Man has never found a way to get along with his brother. Having once committed fratricide, he kept right on committing it, to the point that nearly everyone died. In those days if you were an only child, there was a very good reason for it.
Then we have the sacred writers writing of man's heart being wicked above all things (Jer. 17). They inform us of ever increasing sin, both original and knock off sins. Cain and Abel got the whole fratricide ball rolling. And from there it all went downhill. There really is no reason to be optimistic about man, according to these well placed authorities. The great history of wars since then also bear terrible witness to man's perversity and worthlessness. It's a complete mess!
Still, call me naive, I'm optimistic. In spite of everything that history, psychology, religion, and personal experience have to say, I still believe -- crossing my fingers here -- that man is fundamentally good.
It's just a matter of him recognizing it, then deciding to be good. If only he will!
In that spirit, I call upon the industrial powers -- those blasted industrialists who I've been railing against now for over a month -- to turn from your wicked ways ... and be good!
We see the fruit of their evil ways everyday, but we don't think it has to be that way. They are among the most willful and shortsighted of men. But if we can turn them, then there's no telling what we will be able to do with everyone else. So I'm calling on them, imploring them, and saying, "It's only right! Give up your evil and try to live in the world as good people!"
The big companies that are currently exploiting resources and despoiling the environment, that are currently living like the devil even in the face of the folly of their ways ... these are the very ones I sincerely believe can even now turn and become good.
Please -- if you're reading this -- do as I say!
Monday, May 24, 2010
The Slumps Vs. The Industrialists
I've been watching "Family Feud" on TV a lot lately, thanks to the Game Show Network.
What's Richard Dawson up to these days? He lives on in reruns, that's what, still kissing all the ladies from the '70s or '80s, whenever that was.
The later hosts aren't quite as affectionate, the guy from "Home Improvement" and the guy from "Seinfeld." But they're on there everyday too, carrying on the same game, two families or two associated entities who are playing for the big money, $20,000.
I could really use $20,000, if only there was someone in my family I could really count on if we could get on that last part they have on the show. And if we failed to get 200 points, still $5 a point sounds pretty good. Just not as good as $20,000, of course.
Since I'm so opposed to those blasted industrialists, the industrial powers, wouldn't it be a great fantasy to have the Slumps on one side and the Industrialists on the other? They have that needlepoint font that spells out the names of the families, and that would look interesting. Although if we were going by the spirit of the families (entities) in this case, the Slumps would best be represented with the needlepoint font, but the Industrialists by the Impact font, which is on most computers today. It's very cold and machine-like.
Anyway, there we'd be, the Slumps, the true representatives of feeling humanity, and the Industrialists, like aliens from some other planet, having a snake like texture under a thin veneer of fake skin. The Slumps would be playing for the world's honor, the Industrialists for the money alone. The Slumps would confer among themselves about the answers, seeking consensus. The Industrialists, true to their evil nature, would be arguing among themselves, then stabbing each other in the back until they only had one representative of their entity standing on the corpses of the others. We Slumps would come with shotguns, meaning we would survive.
I myself would definitely be playing for keeps, like I do everyday in regard to these blasted cretins. Because I would know there's much more than money up for grabs, there's humanity's interests and our family's honor. We haven't given in to these miserable creatures yet, and -- with God's help -- we never will, we won't.
It'd be two teams playing for all the marble. Just like we already are doing in real life, them, the bad guys ... and us, nothing but good. And wanting that $20,000.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
My Revulsion Against The Industrialists Is Palpable
That's right, my revulsion against the industrialists is palpable. I think something being palpable means it is immediate, real, and indisputable. But if the word includes some other definition, then that also is no doubt true.
At this point, for me, it's not just the local industrialists and industrial powers who are giving me heartburn and a queasy stomach. It's all of them. I hear about the troubles with our environment, oil spills, other pollution, and I think of how trucks speeding by suck grass and weeds down into the mud, and it gives me that sense of disgust.
I can barely stand to watch the news on TV, because I hear about how these powers -- these disgusting industrialists -- so hate the world and everything in. It's like they secretly think they have somewhere better to live.
We need a better plan of action as we stand against them than simply watching the news and ruing what's going on. There needs to be others to get out there and nose around the industrial sections of our town and document what's going on.
Like I said, I have a great deal of revulsion, but presently my viability levels are depleted. I'm trying to regain them so that my impact on the world will be for good instead of for naught. But you tell me, how can one man do it on his own?
The disgust is real, but getting something done about it is going to take a lot of effort. I mean a lot of effort.
At this point, for me, it's not just the local industrialists and industrial powers who are giving me heartburn and a queasy stomach. It's all of them. I hear about the troubles with our environment, oil spills, other pollution, and I think of how trucks speeding by suck grass and weeds down into the mud, and it gives me that sense of disgust.
I can barely stand to watch the news on TV, because I hear about how these powers -- these disgusting industrialists -- so hate the world and everything in. It's like they secretly think they have somewhere better to live.
We need a better plan of action as we stand against them than simply watching the news and ruing what's going on. There needs to be others to get out there and nose around the industrial sections of our town and document what's going on.
Like I said, I have a great deal of revulsion, but presently my viability levels are depleted. I'm trying to regain them so that my impact on the world will be for good instead of for naught. But you tell me, how can one man do it on his own?
The disgust is real, but getting something done about it is going to take a lot of effort. I mean a lot of effort.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
The Industrialists' Secret Hotline
That really worked, yesterday, what I did yesterday. It really did the trick. At least it got the trick going and I'm assuming the trick will be completely done very soon, if not imminently.
You may recall, depending on how diligently you're hanging on my every word, that I began building on my viability vis-a-vis the industrialists by some very focused taunts.
This is biblical, my friends, so I think there's something very essential about it. Taunting and name-calling is an ancient means of personal positioning, helping you position yourself back in a place of power. You can think of two very similar passages of taunting from the Bible, Isaiah 14, Isaiah's taunt against the king of Babylon, and Ezekiel 28, Ezekiel's prophecy against the king of Tyre. In each passage we have things that relate to our imagery about evil in its most essential form.
The conclusion I will draw is this: That it is indisputable that I'm in very good company indeed when I taunt the industrial powers as "clowns" and "clownish." And I would draw other conclusions as well, including, that whatever power the prophets and other writers in Israel derived from these highly sourced taunts is the same kind of power we can share today.
The basic way to go about it is to make sure you start from a righteous position. Check! Then you proceed, letting it all hang out. I speak the word of power, then take my defensive position like a junkyard dog. A junkyard dog has all the instincts of a normal dog, but he knows he has an entire junkyard to guard. That's big! He's got all the viability he needs.
And that's what I'm looking to regain. I really need (and needed) to supplement my viability deficiencies, and now I can see I'm well on the way. And taunting is such an easy method, with there being others as well. Stinking clowns! Ezekiel and Isaiah went for those very essential images of evil at their heart of their tradition. Today, think about it, we basically have industrialists and clowns -- I know, along with politicians. But nobody likes clowns. Even clowns hate themselves, there being no one as self-loathing as them!
Industrialists, on the other hand, love themselves. So who knows? Maybe in addition to increasing my viability -- giving me greater power to nose around the industrial section of town with impunity -- I can shift their self-perception from that of the self-loving industrialist to the self-loathing clown. It's worth a shot. I hate these clowns!
Now, and this should be obvious, they're not going to go down without a fight. So what I'm assuming is that they're all over this blog, looking for clues as to my next move. And so forth. So I can well imagine there's a lot of hotlines glowing and buzzing in their various quarters and precincts today -- stretching at least into this evening. They're doing a lot of conferring, sharing conference calls for that very purpose. They keep their hotlines like pheasant under glass, red and quivering when a call is placed or comes through.
But they need to save the color red for the little ball on the end of their nose! The clowns!
You may recall, depending on how diligently you're hanging on my every word, that I began building on my viability vis-a-vis the industrialists by some very focused taunts.
This is biblical, my friends, so I think there's something very essential about it. Taunting and name-calling is an ancient means of personal positioning, helping you position yourself back in a place of power. You can think of two very similar passages of taunting from the Bible, Isaiah 14, Isaiah's taunt against the king of Babylon, and Ezekiel 28, Ezekiel's prophecy against the king of Tyre. In each passage we have things that relate to our imagery about evil in its most essential form.
The conclusion I will draw is this: That it is indisputable that I'm in very good company indeed when I taunt the industrial powers as "clowns" and "clownish." And I would draw other conclusions as well, including, that whatever power the prophets and other writers in Israel derived from these highly sourced taunts is the same kind of power we can share today.
The basic way to go about it is to make sure you start from a righteous position. Check! Then you proceed, letting it all hang out. I speak the word of power, then take my defensive position like a junkyard dog. A junkyard dog has all the instincts of a normal dog, but he knows he has an entire junkyard to guard. That's big! He's got all the viability he needs.
And that's what I'm looking to regain. I really need (and needed) to supplement my viability deficiencies, and now I can see I'm well on the way. And taunting is such an easy method, with there being others as well. Stinking clowns! Ezekiel and Isaiah went for those very essential images of evil at their heart of their tradition. Today, think about it, we basically have industrialists and clowns -- I know, along with politicians. But nobody likes clowns. Even clowns hate themselves, there being no one as self-loathing as them!
Industrialists, on the other hand, love themselves. So who knows? Maybe in addition to increasing my viability -- giving me greater power to nose around the industrial section of town with impunity -- I can shift their self-perception from that of the self-loving industrialist to the self-loathing clown. It's worth a shot. I hate these clowns!
Now, and this should be obvious, they're not going to go down without a fight. So what I'm assuming is that they're all over this blog, looking for clues as to my next move. And so forth. So I can well imagine there's a lot of hotlines glowing and buzzing in their various quarters and precincts today -- stretching at least into this evening. They're doing a lot of conferring, sharing conference calls for that very purpose. They keep their hotlines like pheasant under glass, red and quivering when a call is placed or comes through.
But they need to save the color red for the little ball on the end of their nose! The clowns!
Friday, May 21, 2010
Wherein I Taunt The Industrial Powers As Clowns
I was talking the other day about my viability, hoping to increase my viability, so that I would be able to get back out to nose around the industrial section of town. I still don't think I'm quite there yet. But I feel my levels increasing seemingly every day, to the point that parts of me feel like they're full while other parts feel like they still have a ways to go.
Of course part of the whole psychic make up that we have is dependent upon testing and being aware of our various levels. We may have subjective insights (and hope for the best), but in the real world we have to deal in objectivity and that means putting things to the test. I'm only reluctant because sometimes if you test too early you can lose the viability that you have and so you have to wait that much longer for something that's not just a test or a drill but the actual mission.
In my case I might not really have the luxury of waiting. For one thing, the offenses of the industrialists are so heinous that the world becomes worse every day. And two, I just don't like waiting that much; I am a man of action who doesn't like sitting on his big fat duff.
Anyway, the industrialists are so powerful that they can zap your strength even if you wait forever. Sometimes you just have to strike and hope for the best. Like maybe they're not watching. Or maybe you've caught them off guard. Or they're napping. Or they're on vacation. Or somehow they themselves have been zapped. It could happen, say if all of us stood against them at the same time. But as it is, it's basically me, the local man, all on his own, with no help.
So as part of my "testing" of my viability, I thought a good way to do that would be to post a few things on my blog, such as lashing out at them verbally, calling them a few names. Now in the past I believe I've only referred to them as the industrialists or the industrial powers. I have used the word "blasted" a few times to describe them. I think that's called an adjective. Today, though, my tactic will be invective, also putting to the test the old line about sticks and stones hurting me...
You guys are clownish! What a bunch of worthless clowns! I wouldn't think people who are as supposedly "powerful" as you would be such pathetic clowns ... but you are and so we're laughing at you. All you're missing, it seems, is a big red nose and maybe some shoes two feet long! If you're going to be a clown, shouldn't people be laughing at you? Ha, ha, ha, ha! Clowns!
That felt good ... but it's not the feeling in the moment that makes the difference, it's the sense of viability that goes with it. And you know what? I'm feeling very viable!
With this kind of viability, and let's say I multiply it many times over the next few days, there's really no telling what kind of effectiveness I might have against the industrial powers, those clowns. I might be back out and nosing around before you know it. Any day now! Literally, any day now.
Of course part of the whole psychic make up that we have is dependent upon testing and being aware of our various levels. We may have subjective insights (and hope for the best), but in the real world we have to deal in objectivity and that means putting things to the test. I'm only reluctant because sometimes if you test too early you can lose the viability that you have and so you have to wait that much longer for something that's not just a test or a drill but the actual mission.
In my case I might not really have the luxury of waiting. For one thing, the offenses of the industrialists are so heinous that the world becomes worse every day. And two, I just don't like waiting that much; I am a man of action who doesn't like sitting on his big fat duff.
Anyway, the industrialists are so powerful that they can zap your strength even if you wait forever. Sometimes you just have to strike and hope for the best. Like maybe they're not watching. Or maybe you've caught them off guard. Or they're napping. Or they're on vacation. Or somehow they themselves have been zapped. It could happen, say if all of us stood against them at the same time. But as it is, it's basically me, the local man, all on his own, with no help.
So as part of my "testing" of my viability, I thought a good way to do that would be to post a few things on my blog, such as lashing out at them verbally, calling them a few names. Now in the past I believe I've only referred to them as the industrialists or the industrial powers. I have used the word "blasted" a few times to describe them. I think that's called an adjective. Today, though, my tactic will be invective, also putting to the test the old line about sticks and stones hurting me...
You guys are clownish! What a bunch of worthless clowns! I wouldn't think people who are as supposedly "powerful" as you would be such pathetic clowns ... but you are and so we're laughing at you. All you're missing, it seems, is a big red nose and maybe some shoes two feet long! If you're going to be a clown, shouldn't people be laughing at you? Ha, ha, ha, ha! Clowns!
That felt good ... but it's not the feeling in the moment that makes the difference, it's the sense of viability that goes with it. And you know what? I'm feeling very viable!
With this kind of viability, and let's say I multiply it many times over the next few days, there's really no telling what kind of effectiveness I might have against the industrial powers, those clowns. I might be back out and nosing around before you know it. Any day now! Literally, any day now.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Breaking Our Dependency On The Industrialists
We've been talking about how powerful the industrialists are, and that's true, they are very powerful. But when we examine the issue more closely and when we come to more honest conclusions, we can easily see that much of the power that they have is the power that we give them.
In short, I am suggesting that our dependency on the industrialists is the source of much of their power.
Of course it wasn't always this way, such as before the Industrial Revolution. Back then we had a more humane system of tinkerers, cobblers, and craftsmen. They were more like neighbors. If we needed someone to tinker with our well, someone to cobble our shoes, or a craftsmen to do his crafty work, all we had to do was pick up the phone and a very neighborly man was there to help. We depended on them because in a community you depend on one another. But unlike today, it's not the same as what we call a dependency.
Ever since the Industrial Revolution, we've looked to the industrialists to give us one new product after another. And along with each new product came a dozen new headaches. In more modern times -- such as with computers, big-screen TVs, and dishwashers -- the headaches have been multiplied. You always hear of 3G, 4G, and 5G, and you have no idea what they're talking about. So we need help from the virus scanning people, professional installers, and even a talking paperclip on most Microsoft products! If we're really dependent on a paperclip, God help us!
And you know the industrial powers have to love this! The vast network of help providers that they've spawned they've made is, as it were, a buffer zone between themselves and us. So they are that much more removed while keeping us in thrall just as much or more! This is terrible. Take the virus scanners for example. You can't tell me they want to get rid of viruses... because that's their bread-and-butter. They create these dependencies, and quite frankly they're probably part of the original problem!
At this point, though, it might seem hopeless. How can we break our dependency, especially when our dependency has so many aspects to it, many hidden? One thing, it's obviously not easy. Most of us don't even know the nature of the problem.
A part of my task here on this blog has been to point out the many layers of the problem as I see it. Because the way I see it, education is part of the key. Whether the issue is teaching against gambling, or an easier problem to defeat, such as fighting premarital sex and the teenage libido, education is where it starts. It's easy to talk teenagers out of their lust; just tell him it's not a good idea and usually they'll do something else.
I know I can't break the dependency on the industrialists and the industrial powers for everyone in a split second. I know it might take an hour or two, because at this point we're talking about the whole world. But to get the job done you have to start somewhere. And so that's what I advocate. I am trying to help you.
To me it's obvious we'll all be happier when we break our dependency, and beyond that, when the industrialists, their power, and industry itself are no more. Until that glad day we need to educate, to advocate, and to agitate. Because otherwise the problem will never go away. And that old-fashioned system of tinkerers, cobblers, and craftsmen will remain simply a part of the past. But we can bring it back if we do what it takes to make it happen. Because that's what we want.
In short, I am suggesting that our dependency on the industrialists is the source of much of their power.
Of course it wasn't always this way, such as before the Industrial Revolution. Back then we had a more humane system of tinkerers, cobblers, and craftsmen. They were more like neighbors. If we needed someone to tinker with our well, someone to cobble our shoes, or a craftsmen to do his crafty work, all we had to do was pick up the phone and a very neighborly man was there to help. We depended on them because in a community you depend on one another. But unlike today, it's not the same as what we call a dependency.
Ever since the Industrial Revolution, we've looked to the industrialists to give us one new product after another. And along with each new product came a dozen new headaches. In more modern times -- such as with computers, big-screen TVs, and dishwashers -- the headaches have been multiplied. You always hear of 3G, 4G, and 5G, and you have no idea what they're talking about. So we need help from the virus scanning people, professional installers, and even a talking paperclip on most Microsoft products! If we're really dependent on a paperclip, God help us!
And you know the industrial powers have to love this! The vast network of help providers that they've spawned they've made is, as it were, a buffer zone between themselves and us. So they are that much more removed while keeping us in thrall just as much or more! This is terrible. Take the virus scanners for example. You can't tell me they want to get rid of viruses... because that's their bread-and-butter. They create these dependencies, and quite frankly they're probably part of the original problem!
At this point, though, it might seem hopeless. How can we break our dependency, especially when our dependency has so many aspects to it, many hidden? One thing, it's obviously not easy. Most of us don't even know the nature of the problem.
A part of my task here on this blog has been to point out the many layers of the problem as I see it. Because the way I see it, education is part of the key. Whether the issue is teaching against gambling, or an easier problem to defeat, such as fighting premarital sex and the teenage libido, education is where it starts. It's easy to talk teenagers out of their lust; just tell him it's not a good idea and usually they'll do something else.
I know I can't break the dependency on the industrialists and the industrial powers for everyone in a split second. I know it might take an hour or two, because at this point we're talking about the whole world. But to get the job done you have to start somewhere. And so that's what I advocate. I am trying to help you.
To me it's obvious we'll all be happier when we break our dependency, and beyond that, when the industrialists, their power, and industry itself are no more. Until that glad day we need to educate, to advocate, and to agitate. Because otherwise the problem will never go away. And that old-fashioned system of tinkerers, cobblers, and craftsmen will remain simply a part of the past. But we can bring it back if we do what it takes to make it happen. Because that's what we want.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
My Own Interests In Industry
There's been a few naysayers among my readers, those who wait for and read my posts on a daily basis, about the truth of my convictions against the industrial powers and industry in general.
Yes I do hear from numerous of you, mostly telling me how much you enjoy the Google ads and click them for the information that you get as far as bargains and products that you can't get anywhere else. But then there's a few of you who feel it's your duty to criticize and take me to task now and again.
Part of this I can understand, the gentle nudging that I get, which pushes me to make improvements and even to hone some of my opinions. But then of course some of it is suspect -- real criticism, some very tough -- that probably, if we are being honest probably comes from the industrial powers themselves. It's in their interest to push me as hard as they can. And so of course I would suspect that, being also just naturally a very suspicious person.
Some of the criticism takes this tack, that I myself have interests in industry. This is one of the oldest criticisms of the book. That basically boils down to this, if you yourself have any interest in something you have no right to criticize. But of course when it comes to industry all of us have some interest in it, some history. They've even taken me to task for having a computer, which itself is a product of industry. Honestly, I've tried to make my own computer apart from industry, out of peach crates and silicon bags, but it just didn't work.
In my defense -- as to my interests -- my interests don't rise to the level of complicity, such as having a job down at the monster truck tire company or investments. I will admit to this, because I know someone would dig up the truth if I didn't: I did enjoy free free barbecued pork burgers at Fourth of July picnic last year, which were provided by this local industry. That said, I didn't think they were that great.
But whatever interest I have in the industry myself, and my interests are meager, I have a greater interest in the environment and in the living standards, the quality of life in my community and in the world. If all we do is breathe in the black smoke from the blast furnace of this mammoth industry, simply for the sake of monster truck tires, I believe it's going to do us more harm than good. Then multiply that concern by all of the industrial sections in the world and all of the people who want a higher quality of life. Someone has to stand up and be counted.
So I appreciate my readership, and I'm happy that you are here today. And I hope that you find some terrific bargains through the Google ads that I display. And I hope that you find my opinions, and the important news you read here, as valuable as I myself find it. But not just to fulfill your curiosity or that you can take in information for the sake of information, but that you would use it in this important fight against industry and the industrial powers.
All of us have some interest in industry -- unless you've figured out the secret of peach crates and silicon bags -- but we also have an interest in living, free from the black smoke of these blasted companies.
Yes I do hear from numerous of you, mostly telling me how much you enjoy the Google ads and click them for the information that you get as far as bargains and products that you can't get anywhere else. But then there's a few of you who feel it's your duty to criticize and take me to task now and again.
Part of this I can understand, the gentle nudging that I get, which pushes me to make improvements and even to hone some of my opinions. But then of course some of it is suspect -- real criticism, some very tough -- that probably, if we are being honest probably comes from the industrial powers themselves. It's in their interest to push me as hard as they can. And so of course I would suspect that, being also just naturally a very suspicious person.
Some of the criticism takes this tack, that I myself have interests in industry. This is one of the oldest criticisms of the book. That basically boils down to this, if you yourself have any interest in something you have no right to criticize. But of course when it comes to industry all of us have some interest in it, some history. They've even taken me to task for having a computer, which itself is a product of industry. Honestly, I've tried to make my own computer apart from industry, out of peach crates and silicon bags, but it just didn't work.
In my defense -- as to my interests -- my interests don't rise to the level of complicity, such as having a job down at the monster truck tire company or investments. I will admit to this, because I know someone would dig up the truth if I didn't: I did enjoy free free barbecued pork burgers at Fourth of July picnic last year, which were provided by this local industry. That said, I didn't think they were that great.
But whatever interest I have in the industry myself, and my interests are meager, I have a greater interest in the environment and in the living standards, the quality of life in my community and in the world. If all we do is breathe in the black smoke from the blast furnace of this mammoth industry, simply for the sake of monster truck tires, I believe it's going to do us more harm than good. Then multiply that concern by all of the industrial sections in the world and all of the people who want a higher quality of life. Someone has to stand up and be counted.
So I appreciate my readership, and I'm happy that you are here today. And I hope that you find some terrific bargains through the Google ads that I display. And I hope that you find my opinions, and the important news you read here, as valuable as I myself find it. But not just to fulfill your curiosity or that you can take in information for the sake of information, but that you would use it in this important fight against industry and the industrial powers.
All of us have some interest in industry -- unless you've figured out the secret of peach crates and silicon bags -- but we also have an interest in living, free from the black smoke of these blasted companies.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Summary Of My Struggle Against The Industrial Powers
I just want to summarize where we are, me and the industrial powers. It's been a tough month or more, and yet the struggle goes on.
How did I get in this position?
I went nosing around the industrial section of my town. One thing, I've never really liked that part of town. It's unsightly. It's unsanitary. And it's full of industry, noise, pollution, and it seems to be uncontrollable. You have a million different big fences. You have buildings with garages big enough for trucks. They have lights burning throughout the night, and enough steam coming out of their vents to spawn a cloudy day.
With all my nosing around, I started responding to what I saw, because I didn't like it. That put us at odds, me and the industrial powers, the powers that be who dwell in that district.
The industrialists have not taken kindly to what they see as an intrusion on my part, coming into their industrial zone, the section of town in which they feel that they can exercise their will without undue oversight.
What they call intrusion I would call necessary oversight. And they probably wouldn't mind it so much if they were used to oversight, but as it is they've had free reign for too long.
If the government or governing authorities were to demonstrate some responsibility and oversight over the industrial powers, and do it in a consistent way over the years, everything would be in place and the industrial powers would know that as the normal way things are.
But lacking that, they get set in their ways, with no oversight, and so when someone calls them on their offenses they react poorly. Especially if they perceive that the person -- in this case an individual who is not part of the governing authorities -- could be easily put off.
When there is such an individual, in this case me, they believe they can wield their power against him with impunity. I don't really have connections with governing authorities who would help me or be a natural ally in any sense of the word. Basically, that leaves me at the tender mercies of the industrial powers, which can obviously be a bad position to be in.
I've seen some of the results of their tender mercies, such as when they were doing heavy duty surveillance of my house, and of course my comings and goings. Acting against me with impunity, they assumed, I would be a pushover. I guess they wee more or less right, because when push came to shove I was pushed, but somehow I was not entirely pushed over.
I owe some of my resilience to my natural resiliency, and I also had some unwitting help from unexpected quarters. Not to recapitulate entirely, one of my allies was Paul Krugman. (And it seems like I had another high level ally, but who it was now I'm forgetting.) As to my resiliency, I just don't like to buckle. I don't like giving in. I wouldn't apologize. And they didn't make me.
So where we stand now... I'm still standing. The industrial powers are still standing. The best you can say is we're in a standoff.
How did I get in this position?
I went nosing around the industrial section of my town. One thing, I've never really liked that part of town. It's unsightly. It's unsanitary. And it's full of industry, noise, pollution, and it seems to be uncontrollable. You have a million different big fences. You have buildings with garages big enough for trucks. They have lights burning throughout the night, and enough steam coming out of their vents to spawn a cloudy day.
With all my nosing around, I started responding to what I saw, because I didn't like it. That put us at odds, me and the industrial powers, the powers that be who dwell in that district.
The industrialists have not taken kindly to what they see as an intrusion on my part, coming into their industrial zone, the section of town in which they feel that they can exercise their will without undue oversight.
What they call intrusion I would call necessary oversight. And they probably wouldn't mind it so much if they were used to oversight, but as it is they've had free reign for too long.
If the government or governing authorities were to demonstrate some responsibility and oversight over the industrial powers, and do it in a consistent way over the years, everything would be in place and the industrial powers would know that as the normal way things are.
But lacking that, they get set in their ways, with no oversight, and so when someone calls them on their offenses they react poorly. Especially if they perceive that the person -- in this case an individual who is not part of the governing authorities -- could be easily put off.
When there is such an individual, in this case me, they believe they can wield their power against him with impunity. I don't really have connections with governing authorities who would help me or be a natural ally in any sense of the word. Basically, that leaves me at the tender mercies of the industrial powers, which can obviously be a bad position to be in.
I've seen some of the results of their tender mercies, such as when they were doing heavy duty surveillance of my house, and of course my comings and goings. Acting against me with impunity, they assumed, I would be a pushover. I guess they wee more or less right, because when push came to shove I was pushed, but somehow I was not entirely pushed over.
I owe some of my resilience to my natural resiliency, and I also had some unwitting help from unexpected quarters. Not to recapitulate entirely, one of my allies was Paul Krugman. (And it seems like I had another high level ally, but who it was now I'm forgetting.) As to my resiliency, I just don't like to buckle. I don't like giving in. I wouldn't apologize. And they didn't make me.
So where we stand now... I'm still standing. The industrial powers are still standing. The best you can say is we're in a standoff.
Monday, May 17, 2010
My Viability Vis-A-Vis The Industrialists
I've been "good" lately. You'll notice, just reading my posts, that I haven't been out nosing around the industrial section of my town recently. I've restrained myself, which has been very hard to do, but it's been done.
I would love to be out there, nosing around, getting the scuttlebutt, observing what's going on, the various offenses and shortcomings of the industrial powers. It's the easiest thing in the world -- going out, looking around, and letting your imagination run wild. What you can't see behind closed doors, you can easily imagine.
At one time I had all kinds of viability, free rein. But that's been over a month ago. It's like political capital, or financially like a bank account. Before you spend it you have it. Then you spend it and it's depleted, and you spend a little more and finally it's gone.
What happened with me has been well documented, and it's been the talk of the town here on my own little half acre of earth. It's about all I've talked about. It's constantly on my mind. I can think of little else. I can't think of anything else. Just this.
In short, it's this: The industrial powers have reacted, have responded. They didn't take kindly to my intrusions, to my research, then the posting of my findings. Because they're used to being insulated. They're used to society turning a blind eye to their ways. In general we take it for granted that we're going to "need" industry and an industrial section. So, like adult entertainment establishments, we cordon off a piece of the town and let them "have at it" out there.
So far so good! But when a vigilant citizen starts seeing all kinds of flagrant violations -- things that should not be done being done -- pollution, workers falling into vats of poison, weeds and grass being sucked into the mud by speeding trucks -- that's what they cannot stand. They don't want any accountability, and so their reaction is anything but kind.
For a while they were demanding that I apologize, which I refused to do. I dug in deeper, even though I had the resolve to pull back and try to defuse the situation. Then they stepped up their demands even more insistently. I was suddenly helped, quite out of the blue, by a line in a Paul Krugman column. He shamed them and I've had it pretty good for over a week.
Still, I haven't felt like I've had my viability renewed sufficiently as to venture out and nose around their district at this time. One thing, viability is not eternal. It's very temporal. When I get out there I need to make it count, because it will quickly be depleted. And yet, think of it this way, I still have my memories of what I saw before. Add to that a renewal of my viability, and when I get out there, even if it is temporal, I will be able to build more quickly and effectively on what I experienced before. That means, in short, that I will need less viability to get the same amount (likely more) research accomplished next time.
Everyday I'm getting stronger in my position vis-a-vis the industrial powers! It's just a matter at this point of letting my viability level increase. Then we'll see who has the last word ... and the last laugh!
I would love to be out there, nosing around, getting the scuttlebutt, observing what's going on, the various offenses and shortcomings of the industrial powers. It's the easiest thing in the world -- going out, looking around, and letting your imagination run wild. What you can't see behind closed doors, you can easily imagine.
At one time I had all kinds of viability, free rein. But that's been over a month ago. It's like political capital, or financially like a bank account. Before you spend it you have it. Then you spend it and it's depleted, and you spend a little more and finally it's gone.
What happened with me has been well documented, and it's been the talk of the town here on my own little half acre of earth. It's about all I've talked about. It's constantly on my mind. I can think of little else. I can't think of anything else. Just this.
In short, it's this: The industrial powers have reacted, have responded. They didn't take kindly to my intrusions, to my research, then the posting of my findings. Because they're used to being insulated. They're used to society turning a blind eye to their ways. In general we take it for granted that we're going to "need" industry and an industrial section. So, like adult entertainment establishments, we cordon off a piece of the town and let them "have at it" out there.
So far so good! But when a vigilant citizen starts seeing all kinds of flagrant violations -- things that should not be done being done -- pollution, workers falling into vats of poison, weeds and grass being sucked into the mud by speeding trucks -- that's what they cannot stand. They don't want any accountability, and so their reaction is anything but kind.
For a while they were demanding that I apologize, which I refused to do. I dug in deeper, even though I had the resolve to pull back and try to defuse the situation. Then they stepped up their demands even more insistently. I was suddenly helped, quite out of the blue, by a line in a Paul Krugman column. He shamed them and I've had it pretty good for over a week.
Still, I haven't felt like I've had my viability renewed sufficiently as to venture out and nose around their district at this time. One thing, viability is not eternal. It's very temporal. When I get out there I need to make it count, because it will quickly be depleted. And yet, think of it this way, I still have my memories of what I saw before. Add to that a renewal of my viability, and when I get out there, even if it is temporal, I will be able to build more quickly and effectively on what I experienced before. That means, in short, that I will need less viability to get the same amount (likely more) research accomplished next time.
Everyday I'm getting stronger in my position vis-a-vis the industrial powers! It's just a matter at this point of letting my viability level increase. Then we'll see who has the last word ... and the last laugh!
Sunday, May 16, 2010
The Anti-Industrialist's Very Orderly Life
There's a conflict of two very orderly worlds, that of the industrial powers and that of the anti-industrialist. You might say it's a conflict that will go to the bitter end, while remaining very neat and tidy.
Now that the industrialists' world is neat and tidy, at least not the effulgence and influence that comes from it. Within their world, I'll grant it, there must be a lot of neatness and tidiness. Such as in the offices where the executives dangle the world's fate by a string over a candle's flame. There, I'm sure the surroundings are very sparse and tidy, having tables with very sparse arrangements of things.
My own neatness and tidiness doesn't extend to the arrangements on tables or bookcases. As for myself, I am a sentimental collector of things, so I have things everywhere. The neatness and tidiness that I have is my ability to compartmentalize life and experience and keep it orderly in that way. That's one of the things that makes me such a crusader and an anti-industrialist. I and the industrialists, you might say, are two sides of the same coin. I'm the good side, the heads, the tails being the evil side.
I see pictures of bookcases in newspaper ads or catalogs and I'm amazed. The people posited in the arrangements, the faux families who appear to own the bookcases, have about five books, then a clock, a couple knickknacks and maybe a flower. They don't need a bookcase. They need a coffee table.
The neatness of the industrialists -- who spew such filth and toxicity into the air, the streams, and make such a mess of the world and people's lives -- takes place in their offices and maybe in their homes. As far as they're concerned, the runnings of industry is a lot of very orderly cylinders and sprockets working like a symphony. Getting to the base of it, there's a lot of orderly plinking, clanging, machines operating in harmony.
If I could regain my viability -- presently lost by the reputation I've garnered as a vocal anti-industrialist -- maybe I could ride in on one of the bus tours and see it with the others. Then I could witness what they want us to see, the drills, the sledge hammers, and the automatic welders, pounding, boring, and sealing. You might visualize or imagine it audibly to The Cars' song, "I'm In Touch With Your World."
Then there's me, the anti-industrialist at home, leafing through my files, my photos of pallets, broken fences, and piles of tires and rusty castoffs. Each one is numbered. Each detail is studied for further evidence of industry's wayward spirit. It's all so neat and tidy, they're already indicted. As far as I'm concerned, they don't need to wait for judgment day to be judged; they're already judged.
I can hear that Cars' song in my mind's ear right now. It makes up part of the soundtrack of my life. It's a great song for filing. Too bad there isn't an extended version.
Now that the industrialists' world is neat and tidy, at least not the effulgence and influence that comes from it. Within their world, I'll grant it, there must be a lot of neatness and tidiness. Such as in the offices where the executives dangle the world's fate by a string over a candle's flame. There, I'm sure the surroundings are very sparse and tidy, having tables with very sparse arrangements of things.
My own neatness and tidiness doesn't extend to the arrangements on tables or bookcases. As for myself, I am a sentimental collector of things, so I have things everywhere. The neatness and tidiness that I have is my ability to compartmentalize life and experience and keep it orderly in that way. That's one of the things that makes me such a crusader and an anti-industrialist. I and the industrialists, you might say, are two sides of the same coin. I'm the good side, the heads, the tails being the evil side.
I see pictures of bookcases in newspaper ads or catalogs and I'm amazed. The people posited in the arrangements, the faux families who appear to own the bookcases, have about five books, then a clock, a couple knickknacks and maybe a flower. They don't need a bookcase. They need a coffee table.
The neatness of the industrialists -- who spew such filth and toxicity into the air, the streams, and make such a mess of the world and people's lives -- takes place in their offices and maybe in their homes. As far as they're concerned, the runnings of industry is a lot of very orderly cylinders and sprockets working like a symphony. Getting to the base of it, there's a lot of orderly plinking, clanging, machines operating in harmony.
If I could regain my viability -- presently lost by the reputation I've garnered as a vocal anti-industrialist -- maybe I could ride in on one of the bus tours and see it with the others. Then I could witness what they want us to see, the drills, the sledge hammers, and the automatic welders, pounding, boring, and sealing. You might visualize or imagine it audibly to The Cars' song, "I'm In Touch With Your World."
Then there's me, the anti-industrialist at home, leafing through my files, my photos of pallets, broken fences, and piles of tires and rusty castoffs. Each one is numbered. Each detail is studied for further evidence of industry's wayward spirit. It's all so neat and tidy, they're already indicted. As far as I'm concerned, they don't need to wait for judgment day to be judged; they're already judged.
I can hear that Cars' song in my mind's ear right now. It makes up part of the soundtrack of my life. It's a great song for filing. Too bad there isn't an extended version.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
I'm On The Industrial Powers' Watch List
I'm saying this in response to some of your questions as to why I haven't been out at the industrial section nosing around, as I was very bold to do over a month ago. A lot has changed in the last month. The truth is that the industrialists have taken notice, leading to all their surveillance and threats against me in the last half month or more.
My car has been flagged. I suspect and know this. Where I go is under scrutiny. Someone somewhere, perhaps at the highest echelons, is monitoring my comings and goings. I suspect and know that were I to get anywhere near the industrial section that it would be suspected and known.
It's terrible -- take it from me -- to live your life on a watch list. One, you have people watching you. And in this case, it's all very subtle, much like it'd be to have an eye in the sky watching you that you yourself couldn't see.
Of course we're all being watched. You go in a Walmart, the library, the grocery store, a church, and you can see the camera aimed at you. They're very blatant about it, putting a monitor right at the entrance so you can see yourself as you go in. They have signs around the parking lot, that the premises are being recorded. Someone calls you as a courtesy call from the utilities and they are required to tell you the conversation "may be recorded for quality control." I was in the Hobby Lobby store the other day and I suddenly heard them say on the speakers, "Please record Zone 4." I looked right above my head and saw a pennant fluttering that said "Zone 4" and "Enjoy your hobbies." When the voice ceased I could hear an instrumental of "There Shall Be Showers of Blessing" playing.
There have to be hours and hours of video footage of me all over town, every time I get gas or groceries. I would love to have a DVD of it all, because it'd be fun to put it on and watch myself shop. If you could see yourself shopping on a DVD for a few hours it'd give you some incentive to cut back your spending. But just because I think it'd be fun, you can't imagine the store manager would like it if we all showed up at the store with a camera of our own. Just video everything and everyone, a little mount on the shopping cart for your camera. They'd freak if the shoe was on the other foot.
And the same thing with these blasted industrialists. If I mounted about a dozen cameras on my car and drove through the industrial section, I'm sure I'd catch all kinds of flagrant violations out there. But I'm already on the watch list, so anything I can do to pull back now could save my viability later. Then if I hear of greater violations I could show up, with my renewed viability, and catch them red-handed. Let them feel safe now and sorry later.
Everyone have a great day! Remember, you're being watched, but enjoy yourselves!
Friday, May 14, 2010
Homage To An Anti-Industrialist
(This post is inspired by the "extras" on the "North By Northwest" DVD, the film by Alfred Hitchcock. In the various "Making of" and "Appreciation of" features, everyone kisses Hitch's butt royally, time after time. He was a lucky guy, in that he could speak softly and lethargically yet depend on everyone else to praise him manically at 100 mph. Of course he deserved it. If I was there I'd be kissing his butt too, so it's all good.)
Lately it seems I've been expressing a great deal of paranoia about the industrialists, the bosses and brains, those blasted powers behind the industrial sections of our cities and towns.
I think paranoia is a pretty good response to their ways and their wiles, in that they wield a great deal of power, of sway, for their interests. And if their interests conflict with the interests of society as a whole, and if someone dares to stand up to them, to take them to task for it, their position of power allows them to respond with a heavy arsenal.
So what we would have in that daring person is a person who has at least partly set aside his fear and self-interest, except the self-interest of doing the right thing, of speaking for the others who aren't speaking for themselves. You've got the millions, then you have the one. The one raises his fist, maybe. The one dares to take a stand against the powers that be.
Since I am that man, and since no one else seems to be doing an homage to me, the local man who is an anti-industrialist, I'd like to offer one myself.
It seems that in my stand against the industrialists, the industrial powers, that I've done all things well. These things include my descriptions of the industrialists, the industrial sections of our cities and towns, and the sprawling blight that is the result. Like the great movie director, let's say, I've illustrated these things with the very big -- as we think of industrial sections as being very big. I've featured the giant smokestack of the monster tire factory. You'll remember those terrible scenes. Then I've gone with the very small -- which also is part of the whole mosaic of the sprawling blight and just as essential as the very big. The scenes have included things like the grass and weeds sucked down into the mud by the speeding trucks.
It's been a brilliant production, I'll say so myself. I'm very moved by the intrinsic, such as the obvious factories, conveyor belts, garages, the weird lighting, the steam vents, etc., that would have to be part of the picture. Then I'm equally moved by the seemingly incidental details, like the deer I wrote about a few weeks ago. If you look back, you'll notice there was an unresolved tension, whether the deer was real or decorative, whether it moved itself out of the scene or some nefarious force moved it, and whether, if it was real if it ever found water to drink.
When you start thinking of those scenes you can see a larger framing, as we're portraying even nature itself as threatened by industrialism and those powerful interests. The mud, the weeds, the grass, the unresolved questions about the deer, all these things contribute toward making the interests more nefarious than if we just saw them (the interests) isolated in their immediate environment. It's quite a stunning set of images. It seems I can do more with just a few mundane images -- weaving them into a grand metaphorical tapestry -- than most people could do with a cast of thousands.
Then behind all this, getting beyond the techniques per se, you have a mind, a purpose, something at stake, such as the well being of the whole world against these forces. The way it's presented, it seems like the rest of the world is oblivious to the danger, willing to accept industrialism as an ongoing reality, but you have the one who recognizes the danger and stands up to it. That makes me seem very heroic, yet with an edge, because it shows me facing scorn and even ridicule for my stand. I really have to be made of something to go on with my purpose. It suggests something like we see in the crucifixion scenes of the Bible, big stuff. "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."
Someday, then, one has to assume that whether I actually prevail against the industrialists, or I die trying, that I will have a vindication, and ultimately the acclaim of the world. Even the industrialists, who have no soul and no hope, I could almost picture as coming around, giving me in the end at least a grudging respect, that I was a worthy opponent. They may not respect me today, but one day ... they will!
Lately it seems I've been expressing a great deal of paranoia about the industrialists, the bosses and brains, those blasted powers behind the industrial sections of our cities and towns.
I think paranoia is a pretty good response to their ways and their wiles, in that they wield a great deal of power, of sway, for their interests. And if their interests conflict with the interests of society as a whole, and if someone dares to stand up to them, to take them to task for it, their position of power allows them to respond with a heavy arsenal.
So what we would have in that daring person is a person who has at least partly set aside his fear and self-interest, except the self-interest of doing the right thing, of speaking for the others who aren't speaking for themselves. You've got the millions, then you have the one. The one raises his fist, maybe. The one dares to take a stand against the powers that be.
Since I am that man, and since no one else seems to be doing an homage to me, the local man who is an anti-industrialist, I'd like to offer one myself.
It seems that in my stand against the industrialists, the industrial powers, that I've done all things well. These things include my descriptions of the industrialists, the industrial sections of our cities and towns, and the sprawling blight that is the result. Like the great movie director, let's say, I've illustrated these things with the very big -- as we think of industrial sections as being very big. I've featured the giant smokestack of the monster tire factory. You'll remember those terrible scenes. Then I've gone with the very small -- which also is part of the whole mosaic of the sprawling blight and just as essential as the very big. The scenes have included things like the grass and weeds sucked down into the mud by the speeding trucks.
It's been a brilliant production, I'll say so myself. I'm very moved by the intrinsic, such as the obvious factories, conveyor belts, garages, the weird lighting, the steam vents, etc., that would have to be part of the picture. Then I'm equally moved by the seemingly incidental details, like the deer I wrote about a few weeks ago. If you look back, you'll notice there was an unresolved tension, whether the deer was real or decorative, whether it moved itself out of the scene or some nefarious force moved it, and whether, if it was real if it ever found water to drink.
When you start thinking of those scenes you can see a larger framing, as we're portraying even nature itself as threatened by industrialism and those powerful interests. The mud, the weeds, the grass, the unresolved questions about the deer, all these things contribute toward making the interests more nefarious than if we just saw them (the interests) isolated in their immediate environment. It's quite a stunning set of images. It seems I can do more with just a few mundane images -- weaving them into a grand metaphorical tapestry -- than most people could do with a cast of thousands.
Then behind all this, getting beyond the techniques per se, you have a mind, a purpose, something at stake, such as the well being of the whole world against these forces. The way it's presented, it seems like the rest of the world is oblivious to the danger, willing to accept industrialism as an ongoing reality, but you have the one who recognizes the danger and stands up to it. That makes me seem very heroic, yet with an edge, because it shows me facing scorn and even ridicule for my stand. I really have to be made of something to go on with my purpose. It suggests something like we see in the crucifixion scenes of the Bible, big stuff. "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."
Someday, then, one has to assume that whether I actually prevail against the industrialists, or I die trying, that I will have a vindication, and ultimately the acclaim of the world. Even the industrialists, who have no soul and no hope, I could almost picture as coming around, giving me in the end at least a grudging respect, that I was a worthy opponent. They may not respect me today, but one day ... they will!
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