The Artist’s Way Morning Pages for 3/27/2016
The Age of Justice
My friend, it is the age of justice. For several centuries, we have enforced God by the gun onto others. Trump at the AIPAC, five days ago I saw the future of American fascism. Il Duce steps to the stage and simply follows the same rhetoric we have seen for years in the conflict between Israel and Palestine. Gaza, Gaza don’t you cry Palestine will never die! This is the cry of disenchanted. Now, I am not a fan of radical Islam or radical Judaism or radical Christianity, but what we need is some radical new something to stand up again for reason in the age of Justice. The Age of Justice is that age where people wake up to centuries of oppression. The smartphone wielding twelve-year old has more power these days than a thirty-five year old man. In the Age of Justice, the Youth take to the streets. In waves, over years… Progressively, we will see what has happened to Greece in the past few years following the Austerity measures in the European Union. My friend Harper is a man of his country. He lives in a barrel and loves a silly, crazy mystic poet like me. He gives me hope with his solar energy designs for the refugees. Sitting in his home he builds beds and makes solar technology for Syrian refugees headed to Greece from the Fertile Crescent on Fire. In boats by the hundreds, they are coming to the colder climates because their homes are literally on fire. Torched by the Carbon Karma of the Industrial Age, their homes are spiritual ash.
Karma is a bitch. Karma forces you to examine your own excrement, you have to sit with your Karma. My Carbon Karma is dirty. Every stroke of the keyboard I type as I write this Morning Pages for The Artist’s Way program is another couple traces of coal that are burned in a power plant somewhere in south Georgia. Every mile I drive is another few trillionths of degrees Celsius that the Earth’s thermostat goes up. Yea, Gaia is on Fire. We need a new feminine conception of divinity. The old male God, the God of Abraham is a fucking looser from the Agricultural Age. The Axial Age gave birth to the diverse, but not so diverse collection of religions that we see on earth today. In that age the spiritual diversity of Earth began to decline. It used to be that each tribe had their own conception of the Unknown Know Source of Life. Some thought the Source was a woman, a divine Gaia like force. A Cosmic Mother. Agricultural society led to the Father God concept to dominate. The man could wage war and cook up all kinds of great schemes to make nation states. In my mind, after the birth of the Atomic Bomb that age ended. Oppenheimer proclaims, “I am Death, the Destroyer of Worlds!” In that breath, the West, with the dropping of two atomic weapons on Hiroshima and Nagasaki looses the spiritual and moral authority to say anything about where we should go as a species. I drop bombs. I am man. Look at me.
Well my friends, we live in a New Age now. This age is the Anthropocene, the Age of Humanity. The age of history that humanity has actual geological impacts on Earth. We build walls to separate us from each other that can be seen from space. The very fact that we can as a species build a wall to separate ourselves from each other and then send a probe into space to look at it is… Interesting, Trump wants to build a wall. Right. Well my friend, Donald J. Trump my name is Azrael. I am the Angel of Death and I am here to speak for life. We need warriors of Light in this age to level the ground for the women to assert their rightful time to rule. I am tired of seeing my friends have kids that are forced into someone’s image of how God should be. Should not the kids be able to explore the Truth on their own? Yes, we need to build structures to support them. Discipline them, punish them when they disobey. However, that is not going to get you anywhere when a kid can get on YouTube and see Hiroshima. American Christendom build the Atomic Bomb. We vaporized a city. Jesus, Little Man. Christ, Fat Man. Sorry, brothers you lost. It is time to look for something else. Disconnect. Checkout. We all have our own way.
Let me tell you something, as Azrael, I have never checked out. I have not had a time I have not seen atomic war in my dreams. Think about that. At an early age, I see Hiroshima and I have nightmares. Thank you physics. Thank you American physics. Thank you MIT. We need a new science. A science of love. What does that love look like? A nucleus of hearts waiting to be split by a cosmic chain reaction of love. Let me be a neutron bomb in this insane hyperreal culture where one image can destroy a life. I want to be the electromagnetic pulse weapon that makes it dark. Shut it down! Slow it down! We are headed for a cliff. I have wings, as a creative artist, I grow wings when I need them. I am Leonardo, the man who sits and dreams of the future. The future is not the future that we all dream of. It is a green future where the bacteria and viruses are given a chance to rule. Maybe Craig Venter will create a new kind of nanobot that wins? The silicon age will be supplanted by the age of Synthetic Genomics. In this age, the computers will be cells. The computers will be plants. We will look to the Rose for help. We will Google the Black Rose. We will Google the White Rose. We will Google the Red Rose. We will grow Google in our gardens and praise Gaia, Mother Earth for her. The Rose is the future, not the smartphone. As cool as our technology is, the life we give to the next generation is what defines us in this age. Will our children see a nuclear holocaust?
Do you know what the history of the Holocaust really is? Is it just Auschwitz? Is it is just Jews gassed and burning in fires after Martin Luther’s theological rant against the banking system? No! The Holocaust is a cultural death. A Holocaust happens every time you think, “My idea is better than that woman’s idea.” Look how fucked up she is, drug addicted at an early age. Knocked up a few times, and left with kids. I will always leave it to the Mothers to define who is God. Allah to me is a Mother. My God, Elohim is a woman. Dark Night gave me Dark Eyes, but I used those Black Eyes to see the Light. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? The Earth is on fire! Where the fuck are you?! I pray to you every night, yet somehow more keeps coming. More death, more war, more violence. Now I can wage war in virtual reality against the aliens! I know, let’s create a new technology of sitting. Let’s create a technology of coloring. Let’s create a new technology of art. Let me dye my hair blue and be an orchid child. Let me go back to school and learn to be that kid that nerds like me were told to avoid. Let’s hang out in Tha Bluff. Let’s go to the Powderhorn district and stop gentrification. Shut down the rich displacing the poor from the green spaces. Let’s give the people who do not have a lot of money the chance to live in a green space. Let’s do it in the city. Let’s do it in Sodom. Let’s plant trees and roses in Gomorrah. I want to plant America, Sodom, with roses. I want to plant trees and forget my Carbon Karma.
That is it! I am going to plant trees until I make up for my Carbon Karma! I am going to plant so many fucking trees I am putting the carbon I have burned back into the ground. The Butterfly Effect is real. Mother, my love, Gaia, dearest Mother, make me a warrior of Trees. I am the last remaining active member of the Earth Liberation Front (ELF). We have put away the dark ways of violence that our fathers taught us and accepted that as elves we are here to protect Gaia. Elves live in trees in Tolken novels. They are more spiritually advanced than humans. Elves live longer. When a tree falls, we hear it in our Soul. Gaia, mother, give me superhuman technical skills to discard the atomic nightmares. Gaia, mother, erase my memories of death. Mother Earth, heal me. I am sick and tired. Blackened Earth always gives birth to new life. Even the concentration camps grow trees and grass. Roses can grow from the ashes of the old. Orchids we all are in the best of times, in the best of soils. Make me a planter of orchids. The New Age is an age where children will garden with adults. The New Age is an age an age where old and young alike will garden. It is a human age. There is no going back to primitive earth. Solarpunkish as it sounds the future is a human crafted age, so let’s do it well. Get rid of those nuclear weapons. Even the EMPs are not so good… put away the EMPs unless you are defending Gaia. If Gaia is threatened uses it effectively then withdraw to the forest and climb. Return to the forest and plant. Hide for the day you are need again somewhere else. Hell hath no fury like the fury of an Erbil. A Turk. A Kurd. American too.
I have grown up in a hyperreal culture. One with no morals. Somehow we define ourselves against what we are trying to escape. Let’s get together and be honest with each other. Stop hiding behind religion and face each other as humans. Human to human let’s admit that God is not a Christian.
“We should not be scared of being confrontational, of facing people with the wrong that they have done. Forgiving doesn’t mean turning yourself into a doormat for people to wipe their boots on. Our Lord was very forgiving. But he faced up to those he thought were self-righteous, who were behaving in a ghastly fashion, and called them a “generation of vipers” (Matthew 23:33, KJV). Forgiveness doesn’t mean pretending things aren’t as they really are. Forgiveness is a recognition that there is a ghastliness that has happened. Forgiveness doesn’t mean trying to paper over the cracks. Forgiveness means that both the wronged and the culprits of those wrongs acknowledge that something happened. There is necessarily a measure of confrontation. People sometimes think that you shouldn’t be abrasive. But sometimes you have to be to make people acknowledge that they have done something wrong.”
― Desmond Tutu, God Is Not a Christian: And Other Provocations
No one moulds us again out of earth and clay,
no one conjures our dust.
Praised be your name, No one.
For your sake
we shall flower.
we were, are, shall
the nothing-, the
No one’s rose.
our pistil soul-bright,
with out stamen heaven-ravaged,
our corolla red
with the crimson word which we sang
over O over
– Paul Celan (German Jewish Poet)
Paul Celan’s Poetic Doubt and Affirmation of God
Paul Celan’s poem “Psalm” captures the distance that sometimes one can feel between creation/nature and God. God, if he/she exists, is invisible and noncorporeal while at the same time omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent. The tension in the Celan poem is one between faith in God and doubt, perhaps in the wake of a great tragedy. Despite possessing a tone of doubt with the phrase “No one moulds us again out of earth and clay, no one conjures our dust, No one” the voice of the poem addresses God with “Praised be your name, No one.” The presence of God is almost like a bombshell crater, great tragedy has come and imprinted itself on the author’s life and he/she is left discerning how God could allow such an event occur. Yet, there is hope in the poem that is expressed at a poetic fulcrum “For your sake we shall flower towards you.” The author seems to have hope that new growth can occur, perhaps in the bombshell crater, towards the God that he/she expresses doubt and faith in. Many examples of such growth out ashes exist. For example, the tropical paradise of Hawaii grew out of the ash of volcanos. “A nothing we were, are, shall remain, flowering: the nothing-, the no one’s rose,” suggests, however, that the author recognizes the impermanence of life. Life is fleeting and fragile, he/she seems to doubt that life will be redeemed by God. God’s weakness seems to stand large in the author’s mind. Perhaps a great evil has occurred and God has “let it happen.” Given Celan’s history, the poem’s tone may reflect that he may be writing in the wake of World War II and Auschwitz. “With our pistil soul-bright, with out stamen heaven-ravaged, our corolla red with the crimson word which we sang over O over the thorn.” Here the new life that has grown, a flower, still has an aspect of darkness, the flower still has thorns. The poem as a whole expresses the balance between good and evil, white and black that exists in life. How should one live in the context of such a complex balance? Combining two quotes by Ai Weiwei and Thich Nhat Hanh one gets a solution to this dilemma, “A small act is worth a million thoughts. I have lost my smile, but don’t worry. The dandelion has it.” Remain aware of the Light of God in the face of tragedy by looking to the simple things and remaining faithful to the next smile. You do not always have to be happy, just aware of the next smile.