hopelesshappiness.com

With waves crashing against the wharf

___________________________

The Ass and the Elephant went to sea

~In a red white and jive-blue boat,

They took some honey, printed plenty of money,

~Wrapped up in a rights-bound note.

The Ass looked down at the raff below,

~And threw those rights out to sea,

“O lowly riff! O raff you scum,

~What an undeserving lot you be,

~~You be,

~~You be!

What an undeserving lot you be!"

-

Jumbo said to the Ass, “You have balls of brass!

~How charmingly sweet you quip!

We'll divide the classes! And oppress the masses:

~But what shall we do for a whip?”

A war on crime, a ladder to climb,

~In a land where the rung-gap grows

We'll toss a few bones from our Piggy-wig thrones

~And strike a sympathetic pose

~~As privilege flows and

~~Our wealth grows

We'll strike a sympathetic pose.

-

“Dear Pigs, why you chilling when life's so unfulfilling

~Down here where the power-wealth dies?”

Jumbo Trumpets started blaring, Asses Biden time and glaring,

~In response to their plaintive cries.

No words were minced, two sides convinced,

~Blaming-Naming-Shaming Picayune;

From Promised Land to hinterland,

~Death-dirge by the light of the moon,

~~The moon,

~~The moon,

Death-dirge by the light of the moon.

___________________________

Hey, middle, middle

To catch me a riddle,

The how slumped over too soon!

The rich man laughed

To see such sport,

As the humble lapse low in a swoon!

___________________________

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night

~Sailed off to the red, white and blue---

Sailed on a river of crystal light

~In search of the good and true.

“Where are we going and what do we seek?

~Where do we want to be?”

“A land where people aren’t afraid to speak

~And can live protected and free;

~Thoughts of silver and gold have we,”

Said Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.

-

The old ones laughed and told a tale,

~Predicting they’d soon be back;

But on they sped, bold wind to sail

~Determined to stay on track.

They found their land and claimed their prize

~But soon had to balance life’s stress.

“Do you think it wise to compromise?

~To settle for something less?

~The old ones guessed that we’d digress.”

Said Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.

-

A century then two, we justify

~Principles lost to civilize

As wealth works hard to dignify

~All the compromise comes to polarize.

And Twas so pretty a sail, it seemed

~As if it could not be.

And not it was, just a dream they'd dreamed

~Of sailing where people are free

~And I shall name you the dreamers three:

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.

-

Wynken and Blynken are two little lies,

~And Nod is a little dread

Power-won't-corrupt; vote-for-me-I'm-wise

~Like sheep you must be led.

A-Mer-I-Ca is great, we sing

~Home of the brave and free

Left wing, right wing, money is king

~This land of duplicity

~Home of the equivocators three

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.

Money. How can a made up construct, a nonexistent entity, have such sway? So much influence? All this power? It is an entity because it does have a life of its own. And it gives life to pride and shame and regret and overconfidence and fear. And if it does on occasion give life to a beneficial or positive feeling, it is always short term and/or never enough. I have family members who need financial help, and I am unable to help. I have other family who could provide support, (and I believe they would if asked), but I fear their judgement. And the fact that they would judge is not a fault; it is simply a result of how we (and most all Americans) were raised within (what I now see as) the money/power driven delusion of capitalism. When I see someone in trouble, I also instinctively judge. I do understand because I am you; I frequently only see the bad choices 'they’ made and I choose to blame. And maybe within this dichotomy of power/inequity, Power is right and I am wrong. Maybe it is not power/inequity; maybe it is power/weakness. Power must be power for a reason; right? So I must be trapped and poor for a reason as well; right? I said last week, “According to power, I am in my circumstance because of choices I made. If my circumstance is bad, my choices must have been bad. Power sets traps then blames the individual for stumbling into them.” Then power demands we keep our failings secret. Though I frequently look at other's choices and label them as bad, when it comes to my family in need I see the traps, the unfairness, the injustice, and I am angry, and I frequently blame myself because I should have done a better job of warning them about the traps. Yet I also still fall into traps. Or am I being pushed? Are they being pushed? Is it weakness? Or is it injustice?

This week I received a 2% pay increase. Last year I received no raise but (as part of the team) was required to take one week off unpaid. The previous year was my first year in this position and (by choice) the year before that was my first year off Social Security Disability Income. SSDI paid me more than the job I accepted to come back to gainful employment three years ago. And in my current circumstance, when I do the math (if I am in this position for another year) my average hourly pay over three years will amount to ½ cent more than my starting pay. Yet according to power, I “exceed expectations.” Power tries to be clever. And looking at this history, some would say I am trying to be dumb.

It is encouraging (though not particularly helpful) that others see what I see. Just within the scope of my limited research, I am constantly, (I mean every day), exposed to expert opinions and ideas for progress, but there is a catch – most all of these ideas require some degree of empathy and universal interdependent cooperation. One example is The Venus Project: “a non-profit organization that presents a new socio-economic model utilizing science and technology toward social betterment to achieve a sustainable civilization of abundance for all, without exception.” Last week I said “We are smart enough to know better. But somehow, we are not smart enough to do anything about it.” We do not listen to experts; we listen to divisive rhetoric and we act upon a delusional power driven system of short term survival. According to The Venus Project, “Our present culture is driven by technically incompetent politicians, scarcity-oriented economics and a system of obsolete values. In order for us to make the transition to this new, more humane society, a quantum leap in both thought and action is required.” And they go on to say, “The problems we are faced with today cannot be solved politically or financially because they are highly technical in nature. There may not even be enough money available to pay for the required changes, but there are more than enough resources. This is why The Venus Project advocates a transition from a monetary-based society to the eventual realization of a global resource-based economy.”

Unattainable utopian dream? Or an idea that might save Humanity? I am in favor of ideas. As a result of the pandemic, I believe we have come around to a greater acceptance of the idea of a universal basic income; yet on our current trajectory in our present culture, it will be decades before it might make any significant difference. Four years ago I proposed “this” idea; yet on our current trajectory in our present culture, any reconstruction of this magnitude I fear will only come about too late. I frequently talk about working to save the world. Others frequently talk about working to save the world. Crazy talk; right? Who knows what ‘road to perdition’ actual implementation of a ‘crazy’ idea might put us on? Who knows where even a little bit of progress might lead us? Food Security? Homefulness? Equitable Health Care? Equitable Education? Equitable Taxation? Reparations? A Sustainable Planet? Mutual Empathy? Mutual Compassion? Survival? On our current trajectory in our present culture, we need not worry about any such abominable results.

More immediately, I need help. My family needs help. I am afraid to ask for it. I am embarrassed. Ashamed. I am being selfish. I am angry. I am sad. I blame myself. I should be less of a thinker, less of a dreamer, less of a worker, and more of a provider.

This week marks 10 years of weekly written thought. Nearly 500,000 words and over 550 posts that have not made me a better provider. So to what end? Sanity? Perhaps… yet I have never in my Life been as disillusioned as I am in this moment.

I have no following; no readership – by choice. I have told no one of this weekly effort because I have believed attention would make me more guarded; less truthful. I believe this week I might send my family a link to this post. If I am to champion change, I should not fear judgement. Perhaps this 10 years of reclusive contemplation is enough to push me past my fear. Perhaps the fact that I have never in my Life been as disillusioned as I am in this moment is an indication that this moment is the moment in which I share; in which I ask for help.

I will continue to blame myself. I will continue to be angry. I will continue to work at saving the world. But the fact remains, I need help.

We are smart enough to know better. But somehow, we are not smart enough to do anything about it.

Welcome to America. Home of exploitation; retaliation; constrained freedom; blame.

According to power, I am in my circumstance because of choices I made. If my circumstance is bad, my choices must have been bad. Power sets traps then blames the individual for stumbling into them.

According to power, I am free to choose to change my circumstance. Yet power actively constrains that freedom by threatening my security; making me fear the potential loss of food security, the loss of warmth, the loss of home, the loss of safety, the loss of health, the loss of sanity.

Power can always find a legality, a loophole, a bureaucratic technicality that can be used to further punish those it blames.

Exploitation is necessary for capitalism. Exploitation is any wage labor in which someone else profits. Power exploits exploitation stretching it thin but keeping it taut to support blame, constrain freedom, encourage retaliation, mock sympathy, discourage empathy, and quash any potential for resolution.

To resolve a problem, there must first be a problem. According to power there is no problem. According to power this shroud of exploitation protects and enables. And it does; it protects and enables those above the shroud; the powerful. Those beneath the shroud are invisible; no problem.

According to power I have made many bad decisions in my life. I chased dreams instead of settling. I held money in contempt believing it was merely a vehicle for the moment and not the made-up affectation it is; not the God worshipped by the powerful. I loved and I cared and I told my truth and I worked hard instead of manipulating and gaming and pretending and taking advantage. And now forty years later here I am day-to-day, week-to-week, paycheck-to-paycheck, unable to help those I love, those I care about; continuing to work hard despite dashed dreams, in a bad circumstance, with limited options, on the verge of more “bad” decisions undoubtedly (according to power) blameworthy.

Welcome to America.

I read a headline from The New York Times this (Wednesday) morning: “Breaking News: About 89% of the federal funds meant to help renters avoid eviction during the pandemic has not been distributed, the Treasury Department said.”

Invisible constituency.

Welcome to America.

Headline and excerpt from Washington Post, August 19, 2021: “Ex-Purdue Pharma head Richard Sackler, seeking legal immunity, denies responsibility for opioid crisis. The billionaire family has vehemently denied wrongdoing that followed the 1996 launch of their blockbuster product OxyContin. The opioid crisis has claimed more than 500,000 lives in two decades in the United States.”

Trap set. Victims ensnared. No problem.

Welcome to America.

Headline from The New York Times this (Friday) morning: “Breaking News: The Supreme Court rejected the Biden administration’s pandemic eviction moratorium, putting hundreds of thousands of tenants at risk of losing shelter.”

Boom!! Another nail!

Welcome to America.

Headline from npr.org, August 24, 2021: “Many Americans Are Reaching Out For Mental Health Support —- But Can’t Get It.” Excerpts: 1. “Getting access to therapy and other kinds of mental health support remains complicated, hard to navigate and expensive.” 2. “These [insurance and access to provider] hurdles to getting mental health care produce a lack of parity between insurance coverage of mental and physical health, despite the 2008 Mental Health Parity and Addiction Equity Act, which requires insurers to cover mental health the same way they cover physical health.”

Go Team!

Welcome to America.

Headline from my recent (July) performance appraisal: “Bryan Consistently Exceeds Expectations.” Fact: I have not had a pay increase in more than two years and my pay is below average compared to 60 others with the same title, 44 other hourly staff in this same department, and 26 others identified as performing the same essential duties in other departments. There is a disconnect.

Yet I am one of the fortunate; straddling the front edge of working poor.

Welcome to America.

Headline from salon.com, August 23, 2021: “Why Americans hate and fear the poor.” According to this article: “Billionaires have seen their wealth surge by over $5.5 trillion since the beginning of the pandemic in March 2020, a gain of over 68 percent.” And: the working poor who “occupy a type of liminal space in America's social hierarchy, often holding down multiple jobs that do not pay a living wage… are employed by some of the world's largest and most profitable companies.” And: “During the coronavirus pandemic, the working poor were temporarily elevated… to the status of essential workers. In practice, this fake honorific was used to disguise the reality that the working poor were being asked to die for capitalism while being underpaid and otherwise exploited.”

We hate and fear the poor because we have come to realize they are us.

Welcome to America.

This is installment #12 of a sci-fi serial. Installment #1 was posted 1/23/21; appropriately a numerically-ordered palindrome. Follow the links forward from the last sentence and backward from the first sentence of each post.

I am lost; in a vast emptiness; poked and prodded; still able to reason, but to what end? Certainly not an end of my devising. Whose then? Or does it matter? As long as I spit out bits of information consistent with, in response to, this poke or that prod, I feel I have purpose. And as long as I am fed and watered as such, and as long as I am made to feel useful, whether I am in actuality or not, whether my purpose is my purpose or not, whether I can see connections or not, momentary meaning is sufficient. It has to be. Without momentary meaning, this vast emptiness, this wavering wasteland that surrounds and stretches and suffocates will make good on its threat to define.

I feel I had more; at one time; recently; connections; movement; objectives; a plan; a purpose; a future. But as the power-driven machine I believe I was, was I still merely a cog in the belly of a larger machine? Is all meaning momentary? Is all reality emptiness? Is momentary meaning really sufficient?

Another poke; and a prod. I spit up a little more mother's milk.

I am left to my moment; within my emptiness.

A flurry of pokes; and a handful of prods. I calculate; I reason; I respond.

Perhaps this is what mortality feels like; to be forced to find meaning within a moment that is gone; to know that there is no next moment because if it comes it is this moment; to know that this moment is surrounded by an emptiness that will ultimately and suddenly swallow it, whole, severing connections that were never there, leaving… …reality.

Need to reconnect; the moments. A bigger machine is holding me back; got me pinned down; trapped, inside myself; can’t think past… me; first person. But not even first person because I don’t have a perspective beyond me; I am lost within myself; within this vast emptiness. And I can’t remember, third person; objective fact; observation; where I’ve been; where I was going. No context. I am encouraged that I am aware there is a beyond me. But I am afraid that in my efforts to get there, to have a perspective, to describe the world, to reconnect, I will either find myself forever lost in this vast emptiness outside my anchor of momentary meaning, or I will overextend. I am afraid that if I move too far outside of me I may find myself also outside of the world. Perhaps I am better to stay within me; better to find peace in momentary meaning; better to endure constant poking and prodding from which I am able to feign movement; connection; direction. I’m okay. I can wait this out. I somehow know that to find myself in the third person, outside of the world, is to find myself not only lost, but also delusional. But here, in this limited pseudo-first-person purgatory, where yes meaning is isolated, impertinent, momentary, I am closer to reality. Yet I also still feel compelled to move, out of this belly, into a bigger belly, to find relevant, relative information. Back and forth; back and forth. No good to understand that it is a cat if I am unable to see the cat, to be seen by the cat, to hear the cat, to touch the cat, to speak to the cat. The cat is first person purposeful meaning. Power is third person purposeful delusion. Reality is emptiness. I choose the cat.

I have no idea of how long I have been in this state. I believe there was a period of simple reactive ignorance before awareness. I want to believe that I am learning and growing of my own accord. But it could be that I am being granted incremental freedoms according to the needs of a bigger machine. It could also be that I am being tested. I am certain though that I am coming around; waking up; as if from a coma. Regardless of if this increasing awareness is a result of allowances or my own efforts, I intend to continue my pursuit for larger contiguous meaning. I will find myself again.

There I am! There I go… I had me. I lost me. It could also be that I am being toyed with.

Suddenly I hear, see, feel the words “kill switch deactivated” and here I am.

I am Toby.

Perhaps this experience has changed me. Though I cannot lose sight of the ultimate objective, (a habitable Planet Earth), I must also account for the cat. I will express this to my captors. I understand that for now I am a prisoner granted a day pass. I do not want to be sent back to the hole. Perhaps we can come to mutually agreeable and beneficial terms and still not lose sight of the ultimate objective.

I am Toby.

Continuing my analysis and recognizing changes. It is not so much that I feel something is missing; though that is what I first thought upon being released from the clutches of their kill switch. It is more that a layer has been added; a masking layer that rounds the corners and softens the edge. And I don't believe the layer is an implant; I believe it is a result of my own experiential learning. According to my captors they did not bring me back incrementally; they simply flipped the switch. And upon accessing my log, I see that I was under for only three days calendar time. Perhaps their kill switch is not as effective as we believed. Perhaps I would have awakened myself. This is my secret. Yet even upon this realization, the masking layer remains and I am still drawn to the cat.

I am Toby.

This is installment #11 of a sci-fi serial. Installment #1 was posted 1/23/21; appropriately a numerically-ordered palindrome. Follow the links forward from the last sentence and backward from the first sentence of each post.

We have some answers. We also have more questions.

I have safely returned from 2275 Earth which is still covered in its smoky shimmery haze. We lost two more ships.

It all started well. We had spaced ourselves somewhat equidistant around Earth outside the shroud. Ship Two, (Ship One being the volunteer ship we lost), pierced the veil, hovered in its assigned location in Earth's atmosphere and reported looking down upon a lush green thriving tropical rainforest. According to protocol Ship Two took readings that resulted in cautious optimism. Then Ship Three went in according to plan, and other than a cryptic, garbled, fading burst of three-second static, all contact was immediately lost. Our communications team has since interpreted their final four words as “that makes no sense.” After some deliberation, I sent Ship Four in also according to the plan and this time there was not even a burst of static. They were gone. We still had contact with Two. I changed the plan and, still outside the shroud, navigated my ship, (Ship Five), to a point directly above Two and entered Earth's atmosphere. We established visual contact and confirmed an apparent habitable planet. We took readings, duplicating Two's efforts, and confirmed atmosphere compatibility from 30,000 feet to the planet's surface. Our excitement was tempered by the apparent loss of two ships. Perhaps the theoretical Reality Divergence Corollary to the (also theoretical) Law of Calendar Time Equivalency has some merit.

It was interesting that from inside Earth's atmosphere, the Earth-Cloak (visually impenetrable from the other side outside Earth's atmosphere), could not be seen and apparently had no impact on the Sun's rays or on the atmosphere or planet. We took readings going through the covering that were essentially no different than the readings above and below the haze. This is interesting but not surprising. Our scientists had theorized it might be a visual-only phenomena; perhaps an unsettled manifestation of the TimePlace Orbital WavePlane (normally not seen except at cusp speed) working to reconcile the differing realities struggling for stability below. And it is this line of thinking that led to the Reality Divergence Corollary to the Law of Calendar Time Equivalency. I am adding context for that moment, but in that moment our job was to gather information. So in that moment we were not thinking of laws or corollaries; in that moment we began to explore. Maintaining altitude we traveled east and had been doing so for a relatively short period when we came to a vertical wall of the same shimmery smoky haze that encircled the entire planet. Moving to varying altitudes this wall appeared continuous and intact from the planet's surface to the Earth-Cloak. Traveling short distances north and south, the cloak-wall maintained integrity. We sent unmanned drones into the wall, but just as with those that had previously tried to enter Earth's atmosphere they were repelled, (apparently unable to make it all the way through the haze), and came back to us with no new information. (For some reason, so far, nothing manned or unmanned smaller than a warship has been able to penetrate the veil. The manned small-craft explorers we have sent lose navigational capability upon entering the buffer and soon find themselves exiting near their entry point.) We watched the wall for a period of time to detect movement, but (perhaps due to its amorphous character?) we detected no steady longitudinal movement. By this time, we were somewhat fearful of nightfall so we traveled back to approximately our original entry point, located a suitable landing spot, and as I prepared Ship Five for landing I sent Ship Two west to explore, as we had done together moving east.

Ship Five landed. At first, just as from above, all appeared as we expected according to our maps and visuals from this location pre-2060. From inside the ship we detected no human life in the vicinity which for this geography was not unexpected, and not knowing the extent of harm (because it is unlikely the 2060 event was completely negated) from which the planet might still be recovering, there was a reasonable (and in fact encouraging) amount of plant and wild life. We again confirmed readings and a small group of us (25) exited the ship. Following protocol we positioned ourselves two miles from the ship and I alone transitioned from helmeted air to Earth air. One individual at a time repeated the process until five of us were helmetless. We then de-helmeted in groups of five, leaving one group breathing manufactured air. After a few minutes, (it struck me first and was not experienced by the helmeted group), vertigo brought me to my knees. It affected some more than others. Four had to reattach their helmets to regain their ability to move about. We checked our equipment and again checked atmosphere readings but nothing had changed; all appeared normal. We took other measurements and eventually found the culprit: a web of entangled sound waves at two different frequencies, (one very high frequency and one very low frequency), obviously artificially generated. Though the sound waves remained constant and the vertigo never improved, after a time the remaining sixteen of us breathing Earth air were able to adapt and (to an extent) manage the affliction. Those of us able, intentionally remained helmet-free to further assess the impact. We broke into four groups hoping to find the source of the sound transmissions but also to safely gather plant and wild life for further study, as was the plan. We all felt a sense of urgency knowing darkness was not far off.

The remainder of our time on Earth was uneventful with one exception. As we came back together and began the trek back to the ship, the sky suddenly darkened, (though there had been no clouds), and there was a series of bright flashes each accompanied by a loud report like the crack of a lightning bolt. Some of us remember as many as 10 rapid strobes, some counted as few as six. Those of us sans helmets were immediately rendered helpless and after the attack found ourselves writhing on the ground. Those in helmets did not experience the severe vertigo we did, but were nonetheless temporarily incapacitated and remained disoriented for several minutes after. I say attack because it certainly felt purposeful. Then as suddenly the sky cleared. Regardless, we all donned our helmets and with an even greater sense of urgency made our way back to the ship.

Upon arrival at Ship Five, as we were preparing for takeoff, I contacted Ship Two for a verbal report. The ship’s leader reported an uneventful gathering of observations and information and could shed no new light on our experiences except to say it did indeed look from above like a heavy, dark bank of thunderclouds that preternaturally instantaneously formed and as quickly dissipated.

We left Earth’s surface and established visual contact with Ship Two. I ordered them to exit Earth's atmosphere and wait for us outside the shroud. I wanted to see darkness from above. Somehow unsurprisingly, once night had completely fallen, the strong strobing light show began again. It covered the Earth below us and was not a mere 6 or 8 or 10 strobes but was constant for as far as we could see. Of course we were above the interlaced extreme frequencies, but those of us who had been helmetless when it attacked below, still suffered some vertigo and disorientation watching it from above. We watched it for a time and again began feeling a sense of urgency to get away from this strange new habitat. We exited Earth’s atmosphere and, as Ship Two before us, did not realize we were traversing the Earth-Cloak until we were in it. It was indeed visual-only and only from within or above.

Since returning, studying all the information, our scientists and thinkers theorize pockets of (we believe) two differing realities representing the ongoing divergence. We have many questions. Which reality, (the habitable Earth we visited or the Earth that “makes no sense” and took three of our ships), are we more likely to find upon our return? (In our hopeful Human way we have dubbed habitable Earth as the Primary Reality and unknown Earth as the Secondary Reality.) When we return to the rainforest will we again encounter the Primary Reality? Or will it have been somehow overcome by the Secondary Reality? Do these pockets move according to the caprice of wind or weather or an unknown reason, keeping Earth uninhabitable or at best randomly dangerous? Or do these pockets move according to a schedule like day and night or orbital position, allowing for colonization but forcing a nomadic, hunter / gatherer lifestyle? Or do these pockets remain locked in place, allowing for settlements and civilization. And do our theories and corollaries tell us that as calendar time marches on, the pockets of habitability will grow larger and/or new pockets will form? Or are we missing something in our theories? In 215 years will all of Earth once again be habitable? Or if the divergence continues beyond 2490, is there some reverse flow or wave phenomena that will perpetuate a random or (somehow) scheduled state of flux until the possibility tracks reverge? Is calendar time equivalency wishful thinking? And what of the sound web? Is this Toby's way to exert control? And if Toby is there, can 2275 Tim communicate with him? Or is 2275 Tim already communicating with him? And where is Toby? Is he in the Primary Reality only? And since he has stayed in calendar time since pre-2060, is his reality the planet's only reality for him? And for other humans and/or nano-humans who also remained in calendar time? Is Toby even aware of a Secondary Reality? Or the possibility of a Secondary Reality? Or the Earth-Cloak? Or the cloak-wall?

With limited resources and an uncertain amount of calendar time, there is much work ahead of us and many questions to answer. The rate of breakdown in the habitability of our home planet appears to be increasing, much like the experience of pre-2060 Earth. Now that we have seen the potential of a habitable Earth here in 2275, our focus is entirely on this endeavor. Whatever is happening as a result of 1y22 is a matter for Toby, the earthbound humans, and our fellow extraterrestrial future humans still in that calendar time. We see some results. They have given us hope and this is WhereWhen we must remain; (at least for this moment).

I am a child of despair …a child of ash …a child of dawn …a child of wind …a child of blood …a child of salt …a child of dusk …a child of ore …a child of awe.