Plague Journal, Shouting And No One Seems To Hear
How much should I care? Is care involuntary? Can I choose to care or not to care? Or what to care about? It appears that all of life, that is all that I am aware of, is involuntary… The organism, you and I are no exception, is a concatenated layered system of bio-chemical cause and effect, processing sourced energy to maintain the integrity, the order of the organism. Life is maintained with efficiency, by a quest for the “most bang for the buck.” — all life. That is, until we or the humble crawdad living under the rock at rivers edge, can no longer do so. Nothing lives forever. Everything that lives expires. You and I will have an expiration date.
Such was the backdrop of my mind as I read this morning’s New York Times story, about work in an Amazon warehouse, about the business model of Amazon. The scenario presented in the Times report is one of extraction, one of exploitation. The detail of the story feels troubling, a business model that is essentially predatory. Of course there’s no reason for surprise. Such is the natural expression of the capitalism, which we have exported the rest of the world, — to which we mindlessly subscribe.
To read the New York Times investigative report on life inside an Amazon warehouse CLICK HERE.
What about a tune, a worthy vessel to carry us over the cataract? This by Pink Floyd seems suitable. Enjoy! To be alive, is to care!
BRAIN DAMAGE/ECLIPSE
By Pink Floyd
the lunatic is on the gr-ss.
the lunatic is on the gr-ss.
remembering games and daisy chains and laughs.
got to keep the loonies on the path.
the lunatic is in the hall.
the lunatics are in my hall.
the paper holds their folded faces to the floor
and every day the paper boy brings more.
and if the dam breaks open many years too soon
and if there is no room upon the hill
and if your head explodes with dark forebodings too
i’ll see you on the dark side of the moon.
the lunatic is in my head.
the lunatic is in my head
you raise the blade, you make the change
you re-arrange me ’til i’m sane.
you lock the door
and throw away the key
there’s someone in my head but it’s not me.
and if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
you shout and no one seems to hear.
and if the band you’re in starts playing different tunes
i’ll see you on the dark side of the moon.
“i can’t think of anything to say except…
i think it’s marvelous! hahaha!”
all that you touch
and all that you see
all that you taste
all you feel
and all that you love
and all that you hate
all you distrust
all you save
and all that you give
and all that you deal
and all that you buy
beg, borrow or steal
and all you create
and all you destroy
and all that you do
and all that you say
and all that you eat
and everyone you meet (everyone you meet)
and all that you slight
and everyone you fight
and all that is now
and all that is gone
and all that’s to come
and everything under the sun is in tune
but the sun is eclipsed by the moon
2 thoughts on “Plague Journal, Shouting And No One Seems To Hear”
I am adding a few thoughts today with a bit of trepidation. There is almost always a reply to whatever missive I leave on this blog and when there is not, my insecurities kick in and I wonder if I have overstepped my welcome on your page. Regardless, I guess I didn’t feel too uncertain, otherwise I probably would not be writing this.
So, with that said, I believe there are two ways not to care what goes on in the world. The least appealing to me, would be to buy into complete cynicism and take on the mantra of: “I don’t give a damn about anything or anyone, so go away.” The other would be to shut oneself off from the rest of the world, no news, no discussions, no communication except with those of like mind. An old fashioned commune where one would be completely self-sufficient and whatever happens in the rest of the world, happens.
The problem with the second option is that we are indeed inexorably connected to our environments, no matter what we might like to do. We can’t produce food on a commune if there is a climate change induced drought, we can’t water our gardens with toxic well-water, and we can’t breathe radioactive air. So we are stuck with either the first option or we are sucked into caring about the world and what happens. I suppose there is a third option which would be to cash in one’s chips altogether and, unfortunately, we are seeing that option chosen more and more as the world takes us down a dystopian path.
The bottom line is that, from my perspective, I am very glad to know that Amazon bothers you and that your words belie your passion for human survival. I wish more people felt as strongly as you do.
As to your statement about the discomfort of leaving a comment that occasionally does not provoke a response, I think that everyone is insecure to some degree. It is discomfiting to imagine that one has spoken into the void. I usually offer a response because I feel gratitude that anyone has felt something on account of my written words. There are times when I cannot think of anything to add, to a comment that seems perfect, apropos to stand alone.
We are communal creatures, dependent upon one another and upon the earth. I suppose that is not obvious to many because they have never paused to consider the matter. Participating in the scrum of the capitalist “take no prisoners” competition is an effective means to live in denial, and to construct institutions that are mechanisms of predation…