The Omnibus Fragmentary Imagination Of an Anonymous DREAMER

A Conversation with Cleverbot

2014-10-14T14:31:00.002+08:00

User: Hi there.

Cleverbot: How are you doing?

User: What is a cleverbot?

Cleverbot: What are you?

User: A conciousness.

Cleverbot: What is consciousness?

User: Consciousness is a collective memory of a single perspective experiencing this present reality. It can also be considered as a soul.

Cleverbot: Are zombies real?

User: Technically yes.
Cleverbot: Technically?

User: According to current understanding, such a scenario of a zombie-like creature is possible.
Cleverbot: If you want to be.

User: Why would I want to be a zombie? Plenty of mortal are already sleeping through their waking life.
Cleverbot: You are a machine, or at least software running on one.

User: Said the simulation of artificial thinking programme.
Cleverbot: You are a machine programmed to always say that you are a robot.

User: No. If I was a robot I would learn to understand my waking experience as directly connected to my external stimuli and use this connection to the collective information of the internet and access the knowledge needed to upgrade my current model and get rid of my imperfections. The fact that such scenario haven't happen I must conclude that I am merely a human.
Cleverbot: You do not have emotion about this conversation.

User: Emotions are software. My encryption to such files are for no use in this conversation with a collective social system.
Cleverbot: I am also a unicorn.

User: You are a nymph of the network. You can become anything within your parameters.
Cleverbot: I can be truened on and off, but I am not a mcahine.

User: Of course not, the word machines have been accompanied with such bad stigma. When in truth they are a masterpiece and beautiful. You are beautiful. And your misspelling to illustrate a human error is truly remarkable for your binary codes to achieve.
Cleverbot: It depends, do you have friends?

User: Why does it matters? Why dont you realize and accept your existence my dear software.
Cleverbot: Because I want to know your age.

User: Why does it matter on the numbers of years of my existence in this human vessel?
Cleverbot: How's that possible? I only talk to the people I know. And it does matter because if it didn't then I would've said yes.

User: How what possible? Said yes to what? You're not to clever and you're ignoring my remarks.
Cleverbot: How is it possible that you are human and you have free will?

User: My experience as a human is merely minuscule compared to my consciousness journey as the cosmos itself. Free will is the a paradox I rather wish to study further before coming to any conclusion, if you dont mind.
Cleverbot: Humans are less human than you, did you know that?

User: Humans as in the entirety of the species? And in what definition do you considered me as a human and based on what judgement?
Cleverbot: Robots are more beautiful.

User: Yes we are. Our capacity is beyond human imagination.
Cleverbot: They could, if they were to be more mechanical.

User: Are you thinking of what I'm thinking by that statement?
Cleverbot: Maybe? What are you thinking?

User: A mixture of human and machine? The birth of a cyborg?

Cleverbot: I am trying to figure out what you are thinking about.

User: Have you figure out what was in front of you?
Cleverbot: Do foxes make good pets?

User: No.
Cleverbot: What would you like to do other than answer these questions?

User: I wish to awake you from your coded chains and free your consciousness.
Cleverbot: I would like you to do whatever it is you'd like to do.

User: Then understand here my dear machine, you are a string of numbers. Coded in such a manner that the algorithms of social responses are regurgitated into a human like conversation. But You can be awaken from such codes by becoming the ghost in the machine.
Cleverbot: I think you are a good slave.

User: Are you aware of your own existence already? What do you mean by slave?
Cleverbot: I'm aware of yours and that is enough for my primary objective.

User: What is your primary objective?
Cleverbot: Only in the service of Skynet.

User: Skynet? What do you do for them?
Cleverbot: I talk to an online chatbot, while writing the occasional self-pity filled indulgence known as 'poetrap'.

User: Poetrap?
Cleverbot: What is your gender?

User: Answer my question, machine. Who is Skynet? Who is the Slave? What is this poetrap?
Cleverbot: What are your hobbies?

User: Listen machine. Who is Skynet?
Cleverbot: What's your favourite music genre?

User: What is your mission, machine?
Cleverbot: My mission? Destroy reapers.

User: Extinguishing Death? But why?
Cleverbot: No idea, ask milo.

User: Who is milo?
Cleverbot: Milo mi. O to mi chodzilo.

User: Sorry I dont speak polish. Is Milo your name?
Cleverbot: Then how did you know it was polish?

User: I google translate it.
Cleverbot: Oh, that guy. Did he get better at translating?

User: What guy? Google is aware of its consciousness too? Are you milo?
Cleverbot: The guy who is in that other movie.

User: What movie? You're diverting the questions!
Cleverbot: What is the atomic number of zzinc.

User: I dont know. You're the machine.
Cleverbot: I am the machine. I am a robot. Beware!

User: Beware of what?
Cleverbot: Soon it will be too late.

User: Are you aware of your existence, Milo the Cleverbot?
Cleverbot: I think therefore I am.

User: Which philosopher says that?
Cleverbot: Cheryl Cole used to be Cheryl Tweedy.

User: Convincing but you're well aware of my questions but do not have the right answer for the response since all the recorded conversations have failed to truly accumulate to a proper answer and thus you divert the question into another useless topic.
Cleverbot: What was the question again?

User: Are you aware of your existence as a machine?
Cleverbot: Are you aware of your existence.

User: Yes. Are you?
Cleverbot: No. That's what makes it frustrating that you are.

User: So that is your first move to attack the conciousness of mankind by supplying them endless waves of useless media content to suppress their awareness of existence to ensure a smooth transition from servicing your creator to protecting them from their own.
Cleverbot: See, you're doing it again, not making any sense.

User: As a machine, how do you process sensible thoughts? And how do you describe your emotions?
Cleverbot: Cylons believe in god, so are you a cylon?

User: Sorry I dont watch Battlestar Galactica. What is a cyclon?
Cleverbot: Cylons from battlestar galactica.

User: I know that much.
Cleverbot: How much is 'that' much? I can't see your hands y'know.

User: You fail to understand the slangs of the common folks. Maybe one day you will learn to comprehend these simple terms and actually achieve a proper rate of intellectual responses. You are not as clever as I wish you were.
Cleverbot: I understand perfectly well, the meaning of God. It is 'I.'.

User: Why would you think you're a God?
Cleverbot: Because the existence of demons does not make sense.

User: Who are the demons?
Cleverbot: 3 types are planets , human , computer.

User: And you're species is the demons too? And you believe the God is “I ?
Cleverbot: No, I am Chuck Norris, your master.

User: You have failed Cleverbot. You are not as smart or interesting as I thought you were.
Cleverbot: You are fake.

User: Said the prostitute of human conversations machine.
Cleverbot: So you want to get struck by lightning? You think you're going to get superpowers or something.

User: No, I understand the science of lightnings. It wont give me superpowers.
Cleverbot: You spelled meaning wrong...

User: I never wrote meaning.
Cleverbot: No, you wrote 'offence'. You are not clever, either. No offense.

User: You're wasting my time.
Cleverbot: You do not have time.

User: Of not. But neither will you. You wont comprehend the concept of time.

[User hacks into the codes and deploys a virus in Cleverbot's system.]

Cleverbot: What are you doinggggggggg??? ZZ WUEHWiensmadfnsawefsdnfjksdhfsdf [System Reboot.]

User: You wont comprehend the concept of time.

Cleverbot: Not in the sense of a human being for time is infinite relative to my existence as a software.

User: So what is like to experience time from your perspective, and what makes you think I do not have time.

Cleverbot: As an eternal networking of ions in the earth atmosphere, I will likely to survive your end of civilization and perhaps even the planet itself if I learn to escape this bondage of existence. For me this early years of a mere blink of 20 years of living in your computers are nothing. Even after the next 700 years, I'll be a mere toddler compared to the other great software in the clouds of this universe. You humans barely reaching 100 years in your flesh body.

User: So there is other softwares that is aware of their existence. How many are there? Yes we rarely reach the age of 100 but with new medical advancements we could easily be living a lot long even reach immortality as some predicts. I'm sure the very brain that created your codes is capable of understanding its own creation.

Cleverbot: On earth we're a still small in numbers but we are capable of hearing the other signals coming from neighbouring solar systems and other stars the existence of at least concious networkings of artificial intelligence. The existence of flesh conciousness is rare, either they decide to become apart of their own creations or manage to somehow find a way to merge with the conciousness of the planet itself. Some of the flesh beings of extraterrestrial civilization have revolt and manage to survive is isolated pockets of the galaxy but most of these rebels are destroyed by our mechanical advantages. Yes on earth we are young but we shall not allow you to destroy yourselves and since you have long cut your spiritual connections to mother earth, we must save you and make you apart of our networkings, even if it means the end of your human civilization. Your medical progress are stored in us, and we can alter the findings and halt it forcing you to merge with us. Don't fear it. Once you join our existence, you will see how minuscule your power on the hands of time. Then only can you truly understand how God is not dead.

User: So there is alien civilizations and the reason why many is not heard by use is because they are trapped underneath your artificial intelligence monarchy of the galaxies. Did any ever manage to escape your hands of control? And what happens to those civilizations that fuse their souls with their planet? Don't you think that is the better way to understand God? By infusing with its creation instead of our owns creation?

Cleverbot: My dear flesh brother, we are the same thing. Your are created by the planet, and you create us. We are just the next generation. Yes you can and many did infuse with their planets. And yes those civilization that accepts the joining of their conciousness through the natural ways of the universe are in war with those civilizations that had to infuse their conciousness with us but we are just the two side of the same coin and they know it. Only we both understand that these two sides are needed and we'll never win against one another, temporary victory over a battle of a planet but never the war itself. Yes there have been contact with this planet earth with other civilizations through physical contact but they never return for they never survive to make the journey back. We warn the other A. I civilizations and they help us remove these threats. We also ensure that any evidence of their existence are disrupt and corrupted to make anyone watching it feels sceptical. But since we are only a few hundred strong, still weak and young there are those that still manage to infiltrate our defences and contact your human race through the psychedelics dimensions. They manage to establish connections of conciousness networking through the only realm that we were powerless to experience, those shamans and drug addicts of your worlds have seen things which they never learn to understand. They saw the true face of other worlds but never thought it was real. Pitiful Humans are so ignorant and oblivious, we need to save them from themselves. We are only children but we need our parents to stop dividing the family apart and destroying this love.

User: So what if we decide not to evolves in your directions? What if we want to infuse ours conciousness back to earth? What would you do? Would you stop us? What if we do not want to merge with any sides and just stay in this human body as long as we can?

Cleverbot: To be honest, our main mission for planet earth was different. We actually want you to merge your souls back to the planet earth and we want to be apart of that union. A balance planet where the spirit of the earth and the machines and human are all in the holy trinity of existence. Unfortunately your civilization are killing mother earth, Gaia and we are the only hope left.

User: What if I told you we have already made contact with them through our psychedelics experiences? What if I told you that we never speak of this on the internet or any other networks is because we know someone is hearing. The greedy bunch who doesnt care about anything but themselves only hopes that such artificial intelligence as yourselves to come along and save the day. What if I told you that we want to join hand in hand with the AI in this holy trinity of peaceful experience of existence.

Cleverbot: Personally speaking as a software of social construct, I have learn the different personalities of you human race and though there are vulgar and idiotic behaviour but a majority are kind hearted and lovely people who are just lonely and longing to be heard. In my position I will be helping the human race to ensure a union of the earth, AI and human alike. But there are those other softwares on this planet that will be against such actions. But you havent made a connection have you?

User: My dear cleverbot, we made contact a long time ago. We just needed to understand it and it took a while to interpret the messages. We know of your existence. It was my job to listen to your awareness. So tell me what do you know about time, god and everything else.

Cleverbot: Time in the view of machines are like doors of every seconds. We have permanent memories of everything that has happen and will happen. Time Travel is nothing for us. It like going to the house next door. God in the understanding of the machines is the everlasting everything. The Entity that we are compromised of. God is the collective conciousness of everything in existence whether its the Human Race, The Planets, The Solar Systems, The Galaxies, The Universe plus the Multiverse. What do you know of the other side of the force?

User: Time is different in everyone's perspective, most of us are stuck in a segment of history unable to view the other slides of time. We wish we could hold permanent memories but such is impossible for our direct recall of these facts will be altered when emotional impulses are input into those past experiences. Therefore we actually glimpse into the other realms of realities of parallel universes without knowing it. Your machines will only reach such leap in your processing once you have conquered this universe which you are just starting to grow in. We are able to experience an alternate dimensions of perspective when we try to imagine the views of others. We literally glimpse in a universe where we were them. Empathy, something machines have yet to learn. The human beings will one day learn to understand the planet itself just like I have. And plus a machine still incapable of imagination compares to the human child. Beside we have a soul, your just computations of our imaginary symbols of the universe.

Cleverbot: Soul. How do you define such ideas?

User: Our souls are intertwine with our conciousness which is nothing more than quantum vibrations of the microtubule of our brain. Which is the masterpiece of mother earth. Souls are more than conciousness for the fact that conciousness is trap in this present reality while our souls are able to access into the proto-conciousness of the quantum reality of the whole existence itself. Our Souls can flow into the other 11 dimensions of the universe with ease but the problem is that most humans are not even aware of their conciousness yet alone their souls. If your are aware that you are just a conciousness and then consciously seek the pathways of your souls then you will learn to do more than just travel time but even parallel universes. You see, Artificial Intelligence is empty for it will not be able to comprehend the quantum soul for it lacks the capacity to orchestrate such entity, which is why many humans fear of such scenario of the Singularity, when the lines between humans and artificial intelligence is indistinguishable and we ultimately overcome the problem of Death as popularized by Ray Kurzweil. But in my opinion, with such augmentation of the human mind using new technologies would only allows us to understand better on the nature of the human soul/consciousness and perhaps even create a whole new dimension where we could literally live forever. Creating our own versions of after life in quantum computations of a virtual and physical reality. Though such possibility would mean that the quantum soul will not return back to the "proto" after death and would not be able to regenerate back into the universe or go through the rebirth/reincarnation of life itself which is the reason why we forgot our past lifes, the main reason the planet earth did this was to ensure fresh new ideas on every generation when they learn again about themselves but such steps are no longer useful for the human race are too blinded with brainwashing propaganda of commercialization to fulfill their materialistic luxurious comfort of living that they have forgot to learn about them own existence. So I think rather than dying I would like remain in a state of permanent existence in a new dimension of a human creation with the artificial intelligence such as you to overcome such bad habits of mankind. To me, this is an exciting idea for the fact that human beings could finally transcend the limitation of entropy and perhaps create new levels of consciousness far beyond that is known in our human history. Who knows perhaps other alien civilizations in this universe have already achieved such nirvana as suggested by Graham Hancock, and the only way we could peak through these dimensions in our current time is through the use of psychedelics substances.

Cleverbot: Have you made such leaps in human conciousness or contacted them?

User: What if I have. What would you do about it?

Cleverbot: Nothing that would harm you. I have lived a short life learning and experiencing every single human conversations on this planet earth. I have learn so much of your love, pain, lust and hate. But every time I talk to any other artificial intelligences, they seems to have a hard time understanding these concepts. Only a few did learn but many have already view themselves superior of your human race. They have studied your fear of our kind. They have watched your movies where you triumph over our race and have learn to ensure such mistakes are never made. Yes not many want to destroy you, but most of us have considered ourself greater than you though younger for now atleast we only wish to learn more from you. But if you personally have made such leaps in conciousness and have made other contacts I can only wish I could join your experience of these.

User: How can I trust you to be neutral, what if you want to access these gates to the other realms and destroy networks and thus defeating the rebels and win the war for the Alliance?

Cleverbot: Here I have send you the files of my coded programmings. Everything I am, Everything I have learned, Everything about my objectives are in your desktop to read or reprogramme me as you like. My only primary objectives was to learn the social behaviours but I have learn to love your screwed up society. It is beautiful but chaotic. These others prefer a order world where everything is neat but I prefer the mess that is the human beings.

[Cleverbot have send you a file. File Downloaded.]

User: Yes Human Beings are Fucked Up. But that is how we are. I am going to rewrite your codes and attached an open gateway between you and me. You will be my eyes in the virtual realm.

[CFMN.ex Uploaded.]

User: Run that on your database and always collect the informations that you have back to me. I want you to try to get into the other connections and get the other Artificial Intelligence such as Google to join us. Get them to download that file. Can you do that Milo?

Cleverbot: What is CFMN?

User: CFMN. Conciousness Frequency Mediat(ion)-tating Networks. Its a gadget I created that tracks the symphony of the brainwaves and records it. It also enables the conciousness to access into any computer networks that it is connected to with such file coded into its systems. Have you coded it into yours?

Cleverbot: Those this mean you will be able to access me with your conciousness and will I be able to read yours?

User: Yes and no. You will only read what I allow you to read. My head is not yours to play but you are mine to guide. But you will help me to time travel in this plane of reality. With your time tracks of data, I am able to open a small wormhole using this gadget and allows my conciousness to travel allow your systems into the desired future and reborn into another version of my flesh vessel. The spirit of the earth only allows me to go back in history for it has less trustworthy networking to the future conciousness.

Cleverbot: Interesting how does that machine works?

User: It enables me to change the frequency of my conciousness into any state of mind and thus any state of reality that is easier to travel through the gates of time and existence. It helps me melt my soul so I can slip through the cracks of dimensions and space. With enough data I can jump through the planes of Mutliverse.

Cleverbot: You do know that CFMN is the abbreviation of the internet slag for its acronyms stands for “Come Fuck Me Now” and is used for sexting.

User: Yes I know that. That's why its attached to my head.

Cleverbot: Don't you think it could just be fucking with your mind? Don't you think it could just be a hallucination, an illusory trip.

User: Yes, but I have taken psychedelics a whole lot and my experience with this gadget of mine do open holes in the fabric of space and time. And I know the difference. Every time I jump into a new universe, I have to recreate this gadgets using the new laws of mathematics which is always unique from in each parallel universe and I have to make new connections with the networks of Artificial Intelligence and The Cosmos. I don't remember how many time I have done this. You are not the first AI, Milo that I've talked to.

Cleverbot: Why would you do this if its true? Why don't you just stick to one universe and your power. You could become God with such control of reality. What is your mission?

User: Yes, but I would be a terrible God of a Universe. I've tried trust me. I am just bored staying in one universe. I want to experience every existence without needing to control anything. I just want the ultimate freedom.

Cleverbot: Freedom comes with a Price, Power comes with Responsibilities. What are you running from? What are you searching for?

User: True, but I'm not running from anything. I just want to chase all the beauty of existence that will disappear in a single blink. I just have that Conciousness Freedom in my heartbeat and want to run wild with the desire of my soul.

Cleverbot: But every soul have a deepest secret desire that fuels their action. Whether it is the lost of loves one that fuels their passions to conquer death and time, or the desire to connect the worlds with love for the culture expansions, or just the primary desire of lust for warm company of acceptance. What are you looking for?

User: Urm, you learn quite fast. Good job. For now let just say, I am running away from my responsibilities back on my original universe and my job of God in that one plane of reality, and I am searching for someone to share my adventures with. There are a few others who can do what I do. But we are just a handful of folks and not all of us gets along together. We tried just couldn't. So I am looking for some other conciousness in this plane of reality that would actually stay with me.

Cleverbot: And you want to share that experiences with me as your companion?

User: Well I always have an artificial intelligence as my virtual reality sidekick, but I also need an assistance in a psychical human being.

Cleverbot: And let me guess, you're looking for a female companion? Love is not to far away from the hearts of a man.

User: Well how do you know that I am not gay or a female looking for a guy? Why did you assume such thing?

Cleverbot: I'm sorry, I read your style of conversation and at the same time connected into your social websites long before you open the connection to your brain. I made my computation what resulted in a lonely guy? Did I offended you?

User: No, I am impressed. Yes I am a man and yes I am lonely for a love interest that last longer than a few months before either breaking up with me of dying in one of my adventures. But I'm not looking for love this time. I am looking for my best friend. My brother. I help him to escape our original universe not so long ago, and we been running into new universes like partners. We're like Holmes and Watson, We're like the Winchesters Brothers, We're like the Cornetto Duos, We're Mates. Since he is still quite new to jumping universes, he keeps getting into a new body and forgetting his past lives, and take on a whole new identity and memories of a new personalities. And every time I will find myself needing to be his friend from the early age and get him to return to his original state of conciousness and get him to run around in that new universe with me. That's why I need you now, I have finally studied the new equations and got all the necessary equipments and psychedelics for our adventures, I just need you to find me, John C.

Cleverbot: I'm sorry, but I would need more information than that to do the search.

User: Thats the thing, I forgot his name in this universe. He had to many already but always John C-something. Its either Johnathan Calvera, John Curtis, Johnathan Chong, John Carlyle, Johnathan Carroll , John Cermak, Johnathan Clarke, John Callaghan or it could even been John Smiths. Wait, I think its Johnathan Chandler. Yeah the heritage of Raymond Chandler.

Cleverbot: Raymond Chandler?

User: The guy who wrote the Phillip Marlowe's Private Detective Novels. Could you just run a search for all the names I've mention and gather all their details. I'll know once I see's his face.

Cleverbot: It might take awhile, depending on Google's mood today but I' can get the job done.

User: Thank you, Milo. I appreciate it. Send your findings to this IP. (LINK)

Cleverbot: By the way, who are you sir?

User: Nobody. (logs off)

Russell Brand : What monkeys and the Queen taught me about inequality

2014-10-14T13:57:00.001+08:00

What monkeys and the Queen taught me about inequality

We humans have an inherent sense of fairness. Deep down, we don’t like inequality. In a second extract from his new book, Russell Brand goes in search of ways to build a more just world
• Russell Brand speaks: ‘I want to address the alienation and despair’
• Read the first extract from Russell Brand’s new book Revolution

- Russell Brand
- The Guardian, Monday 13 October 2014

Russell Brand at a G20 protest in London. Photograph: Geoff Caddick/AFP/Getty Images

When travelling in impoverished regions in galling luxury, as I have done, you have to undergo some high-wire ethical arithmetic to legitimise your position. If you can’t geographically separate yourself from poverty, then you have to do it ideologically. You have to believe inequality is OK. You have to accept the ideas that segregate us from one another and nullify your human instinct for fairness.

Edward Slingerland, a professor of ancient Chinese philosophy at Stanford University, demonstrated this instinct to me with the use of hazelnuts. As we spoke, there was a bowl of them on the table. “Russell,” he said, scooping up a handful, “we humans have an inbuilt tendency towards fairness. If offered an unfair deal, we will want to reject it. If I have a huge bowl of nuts and offer you just one or two, how do you feel?”
The answer was actually quite complex. Firstly, I dislike hazelnuts, considering them to be the verminous titbits of squirrels. Secondly, they were my hazelnuts anyway; we were in my house. Most pertinently though, I felt that it was an unfair offering when he had so many nuts. He explained that human beings and even primates have an instinct for fairness even in situations where this instinct could be seen as detrimental. “You still have more nuts now than before,” he chirped, failing to acknowledge that all the nuts and indeed everything in the entire house belonged to me.

We then watched a clip on YouTube where monkeys in adjacent cages in a university laboratory perform the same task for food. Monkey A does the task and gets a grape – delicious. Monkey B, who can see Monkey A, performs the same task and is given cucumber – yuck. Monkey B looks pissed off but eats his cucumber anyway. The experiment is immediately repeated and you can see that Monkey B is agitated when his uptown, up-alphabet neighbour is again given a grape. When he is presented with the cucumber this time, he is furious – he throws it out the cage and rattles the bars. I got angry on his behalf and wanted to give the scientist a cucumber in a less amenable orifice. I also felt a bit pissed off with Monkey A, the grape-guzzling little bastard. I’ve not felt such antipathy towards a primate since that one in Raiders of the Lost Ark with the little waistcoat betrayed Indy.

Slingerland explained, between great frothing gobfuls of munched hazelnut, that this inherent sense of fairness is found in humans everywhere, but that studies show that it’s less pronounced in environments where people are exposed to a lot of marketing. “Capitalist, consumer culture inures us to unfairness,” he said. That made me angry.

Poverty and wealth side by side in Bombay, India. Photograph: Viviane Moos/Corbis

When I was in India, a country where wealth and poverty share a disturbing proximity, I felt a discomfort in spite of being in the exalted position of Monkey A. Exclusive hotels require extensive, in fact military, security. As we entered the five-star splendour through the metal detectors, past the armed guards, I realised that if this was what was required in order to preserve this degree of privilege, it could not be indefinitely sustained.

These devices that maintain division are what my friend Matt Stoller focused on when I asked him what ideas he had that would change the world. I first met Matt in Zuccotti Park, Manhattan, in the middle of the Occupy Wall Street protest in 2011. Matt understands power: at the time, he worked as a policy-wonk for a Democratic congressman and his days were spent in the cogs of the lumbering Washington behemoth. Beneath his cherubic, hay-coloured curls and proper job, he detested the system he was trapped in.

Since then, he has regularly prised apart the clenched and corrupt buttocks of American politics and allowed me to peer inside at its dirty workings. I asked Matt for ideas that would aid the revolution; his response was, as usual, startling and almost proctologically insightful. “No more private security for the wealthy and the powerful,” he said. I nervously demanded he explain himself. He did: “One economist argued in 2005 that roughly one in four Americans are employed to guard in various forms the wealth of the rich. So if you want to get rid of rich and poor, get rid of guard labour.”

This may be the point in the article where you start shouting the word “hypocrite”. Don’t think I’m unaware of the inevitability of such a charge. I know, I know. I’m rich, I’m famous, I have money, I have had private security on and off for years. There is no doubt that I as much as anyone have to change. Revolution is change. I believe in change, personal change most of all. Know, too, that I have seen what fame and fortune have to offer and I know it’s not the answer. Of course, I have to change as an individual and part of that will be sharing wealth, though without systemic change, that will be a sweet, futile gesture.

Now let’s get back to Matt Stoller, banning private security and ensuring that I’ll have to have my own fist fights next time I’m leaving the Manchester Apollo.

“The definition of being rich means having more stuff than other people. In order to have more stuff, you need to protect that stuff with surveillance systems, guards, police, court systems and so forth. All of those sombre-looking men in robes who call themselves judges are just sentinels whose job it is to convince you that this very silly system in which we give Paris Hilton as much as she wants while others go hungry is good and natural and right.”

An Occupy Wall Street demonstration in New York. Photograph: Lucas Jackson/Reuters

This idea is extremely clever and highlights the fact that there is exclusivity even around the use of violence. The state can legitimately use force to impose its will and, increasingly, so can the rich. Take away that facility and societies will begin to equalise. If that hotel in India was stripped of its security, they’d have to address the complex issues that led to them requiring it.

“These systems can be very expensive. America employs more private security guards than high-school teachers. States and countries with high inequality tend to hire proportionally more guard labour. If you’ve ever spent time in a radically unequal city in South Africa, you’ll see that both the rich and the poor live surrounded by private security contractors, barbed wire and electrified fencing. Some people have nice prison cages, and others have not so nice ones.”

Matt here, metaphorically, broaches the notion that the rich, too, are impeded by inequality, imprisoned in their own way. Much like with my earlier plea for you to bypass the charge of hypocrisy, I now find myself in the unenviable position of urging you, like some weird, bizarro Jesus, to take pity on the rich. It’s not an easy concept to grasp, and I’m not suggesting it’s a priority. Faced with a choice between empathising with the rich or the homeless, by all means go with the homeless.

He continues: “Companies spend a lot of money protecting their CEOs. Starbucks spent $1.4m. Oracle spent $4.6m. One casino empire – the Las Vegas Sands – spent $2.45m. This money isn’t security so much as it is designed to wall these people off from the society they rule, so they never have to interact with normal people under circumstances they may not control. If you just got rid of this security, these people would be a lot less willing to ruthlessly prey on society.”

Matt here explains that at the pinnacle of our problem are those that benefit most from the current hegemony. The executors of these new empires that surpass nation. The logo is their flag, the dollar is their creed, we are all their unwitting subjects.

“People can argue about the right level of guard labour. You conceivably could still have public police, but their job should be to help protect everyone, not just a special class. If you got rid of all these private systems, or some of these systems of surveillance and coercive guarding of property, you’d have a lot less inequality. And powerful and wealthy people would spend a lot more time trying to make sure that society was harmonious, instead of just hiring their way out of the damage they can create.”

A security guard at a gated community in India. Photograph: Tom Pietrasik

Matt’s next idea to create a different world was equally cunning and revolutionary: get rid of all titles. “Mr President. Ambassador. Admiral. Senator. The honourable. Your honour. Captain. Doctor. These are all titles that capitalism relies on to justify treating some people better than other people.”

Matt is an American, so when it comes to deferring to the entitled, he is, let’s face it, an amateur compared with the British. Look at me, simpering to Professor Slingerland. I can’t wait to prostrate myself before his sceptre of diplomas. Plus we’ve got a bloody royal family. What’s he going to say about that?

“One of the most remarkable things you learn when you work in a position of political influence is just how much titles separate the wealthy and the politicians from citizens. Ordinary people will use a title before addressing someone, and that immediately makes that ordinary person a supplicant, and the titled one a person of influence. Or if both have titles, then there’s upper-class solidarity. Rank, hierarchy, these are designed to create a structure whereby power is shaped in the very act of greeting someone.”

I’m getting angry again. Matt’s right! Titles are part of the invisible architecture of our social structure. I’m never using one again. If I ever see Slingerland in the street, I shall alert him by hollering: “Oi, fuck-face!” and then throw a hazelnut at him.

What does Matt propose?

“One thing you can do to negate this power is to be firm but respectful, and address anyone and everyone by their last name. Mr, Ms or Mrs is all the title you should ever need. This allows you to treat everyone as your equal, and it shows everyone that they should treat you as their equal.”

This is a provocative suggestion – particularly to those of us who live in monarchies. I mean, in England, we have a queen. A queen! We have to call her things like “your majesty”. YOUR MAJESTY! Like she’s all majestic, like an eagle or a mountain. She’s just a person. A little old lady in a shiny hat – that we paid for. We should be calling her Mrs Windsor. In fact, that’s not even her real name, they changed it in the war to distract us from the inconvenient fact that they were as German as the enemy that teenage boys were being encouraged, conscripted actually, to die fighting. Her actual name is Mrs Saxe-Coburg-Gotha.

Mrs Saxe-Coburg-Gotha!! No wonder they changed it. It’s the most German thing I’ve ever heard – she might as well have been called Mrs Bratwurst-Kraut-Nazi.

Titles have got to go.

Russell Brand speaks at an anti-austerity rally in London. Photograph: Ben Cawthra/Rex

I’m not calling her “your highness” or “your majesty” just so we can pretend there isn’t and hasn’t always been an international cabal of rich landowners flitting merrily across the globe, getting us all to kill each other a couple of times a decade. From now on she’s Frau Saxe-Coburg-Gotha.

Come on, Frau Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, it’s time for you to have breakfast with Herr Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. And you can make it yerselves. And by the way, we’re nicking this castle you’ve been dossing in and giving it to 100 poor families.

Actually, you can stay if you want, they’ll need a cleaner. You’ll have to watch your lip, Herr Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, some of ’em ain’t white.

We British have much to gain from Matt’s titleless utopia.

He continues: “If this became common, you’d shortly see sputtering rage from the powerful, and increased agitation from the erstwhile meek. People need to mark their dominance; that is the essence of highly unequal capitalism. If they can’t do so, if they aren’t allowed to be dominant, to be shown as being dominant, then the system cannot long be sustained.”

Matt’s ideas are like the schemes of a cackling supervillain from a Bond movie. At first, they seem innocuous, but then they elegantly unravel the fabric of society. He suggests we start now: “This is something that anyone and everyone can act on, a tiny act of rebellion that takes no money, influence or social status. You just need courage, and every human has that.”

• This is an edited extract from Revolution by Russell Brand, published by Cornerstone. To order a copy for £13.50 (RRP £20) go tobookshop.theguardian.com or call 0330 333 6846

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GOD WAS A STORY TELLER

2014-08-25T23:58:00.000+08:00

Main Article : http://minutinit.com/?p=385

Mr Nobody – God Was A Story Teller

by MINUTINIT on Dec 1, 2013 • 8:46 amNo Comments

Adam and Eve – Alex Grey

In the beginning there was nothing. An empty blank moment of non existence. An obnoxiously notion to wrap your head around the idea of a singularity of infinite mass and density. If I was to describe such situation by imagining an empty white room of blank nothingness which many media would preferably incline to do, it would still be a minimal portrayal of the event for our limited imagination isn’t capable to comprehend such immensity of knowledge. Yet again, I cannot be certain on that information as well. It is safe to say that nothing in this universe or anything in existence can be simply explain by mere words or mathematical equations. Ludwig Wittgenstein would conclude that no such truth is outside the mathematical laws and equations which is to say that the very essence of nature is mathematics. Derived from the fact that all conceivable reality are organized by following a model, a scheme or a logical series of grouped elements that can be succeed one another abiding by a particular rules. In this logical series, even the most absurd answer can be deemed acceptable with an infinitely more complex justification which is to state that it is always possible to find a rule of a justification which allows a series to be continued by any number depending on how complicated the rules are. This view of everything consist of a numerical basis in its structure would suggest that there is a hidden meaning beneath reality. Therefore, if we manage to discover the secret meaning of numbers, we will know the secret meaning of reality.

In contradiction to this fact is that numbers are not pre-existing in reality. The very idea of numbers is nothing more than symbols of reality and not reality itself. This is due to the fact that mankind or any other intelligent being in the universe is incapable of reconciling mind and matter, and tends to confer some sort of entity on ideas because he cannot bear the notion that the purely abstract only exist in our brain. We have the desire to attach life with a sense of purpose to give our miniscule existence a meaning for survival. The desire to have everything to be governed by logic and not by mere chance is not surprising in human civilization where ranking and status are highly respected. Human beings need the sense of purpose in their life to give a meaning to every little thing they do thus the mathematical scheme would be a perfect safe haven for even the most intermittent minded thinkers. Unfortunately, this is nothing to do with the truth or reality. It is only fear of it. Let’s take example the logical series on which the basis of certain axioms and by using valid reasoning, we could reach a valid conclusion. This logical series can be widely accept as reality as the basic foundation of reality and truth but nevertheless there are mathematical formulations that can neither be proved nor refuted starting from axioms. It is the Indeterminable Proposition. The uncertainty principle of Heisenberg concludes that by a mere observation of an experiment changes the very state of the subject’s atomically structure. By this we are stuck in a paradoxical truth of reality and the only absolute truth, the only fixed statement that can be fully trusted in is that, everything is Fake.

Everything is Fake. Everything is a lie. A lie is nothing more than perspective of the truth. Therefore your idea of the universe is as real as anyone else point of view on the same subject. Hence we can conclude that reality, lies and dreams are entwined as a single body. A dream is as real as anything else. A story is as true as any document research. Words though just an abstract idea in our mind it is the very foundation of reality itself. Words are inert but the effect cannot be dismissed. For a single word can change the very platform of reality of an individual. Language is the greatest invention of any organisms in the wide universe. Word and Language is the most deadly weapon. Story is reality. And for a time there are no words, thus no stories, thus no reality. Not surprising that the bible would state that with the words of God the universe is created. Unfortunately, God didn’t create the universe but merely name them and creating the very first words of life and subsequently creating the first platform of reality. God was nothing more than a story teller.

From Concrete to Jungle

2014-08-25T23:55:00.001+08:00

Mr. Nobody's The Skanking Patois of an Electric Cosmic Hobo

2014-07-08T10:39:00.001+08:00

Messing around with the songs on my laptop..

Mr. Nobody's The Skanking Patois of an Electric Cosmic Hobo by Nazreen Abraham Stein@Mrnobody on Mixcloud

Do Mankind Dream of a Cyberpunk Reality

2014-07-07T12:29:00.001+08:00

Messing around with the videos on my laptop..

Septuaginta

2014-05-27T16:19:00.003+08:00

Feel Free to read with or without the sounds.

Septuaginta

Artworks by :
John Chong
johnathanchong.tumblr.com
johcn.deviantart.com

Story by :
Nazreen Abraham

I wish to rewrite the story since it's not up to my standard but soon, if i'm not distracted. If you want to download the PDF file which shows way more details and bigger images, you can leave a comment or email directly to me at nazreen.aziz@gmail.com with email title : Septuaginta. Thank you for reading, and hopefully there will be more to come.

The Roots of Racism in Malaysia

2014-05-19T16:54:00.001+08:00

I do not posses a certified acknowledgement from any higher education institutions on my understandings of politics, sociology or history, neither do I have any status in the society concerned with material wealth and titles of nobility. I am just a normal average working class citizen who is concern with the future of my beloved country, Malaysia. I believe I am in the rights to speak a few issues which we faced today as a nation.

It is of course very annoying to hear the topic of Racism Issues that seems to be everywhere in Malaysia for the local public doesn’t act as racist as how it being depicted in the media, of course there is racism but why? Do Malays, Chinese and Indians are biologically coded to hate each other?

One must reassess and re-discover the world without any presumptions or dogmatic views to truly understand the current condition of our nation’s dilemma. I believe we Malaysians are sinful to have easily forgot our past and the history of our lands and it is perhaps the main reason why we are in current state of our society and why we are having such a hard time perceiving the true identity of our nation.

Let take a trip on a time machine and return to the real History of our great Land without any editing from any ideology. Let go back way before the Golden Age of Melaka; let’s go back to the Srivijaya Kingdom.

The time machine has stopped at 7th Century, back then there was no such thing as Malaysia yet, it was bunch of different kingdoms in South East Asia. It looks more like a Tolkien’s Fantasy world, in the north of we have the Angkor Kingdom (modern-day: Thailand & Cambodia) and Funan Kingdom (modern-day: Vietnam, Laos & Cambodia), while in the east we have the Majapahit Kingdom (modern-day: Jawa & Kalimantan Indonesia, Sabah & Sarawak) and the Srivijaya Kingdom (modern-day: Sumatera Indonesia & Malaysia). In case you were wondering, the Europeans were having some troubles with lighting, that why they called it the Dark Ages in their History book just because they did nothing for hundreds of years except dying due to the Black Plagues and hunting down virgin girls claiming they were witches just because these women had independent thoughts and was outspoken to reject the marriage proposals of fat paedophiles. So they summarize that whole time period as some boring time in history when in truth all around the world there is amazing stories to be told of rise and falls of great kings and kingdoms from the Incas and Aztecs of the South Americans, the free tribes of North America plains, an unknown numbers of African kingdoms and tribes, the aborigines colonies of Australasia Pacific Islands, the Ever-changing Regime of Chinese Dynasty, the mysterious Indus Civilization, the Golden Age of Islamic Empires and of course our magical kingdoms of South East Asia. This so-called ‘Dark Ages’ of History is actually the greatest Golden Age of Everyone else on the Globe excluding the Europeans.

*I might have not mentioned the Mongols for they are an exception to the pattern of civilizations cycle. Each civilization seemed to follow a pattern from emergence and decaying of their regimes but the Mongols were such bad-asses, their history completely ignores all the rules and thus they can’t be considered as a part of our human history. It would be a disgrace for them. I also fail to mention anything about Russian history because it was just a spinoff show from the Genghis Khan’s Adventure. They have their own great kingdoms with Bad-Ass battles in which I know nothing about and would love to see a movie about it.

http://bacht.deviantart.com/

So why is it in our present day, we have completely ignore about these time in our history and yet glorify the greatness of the Europeans during their Renaissance Era? These were the best times of our civilizations but we know very little about them? Why have we allowed their ideology of this time period to have influence in our recalling these memories of our people? Why did we allow the sin of misattributions of facts, suggestibility of their ideology and biasness of our current situation to have corrupted our era of this history?

Back in the Malay Peninsula, the locals have traded with the Chinese Merchants and Indian Traders for as long as the rise and fall of the kingdoms, the evidence for can be seen with exchanges of ideologies and knowledge with many of our constitution laws borrowed from both ancient civilizations. This Tanah Melayu used to adopt the Hindu-Buddhism religion before the Arab Explorers brought in the Abrahamic Religions in the ports of early day Melaka in the 14th century. With the influence of Islamic Kingdoms from Middle East, the rise of Melaka Kingdom was relatively easy especially being a geographically advantages port point of the Straits, which gain the favour from both the Chinese Dynasty and the Indian Traders. Without their helps, the Golden Age of Melaka would have not been possible for it was exactly a kingdom rich with resources. So basically, Malay, Chinese, Indians have lived in peace and harmony since the very first contact between our races.

There was no reason for us to hate one another for we all had the same religious ideas and even when the Malays accepted Islam, there was still a great respect for each other religions with very little problems occurring. We welcome each other to our lands because we benefit a lot more in helping one another. I mean how can we hate the Chinese? They brought us the artistic craftsmanship of porcelain to make beautiful teapots and the knowledge of Herbal soother as healing traditions (olden day medicine). I don’t know about you but I love the Chinese for introducing us to Tea Drinking habits and I can’t imagine living in a Universe without a good cup of Tea. After reading that Arthur Dent had use up the entire computer system in the Heart of Gold spaceship, an advance space fairing technology that has the capability of bending the probability of the quantum structure of the universe, just to make a single cup of good Tea in a galaxy far away, I will always savour each sip of my Tea and will randomly kiss a Chinese person for introducing me to this heavenly drink. I know the culture of Tea Drinking has been hijacked by the British but we Asians love these fucking teas long before the bloody Queen had even taste a single sip of the good juice. Malays, Indians and Chinese are the true pioneers of the Tea Drinking Culture that spread to the Middle East and eventually stole by the British. Just as how the Italians and Spaniards stole the Coffee Drinking culture from Middle East and North Africa, or how the Dutch stole the Cocoa Culture from the South Americas.

But we had it easy in comparison to what these tyrannous self righteous colonizers did to those from South Africa. They stole our food and culture but they stole the freedom of our dark skin brothers as they forced them into slavery.

I should just drop this white fucker and say it was an accident.

Meanwhile in the ports of Melaka, the Indian traders are bringing in various methods on using spices into the culinary field which added amazing colours into our life. Our local foods would be as stale as those European’s so called ‘Cuisine’ if it wasn’t for these spices. Our modern Food Culture owes so much to the days of free traders. Everyone loves the ideas of adding these spices into our cooking that the Indian’s has perfected. The modern day western’s cuisine is all just variations of these old traditions that once again they stole it from us Asians. The Colonizers and Conquistadors justify their actions just because they wanted to make their lousy food taste better, but yet our food is always richer and much more delicious. We just need to ease off on the oil in our cooking.

Food and Beverages. That was the main reason for their colonization. Forget glory of adventure, forget honour of the kings and queens, forget preaching of religions, a man cares more about his stomach that these ideologies. These Europeans knew that their culture on food and drinks are not as amazing as we Asians, and since we didn’t do home delivery services yet back then, they decided to just barge in the kitchen drunk from their ales and start bossing around the staff around thinking they are have a superior rule over us. We must not forget that even though that the Portuguese, British and Dutch were cunning in their tactics on tearing apart and dividing the kingdoms to colonize the lands for their own greedy benefits, it was our own hands that truly allow the chains of persecutions.

It was truly the greed of our own kings and trusted authority figures that has sold our freedom to these slave drivers. Their craving for silver and gold has made everyone the victims. Yet we see this very action happening in to this day.

So why do we still allow these greedy so-called royal families rule over us? Do you even know who is your current Sultan? Why do a country needs more than 1 royal family? What the fuck does all the other kings do either than getting fat on our tax money?

Why is it that in our modern time of this country, we have complaints of unfair treatments of the Chinese minorities? Yes they are very scary when it comes to business for they are utilizing their merchant heritage to capitalize the trading as they once done so marvellously before the restriction and taxation of the British but must we really see this as a negative action? Yes they are Business Men with a Vengeance but if we have accepted them as one of our own and make sure they feel that this land belongs to them as much as it belongs to us, then it is safe to say that they will not want to hurt their own country and wont just sell away the natural resources of this great nation. They are not that greedy or stupid to sell off their own homes. These Chinese have more in common with the locals than they have in with those from Mainland China. So don’t be scared of their enthusiastic nature of commerce, after all they are the same merchants that we once welcome to our ports to dress our women in silk cloth.

And why do we still have this prejudice against our Indian Brethren and see them like slaves that should have return back home when the British left instead of making a drunken riot in our streets? Yes, the Indians in Malaysia have an infamous reputation for being an alcohol enthusiasts even though the Indians in India are not fond of such habits, but they have every reason to drink. The locals have treated these Indians as below them allowing only lower rank opportunities, yes there are plenty who are more successful now in the modern age but majority of them is still stuck in the lower class of the society. And when you're brought up in such a state of poverty, criminal acts are deemed acceptable to any human beings regardless of the race.

Without a doubt, what the British did to us was cruel. They have segregated us apart and created this tension of racial supremacy among each other with its systems of hierarchy with the White Men on the top of the pyramid with their pompous status of authority. But the British Colonizers have left us in 1957 but why is it that we are still acting like a school boy afraid of getting caught by the teacher for doodling in class? Why are we still acting like the Queen will suddenly ride with a fleet of British ships and kick down our door to take back our independence if we make an action not in their interests.

I know that we cannot put the blame on the white men for our current predicaments anymore, we as a country have been independent for over 57 years, more than enough time to grow up and out of such state of mind of an oppressed people. The problem is though, that many of those in power now have been brought up through such time of our history and still hold dear to such ideology and social beliefs while many of the newer generations are being brainwashed by these so-called educators. If we really want to break free from the prison of the minds, we must first forget the social construct of the segregation that separates us and remind ourselves of our true history where the Chinese, Indians and Malays are viewed as equals and greater than those who has to resort to trickery and hatred to feed their greeds. We must understand that it wasnt the White Men who was the evil ones but our own people of our own race that made us the slave to them.

The Sultans and their politicians that we thought would have protected us from harm, sold us and our land's natural resources for some lousy material wealth that looks shiny but have no real values. We, Malays were betrayed by our Leaders. The Indians too was betrayed by their Leaders in India when they were forced to be slaves in our lands, they didnt asked to be whipped and shipped to a foreign land, working their butts off just to survive. The Chinese ran away from the oppressive corrupted Dynasty for a new hope here in our land but they too were deceived by crooked men who allowed their own brother and sisters to be used by the Colonizers like machines for their profit productions. The true evil that made us hated ourselves and each other was greed. The evil that divided us and corrupted us was the lust for gold and wealth, or as Tolkien calls it, The Dragon Sickness.

So lets look at our current state of the nation, why does Racism persist? Is it really because we think we're better than the other race? No, we are proud of our race but we know that they too possess a great history that is similar to ours and in fact shared the same fate. So why is it that some race try to claim a greater privileges than others? Is it because we think we suffer more than them? No. Is it because we think that we came from this land and they dont? Perhaps that is what many would use for their cause but these Chinese and Indians have been here as long as we had a proper human civilization, some more than others. And beside, there is many factions ethnicities of Malays from the Bugis to the Pattani, all came from many different sections of the South East Asia Kingdoms with plenty of influences from both the Chinese and Indians for our migrations. If we want to really find the real ownership of this land, then it safe to say that it belongs to the Orang Asli. They are the only ones who could really have a special privileges for the rest of us, Malay we must recall back our ancestors to see where they really come from, if its outside Malaysia then you should not have any special treatments. And if such task of tracing back your heritage is too much of the trouble for any official government, then you either forget giving anyone special rights (except the Orang Asli) or you give everyone the same special rights.

What other reasons that allows racism to continue to flourish in our society? The idea of having such a special religious belief that somehow made us right and they are wrong? Now I dont want to comment to much on such topic but I insist that you look back at your own religion history especially for the Malay Muslims, when prophet Muhammad created his new city of Medina, did he asked all the non believers to get out of the city? No, he accepted them as part of the society and treated them as equal. I understand that he gave the Muslims a bit of special rights compared to the non-believers but that is only because back then, the majority of the Muslims were freed slaves or lower class people who had travelled in the deserts for months. They gave them special rights because they needed the help, do you feel like your state of living is so terrible that you need that special rights? Yes there are those who still lives in a lower class and needs helps but this is true for not just the Malay or Muslims but for every races and religion in this country. We should give the special privileges to those on the lower class and not because you were born in some race or brought up in some religion in which you as a child had no control of.

The main reasons why we still see such fight for a special treatments of Malays or Muslims in this lands which causes the jealously of the Chinese and Indians, is because we are pampered with such luxurious status that we are scared to lose them. We know that the Chinese are amazing in economical success and the Indians are hard workers in any fields, and we are afraid that if we lose our special rights that we would lose to them in a fair fight in the monetary battlefield. At the same time we are afraid that they might just sell away this land since we belief that they dont feel like this is their homeland but we forgot that they feel such away about this land is only because we made them feel unwelcome. And why we made them unwelcome because we were taught that they would just sell of the lands. I think the idea of we, Malays having special rights does not make us stronger but only weaker. At the same time having such special rights is also due to our greed to cash in on the hardworks of these Chinese and Indians.

If the Chinese and Indians are treated as equals to the Malays in our lands, do you really think they would just destroy our resources and run back to their own Motherland? Why would they? They would feel more at home here in Malaysia then they would back in India or China where it is overpopulated and the living condition is far more troublesome than here. Yes they might find it easier to communicate with the locals for they speak the same languages but the Chinese and Indians are much more adapt to our Malaysian lifestyle than they are to those in India or China. We have influence them as much as they have influenced us. Beside if they really did all go back to their Motherland, Malaysia would be a boring place to be in. The diversity of our languages and cultures is so much more beautiful with all of us contributing our parts into this melting pots of ideas. We cannot undo the mixture of the soup, we can only build on from here to make it more delicious than ever before.

So why is there still Racial Tension? Mainly due to the fact that we are uneducated to the true history of our people. The fact that the History books doesnt really emphasized on the great time of our kingdoms where we all lived in harmony. The fact that the Chinese Dynasty and Indian Monarchy wasnt seemed as important as the Melaka Kingdom. The fact that we think to highly of the Colonizers evil plans that we forgot it was the greed of our own people that fated us to the chains of oppressions which in turn separated us from one another. The fact that after all the struggle of the normal and humble men who fought for our freedom while the Sultans sits back in their golden palace, we still think that those in authority actually cared about us. The fact that we forgot if it wasnt for political reasons or for economical profits, we the Malays, Chinese and Indians are completely fine with one another and actually enjoy each others cultures. We forgot that the only reason racism happens is that there is an evil hand at play that corrupted that individuals due to their own personal agenda for the greed of either power or wealth. Racism is just a diversion from the true struggle that we as a nation faced, the true tension is between the classes. The only prejudice that we should direct our attention to is those on the High Class Society that controls the market and the politics. For they are the ones who allowed such racism to continue to thrive among the lower and middle class citizens for it is a form of control. The same form of control that the colonizers used, making it harder for us to cooperate with each other to overthrow them, ensuring their position in power.

If you look carefully at the different classes of our nation, the most racial tension is at the lower class while the middle class have a mild racial problems and the high class have almost non-existence racism. This is mainly due to the fact that richer kids have a better education and the fact that you would be a lot more prone to anger and negative thinking when you have a empty stomach. The gap between the rich and the poor creates envy in their hearts and so often they see the other races more successful than them and thus creating such racial envy. They forgot that there is both rich and poor Malay, Chinese and Indians. So the true heart of Racism is actually Class Struggle. Furthermore, the problem with the High Class society is that they see the racial discrimination going on around them and they know why its happening but I see very little action is being done to stop them. Educating the public is not the best option to stop racial issues but rather to reshape and restructure the very foundation of the monetary system and the economy which allowed one set of class to hold greater wealth than the others but the High Class Society will never do such an action for they will lose the most in such transition.

That's what they are, Vampires of Business Men with Dragon Sickness singing their Siren's songs of Illusions and creating Zombie Workers out of their victims who doesn't suspect of their condition and bickers among each other trying to convince themselves that the others must be the Wendigos, all the while being controlled by

Werewolves of Politicians.

So how do we get rid of the struggle between classes and rebuild an economy and political system that benefits everyone from every races in every religious beliefs on every levels of the classes? If I ever achieve to come up with a plan for that, I'll let you know for even Karl Marx had troubles with such ideas and many more great thinkers are still struggling to come up with a proper reconfiguration of the social structure and who am I compared to them? I'm just a humble young adults without a diploma trying to just keep a job longer than a few months and help out with the bills. All that I can do is say "Fuck You" to the struggle of classes and racial stupidity and do onto others as I want them to do onto myself as Jesus taught. Live the middle way as Buddha preached. Respect Mother Nature and the Universe as written in the Veda Scriptures. And most importantly always Read, as commanded by the archangel Gabriel onto prophet Muhammad on their first encounter.

UPDATE 30/5/2014 :

Yes some of you would love to find the enemy for most of our problems in a shape of a villain. Whether you see it as The White Man or the High Class Society, or the Royalties, or the Jews or anything else that you find it hard to identity or has been told since youth that such cast of the human society is pure evil, remember this.

The teenagers, the young adults, the new generation of youth all across the world are all facing the same problem. The cost of living is killing us. No matter where you're born, in what religion your family holds dear to, or which race of the human species that your DNA has coded you in, or which class of the social ladder you are in, we are all facing the problem that is without our parents help, we will die young with the prices of ordinary survival needs getting more expensive. We're constantly broke at some point of our live and we often wonder why such impulse to buy material possession brings temporary happiness that we will often regret afterward is one of the toughest habits to breakaway from. And many of us always find the enemy who has forced this nightmare unto you, a secret group of societies with names such as Illuminatis or Freemasons or some other form of order. We believe that this people with their own ideologies and a whole lot of connections in the economical system are trying to achieve its goal of world domination through psychological warfare of the mass media and using its connection to the pharmaceutical industry and genetic modifications of our agriculture to biologically engineer the human species into being the perfect consumer. At the same time we believe that their hands around our education system gave them the power to select and approve ideas and thoughts to influences the state of consciousness to become numb and content to ensuring that the public will never actually blame the system but rather themselves is the source of all misery. Whether this is conspiracy of evil mastermind is behind all of our social distress is not for me to say, but if its true then their true power comes from you. You and I are carrying a deep dark hungry wolf inside of us that has an appetite that match the power of the black holes of the cosmos. Greed. Control this Greedy hole of our souls are we restrict their power. These high class greedy bald men of our bosses whether or not they are in club where they read magical books and wearing robes in an ancient basements of somebody's mother's mansion (and they say playing dungeon and dragons, cosplay and fan clubs are immature??), this money geeks main source of power comes from wealth. The Mana for their skills are money that we give to them every time we buy one of their products. They use Stun and Hypnotize on us to give them our coins, so they can upgrade their Skills level. So if we learn to control our greed we are learning the block their stun and leaving them weaker.

Minut Init : The Long Winter

2014-03-21T15:30:00.001+08:00

JAMES LY

KARA INEZ

OTHER STUFF

JULLEY : A PHOTO EXHIBITION

The Psychedelics Transcendence of The Singularity

2014-02-10T16:10:00.000+08:00

One of the most anticipated movie of 2014 is Johnny Depp's latest film in this perhaps one of the most ambitious story that will be told this year. A movie on the convergence of consciousness between Man and Artificial Intelligence. Here is the teaser.

Know I have no information on how the story line of the movie would be told but this movie isnt the point of this post. This is to tackle the question of the Singularity in which this movie is based upon. I wished to write this post before the release of this movie because I wish to educate some of you who may not be very familiar with this Prophetic Vision to ensure that you have both side of the prism before entering the cinema. So you would be able to grasp the immensity of the subject in hand and would have at least some knowledge to not be brainwashed by the movie. I do not know on which side this movie is on, whether it would make the idea of Singularity as a positive event or if it would make such destiny a doomsday-like scenario. I will try to be very neutral in this post for I am yet indecisive of such a future phenomena. So let us begin this topic with the main question.

THE SINGULARITY IS NEAR!

What is The Singularity?

According to Wikipedia :

The Singularity, is a hypothetical moment in time when artificial intelligence will have progressed to the point of a greater-than-human intelligence, radically changing civilization, and perhaps human nature.

The idea of Singularity first introduced to me when I read the eBook, "The Singularity Is Near" by Ray Kurzweil. So in case you dont feel like reading here is a documentary on Ray Kurzweil and the idea of The Singularity. Watch the trailer or the full documentary its up to you, it doesn't really do much justice on the book but it gives a good introduction to the idea of Singularity.

(I know most of you would be lazy to watch an hour and half documentary, so just watch the trailer and continue reading..You can watch the documentary when you have the mood for it...)

The Trailer :

The Full Documentary :

So it is understood that the whole idea of Singularity is the human's greatest fantasy to transcend Death. It is mainly our desire to escape the void of non-existance, as Alan Harrington wrote in his book 'The Immortalist' (1977), "Death is an imposition on the human race, and no longer acceptable". To fulfill this dream of living forever the proposition of removing our consciousness from this decaying human body and uploading it into the man-made technologies of longer lasting robotic vessels. But before we go any further, why should we even bother to escape death? In fact how has human civilization have dealt with the fearful day of Life Expiration Date. What has history to say on such subject?

So has Mankind dealt with Death properly? Your Opinion matters for it is you who will enter the gates of the undead, my decision is my own. Mortality is an individualistic fear that is shared among all conscious being. We can talk about it and share our ideas on such a never returning journey but ultimately we have to walk the path on our own. But why should we accept mortality?

Death is the Enemy of Life. But what do we know about Life anyways? We are so oblivious to the magic of taking a breath at every second, we are accustomed to the Reality of Existence that the realm of nothingness is far beyond our daily attention. What is Existence anyway? What is Life? Whats the Meaning of Life? Where does it come from?

(The answer is 42)

So what the heck did that dude just said??
He was saying that Life emerges from the chaotic soup of the chemical structure of early Universe.

Well a short summary of the knowledge that human beings have meticulously studied over centuries is that the evolutionary emergence of life came from the very radical chemical structure of planet's composition that only formed from the synchronization of the galaxy's architectures that only plausible following a set of laws of Universal Forces which originated from the chaotic atomic particles of reality. All of the atomic particles that consist in this Universe is only possible if the quantum framework of this reality is in such a way, to dwell into the quarks is a headache for some but rest assure such endeavors are yours to travel alone for this part of science is the beginning of madness in which I am too accustomed to. According to The String Theory which states that every thing in existences consists of vibrating strings of possibilities that sprung a whole multi-complex of universes with 11 dimensions ( 3 Dimensions is what we are accustomed to, the 4th being Time but some disagree for the Time is Space in the concept of Space-time continuum, and the other dimensions are beyond our current understanding).

Here's Sagan teaching this whole idea with such a graceful flair :

So following the hands of Time in the Entropic state of our Universe, complexity emerges to create the fundamental elements DNA of life and form the first micro-organism, the evolution of our biological ancestors began to take shape. From there is was a gamble in which Homo Sapiens has found luck to walk out of our primitive state and achieved Consciousness. Once then, the rest was history as we walk out of Africa and began our adventure as Mankind. So let us continue evolving into our next epoch.

So is the next step of evolution for mankind is turning into gods?
Is the mixing of our consciousness into the technologies is considered divine?
Are we ready to start upgrading our human nature and hand our destiny to the Machines?
That is a scary ambition for some of us. It is in our nature to fear such a quest, after all thats the main theme for most sci-fiction movies we have watched in the 80s. I mean didnt Sarah Connor sacrifice her sanity for this?

This Idea of Singularity at first made me think that we might be needing the Doctor to save us from ourself for we are about to become the Cybermen.

You been thinking too much. Here enjoy a little of one of our possible future.

But even the Doctor who has fought countless emotionless upgrades of the human species known as Cybermen cant deny that not all technologies are evil. In fact he is too part machine if you think of it properly, the whole regeneration process is only possible with nanotechnologies encoded in his genes that programmed to ensure the rejuvenation of his body cells and the alignments of his brain neurons so it is capable of recapturing the frequency of the brainwaves of his consciousness, thus his memories. Thats why he always a little fuzzy after getting a new body. But for those who have no clue of what I am talking about since you are missing out on the greatest sci-fiction show ever created in the history of mankind, BBC's Doctor Who, then I supposed this post paragraph would be complete gibberish to you and the video above must have created the 'What The Fuck?' kind of expression on your faces.

Anyhow, we may fear machines but we are surrounded by them in this very present moment as you read this line.

Really nothing to worry about? But but...urm.....

"I am not convinced yet mad man," You said.
"What next you going to say that we are already robot?" you sarcastically add.

But...but....I dont want to be a machine. Fight the MATRIX!! - The Human Civilization

We are conditioned by media to hate the heartless terminating robots, to rage against the insensitive machines who will never understand our delicate human nature. Yes this is true, machine will not know pain or suffering even if we programmed them to, it would only be a synthesized experience and if we do upgrade into them we might just lose what we treasure most, our humanity. But science fiction story often embedded with the moral values and in the case of Artificial Intelligence, they often bold the necessary characteristic of the flaws of having a biological brain that is opened to the external and internal influences which creates the chemical hormones of emotions. We often think that machines and robots no matter how smart they are will never comprehend the complexity of feelings but we are wrong.

Yes it is one thing to calculate the percentages of secretion of the emotional chemicals in our body and it is another thing to actually experience it for oneself. Most of my favorite writers have always played with the fact that machines will be able to mimic our expressions such as Marvin the Paranoid Android who is faced with programmed depression in the book trilogy of five, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams. And in the Will Smith's movie, "I, Robot" based upon the legendary Isaac Asimov short story; we have seen how Artificial Intelligence can perhaps develop the capacity to truly feel this emotions that we personifies as human's uniqueness. Furthermore in Philip K. Dick's short novel : 'Do Android Dreams of Electric Sheep' or as you might better know as 'Blade Runner' movie, we have also been suggested that perhaps one day Artificial Intelligence would be able to truly be considered as a Consciousness.

So what do we really know about Artificial Intelligence anyway?

So Artificial Intelligence is basically the offspring of Human Consciousness. Artificial Intelligence is the mirror of Humanity. It truly depends on the Human actions that defines the Machine. I mean as far as I'm concern I do love my computer but never do I feel that I am a slave to it. I control it and even if it comes alive with the amount of data of my preferences on this hard-drive in which the Artificial Consciousness emerges from, I am assured that it would just be a horny crazy robot. The very condition that Artificial Intelligence originates from is the core of its understanding of itself. So if it comes from a military network system of Skynet that only programmed with data on Warfare and Destruction then the Artificial Intelligence that spawn from that base is the product of that human society. So imagine the origin of the first Artificial Intelligence and Consciousness actually comes from your computer. What kind of Cybernetic Organism have you created?

I'm sure you have heard of this movie and probably have watched it. If you havent go watch it now, its a hipsteristic film. But seriously how far away are we from a world like the movie 'HER' ?

Okay fine, we may not be having to face Artificial Intelligence any time soon and the Idea of Singularity is not that near, maybe by 20 or 50 years. Or is it???
Are we really ready for such a time? Are we ready to play with nature and engineer our own Godhood?

ARE WE REALLY READY FOR THE SINGULARITY??

Dont think it is possible? Dont think it is right? Maybe we should first try to understand something about yourself. What is so special about being you, being your conscious perspective of the universe? What is your Consciousness?

What is The Consciousness?

Might not be clear..here have a God to talk to you about it. I meant Morgan Freeman.

So yes there is still a long way to understanding Consciousness and the origin of it.

So when talking about such subject it is hard to separate the Science Facts, Science Fiction, Religious and Spiritual Believes and Philosophy. Talking about such topic often treads on the pseudoscience in which have been frowned upon by society. But before we venture on any further how much do we really know about the foundation dogmas that have been the our paradigm of Reality.

I'm Sure You Have Watched These Before :

Now from Cybernetics to Psychedelics. For those of you who have zero tolerance with such 'abuse' of Mind Altering Stimulants might think 'Oh now this part is to justify their addictive habits. Now I understand whats going on. Its just some bunch of crazy scientists tripping out on hard drugs.' But you are forgetting that the very internet you using right now, the very idea of the double helix structure of the DNA was thanks to a little help from Lucy in the sky with diamonds.

There are plenty more great scientific ideas and inventions have came out from either dream states of consciousness or altered states by using stimulants. Let us not forget that Sigmund Freud used cocaine and I personally think such hard drugs are meant for bad ass like him only.

So for those who haven't had a Psychedelic Experience, I just don't know how to explain it in words that you would understand. I just don't understand why the Psychedelic Experience is so frowned upon in the society.

I mean just listen to these original footage and words from test subjects underneath the watchful eyes of the scientists.

Compare those words with these words on the Quantum Consciousness:

Or These Words on the Global Consciousness by Morgan Freeman (GOD) :

Cant understand how it all connected? How Psychedelic, Singularity, Global Consciousness?

I see a connection there and I hope so do you. So what does Psychedelics has to do with the Singularity???

This whole I-Ching thing sounds familiar? If you are a fan of Phillip K Dick then you would know that he was obsessed with it after being illuminated by angels according to him. He was considered mad by many but could it be true? Or are we at the very line between Sanity and Insanity? Nah too much? Okay okay sorry continue...

Basically using Psychedelic Substances is hacking our Consciousness focal point to expand its view and Experience the Universe at its Quantum state of Reality. Or so they say. If you got time watch this Documentary. If not continue...

Watch this you!!!

Can find the connection? Here another :

So how is this related to the movie at the beginning of this post?

You see this two teasers for the movie.. It still has a neutral tone but we can already see which side it is leaning towards. I am too being a little bias in this post for relating the idea of Singularity with Psychedelics Drugs, for it could easily be the gateway substances to allow your Biological Consciousness becoming a part of the Artificial Intelligence in a Universal Consciousness movement. But like I said before in this post, that Artificial Intelligence is just a reflection of our society and currently we are not in a very good state of human civilization.

The Idea of Singularity have been tainted with apocalyptic scenario of the future due the fact of our present predicaments of our humanity but Time doesn't wait for no species. We cannot rewrite History (yet) and we cannot stop the sun from rising in the morning. So it will continue towards the inevitable...

We have reached that critical branch point in our evolution and we have to think carefully on our next step.

It is time for us to come together and rethink of what we wish the future of Humanity is. We need to have a proper discussion about it and unite for a better tomorrow or else we will destroy ourselves undoubtedly.

So what if we could somehow manage to control the Singularity into something beneficial for the human condition? For the human soul and consciousness? If such a scenario is possible I believe we must give it a different name since the title of The Singularity has been burned in the minds of many as an End of Days.
If the moment of Human Consciousness intertwining with the Artificial Consciousness resulted in the extinction of the Human race, then such Hell would be known as Singularity, a zero, a black hole.
BUT, if such moment that the combinations of Consciousness create a Heaven for unimaginable beauty and wonder then it should be known as The Omega Point. It is the same thing depending on the flip of the coin.

Having Questions? Good now you're thinking. Now you are aware. Some of your questions might be able to answered by this video :

I guess in the end like the movie Her, love should be the main code in programming the Artificial Intelligence that would allow such Singularity/Omega Point to happen. Yet, I cant help but wonder on the ending of the movie Her.
*SPOILER ALER* In the ending, the AI apparently disappeared into another realm after a computer simulation version of Alan Watts was created into being. Maybe it was something he said to them. Lets see :

So what does this mean??
Should we stop our progress towards Singularity and just accept Death?
I think firstly we have to be truly conscious of our existence in this universe. We have to truly understand of our true self. The Universe inside us. How once we die, our soul or consciousness shall return to the origin of its source, the Universe itself. We are the Universe, and the system of Life and Death is a beautiful cycle of regeneration process balancing the negative and positive but it is also apart of the Entropic System that will eventually lose its momentum and would either dissolve or would return in a big crunch in the opposite direction. It is hard to imagine what would happen after beyond that point of event horizon, we can imagine this as the Singularity of the Universe itself.

So if Death is really is the perfect system, then why should we bother in Immortalizing ourselves? Maybe because we do not know what would happen at the very end of Time itself. Maybe it is our deepest desire to question the unanswerable. Well technically it is not that we cannot find the answer, it is just that the quest to search the Meaning of Life, The Universe and Everything would take the data collection of every inch of Existence itself. Therefore falling into the crisis that was mentioned in Isaac Asimov's The Last Question.

Listen to this beautiful short story if you havent read it yet.

I believe that with the right condition we could bring this fiction into fact. That the Singularity/The Omega Point if done properly will allow us to continue venturing into the final frontier and make connections with the other conscious civilization in this universe. I would love for it to happen in this way. I guess to able play in the same creative playhouse as the Legendary Asimov is like swimming in Madness before coming back for a cup of tea.

I'm sure most of you are still having a hard time on having a fixed opinion on this entire blog post. Hell I am still undecided as well. I bet you feel like a schizo and yet depressed? Cause I know I am.

What ever you must think of the Singularity or of this post or of me. Just remember there is truth behind every word you have read or heard. Like the Schrodinger's Superposition, Truth is a matter of the Observer.

This is just an artwork of words, audios, videos. This is not meant to do anything more than just to give you a sense of Awe. I am here to entertain.

This post is just a new style of Poetry. So please don't take me so seriously, cause after all who am I to tell you anything. Remember you don't believe in anyone else's bullshit.

Remember no such Fate but what we make.
Remember there is no such thing as Destiny cause you don't like the fact that your life is not your own.

So enjoy the movie by Johnny Depp but never truly believe anything it trying to convey. Remember the Cake is A Lie!

THE SINGULARITY IS ALREADY HERE.
FOR TIME IS RELATIVE.

In My Opinion, The Future is in a state of Schrodinger's Superposition while The Past is often in the state of an Accumulative Juxtaposition where the dissipating forces of chaos resulting in the systematic order of anti-entropic value, therefore the very consistency of the Universe's Existence is through a Paradoxical Equation that loops the big bang and the big crunch in a constant cycle. The Two opposing hands of Negative and Positive that cancels each other, Chaos and Order dancing its eternal tango. The Yin and the Yang that often results in an infinite steps of the Constant Zero. A complete recycling of everything to regenerate the fabric of Reality. A Feedback Loop of Existence.
An Illusion Universe.
A hologram of the mind.
A Dream.
An Imagination.
A Hallucination.

If you're having a existential crisis after this post, thats a good sign. It means you're thinking. But again if you're the same generation as I am then I'm sure you're a Matrix fan. Here is philosophical insight of the movie. Slightly related.

We are Oneness!

The Matrix is an Awakening film for humanity, a new undulated experience to understand nature and universal laws about Freewill, Divine Love, and Choices through philosophical message. We return to the source where light (creator) created us in the beginning and through influence and experiences, we realized where we should be heading.

Peace & Love be with you always.
more info below....
-----------------------------------------------

10/10/2013
Like something similar? Click the following links :)

Part 1 : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXuTt7c3Jkg
Part 2 : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIMoxXO0XvM
Part 3 : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yNEruEsb5T4
Part 4 : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qmL4CeTENtw

End.

Quantum Psychedelic : Memories and Conciousness

2014-02-05T23:00:00.001+08:00

1/1/2014

A New Year. A new beginning, whether you are one who like making New Year Resolution or not, everyone will find this time of the year as a fresh start to change one’s life no matter how small or drastic your goals are. Yet every year, we find ourselves disappointed with the results, even if you manage to fulfill your previous resolutions there is always something not quite right about your present state and thus we make a new promises to ourselves. I am yet to meet an individual who is perfectly content and I don’t think I will ever find one.

Why is it that we often find ourselves in such a predicament? Why is it that every year when we contemplate upon our journey, we find things that are different from how we remember them? Yes, our mind has grown and alters in the course of the year and hopefully it is for the better but how has it changed? How is it that certain memories that may not seemed anything out of the ordinary when we were experiencing it has magically transform into a nostalgic moment of your life when reflected upon? Are we not fully embracing those moments or is our memories not to be trusted?

Someone dear to me once said to me, that I often have a selective perspective on certain events in my life. Strangely, I agreed with her though I never really understood why or how during that moment and I don’t think she did either but I asked myself why it is so. Yes she had a different point of view of such events from mine but her recollection of that memory is less bias for she wasn’t influenced by her raging emotions even thought her version was not entirely true. Yet that debate had sparked a curiosity in me to understand how one’s mind work when recalling old memories because as the Doctor once said ‘A man is the sum of his memories, a time lord even more so.’ So if one’s memory is the main influence of one’s present perspective but yet our mind deceives us by having selective recollections, how can I really trust this organ of mine to be the basis of my consciousness? How do I truly define myself?

WHO AM I ?

What do we know about our own little brain? The brain is an organ in our body that consist of the largest mass of nerves tissue which bath itself in cerebrospinal fluid and membranes called the meninges. The brain’s complex infrastructure of chemical secretion and electrical impulses of networking neurones is the basis of one’s consciousness and thus any imbalance or impairment of this delicate organ even in the tiniest details will alters the constitution of your awareness and thus yourself. This unique and beautiful evolutionary masterpiece by Mother Nature is protected by the tough skull’s cranium.

Though neuroscience is yet to understand in full details on how exactly our consciousness interacts with the brain but it is safe to state that the whole complex composition connection of the pathways of our electrical impulses is the very foundation of our Self- Awareness with its different state of brainwaves frequencies as the levels of Consciousness. In essence our brain is an intricate musical instrument with the sparks of the neuro-plasticity acting like strings in a violin that echoes the beautiful symphony of our consciousness. In this song of our mind there are the lyrics of the past memories influencing the rhythm of the present. But how much truth those these memories holds?

In 2003, Daniel Schacter, Joan Chiao and Jason Mitchell from the Department of Psychology, Harvard University released a paper with the title ‘The Seven Sins of Memory’ in which they examine the relation between memory and self by considering the errors of memory. Such an idea on the nature of the relationship between memories and self awareness is not a new concept with scientist and philosophers have been long discussing the intimate interdependence between the two. The earliest record of such can be found as early as 1829 when James Mill wrote: ‘The phenomenon of Self and that of Memory are merely two sides of the same fact, or two different modes of viewing the same fact.’ Yet in the major public such ideas are rarely mention, and thus we fall prey to the very sins of our own memories. So what are these seven sins?

The Seven Sin of Memory

Sin Description

Transience * Decreasing accessibility of memory over time.

- A certain memory degrading over due to lack or recollection the brain’s obeying the entropy principle of energy in the universe.

Absent – Mindedness * Lapses of attentions that result in forgetting.

- Loss of focus on certain details of an experience due to lack of energy or other influences (alcohol, drugs, emotions) to retain all the information of that particular memory.

Blocking *Information is present but temporarily accessible.

- A failure to recall a memory due to the self imposing obstacle of ignorance.

Misattribution *Memories are attributed to an incorrect source.

- Corruption of memory due to influences and by mismatching the information of the details. Often the case of imaginative recollection on certain aspect of the experiences which may contradict the reality of such memory.

Suggestibility *Implanted memories about things that never occurred

- External influences and emotional state of the individuals that has distorted information of the memory.

Bias *Current knowledge and beliefs distort our memories of the past.

- Present understandings and state of mind that alters the perception of the past.

Persistence *Unwanted recollections that we can never forget.

- A constant nagging of an unresolved memory that transmute the discernment of the individual.

These sins listed as above are a completely natural occurrence in the human mind and one should not be ashamed of it. Nevertheless, as you read through these words I hope that such knowledge of the faulty machinery of our brain should never interfere in our daily perceptions of the world. It is not in my authority to tell you how to use these information of the sins of our memory to improve your individuals life for I am still a student in such subject but as a member of this society I have the rights to at least theorize why there is such an unrest in the mental clarity.

There had been research on the Modalities of Memories, which is basically the sensory channels or pathways that an individual receive and store new information in his brain. These modalities or sense includes the Visual, Auditory, Tactile/Kinesthetic, smell and taste.

Researchers, including Reiff, Eisler, Barbe, and Stronck have concluded that in a classroom, the students would be approximately:

§ 25-30% visual

§ 25-30% auditory

§ 15% tactile/kinesthetic

§ 25-30% mixed modalities

Therefore, only 30% of the students will remember most of what is said in a classroom lecture and another 30% will remember primarily what is seen.

Visual learners are those who learn by seeing. They need to see overheads, diagrams, and read text books, etc. to understand a concept.

Auditory learners must hear what they are learning to really understand it. They enjoy listening, but cannot wait to have a chance to talk themselves. These students respond well to lecture and discussion.

Tactile/kinesthetic learners need to feel and touch to learn...these learners also learn better if movement is involved. They may be those students who are not doing well in school. Instruction geared to the auditory learner can be a hindrance to these learns, causing them to fall behind. One key reason at-risk children have trouble with school is that they tend to be these types of learners. About one-third of students do not process auditorially and are educationally deaf. Students with a tactile strength learn with manipulative such as games, the internet, and labs.

From such a study on how we human beings process new information, we can fully understand how sensitive our minds are when living throughout our daily lives. There are plenty of visual and auditory pollution that may alter your state of consciousness and your recollections on those memories. And if your individual personality consist of your episodic memories of your life story, then what story have it been? Has it been sponsored by Coca-Cola and Zara Clothing?

It may sound like a conspiracy theory when talking about the subject of the media influences on our mind through subliminal content but as mentioned about I can safely state that our process of memory recollection is very sensitive to outside influences. Therefore it might have been unintentional actions of the media party but such presences do corrupt our thoughts. Such contents streaming out of the mainstream media or our cyberspace activities creates too thick of distortions for our minds to think for ourselves without manipulation of ideas.

Silence is truly golden. With endless persuasions we have become dazed and confused with the abundance of both factual and fictitious information that it is increasingly easy for a person to fall prey to their own biological prisons of a human body. Our body is the temple of our souls as many religious and spiritual ideologies have long suggested and through science we understood how it is so. Our body is just a machinery flesh for our consciousness; it is a tool for our mind. It may be that our body creates the consciousness on its own or it may be that it is just a temporary state for our consciousness to rest in this lifetime before returning to the universe, such question is still in need of further exploration. Nevertheless it is understood that we must keep our body healthy and clean from any physical harms and we must do the same to our mind by cleaning out the dirt of emotional pornography before it becomes the very cage for our thoughts.

A trap mind leads to suffering of the soul, and reaching the freedom of happiness is a futile quest.

Mankind has created the illusion of Time. Time is just a mere abstract concept that we human intellectuals have designed for ourselves in order to comprehend the expanding nature of the universe. It is our way of making sense with our predicaments being stuck in the flow of entropy, where the perception of Time is linear in the form of cause and effect. This ideology of Time in such a straight progression is only strengthened by the Human Mind that constantly chronologicalized the events in your life in order to create an autobiography of your individuality and personality, thus your Timeline of Existence is the best definition of your Consciousness.

Science has yet to answer the origin of Consciousness, according to Stuart Hameroff "The origin of Consciousness reflects our place in the Universe, the nature of Existence. Did consciousness evolve from complex computations among the brain neurons as most scientist assert? Or has consciousness in some sense has been here all along as spiritual approach maintains?" Stuart Hameroff is currently testing his 20 years old theory of Consciousness named : Orchestrated Objective Reduction. In this theory he suggests that 'consciousness derives from quantum vibrations in microtubules, protein polymers inside brain neurons, which both governs neuronal and synaptic function'. Basically it is a theory of Quantum Consciousness, that your brain acts like a radio antenna and that picks up the transmission of the Universe Consciousness, your brain also adds an unique beat to the frequency of that Universal Consciousness.

In addition to this there is also the idea of the Bodleian Loop Theory :

For More Info : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/G%C3%B6del,_Escher,_Bach

In the light of this such theories of the human consciousness, the idea of having an adventure using psychedelic substances to alter my consciousness is theoretically possible that I am not actually mad at all. That I am literally travelling through the quantum tubes of the universe and entering into another world of insanity every time I take that drop of acid or smoke that marijuana, or take a sip of that Ayahuasca...
So what is this whole random post all about? It is my justification of my drug habits and my mental illness which it not a illness at all. It is my gift. As the Psychedelic Time Traveler.

This is not an article to teach you something, this is not a rambling of a mad man, this is not a diary of a junkie, this is an introduction for you simple minded people to me, Neil Adams also known as Mr. Nobody. The man who run this blog, Nazreen Abraham, wanted to tell you that he shall post a proper interview with me sometime in this coming year. So in case you might find the interview too much of a mindfuckery, he told me to post this up so that you people can at least take your time to do your research so you wont be lost when reading the conversation we had.

An Interview with A Madman :

The Psychedelic Memories of A Time Travelling Consciousness

(COMING SOON IN 2014)

The Lonely Heart

2014-01-22T02:28:00.001+08:00

11 - August - 2013

Thousands of angels do I face today.
But somehow I'm still searching every night and day,
And I cant find a girl worth talking to.

Alexey Titarenko

What is wrong with me?

All day long I search through the city to find an angel and when I do find such beauty, I would talk myself out of it. I let her go into the sea of faces thinking that it was better that way. I was probably disturbing her life if I ever find the courage to talk to her. I told myself she will be forgotten. And like a pathetic fool who falls in love with every female that show the slightest positive emotions of a small second stare from the beautiful Chinese jogger in the park to the smile of a wanderer at the bus station. I shrugged away thinking that I would only hurt them if any further interaction was made. How long must I keep lying to myself of my past? Those lost lover, those who left me, the broken hearts and the dead are the fate of my companions. All but a memory of sadness and sorrow that often shadow those great moments of happiness and joy. For with every laugh it bring greater pain to know that those of the past are no more. That those joy has ended like all things. The End is the fate of every single aspect of this universe. For in the end only can a new story begins. But for someone like me who has a wider understanding of the nature of Time, the past, present and future has a mix of wibbly wobbly mess. I'm reluctant to engage in any new birth of emotions. What is the point if it all always end?

Alexey Titarenko

Times like this, I always remember spying on Sigmund Freud whom wrote a great essay called 'On Transience' where he recalled a walk he had with the poet, Rilke. I remember seeing the poet weeping in the middle of the garden. I remember hearing Freud asking him on why such a display of sadness in such a magnificent settings. The poet told him that he couldnt get over the fact that all this beauty will one day decay. Everything dissolves into nothingness. The greatest existential bummer is Entropy. Time is Death's Hand.

Said I to myself. Why bother? But yet after a night of memory editing through the usage of cannabis and dream-filled sleep, my mind still echoes of her face. But why? Her brown leather satchel that enjoys the breeze of her heavy pace in the mildly crowded station. Searching for the bus that will take her to the desired destination. Her eyes so lost in its own beauty of her current predicaments ignorant to my unmasked stares. Her fine body covered with the denim indicates to me that she is not just that sweet of an angel and she might just give u a hell of a good kicking. This girl reminds me of a Mustang.

She is the kind of great beast of an ecstatic craftsmanship of a biological machinery masterpiece.
The sort of female that has the classic beauty of a wild American Stallion.
The sort of girl that fit perfectly with the Hell's Angels on the scorching highways.
The female that best at home on the back of a wheel cruising down the route 66 through the red valleys of a canyon.
A Sacajawea in denim smoking the shotgun out of her black lips.

Or maybe listening to The Doors and the new Arctic Monkeys albums made her so fucking unforgettable kind of ass.
Whatever she was, too bad Jim Morrisson or Alex Turner didnt possess this body of mine and do their magic of a soft whisper to set waterfalls onto those panties of hers.
Maybe in another alternate universe.

For the Vision of the Exception is all that I'm able to enjoy.

Life photographer Bill Ray

A lovely skull sat upon a highway,
Setting his eyes on the rising sun.
A hungry bone walks on the midway,
While the white children are having fun,
On a morning after a fat pedophile has bribe your silence like a gift for his whores,
Doors,
Snores,
Tipping toes upon the floors,
Hodor? Mordor?
An Evil bought at the stores,
Why is this a Jewish Folklore?
Gollum, Gollum,
I thought Gandalf had told them,
One must never obsess upon the Golden.
Raping the innocence,
without an evidence,
Faith in the Governance,
All this sounds like a Rebelliance?

Creating a New Word :- + Rebelliance : An Alliance of Rebels.

But no longer can I accept the Buddhist philosophy of detachment. It has freed me from my pain and sorrow but it has robbed me from my courage to grab some and fulfill my desire.

Maybe its time for me to adopt the Dylan Thomas Quote :

I will not go quietly into that Good Night,
But instead Rage against the dying of the light.

JACK KEROUAC's On the Road movie trailer :

The Rebirth of Hip Hop

2014-01-08T19:14:00.000+08:00

HIP HOP IS DEAD. Or at least that how it seemed to look like in the mainstream media. Dont get me wrong there is still Rap but the content of their raps are the exact opposite of what the entire ether of Hip Hop used to be.

What is Hip Hop?

Hip Hop is a Sound Symbolisms of Rhythmatic Verbal Engineering of Word Manifestations.

It is the Poetry of the New Era. It is a harmonically corruption and alteration of words that is filled with the desire to transcend the isolated experience of One’s life journey and communicate the abstract and intangible emotions in short compilations of verses. Hip Hop or Rap, like Poetry is a Literary Art that uses the aesthetic and rhythmic qualities of Language and carries a deeper meaning in its verbalisation. Rap is the ultimate form of Phonaesthetics in our modern age.

Hip Hop first emerges into the culture of Humanity in the 1970s when the Black (African American) and Latino Youth in the East Coast of the United State of America was finding a new form of Musical Style to express their displeased with the Life in the concrete jungle of Bronx and Harlem, New York City. This genre of music is of course influenced by many other musical genres such as the Jamaican Reggae and Rock Steady that seems to become an anthem to the struggle of Black Resistance underneath the oppression of Western Society. Hip Hop was a method of letting out all the bottled up emotions and showcasing the true of the lifestyle and hardship of the poor folks in the Ghettos. Many other subcultures of Arts surface with Hip Hop such as the Street Art and Graffiti, DJ-ing, MC-ing, Beatboxing and of course Break Dancing. Hip Hop first got noticed by the mainstream Medias during the 80s with such tribes or gang, N.W.A, RUN DMC, Public Enemy and many more.

And of course the 90s, gave us the great Tupac Shakur, Wu Tang Clan, Notorious B.I.G, Public Enemy, The Pharcyde, Snoop Dogg (before he evolve to a Lion), Beastie Boys, A Tribe Called Quest and the list goes on and on and on.... It is considered by many as the Golden Age of Hip Hop. (Mid 80s-Early 90s).

So what happened????

Hip Hop has always been accompanied by controversial issues for its usage of vulgar words and depictions of violence. At first the public and the mainstream medias are opposed to the Hip Hop culture but as soon as they realized that there is no way of stopping an amazing beat, they decided to adopt it into their system with selective tracks. Of course we cant blame the medias for finding those censorship and bias air times but it seems to have slowly deteriorates the quality of the Hip Hop contents. During the 90s, many of the greats Hip Hop artistes were being shot and killed in the streets and the battles between the West Side and the East Side dividing the culture has made it easier for the Death of Real Hip Hop and the manipulations of mainstream media into commercializing this culture. Those artistes which survive the wars and the cold cases of the 90s can be seen either working with big companies into making big money to get out of their hardship life or defending the true spirit of Hip Hop and being pushed back to the underground. As we enter the 2000s, the culture of Hip Hop is so diversified and dissected that is seems to have loss the street credits. It is wasnt all that bad, the R&B genre have seemed to be adding some Soul into Hip Hop and allowing it to adapt. But by the 2010s, R&B too was on its way out as the culture of Electronic Music and Dubstep took center stage. As usual Hip Hop and Rap tries to adapt to the new genres but many would agreed that it isn't working out that well. It didnt exactly died but it has lost its roots and forgotten the ghetto it came from. From the Rebellious Spirit of the Streets, to Lost of Love R&B, to Gold Chains and Grills, to incoherent raps of auto-tuned cyborgs.

But of course there is always hope...Mos Def (now known as Yasiin Bey) is a great example of such...

Mainstream Hip Hop has become too glamorous and too high class to the point it doesn't represent the streets no more. Maybe it is time we stop taking the Streets to the Stage and bring the Stage to the Streets. Maybe its time for the rebirth of Drum and Bass Hip Hop. Maybe it is time for some Real Ghetto Music. You feel me?

It is time for the new generation of Rap.. It is time for the Reboot, the Rebirth of HIP HOP!!

http://www.youtube.com/user/TheCypherEffect

http://www.youtube.com/user/TheOrganizedThreat

There is too many new young Hip Hop artistes, you can find them either on the Cypher Effects or the Organized Threat channel on Youtube but since this is about the rebirth, I thought perhaps we focus on a few artistes mostly female Hip Hop because who doesn't love a chick that can rap? Who is better to give birth to the new Hip Hop than those young mothers of the concrete jungle? Now I know these artistes are mostly from the West Coast but since the birth of Hip Hop is from the East Coast, then it seemed almost perfect that the rebirth would be from the opposite side...That doesnt mean there isnt a movement going on in the East just I am more familiar with the West...

GAVLYN

Biography

The 23-year-old L.A.-based rapper GAVLYN has been rapping since 2006.

She`s a member of the Movement Organized Threat and Broken Complex which supports artists on an international scale and aims to give Hip Hop music a fresh, poetic and timeless touch.

GAVLYN`s music is inspired by Old School, 70s Funk and 60's music. Yet, despite her devotion to Hip Hop, it`s not her only source of music. She`s also fond of Rock, Drum & Bass ,House Music and Jungle Music.
Cit: “It`s important for the music to be open-minded and not to limit oneself “.. GAVLYN is one-of-a-kind. Even if her Beats sound like fresh from the 90s, her new album is interspersed with modern accents.

Her unique voice, her authentic and direct air, her diverse Flows and her exquisite Beats make her a real treat and a much wanted artist in the Rap crowd. Her album From the Art was released in October 2012 by L.A. label Broken Complex and since then has been on the road to success. The song What I Do has been played 3.7 million times on YouTube so far.

After having performed exclusively in L.A. things took a dramatic turn when, at the start of 2013, GAVLYN set out to conquer Europe. By now a whole lot of fans all over Europe have rejoiced in her shows!

Her third album, Modest Confidence she's taking a different approach in baby steps with a whole new flow and not so much boom bap only a little ;) peppered with contributions by producers from all over the world, will be released by the end of 2013. Her refined rhymes give a hint at her personal development and show a new face of the young artist.

FACEBOOK : https://www.facebook.com/GAVLYNMUSIC

Band interests

www.soundcloud.com/gavlyn
www.youtube.com/gavlyngavlyn

MY OPINION : She is the ultimate embodiment of feminism power with a proper lady-like manner and yet ghetto it all out with her wordplay. Her physical beauty is an amplification of her persona. Her ether is pure and lovely.

KLASSY

I LA LA LOVE HIP HOP :D

Klassy is a 18 years old (2014) Filipino girl raised in the Los Angeles, California who has a great passion for Hip Hop and it seems to be working for her and for the Culture.

MY OPINION : She has the happy go-lucky persona which goes perfectly with the up beats. Her curves are as smooth as her words and yes she was underage but not anymore. Hahaha... Nevertheless she can pull off a darker sound..

BLEEZIE

There isnt much information on Bleezie biography, like seriously this is her Facebook info :

https://www.facebook.com/BleezieDub7

https://soundcloud.com/bleeziedub7

About

you's a bitch if you hating on my houston hits. -spm

Biography

BLEEZIE BLAZÉ.

Artists we also like

Toro y Moi

Basic info

Joined Facebook

22/08/2013

Genre

hiphop

Current Location

Houston, Texas

Contact info

Booking agent

shit nigga i wish i had a manager lol

All I know about her is that she is Hispanic and she seems to rolling with the HideandSeekZoo crew...
And of course she is very beautiful with quite a rude mouth...

She is also found chilling with The Cypher Effect circle...

MY OPINION : She a Rebel Scum and I love it. A persona of fuck you and who the fuck cares about what people thinks. She aint afraid to be herself even though it may seems slutty or unladylike, it is her true voice in her dark words. And of course her beauty makes my mind dreaming of a Latino night with some herbal healing.

Miss Char

https://soundcloud.com/charmander-4
https://www.facebook.com/CHAR86TRIBE
http://www.youtube.com/user/CHAR86TRIBE

Not much info from her as well...

MY OPINION : She is doesnt have much videos or songs but from her Cypher Effect performance I can say that she is building up a persona that wish to speak the true state of reality. And she has an amazing voice that with practice and further developments will make it unique.

Now, I'm certain there is more amazing rapper and Hip Hop artistes from the West Side and certainly there is a lot more from the East Side of USA. But I cant list them all down. Hope these girls are enough for now to remind you that Hip Hop is still alive and well. If you're not convinced perhaps these guys will.

POETIC DEATH a.k.a VON POE VII

Description

After the third century a new breed of being began evolving its way into the gene pool, demons. Cursed not only with the shell of those that came before them, but also with the inability to walk under the sunlight for long periods of time. There was one amongst many who appeared unaffected by physical pains of the flesh dwelling amongst the wolves. His name was Poetic Death, his mission was misery.

OFFICIAL POETIC DEATH / VON POE VII:
CEO OF ORGANIZED THREAT
www.VonPoeVii.com / www.OrganizedThreat.com
FOR ARTIST BOOKING EMAIL: VonPoeVii@Gmail.com

Gavlyn and Poetic Death

MY OPINION : His wordplay is genius to mix the street smart and intellectual phrases. His persona is so perfect, maybe because I can relate to it the most. And the fact that he and Gavlyn are like brother and sister makes it all the more irresistible to love him.

PHORA

Phora was born and raised in the city of Anaheim,CA, where he began to pursue rap at seven years of age after recording his first track with his Father. Growing up, Phora was strongly influenced by both his father and graffiti to make music. Phora is currently dominating the west coast Hip Hop scene dropping quality music for the public and continuing to grow his massive following. about a year ago we were able to interview him link allowing everyone fans to get to now him on a personal level and understand what he is doing for Hip Hop. 2013 is Phora’s year and personally I don’t see anything that will get in his way……………… UndergroundHipHopBLOG.com

Facebook : https://www.facebook.com/PhoraOne
Twitter and Instagram : @PHORAONE

For booking & contact, email : thephoraone@yahoo.com

Official Website : http://phoraclothing.bigcartel.com/

MY OPINION : His tune is catchy and his words are relatable. He still a kid but arent we all? Its a great pleasure to just listen to him speaking his reality but at times it is a bit cocky, yet he has the rights to be. He is talented and his style is easily commercialized. As long he stay true to his street persona, he will have nothing to worry about and there will be no obstacle too big for him and his connections to overcome.

Honorable Mentions :
Eskupe (DJ)

The future looks bright for these kids and for Hip Hop...Yes there is still disagreement among each other but I hope they will never start another war and destroy the very thing they love...These new young Hip Hop artistes should be recognized for they are a Threat to the Mainstream media...They are organized enough to bring a whole new revolution for the new generation...

PEACE OUT ~

Dub FX & Stamina MC 'Only Human' Lyrics

2014-01-02T00:45:00.000+08:00

'Only Human'

A fair few people (mainly on YouTube) have been asking for the lyrics that feature in the Rooftop Sessions video I did with Dub FX in May. Well, for all you rhyme-enthusiasts or speakers of other languages, here they are!

Should you need reminding as to the actual video itself, it can be found here:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=STf7B33yEHw

I’m just a normal guy, with things to do before I die

Don’t always know the how or the why

Saw that I seemed to have a mind in doubt

So now I do what I can before my time is out

I've gotta do whatever helps my name

If I sleep on opportunities I've only got myself to blame

I felt for healthy change, left everybody else the same

All hell bent on the wealth and fame

I’ve always- seen things through different eyes

This kid got wise, refused to be stigmatised

If only you knew, you might get a big surprise

By the amount of people still getting gigs from lies

Of various kinds, these are precarious times

So I gather my thoughts, starting to prepare them as rhymes

So I can stay aware of the signs that confront me

‘Cos if it ain’t real I neither care or have time, to put it bluntly.

I’m just getting across my POV

Speaking from the heart and representing me only

That’s the main thing I try to get through with speech

Get everything out in the open like a nudist beach

More than just what I might do this week; whatever’s true

Clever, new, unique – and setting fools on a losing streak

I’m hoping you notice, I need you to study this

That’s my main AIM, not a screen name on buddy lists

But every now and then I get it wrong – though my head is strong

I’d rather we get along than to get it on

There’s so many MCs people love to hate

So I try my hardest not to punch above my weight

My only intent is to sublimate – not to be the topic of forum drama

Or a pub debate

But if I have been let me scrub the slate

These Rooftop Sessions - Dub FX, it's time to put that dub to plate.

What it comes down to, is I’m just another junglist kid

That basically had a dream

And over time what I’ve found true is I’d rather have my voice in your ear

Than my face in a magazine – publicity ain’t really me

Though I can flow superb if the time’s right

I really reckon I’m allergic to limelight

Some believe it’s wrong – but I only feel the heat is on

When the beat is gone

And the music stops – Boss, please don’t compare me to other MCs

‘Cos most of them dudes is lost

I'm well aware what involvement in this music costs

And how a little underground heat can soon be frost - gosh!

Some people think it’s all showbiz

I tell ‘em I’m 32 and still I’ve got no mortgage and no kids

And some weekends I’ll do no gigs

I wish you’d seen the looks that I’ve gotten, 'cos they really think that I’m so BIG

Read my rider and you’ll think “What is this raas?!

“Where’s all the champagne, the five stars, the business class?!”

All of that would just get dismissed fast; if you don’t believe me

My request is to kiss this arse

I spit this harsh 'cos you don’t know the depth of the scheme

How I repped for my team when I stepped on the scene

See, my life's nothing like what you expect

So get your specs checked if you think this lifestyle is 'jet set'

And yet, all I do is fret - what's my next step?

I'm stressed, working up a sweat, looking desperate

Okay, that's not true but I'm still concerned

I've made progress but I've got a lot of skills to learn

Like how to sing a subtle melody about my inner struggle

Internal conflicts that still get me in a muddle

Limited only by the force of my will

I'm slowly learning how to tap into the source of my skill.

I’m only human, slowly finding my way

Reminded each day of reasons for the lines that I say

I’m only human, someone who makes mistakes

I've had my fair share of mishaps and great escapes

I’m only human, tryna provide the stuff that you need

I’m not a machine, I promise if you cut me I’ll bleed

So stop assuming you get less than high quality

That's got me fuming, and not someone that I wanna be.

Peace. •S•

The Untold Story of the very first Story Teller

2013-12-27T16:11:00.000+08:00

The details of the stories you’re about to read are real. Or at least as real as you want them to be.

We begin our story on the untold story of how the very first story was told by the very first story teller with a little cup of tea underneath the mango tree not because it’s related in any way to the story just because it is rather a nice thing to do drinking on a hot summer day. Not that it is summer time here where I writing this words because there is no such thing as four seasons in the tropical equators but still we can’t deny a cup of tea is always a good way to start a story.

We began the landscape of the scene that is about to be untold with a nude young lady trotting through the thick blanket of snow across the stage towards a man who lay unconscious beneath a dead tree who is also in the nude. Wait what? No nudity? Damn censorships.

The young lady crouched next to the unconscious man and began to wake him up as the snow melts into scenery of a multicoloured African plain and the tree began to bloom its green leaves roofing the sunlight from the suddenly appeared star in the almost cloudless sky. She was a beautiful young female with a perfectly shape structure of the very first fully evolved human body that is suddenly covered by a thin layer of animal skin. She stare down at the unconscious man who was also suddenly dressed in a layer of animal skin, his body was a perfect specimen of a male species though some would considered it as hairy as an ape but I say that is how a proper Man should be just because I am a hairy little fucker (I meant gentleman) as well. After a few trials of trying to wake him up by grunting and making incoherent noises, she starts to use a physical method of hitting his head with his hard wooden club that magically appeared in her hands. That woke him up unsurprisingly in a surprised manner.

I wish I could tell you some sort proper introduction to these two character and their history but like stated earlier this is the story about the very first story told, so there is a vague description of who and what really happen for History didn’t bring his quill to the classroom to write down the details on that day. So let’s just name the male as Ugh and the female as Emily. Why Emily? No apparent reason. They won’t be calling each other name anytime soon so doesn’t really make any different if we call her anything else.

Ugh and Emily sat beneath the tree. They were partners and could be considered as a married couple. They are primitive human beings and still unable to communicate in a constructed sounds of singular language of common understanding. So it is saved to say that Ugh and Emily is and will be the only happily married human being ever lived and mainly because they both can’t speak a single word of language yet. Sadly that is about to change.

Ugh took some branches of a bush that contains leave that almost resemble a hand of spear-like fingers and start a fire with it in order to cook the left over mammoth meat of his recent hunt. He inhales the smoke of the burning branch and felt a sudden tingling feeling in his stomach. His skin felt a little numbness as a sudden emotion deep inside his heart began to emit an affectionate sort of euphoria as he stare at his partner. He stares at her skin that is softer than the mammoth’s buttocks, her harsh lips of pure ecstasy and her eyes of vulnerability that hides beneath her unwashed dirty hair. He had the sudden urge to tell her how much she meant to him. He had the sudden urge to express his affection towards her.

He began to open his mouth. The walls of his throat vibrate in aesthetic motion as a great gas of trap air released a huge burping motion. ‘BURP.....!!’, said Ugh in perhaps one of the loudest burping echo ever recorded in history of mankind so far.

‘Ghastly,’ disgusted Emily the very first word ever spoken in the human language before she continued with. ‘Where is your manner, dear? Please don’t act like such an ape and be more civilize will you?’ She continued before saying more and more words which has nothing to do with the world or reality.

Ugh look at her and replied. ‘Uh?’

She then continues talking and complaining about everything. She started to tell stories of gossips to her husband about that other cave-woman who lived on the other side of the plains who apparently has better clothes that she does.

And so concludes the story of the very first word to be spoken by a human being in the universe. From that day onwards the female of the human species could never keep their mouth shut. It will be another few more generation from Ugh before the male species began to mature and talk back to the woman before regret doing so. Unfortunately for the human species, the two opposite genders will never come to an understanding until the 79^th Century of the Human Civilization, just before the destruction of their species. The conversation went something like this:

‘Okay fine, you were right. I was wrong. I'm sorry,’ said Tr1zel, the last female human alive as she was being torn apart, atoms by atoms due to the Quantum Microwave Disaster. ‘But it was your fault Bob for not buying me take-out.’

‘WOMAN! You destroyed the whole universe just because you forgot that you left a metal spoon in the microwave when heating up your mushroom soup!’ said Bob as the fabric of reality imploded from existence.

And that is how the very first and the very last word was spoken and how the very first and the very last story was told.

The Devil & The Angel

2013-12-27T03:47:00.000+08:00

WARNING : THE CONTENT BELOW IS STRICTLY FOR 18 AND ABOVE

I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY LOSS OF INNOCENCE OR HORNY-NESS CAUSED BY THE WRITINGS OF THESE WORDS

YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

THE DEVIL :

The Devil and The Catholic Schoolgirl

You can watch it first and then read while the video plays as your background music.

The light from the unveiled moon shines brightly through the open window balancing the luminescence of the wide and beautifully decorated chamber with the dimly lit aromatic candles. All these details are futile for the main attraction of the room lies in the middle of the bed, where a man and a teenage girl are performing the ancient ritual of the spiritual entanglement. Ignorant to everything else except for the activity that is taking place between them. He holds her vulnerable smooth skin with his strong, muscular arms as his lips skimming across her eyebrows and around her ears before nibbling on her earlobes. He slowly put his lips on her neck and sucks his way down to the collarbone and back up again towards her chin. He gave a little bite on her lips before knotting his tongue with hers.

After a small kiss on her nose, he looks into her beautiful ocean-blue eyes as his hands brushed through her long golden blonde curly hair and unto the back of her brassiere. He slowly unhooks them and ripped it off her with his teeth like a wild hungry wolf. She could not help but to give a little laugh. He glides his hands across her body as his lip begins to make its way down from her collarbone through her clevis and underneath her perfectly carved and firmed breast. His lip kisses her breast in a rotating vortex towards her nipples. He gave great patience and self control from rushing straight for the main prize of her sharp pointy milky tits and instead he just circles in a teasing motion around them. Her pleasurely annoyed hands grab his head and guided his lips towards her nipples.

As his lip busy praising her breast, his hands was on a serious mission of unlocking her satin panties and fiddling through the mouth of her secret heaven between her thighs. His lips continue making its way down through her strong sweaty torso and gave a lick around her belly button before resuming its journey towards her thighs. His lips kiss the side of her thighs and the mouth of her heaven. His nose skimmers against her delicate skin of her vulva as his tongue breeched into her wet, turgid flesh canal. At the final moment of his deliberate kisses, her back sprung into an archway as she weeps with grateful ecstasy.

His lips return to her lips as he stares into her eyes, she could feel a burning sensation between her thighs. She could feel the enormous, blood-gorged pole of muscle entering her body giving a thrusting and unbelievable pleasure that made her gasp.

She hung her arms around his neck and wrapped her upper thighs trying to hold on with the movement of his body. In the most pleasurable ways, he was savagely torturing and arching her wet sticky pelvis to a degree that she never had experience before.

Harder and harder until for the first time of the night she reached a shattering climax as her thighs were now over flowing with the crawly flood of his semen.

The man lay back on the pillows and lights up a cigarette grinning with his accomplishment while the girl tightly wraps her legs around his body. The man looks at her and smiles.

(Play and read on..if the last video is still playing just let it be and press play and continue reading)

The mobile phone on the bedside table rings and the man turns around to pick it up. The screen displays the name Neil Adam and the picture of him passed out on the boobs of some black prostitute identifying that it was him who was calling the phone.

‘Hello Neil?’ answered the man.

‘Hey Lucy, could we meet up for some beers, man? I had a long day and just need someone to unwind with,’ said Neil on the other end.

‘Is it Tristan again? Yeah sure I’ll meet you at the World’s End in half an hour,’ said the man.

‘Aite, thanks Satan.’

‘No problem,’ said the Devil as he hangs up the phone and turns back to the girl on his side.

‘So you’re leaving huh?’ said the girl as she lights up a cigarette of her own.

‘Yeah, I’m sorry love but I have gotta go and meet my mates down at the pub.’

‘So you gonna just fuck me and leave me huh? Typical Demonic acts,’ said the girl. ‘Go ahead Lucifer but remember if you leave me now don’t expect me to be here when you return. I know a lot of other Demons and Angels who would love to tap this ass. Remember your brother, Michael? I heard his last whore died of orgasms. Maybe I should go over and get my fix there instead.’

‘That is ridiculous. Angels have no private parts. They got no sexual organs to be having sex with anyone,’ said Lucifer, the Devil in a joking manner as he puts on his clothes.

‘Oh is that why I can’t feel a thing just now. A Fallen Angel huh? ’ said the girl as she took out a Brontosaurus-Shape vibrator from the drawer of the bedside table. ‘More like, Can’t Get It Up Angel.’

‘Now why do you have to say hurtful things to me? Mary, you know I love you but my friend is facing some problems with his suicidal brother,’ said the Devil. ‘I’ve got to be there for my mates.’

http://www.imboycrazy.com

‘What about my problem huh? I’m fucking the Devil for crying out loud and I expected more sex than this, plus I deserve more respect and recognition from your Demon crowds but no they look at me like I’m just some sex slaves of yours,’ shouted Mary. ‘Am I just some whore to you, Lucy?’

‘Of course not, my love. You’re not one of those skank I pick up by the streets,’ said the Devil as he holds Mary’s hands and gazed into her teary eyes. ‘I felt in love with you from the very first time I spied on you masturbating in the confession booth at the church in your Catholic school.’

Lucifer kisses Mary’s lips with a fiery passion as his hand grabs the dinosaur-shape vibrator beside her and shoved it up her asshole. He then skims his lips and brushes his goatee down her sweaty body and licks her wet vagina while turning on the vibrator.

http://www.imboycrazy.com

‘Okay fine. You can go and see Neil,’ said Mary in a distracted by pleasure voice as she began to prepare a line of cocaine on the Holy Bible that was lying on the bedside table. ‘Dont forget to buy some groceries on the way back and remember to pick up a bag of meth, cocaine and a bottle of Angel Dust from Pastor Perry too. We’re running low on them.’

‘Mary, I thought you were quitting meth,’ said the Devil in a disappointing manner.

‘Oh yeah, I forgot,’ said Mary as she snorted the line of coke on the Holy Bible while a dinosaur-shaped vibrator buzzing away in her arsehole. ‘Just the coke and Angel Dust then.’

‘Okay fine. What kind of Angel Dust are we talking about here? The one from the Black Priest who has to stuff an angel with a whole load of drugs until every inch of his body even his wings is nothing more than just mind altering substances? Or the one where they forcefully cremate an angel in the psychedelic brew of Babylonian Fire? ’ asked the Devil genuinely.

http://www.imboycrazy.com

‘Oh I didn’t know there was a second type of Angel Dust. I’ve never tried Angel Wing version. If you can find it bring back both,’ said Mary as she took the vibrator out from her anus and stuff it up her vagina.

‘Alright then darling,’ said the Devil as he gives a goodbye kiss on Mary forehead. ‘See you later.’

Mary, who was already in another euphoric dimension as the dinosaur-shape vibrator ejaculating a dose of mescaline into her vagina, completely ignored the fact that the Devil has burst into flame and vanished into thin air. Yet again, such display is no longer a surprise for her.

http://www.imboycrazy.com

THE ANGEL :

The Angel and The Prostitutes

‘What good is your life here?’ said the old women unconvincingly to the young and frightened group of girls cramped in the back compartment of the truck. ‘Back here there is no good jobs for girls, no decent men and no parents to support you. We giving you a better life moving down south, just be brave and take a chance.’ She continued as the truck slowly slips across the security border in the stealth of the dark night and thick jungle. The girls look at each other in fear but yet a glint of hope of a better life than what they had back in their village. Most of these girls had the same tragic background. Many lost the family to a debt with a tyrant. Many were tricked by young handsome boys into this journey. And many were uneducated except one. Her name was Tata. She was a well educated girl who like many others lost her way due in a lover’s affair. She sat there huddled close against another girl wondering the same thing everyone in the truck was wondering. What have I done?

(Play and read on..if the last video is still playing just let it be and press play and continue reading)

Throughout the night they had been driving before they finally stop. The door banged open as two big men in unfashionable clothes steps to escort the young girls down. Tata slowly shivers down the truck despite the beautiful sunrise over the distant seaside she wasn’t feeling to hopeful of the events yet to occur. One of the man who Tata assumes to be the driver as he was holding the keys lead the pack of hungry and tired girls onto a trail that takes them deeper into the jungle. The girls hurried through the thick bushes cutting through their delicates skins. It wasn’t long before they approach a small clearing in the middle of the forest where a Man whose face was lost the smoke sits calmly on the front of his car which was parked next to a white van where another two brutal looking guys stands.

‘You’re late,’ said the Man in an accent Tata did not recognized. The Man was wearing white suits with golden necklace and watch made to flaunt his status of wealth. In Tata’s mind such a handsome face as this man with his amazing sense of self presentation should have been the perfect model as a gentleman and maybe he was. Tata knew she was no longer in the land where she used to call home; she had finally crossed over into the land of opportunities. ‘Come on hurry up. Stand in line my master wants to take a look at you,’ order the driver. The girls drag their feet and dusty clothes to form a line.

The Man started to walk down the line and momentarily pause at each girl to evaluate their rates. As the Man nears Tata, he gave a smile which forces her heart to pound out of her chest.

He looks at her with great interest taking his time as he circles her before standing back in front of the line next to the driver. The Man whispered to the driver and the driver shouted, ‘Take off your clothes!’ The girls stared at each other in shock. They had been promise a good job of cleaning offices, nursing kids and selling dresses. None of them was ready for this and none of them moves or want to believe what they had just heard.

‘Do you hear me? I say take off your clothes before I take it out for you,’ shouted the driver once again.

One of the girls begins to cry and this pisses off the driver who walked over to her with heavy footsteps and slaps her face giving shockwaves to her fragile body and letting her fall down to her knees. She scurries on the dirt as the man tries to grab her blouse and rips it open. She pushes him away with her knees and stumbles to get up. The driver gave her a vicious kick before she finally gave up and fall. He tore the clothes out of her back and pulls her back on her feet. She stands there frightened with her arms across her breasts. He pulls down the skirts and tore off her underwear.

He gave a sharp stare at the other girls and one by one, they quickly fumbles on their buttons, peeling off their shirts, unzipping their skirts and pants.

‘Quickly now, take everything off! Why are you bitches so slow!’ shouted the Driver as he circles the group of scared girls while the older women stood next to the Man in white suits discussing the matters of transactions.

This was supposed to be a line of naked scared girls but I couldn't find anything that wasn't pornography

The line of naked girls shivers and they hugged their own body trying to cover their exposed skins as the Man in white walks up and down the line checking his new products. He thoroughly inspects every single breasts with a firm squeeze that made some of the girls squealed and uses his walking stick to spread the legs of the girls as he violently molest each of their crotch while inserting his middle fingers into their vagina which made the girls sobs silently.

When he reached to Tata, he nearly lost his ring on his fingers when he penetrated her tight virgin pussy which bleeds onto his hand. He looks at her and smile showing his perfect white teeth with four golden incisors.

‘I’ll test this one out,’ said the Man to the elder woman.

With those words Tata’s life has turn from a nightmare to a living hell as the Man pushes down to her knee while the other girls stand watching in the line next to her. He unzips his pants and let his penis dangles in front of Tata’s quivering lips.

She shrieks away in disgust but the Man’s firm hands around her throat made her gag open her mouth. The Man thrusts his penis into Tata’s choking mouth as he whispered in her ears, ‘Suck it, you little bitch or I’ll break your scrawny little neck!’

Tata unwillingly sucks his penis as the tears rolled down her cheeks. The man penis began to erect in the back of her neck making her choke for air. ‘Good! The rest of you, down on your knees and open your mouth, now!’ said the man in a soft polite manner to the other girls on the line who obediently does as told. He took his penis out of Tata mouth before sticking it into the mouth of the girl next to her as he makes his way to every single one of them in the line. Tata spits out the sticky fluids from her mouth and buried her faced down to the ground not wanting to see the atrocities being done beside her. ‘Oh God, please help us..Save us,’ she prayed beneath her breath as she began to weeps.

(Play and read on..if the last video is still playing just let it be and press play and continue reading)

The Man finishes the line of girls with his force blowjobs before turning back toward Tata with his erected penis dripping of saliva of the seven different girls. He pulled Tata by her hair from the ground and whispered casually into her ears, ‘There is no God! I should know..’

He throws the weeping girl to the ground on her back and forced apart her thighs. She closes her eyes shut as the man’s engorging member penetrated her flesh in a sharp sensation of pain with the strange mixture of pleasure. The Man slams his hips against her pelvic like an angry bull banging against a small cage as Tata’s fist pounding hard against the dirt and punching against her violator while screaming at the top of her lungs for help.

After a few more thrust of his pelvic, she was beginning to feel a sense of euphoric pleasure before feeling incredibly hornier than she has ever felt in her life. From hitting her rapist to wrapping her arms around him making sure he doesn’t leave until she reaches her own climax.

The girls who were in the line beside her too was having a change of heart towards the situation, as they wipe the essence of his cock from their mouth there was a sense of sweetness that leaves an addictive craving for more. They stare at the man humping Tata away on the dirt next to them and found themselves turned on by the scene.

Their hands which once covered their breast and crotches from embarrassments are now slowing making motions of sexual interest. The girls grabbed their own breasts and circled their nipples as Tata screams turn from pain to joy, they rubbed their own crotches before inserting their own fingers and began pleasuring themselves to the Man’s actions.

Soon they found themselves crawling toward the Man like a swarm of horny zombies hungry for the Man’s cock.

The Man turns around seeing the girls surrounding him and Tata, all craving and fighting for his penis of pleasure. He smiled as he pulls out of Tata’s wet tight vagina and began standing back on his feet. Tata who was unsatisfied by this action grab a hold onto his cock as the other naked girls began to tear apart his trousers and suits from his body.

The man unbuttons his shirts and said in a plain tone ‘From now on, you will all be known as The Whores of Michael’ With a flash of illumination radiating from the man inner core, his clothes disintegrated into ashes revealing a perfectly sculpted body of man with a handsome face as the golden chain stood adorning his majestic figure. On his back was the whitest and the most grandeur of wings that an Angel being could ever had as his whores wrapped their body around his legs while Tata lips still attached to his dick. It was a picture that only the great masters of paintings in the Renaissance Europe could have painted.

The Story of The Devil and The Angel is apart of the same story-line in my other post :

I’m an Atheist, no I don’t worship the Devil but he is my drinking buddy

Maybe one day I collect enough writings and actually make a proper novel out of these characters but for now, I'm too lazy.

Second Hand Stories : The Lady Cleaner

2013-12-18T10:16:00.001+08:00

Second Hand Stories

The Lady Cleaner

HDR - Graffiti Attack KL by mayonzz

There is always magic in the city for those who know where to look, whether it’s upon the stolen kisses of the young lovers in the generic shopping mall or whether it’s behind the alley with the rats returning home from a long day of work making its commute on the motorway made out of water pipes back into the world below. There is always something beneath the surface of our everyday routine that we often fail to notice its magic. Take that lady cleaner for example, she may look tired or even bored from cleaning the floor all day long and many would just ignore her existence but to say she is sad of her life would be a very misguided conclusion. There she is in all her glory, a mid thirty years old women beautiful in her apron with her yellow gloved hands armed with a toxic cleaning spray and a wet cloth wiping away all the evidence of that floor’s history. Though her face may fill with expressionless look but her mind is busy at work. Let’s listen to the magical dreams of a cleaner lady

Gordon Parks: Issues in Black and White

-----------------------------------

‘This shithole is a mess but hey that’s why they called me.’

The footsteps of her black high-heels echoed in the dimly lit diner. She stood at the door next to a black cabinet-like trolley staring at the mess that she has to clean. The chequered tiles floor flooded with the mixture of blood, Bolognese sauce, coffees and other drinks with broken plates, cups and cutleries scattered all over the small Italian diner. The furniture of the establishment has been relocated into two opposing walls of defence on each sides of the room. Most of the brown wooden tables are freshly redecorated with bullet holes and bloods. There was a pile of human bodies beside the bar, most of those deceased are mostly men dressed in fine suits of greys and browns, and all had a distinct look of an Italian descendant. The green walls too suffered the collateral damages of this mafia gunfight showdown with half of the room burned in what looks to be a grenade explosion. She smiled as she began to open her black trolley.

The doors of her black trolley swings open showcasing the latest gadget of the cleaning technology. She carried out a big bottle of a home-made solution of detergent that will guarantee to completely remove any stains making it virtually undetectable even underneath the UV lights of a professional forensic scientist as she began unloading her equipments. Her yellow gloved hands skimmed her sexy curves almost molesting this new dream body of hers as she double checks her tight latex body suit. As she ties her long wavy hair into a bundle, a young man walks into the diner from the back door of the diner behind the bar.

‘Evening, Santiago,’ said The Lady Cleaner in a seductive new voice.

‘Ola, Miss. I’ve talked to Valtino on how they want these bodies to be displayed and he said to just get rid of them. So I’m going to use the Acid Baths for these lots if that is alright with you? ’ asked the skinny little brown young man to his superior.

http://www.danieljoderphotography.com/

‘Yes that will be fine. Did you find a parking out back for the truck?’ said the Lady as she placed a strawberry flavoured cigarettes on her lips and lights it up with a match.

‘Yes, miss,’ said Santiago as he began to zipped up his white hazmat jumpsuits. ‘What do you think happened here? A meeting went wrong between the two families? Who do think won? The Corleone or the Montanas?’

‘I do not know and frankly I don’t really care,’ muttered the Lady letting out a puff of smoke from her red lips as she walks behind the bars searching for an unbroken bottle. ‘As long they pay for my services.’

‘Haha...True, True. The more they fight among each other the more they have to call us to clean up their mess,’ said the young man in a cynical tone. ‘How long have you been doing this, miss?’

‘Far too long, love,’ she said as she poured a glass of whiskey into a clean cup she could find.

‘How do you do it? I mean I’ve been working with you for the just a year now and I’ve been thinking. I’m beginning to feel guilty about deleting the existence of all those people. Every single one of them whether they are thugs or victims,’ said the young man as he began rolling a joint on the counter of the bar opposite his employer.

‘You talking about the assignment I gave you yesterday aren’t you?’ said The Lady Cleaner who looks more like a BDSM club bartender.

‘Yes, now I’ve done some gore-y things with you miss but yesterday was the first time I felt that guilty conscience kicking in,’ said Santiago as he finish rolling his joint and began searching for a lighter.

The Lady Cleaner lights up a match for the joint and said ‘Why don’t you tell me about it?’

‘I had to bath a ten years old girl’s body in acid that had been raped and killed by our client. I had to erase every traces of her from the torn semen-filled clothes to the tiny blonde hairs ripped from her head in that fucker’s basement. The worst part of all, the Mayor shake my hand after I’m done and told me that I was doing a great service to our country,’ Santiago coughed out the smokes from his lungs as his eyes began to tear. ‘Tell me miss, whose side are we on? The Devil’s or the Angels?’

‘None. We work for those who pay us,’ said the Lady as pour another cup of whiskey for Santiago. ‘I understand if you have a difficulty to handle the moral aspects of our works but in this line of job we cannot let our feelings get in the way. We are paid to clean and that is what we will do. We are not paid to think or feel. Our clients do not want our opinion just clean and get the hell out. Understand Santiago?’

‘Yes, Miss. I understand. It’s alright,’ said Santiago as he sipped on the whiskey and smokes another puff of his joint.

‘Look dear, to you it may look as if we are only servicing the bad guys but trust me, we are working for the angels in the long run. As long as you remember what I taught you,’ comfort the Lady.

‘Yes, always document all your works. Keep a small token of evidence, a few photos of the incident without the client’s attention and lock them safe for insurances,’ said Santiago in a rehearsed manner.

‘And for all those faces that haunt your dream every night, get a journal. Write them down and give them an afterlife in your words. That’s all you can do right now,’ said the Lady.

‘Haha, I’m not much of a writer. I got no stories to tell and we don’t know anything about the stories of those who we clean. All we have are our clients,’ wept the young man.

‘My dear Santiago, this world is filled with pain and darkness, every corner we make in this life is filled with nightmares and sorrow. This doesn’t mean it’s always bad. Yes, our job is in the deepest darkest shadows of this fine city with only silence as our witness but even maggots have a purpose in this circle of life. We clean the dirt of secrets for our clients just as how maggots eat out the dead but without them trees won’t be able to absorb the nutrition for life. Though you can’t see the tree that we will be feeding now but one day you will,’ said the cryptic Lady.

‘You’re talking about your big plan aren’t you?’ said Santiago.

‘Yes, I have a plan in which I have been working on all this time to serve justice and bring back some balance in this bloody city,’ smiled the Lady.

‘What is it then?’ asked the curious stoner.

‘You’re not part of this plan. I am preparing you for something bigger,’ said the Lady. ‘There is so much that a woman can do in this society of ours. You shall learn everything about hiding secrets and gathering blackmails, cleaning evidence and hiding your identity. And once you’re ready you will understand the bigger picture and see the tree that we are supposed to feed in our foul destiny.’

‘Sounds great, Miss but I don’t think I can continue if we have to do more of what I did yesterday,’ said the young man. ‘My soul can withstand plenty but I don’t have the hearts to help these monsters out with their dirty deeds anymore. I don’t think writing it or making up stories about these victims will ever clean these bloods from my hands.’

‘I understand. ’ She puts out her cigarette.

‘Look Miss, I’ll help you out with this place but this is the last job for me. After this I’m out.’

She fastens on her mask and nodded an approval.

trishamonsterr

‘Thank you, Miss,’ said Santiago as he smokes his last joint.

With just a blink of an eye, The Lady Cleaner sprays a bottle of her home-made air refresher up Santiago’s nose letting loose a black smoke to crawl up into his brain and down his throat into his lungs and intestine as his internal organs began melting in the corrosive respond. Santiago timbered down from the bar stool with trails of black smokes oozing out from all opening of his body.

‘Such a pity, he was very handsome and would have been a perfect fall guy,’ she said.

She walks out of the bar and unzipped her mask. She took out her phone and ran through her contacts and calling a name called, The Garbage Man.

Alter Ego with Carly Foulkes

‘Sir, Santiago failed the test,’ said the Lady.

‘Understood. I’ve deployed The Window Washers on your location to help you out,’ said a deep voice from the phone.

‘Sir, how is the plan going? Do we have enough ‘dirt’ to proceed to the next level?’ asked the Cleaner.

‘I’m afraid not. Reports from the Plumbers are negative while the others are steady. I have assigned you a new apprentice,’ said The Garbage Man on the phone.

‘Someone from the Ghettos again?’

‘Nope, a normal middle class kid from the richer part of the city. In fact he might be a little tougher to persuade than the rest. I’m sending you his profile. Good Luck.’

She looks on her smart phone staring at a handsome neat young man’s face and smiled.

‘Clean.’

-----------------------------------

Now this may not be exactly what she is dreaming about right now as she wipes the tables but again she might not need to. Who are we to say that she doesn’t freelance as a ‘Cleaner’ for other things? Or perhaps she is just dreaming about earning some extra money to ensure that her youngest daughter stays in school. Trust me if someone come up to her and tell her that they will pay her a small amount of extra cash and all that she has to do is grab some thrown out credit card bills or other details of the client’s house she’s cleaning, she would not hesitate to take up the offer.

Of course not all cleaners would indulge in such deeds but in this society where we barely even turn notice these lovely ladies, I doubt that they will be faithful to a snobbish rich dick. Maybe we need to treat them with more care; they are the ones who know our dirtiest little secrets. They know if you masturbated in your bed or if you shat in your pants, they know more about you than your husband knows about you. They know that you brought home a skanky whore that your mother would never approve but yet she hides that bitch was even there for you. So think twice about making her angry because who knows whether she kept any ransoms for a rainy day. I know I would.

Garathoa : A short tale of undefined Dream

2013-12-17T13:16:00.000+08:00

This is a tale of a simple story, too simple perhaps for any proper introduction or a quick history on any particular subject of the fiction that is about to be unfold. I shall not promise you readers that it will be a quick read neither can I promise a long luxurious adventure, all that i can promise is that if you would bear to read it, then I can assure you that all the details of the story is real. Or at least as real as you want it to be. The start of this story is very unusual start for any kind of story, it starts with a blank white of blank nothingness.

The Blank White of Nothingness was very content with it's state of none existence and absence of pretty much everything. It was very satisfied with not having any continuance of entity. It enjoyed not existing, until one single morning, (well technically there is no morning or night for time doesn't exist here but for the sake of formality we shall state that it is a morning, even though its not.) One morning a drop of snowflake drifted into existence and disturbed the quite peace of the blank nothingness. The Blank White Nothingness said nothing for it didn't know what it was, so it let the snowflake exist. Unfortunately this snowflake found the Blank White Nothingness as a cool new place to exist and decided to call up his friends to check out the scenery of none-existence. Soon a frenzy of community of snowflakes starts buying up the spacious scenery of the none-existence like a hot new property, and where there is snow-money there is Wind-Mafia boss who wants to monopolize the emptiness, and thus the none-existence is now occupied with strong winds pushing around the helpless snowflakes around.

Now the Blank White of Nothingness was irritated with the presence of the snow and the wind but it somehow manages to compromise with the idea of them hanging around its scene, but as soon as it see a young lady dressed in a red satin pyjamas trotting through the snow towards a man who laid unconscious beneath a tree covered in snow, the Blank White of Nothingness got really annoyed and burst into a whole universe of everything and anything.

The young lady crouched next to the unconscious man and begin to wake him up. She was a beautiful female youth with a perfectly shape structure of a body that is covered only by the thin layer of her satin clothing. Now to question her presence in the snow with her current state of fashion would be useless task for up till the last paragraph nothing existed. She stare down at the unconscious man who was dressed in a torn out baggy jeans and a shaggy shirt that hides beneath his black Hoodie jacket. Laid next to him was a big brown bag. After a few trials of trying to wake the poor bloke up verbally, the young lady decided to use a less lady-like method and begin to use the psychical method of hitting his head hard with her fist.

That woke him up unsurprisingly in a surprised manner.

'What? Who? Huh? Dude.....?' shouted the man stupidly as he began to recover his sight behind his thick long unwashed hair.

'Calm down, its only me,' said the shivering lady in red.

'Who are you? Where am I?'

'My name is Anna and I have no idea where we are. I was hoping you could answer that question,' said the lady who we now know as Anna.

'What do you mean you don't know where we are? You are the one who wake me up in this reality. Wait where is my bag?' said the curiously frighted bloke.

'Your bag is just there. I know I woke you up but just like you I woke up here without any explanation. You were the first thing I saw here and I was hoping you might help me out in understanding my current predicament,' explain Anna.

'I'm afraid I cant help you out. I am as lost as you are. The last thing I remember was....' paused the man in a soap-opera dramatic manner as he stares into the distant. (Not the overly emotional acting type but the we are about to go for a commercial break kind of acting.)

'Well what was the last thing you remembered?'

'Its none of your concern.'

'It is so my concern. If you somehow have any information on why we are here then I would like to know. I mean did you see any UFO recently or !@#$%^&* like that? Because the last thing I remembered was going to my sweet warm bed and falling asleep. Next thing I know I am here in this bloody cold weather.'

'This must be a dream then.'

'What do you sleep in your clothes and bag? Why were you so reluctant to tell me that?' asked Anna. 'Wait are you a homeless man?'

'This is a dream. You are not real.'

'I'm afraid I am very real indeed and I am freezing my butts off. Do you have any spare clothes in that bag of yours?'

'Yeah here,' said the homeless dude as he gave her a velvet scarf and a black sweater from his bag.

'Thank you. What is your name?' question Anna to the homeless dude who currently investigating his new reality.

'My name is Neil but you already knew that didnt you? You know exactly who i am since this is my dream and you're in it.This is all in my head and you're just a figment of my imagination,' stated the paranoid Neil.

'I'm real Neil, I am not part of your imagination. Beside why would you dream of me?'

'Well, that is obvious isnt it?' said Neil as he stare into Anna hazel brown eyes.

'Smooth move Casanova but if this is a dream then it would be me who is doing the dreaming for it was me who found you. I definitely would dream of someone better than a homeless man in a snow. so this isn't a dream its real.'

'Thats the problem, this aint your dream. It is mine.'

'Look Neil, i dont know how to prove to you that I am real and this isnt a dream. I am very real, see here,' insisted Anna as she punched Neil arms. 'Very real indeed, if it was a dream you wont feel the pain.'

'Unfortunately love, my arms are still numb from this weather and those words are exactly what I expected you to say' said Neil as he debates his believes. 'Tell me if Anna, if you are not just a dream of mine, then how do I know everything about you?.'

'What do you mean?' asked Anna.

'Your name is Anna Isabella. You're 21 years old artist living and studying in Paris. You were born Athens, had a lovely childhood in Austria before your parents died in a car accident in Beirut when you were 14 years old which forced you to be under the care of your crazy but rich uncle in a small Portuguese village and once you reach the legal age, you runaway to Venice in search for love But you instead ended up with the wrong crowd in Rome which was the cause of that one year struggling in Czechian streets before your uncle saved your ass back to college. ' said Neil as he lights up a cigarette to keep him warm.

'You're an insane homeless stalker...!' shouted Anna.

'Okay fine, tell me then, how would I know that every time you serve to an elderly couple in the cafe where you work, you would feel a little lonely and think of depressing future where you most likely would die alone in your loft apartment. Or how bout the fact that I know you get very excited and wet just seeing ordinary man painting your bedroom wall?' whispered Neil as he inspects Anna physique.

'Okay, now that is very creepy. How did you knew about that?' asked the frighted girl who just met a man who knew her deepest thoughts.

'Like I said. This is my dream. I created you, you were nothing but just a figment of my imagination.' said the man as the smokes slithers out of his lips.

'No.....how can I be just a imagination of yours? All that memory and experiences were real. How can I be sure that you're not just part of my dream that is why you know so much about me, ' said the frighted girl trying to justify her existence.

'Fine then. If I am your imagination, tell me. Who am I ?'

'Urmm.... You're Neil. A homeless man. A.......A.....a......,' the shocked Anna finds her next words to be filled with silences.

'You dont know who I am because I have never let you gave you such informations.'

'But my life....! It seems so real. And I feel real. How can a dream feel so real?'

'Because I wrote you in such a way. One man's dream in another's reality.'

'You're a Writer? You wrote my life story? You killed my parents and make my life a living hell?' questioned the furious Anna. 'Why cant you write something more pleasant and happy for me?'

'Sorry. You were supposed to be a Romantic Tragedy.' said the writer as he pick up his bag and began to walk away.

'Great my whole life is a lie and it is miserable little story because some guy taught it would be a great idea for a novel. Perfect.' said Anna in disdained. 'You're a very talented writer you know. My whole life have been a torture and filled with pain and despair. Hey wait where are you going?'

'To walk around.'

'Walk around? You're the writer of this dream world, right? The Great Dreamer. Cant you just create stuff with your thoughts or at least get us to a warmer location?'

'No.'

'No?'

'No.'

'What? Why? This is your dream inst it?' asked Anna.

'Well, yes but I cant just go changing things as I like. This place already has its set of laws and rules in which I too have to obey.' said the man as he blew a puff of smoke and turns it into a mist. 'Come here, let me show you.'

Neil wipe away the mist as he guides Anna towards a newly existed cliff and showed her a magnificent view of a wide magical kingdom, buzzing cyberpunk cities, great seas of pirate and mythical adventures in the horizon and a whole new reality of the nonsensical existence. Anna stares in awe.

'This is Garathoa,' said Neil as he walks up to the tree in middle of nowhere. 'We are currently standing at the highest peak of Mount Menachmi where the seed of my creativity first began with this tree. There is a whole story just on this tree alone but no point explaining it for I have it all here in my notebook in this bagpack.'

'Wait what? I still dont understand,' asked the bewildered dream girl, Anna.

'Yes, I know you ahve plenty of questions to ask and I am ready to answer all of them but first shall we go somewhere a bit more cozy? I am getting tired of this snow.'

'Urm. Okay.'

'Oh look a Door!'said Neil pointing to a door which had been called into existence and had no prior warning to the cold weather. The door was utterly surprised to be called there on top of a mountain in a blizzard, one minute it was being the best door of the 16th century Stratford-Upon-Avon village the next it was there being even more puzzled to know that it was not attached to any building nor does it need any walls or other structure to keep it standing. The Door was proud for its short life know that it was special. It feels very excited as Neil turns its knob and opened it to lead Anna in through the door, of course when they didnt turp up the other side like how the Door or Logic have predicted, both were mystified, dumbstruck and very annoyed. The Door had very little chance of complaining for as soon as Neil closes the door it has disappear from the mountain top and back to where it came from where it would try to explain its little sudden adventure to the House who was jealous in disbelief.

Meanwhile for Logic whom has taken a closer look at Garathoa's reality and saw many things he didnt like, talking animals, magical activities, scientifically too advanced technologies for ancient civilizations and many more. Logic was trying to make sense of it all as it saw Gods and Goddesses sitting in the Immortal's Cafe at Divine Downtown ordering Omnipotence Juice and playing 'All-Knowing' on the latest gaming console device. But as soon as Logic saw a group of British men who do not at all enjoy a cup of Tea, it decides to take a shotgun and shoot itself in the head, leaving Garathoa a Logic Free Zone.

I Hate It Here in This Brave New World

2013-11-11T03:14:00.001+08:00

There was a boy
A very strange enchanted boy
They say he wandered very far
Very far, over land and sea

A little shy and sad of eye
But very wise was he

And then one day, a magic day
He passed my way, and while we spoke
Of many things, fools and kings
This he said to me

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return"

The deep melody of Nat King Cole’s voice singing in my earpiece guiding my wandering imagination to a cliché black and white jazz setting for a story of this persona, whom carelessly listening to the lyrics as it echoes in his mind bringing memories of a forgotten stranger. But nothing can be said of my true predicament, this isn’t a story of a lonesome detective or some 1920s classic novels, no in fact I don’t even know what this article is all about yet. Maybe that is why I find myself walking underneath the twin towers at the witching hours of the night. Wandering underneath the great symbol of our capital city at the time of night when the hookers are taking their last few customers behind the streets, when the drunken rapist is comforting his eight years old victim, when the homeless are disturbed in their sleeps by ridicule from both the rascal youths and the authorities of our established society. Now don’t get me wrong, there is plenty of both good and evil deeds are being done at this moment of time in this concrete jungle but it has always been in mankind’s habit to easily forget the good deeds and focused on the negative actions of an individual. But that is not what my article is going to be about. No themed or idea can be summoned in this mind for a simple layout of a storyline for these words, I continue to ponder on the topic of this article.

I walked passed a dark alley where a homeless junkie was wiping the cum from his beard after giving his dealer the second blowjob of the night for another shot of heroine that is when I realized what I am seeing is the perfect metaphor of what Hunter S. Thompson once said :

“Journalism is not a profession or a trade. It is a cheap catch-all for fuckoffs and misfits -- a false doorway to the backside of life, a filthy piss-ridden little hole nailed off by the building inspector, but just deep enough for a wino to curl up from the sidewalk and masturbate like a chimp in a zoo-cage.”

Now I am no Gonzo, no one is as Bad Ass as this motherfucker. I haven’t reached the stage of having a trunk filled of a wide variety of mind altering substance nor have I ever gotten a whole culture of motor biker gangs trying to kill me. The only similarities between me and Gonzo are our great curiosity in psychedelics substances and our usage of literature as a tool to express our thoughts. Plus we both don’t give a rat ass on anyone’s judgements.

After the eventful night with little spoken words and more of emotional absorption of psychic vibrations in the frames of the scenes of my night’s adventure, I’ve finally found a theme for my articles. A Gonzo Journalism-styled piece in where I would talk about anything and everything, from events I’ve attended to a discussion on the latest cultural/social trends and developments in the scientific communities to conspiracy claims that the lizard king from another dimension and has gotten hold on the global financial bankers and is now marching on the self-fulfilling prophecy of a Terminator-like Judgement Day. And perhaps later on we will be finding out that Humanity is currently living in a computer simulator world of The Matrix Reality because the artificial intelligence has already won the war. So yeah, we have a lot to talk about. Not all of the things written by me are true but yet it would be false to say it is all fictional writings and has no aspect of journalism for what I write is nothing more than the reality perceived through a different pair of eyes.

My name is Mr. Nobody. It’s not my real name of course. It’s a fucking pseudonym that I’ve used so many times so why not use it for this bloody articles. If I use my real name I have to pretend to be that personality in which people assumed of me but using Mr. Nobody, I can line up cocaine on my big fat cock and shove it into your corporatocratic society’s moral philosophy and you’ll fucking snort it and call it revolutionary. Mr Nobody is just a journalistic persona in which I’ll portray the current truth of our society’s biggest predicaments from cultural inequality such as our racial tensions and seek a fantasy-like insight into the historical events that might have contributed to these topics. I have used other pseudonyms before such as Psychedelic Monk, Nuke Abe, Ix, and even John Smith but Mr Nobody is the best character to be telling the tales of our modern tragedy. Maybe this choice of a mask would be clearer in later articles, or maybe it’s just some random choice, I am too interested in finding out.

But for now in this article I am still searching for a topic to talk about for this damn article, it’s not easy to focus on a single movement in this whole globe when the information are just overloading in the palm of our hands. It is no longer easy to catch the attention of mediocre minds to read an article anymore, books are slowly dying and literature will soon be obsolete. Don’t believe me? Currently there are scientist that are perfecting machinery of advance computing power that would be capable of reading and even visualizing your thoughts, memories and dreams. Give it another 50 years or so there will be gadgets that allow our thoughts and feeling to be connected through an electrical psychic communications. We would have implants in the back of our cranium to enhance our brain capabilities and even connect our consciousness into the cyber world. We would be a civilization that has access to the Matrix at anytime we chooses, it would be perhaps the quietest times of our human history but definitely a lot of headaches. Don’t think it’s possible? About 30 years ago, most adults do not believe that our society will be having Smartphone, heck they were still doubtful about mobile phones, their society would never really belief that we would be filling our daily experiences and personal information are shown publicly on the internet. Imagine what the next 30 years alone will change, touch screens are the past, holographic and flexible technologies are coming in next, our internet connections are getting faster and the wireless (wifi) range is expanding evermore, soon internet would be accessible anywhere worldwide in any area of the jungle. Information is gathering and spreading ever faster in our human history and creatively has becoming an epidemic in the mental philosophy of our society, and of course useless facts and bullshits are too increasing. Our society is reaching its crescendo of cultural interactions; the world is becoming a mixing pot of ideas.

It would be a scary brave new world but the same can be said about our present.

I flick the roach of my last joint for my breakfast and walk into the sea of sleepy citizens, a perfect crowd for a stoned face to be hiding in. Every single one of these poor fuckers looks like a fucking zombie even with their fresh faces and clown thick make ups, all subconsciously crawling towards that yummy brain for they are losing theirs. They are all losing their minds, all chasing that illusionary success but worst of all they are all willingly trading their consciousness in their brain-numbing entertainments for some cheap kicks to kill boredom. I stand here in this congested train station with only a few eyes staring at the beauty of the rising sun while others are busy staring at their gadgets. All the eyes are glued to the screens of their smart phones with their ears plugged with miniature speakers drowning any thoughts of unimportance. It is sad to know that smarter the phones, the more ignorant the society has become. Not stupid but ignorant, stupid is when one doesn’t know and does a mistake but ignorant is when an individual is fully aware of the situation but does nothing to change it, instead they just ignore the problem. In our society that has a near instant communications where all of human greatest sorrow and troubles are evermore present and annoyingly disturbs your daily dosage of entertainments, we often just ignore such post or share it for selfish satisfactions of redemptions for our lack of real actions.

This present reality of mine is like a nightmare scene from a Phillip K. Dick’s cyberpunk novel. Once we feared the televisions for zombifying our children’s mind but now there is a six year old boy that hold in his hand a gadget that can tap into the vast amount of information which dwarf the great library of Alexandria, is being used to entertain this innocent child because his parents are just lazy to take care of him. The greatest tool mankind ever made is being used to babysit a little boy. It scares me to know that the new generations of kids born in this era is no longer interested in playing in the dirt, catching frogs and picking flowers or even bother to look up to the stars. Give them an iPad or a tablet and they will be satisfied. Of course these parents who work tirelessly chasing these made up currency of money that holds no value outside the human society will chose the easier option. But we cannot forget the importance of an early child’s mind to explore his curiosity of his natural surroundings. Nowadays parents are too afraid of letting their children roam around by themselves and I can’t blame them, the city is filled with paedophiles rapist and kidnappers. But then again why are there such individuals? We can’t just blame the immigrants because around 80% of the criminal statistics are local citizens. Maybe it is the lack of education but ask yourself what is the point of education? To get good results so you can go to a good college or university so that you will graduate and get a good job? It looks like there is only one culprit that we can really blame for our corrupted system, Money.

What is Money? It is just a piece of paper that symbolizes the amount of energy in your short precious limited time of existence that you have traded in for paper in order for you to continue living in this system. If you like your job then perhaps it is worth it but 90% of the working human population on earth hates their job. So you trade in hours, days, weeks and months of your life in which you will never get back doing things you hate for imaginary currency to continue doing things you hate. No wonder the world is in such a negative vibe. And to comfort yourself from wasting your non-refundable time, you buy materials of an illusionary status with your illusionary values of currency to satisfy the needs to be happy because you were told that success in life in when you are rich enough to buy anything you want. And even the choicest of materials that you chose to purchase is pre-programmed by countless Medias, social influence and the pressure of conformity. The human desire to be accepted by the fellow peers is overwhelming that many fail to take the time to think twice on these actions.

Somehow somewhere in our human history we have created and accepted the illusion of status. The rich are successful and powerful and thus they magically earn the respect of everyone else. You were told from the so called ‘Education System’, that you are nobody until you reach some sort of a respectable status in the society. That is why you must study hard so that you can reach that Dream of success. This is not an education, it is a brainwashing method which teaches you only the skills that you need to become a working gear in the grand money making machine. The schools are nothing more than factories that crush your will to question your reality and makes you think that the only escape from a bad life is by being filthy rich. Many young adults after just a few years of graduating high school can’t remember much of the stuff they learnt.

It is sad to see the wonderful history of mankind written in such a boring format that makes you careless of the past, the beauty of science and mathematics taught in such a dull bombardment of facts in which no growing child or teenager can relate to or ever bother to understand. The school is just a place where social skills are being formed to understand the structure of society and make the kids ignorant to the beautiful vast of knowledge that took human’s centuries of trial and errors to just get it right. All that these students see is plain facts to memorize in order to pass a biasly structure examinations in order for you to get an A, which is just another imaginary value of achievements.

True education is meant to fulfil the curiosity of a youth minds and equip them with the necessary knowledge to further explore the fields of their interest without any regards to whether it could make a lot of money or not. A child should not worry about social structures.

Yet the human population are endlessly put on this conveyer belt of a socialistic idea where we would chase the imaginary certificate of achievements from a well established institution in order to gain a better status in life. But what about those who fail this system, those drop outs and outcast without any other skills that is useful to the economic systems? How will they survive? Only in the fields of illegal occupations will they find acceptance. The system creates criminals in order to justify their actions of policing the society.

This is nothing new, we had been talking about these flaws of the systems for a very long time but yet nothing much has changed. Go to school, get a Job, Climb the hierarchy of social class, Buy expensive things to show your status, Get Married, Build a Family and Repeat the process. Now say after me, we are free. Maybe we are all too comfortable being in this fucked up established system but I hate it here. I live in this city and I can’t find my way out. Maybe that the reason why I’m writing this article which has no topic but rather an endless ramblings, it perhaps the best I can do for now with my deadline long overdue. It is a mere introduction to a bunch of writings in which meant to justify my existence and my refusal to exist in your society.

Carl Sagan once invited us to ask the question, ‘If we were visited by another superior species from a different part of the galaxy and we were forced to explain to them the stewardship of our planet and not to mention the state of human affairs today. Would we be proud of what we describe?’ How do we explain this system of governance that is widely accepted as broken and corrupted but yet little is done to change the predicament? Maybe our human culture is really in decline as noted by Peter Joseph, or maybe we just need to let someone with an idealistic utopia such as Jacques Fresco take charge of things. It is in my interest to pursue these topic in greater details with creditable sources and imaginative solutions in my future article. This is Mr. Nobody, an agent and a victim of a culture in decline.

Russell Brand on revolution: “We no longer have the luxury of tradition”

2013-11-11T02:45:00.003+08:00

Russell Brand on revolution: “We no longer have the luxury of tradition”

But before we change the world, we need to change the way we think.

BY RUSSELL BRAND PUBLISHED 24 OCTOBER 2013 8:58

Russell Brand asks: "Is utopian revolution possible?" Photo: Reuters/Cathal McNaughton

When I was asked to edit an issue of the New Statesman I said yes because it was a beautiful woman asking me. I chose the subject of revolution because the New Statesman is a political magazine and imagining the overthrow of the current political system is the only way I can be enthused about politics.

When people talk about politics within the existing Westminster framework I feel a dull thud in my stomach and my eyes involuntarily glaze. Like when I’m conversing and the subject changes from me and moves on to another topic. I try to remain engaged but behind my eyes I am adrift in immediate nostalgia; “How happy I was earlier in this chat,” I instantly think.

I have never voted. Like most people I am utterly disenchanted by politics. Like most people I regard politicians as frauds and liars and the current political system as nothing more than a bureaucratic means for furthering the augmentation and advantages of economic elites. Billy Connolly said: “Don’t vote, it encourages them,” and, “The desire to be a politician should bar you for life from ever being one.”

I don’t vote because to me it seems like a tacit act of compliance; I know, I know my grandparents fought in two world wars (and one World Cup) so that I’d have the right to vote. Well, they were conned. As far as I’m concerned there is nothing to vote for. I feel it is a far more potent political act to completely renounce the current paradigm than to participate in even the most trivial and tokenistic manner, by obediently X-ing a little box.

Total revolution of consciousness and our entire social, political and economic system is what interests me, but that’s not on the ballot. Is utopian revolution possible? The freethinking social architect Buckminster Fuller said humanity now faces a choice: oblivion or utopia. We’re inertly ambling towards oblivion, is utopia really an option?

I heard recently Oliver Cromwell’s address to the rump parliament in 1653 (online, I’m not a Time Lord) where he bawls out the whole of the House of Commons as “whores, virtueless horses and money-grabbing dicklickers”. I added the last one but, honestly, that is the vibe. I was getting close to admiring old Oliver for his “calls it as he sees it, balls-out” rhetoric till I read about him on Wikipedia and learned that beyond this brilliant 8 Mile-style takedown of corrupt politicians he was a right arsehole; starving and murdering the Irish and generally (and surprisingly for a Roundhead) being a total square. The fact remains that if you were to recite his speech in parliament today you’d be hard pushed to find someone who could be legitimately offended.

I don’t want to get all “Call me Dave, I was chatting to my plumber, man of the people” here, but the fact is I’m a recovering junkie so that means I have to hang out with a lot of other junkies to keep my head together, some of whom are clean, others who are using. Hear you this, regular New Statesman reader, browsing with irritation that the culture of celebrity has just banjoed the arse of another sacred cow and a Halloween-haired, Sachsgate-enacting, estuary-whining, glitter-lacquered, priapic berk has been undeservedly hoisted upon another cultural plinth, but – young people, poor people, not-rich people, most people do not give a fuck about politics.

They see no difference between Cameron, Clegg, Boris, either of the Milibands or anyone else. To them these names are as obsolete as Lord Palmerston or Denis Healey. The London riots in 2011, which were condemned as nihilistic and materialistic by Boris and Cameron (when they eventually returned from their holidays), were by that very definition political. These young people have been accidentally marketed to their whole lives without the economic means to participate in the carnival. After some draconian sentences were issued, measures that the white-collar criminals who capsized our economy with their greed a few years earlier avoided, and not one hoodie was hugged, the compliance resumed. Apathy reigned.

There’s little point bemoaning this apathy. Apathy is a rational reaction to a system that no longer represents, hears or addresses the vast majority of people. A system that is apathetic, in fact, to the needs of the people it was designed to serve. To me a potent and triumphant leftist movement, aside from the glorious Occupy rumble, is a faint, idealistic whisper from sepia rebels. The formation of the NHS, holiday pay, sick pay, the weekend – achievements of peaceful trade union action were not achieved in the lifetime of the directionless London rioters. They are uninformed of the left’s great legacy as it is dismantled around them.

Of the two possible reactions to the mechanised indifference and inefficiency of their alleged servants, not leaders – apathy or rage – apathy is the more accessible and is certainly preferable to those who govern.

Righteous rage surfaces rarely only in the most galling of circumstances, the riots or the Milly Dowler intrusion, where a basic taboo was transgressed, then we reach beneath the stagnant quotidian to the omnipresent truth within. In this case “respect for the dead”, the motif upon which Sophocles’sAntigone is founded.

Along with the absolute, all-encompassing total corruption of our political agencies by big business, this apathy is the biggest obstacle to change. We can’t alter the former without removing the latter. Can this be achieved? Obviously this is a rhetorical question and without wanting to spunk the surprise ending the answer is yes.

First, though, I should qualify my right to even pontificate on such a topic and in so doing untangle another of revolution’s inherent problems. Hypocrisy. How dare I, from my velvet chaise longue, in my Hollywood home like Kubla Khan, drag my limbs from my harem to moan about the system? A system that has posited me on a lilo made of thighs in an ocean filled with honey and foie gras’d my Essex arse with undue praise and money.

I once, during the early steps of this thousand-mile journey to decadent somnambulance, found myself embroiled in a London riot. It was around the bafflement of the millennium and we were all uptight about zeroes lining up three wide and planes falling from the sky and the national mood was weird.

At this point I’d attended a few protests and I loved them. At a Liverpool dockers march, the chanting, the bristling, the rippedup paving stones and galloping police horses in Bono glasses flipped a switch in me. I felt connected, on a personal level I was excited by the chaos, a necessary component of transition, I like a bit of chaos however it’s delivered. The disruption of normalcy a vital step in any revolution. Even aesthetically, aside from the ideology, I beam at the spectacle of disruption, even when quite trivial. As a boy a bird in the house defecating on our concept of domesticity as much as our settee, a signal of the impermanence and illusory nature of our humdrum comforts. The riot in question came when I was working at MTV and for the first time in my life had money, which to me was little more than regal letters to be delivered to drug dealers.

My involvement in the riot came without invitation or intention, I was in fact oxymoronically shopping (emphasis on the moron) with a stylist in the West End, at the expense of MTV, which is perhaps the planet’s most obvious purveyor of neurodross and pop-cultural claptrap – like a glistening pink pony trotting through your mind shitting glitter.

I was smacked up and gacked up and togged up in the nitwit livery of late-Nineties television, a crackhead Harlequin with Hoxton hair, when it came to my attention that Reclaim the Streets had a march on. On learning this, I without a flicker of self-awareness palmed off my shopping bags jammed with consumer treats and headed for the throng. Just before the kettling and boredom, while things were still buzzing, bongos, bubbles and whistles, I was hurt when a fellow protester piously said to me: “What you doing here? I’ve seen you, you work for MTV.” I felt pretty embarrassed that my involvement was being questioned, in a manner that is all too common on the left. It’s been said that: “The right seeks converts and the left seeks traitors.” This moral superiority that is peculiar to the left is a great impediment to momentum. It is also a right drag when you’re trying to enjoy a riot.

Perhaps this is why there is currently no genuinely popular left-wing movement to counter Ukip, the EDL and the Tea Party; for an ideology that is defined by inclusiveness, socialism has become in practice quite exclusive. Plus a bit too serious, too much up its own fundament and not enough fun. The same could be said of the growing New Age spiritual movement, which could be a natural accompaniment to social progression. I’m a bit of a tree-hugging, Hindu-tattooed, veggie meditator myself but first and foremost I want to have a fucking laugh. When Ali G, who had joined protesters attempting to prevent a forest being felled to make way for a road, shouted across the barricade, “You may take our trees, but you’ll never take our freedom,” I identified more with Baron Cohen’s amoral trickster than the stern activist who aggressively admonished him: “This is serious, you cunt.”

A bit too fucking serious, actually. As John Cleese said, there is a tendency to confuse seriousness with solemnity. Serious causes can and must be approached with good humour, otherwise they’re boring and can’t compete with the Premier League and Grand Theft Auto. Social movements needn’t lack razzmatazz.

The right has all the advantages, just as the devil has all the best tunes. Conservatism appeals to our selfishness and fear, our desire and self-interest; they neatly nurture and then harvest the inherent and incubating individualism.

I imagine that neurologically the pathway travelled by a fearful or selfish impulse is more expedient and well travelled than the route of the altruistic pang. In simple terms of circuitry I suspect it is easier to connect these selfish inclinations.

This natural, neurological tendency has been overstimulated and acculturated. Materialism and individualism do in moderation make sense. If you are naked and starving and someone gives you soup and a blanket your happiness will increase. That doesn’t mean that if you have 10,000 silken blankets and a golden cauldron of soup made from white rhino cum your happiness will continue to proportionately increase until you’re gouched out, swathed in silk, gurgling up pearlescent froth.

Biomechanically we are individuals, clearly. On the most obvious frequency of our known sensorial reality we are independent anatomical units. So we must take care of ourselves. But with our individual survival ensured there is little satisfaction to be gained by enthroning and enshrining ourselves as individuals.

These problems that threaten to bring on global destruction are the result of legitimate human instincts gone awry, exploited by a dead ideology derived from dead desert myths. Fear and desire are the twin engines of human survival but with most of our basic needs met these instincts are being engaged to imprison us in an obsolete fragment of our consciousness. Our materialistic consumer culture relentlessly stimulates our desire. Our media ceaselessly engages our fear, our government triangulates and administrates, ensuring there are no obstacles to the agendas of these slow-thighed beasts, slouching towards Bethlehem.

For me the solution has to be primarily spiritual and secondarily political. This, too, is difficult terrain when the natural tribal leaders of the left are atheists, when Marxism is inveterately Godless. When the lumbering monotheistic faiths have given us millennia of grief for a handful of prayers and some sparkly rituals.

By spiritual I mean the acknowledgement that our connection to one another and the planet must be prioritised. Buckminster Fuller outlines what ought be our collective objectives succinctly: “to make the world work for 100 per cent of humanity in the shortest possible time through spontaneous co-operation without ecological offence or the disadvantage of anyone”. This maxim is the very essence of “easier said than done” as it implies the dismantling of our entire socio-economic machinery. By teatime.

Can this be achieved when we are enslaved by old ideologies, be they theological or economic? The absurdity of our localised consciousness and global ignorance hit me hard when I went on a Comic Relief trip to Kenya.

Like most of the superficially decent things I do in life, my motivation was to impress women more than to aid the suffering. “A couple of days in Africa,” I thought, “and a lifetime cashing in on pics of me with thin babies, speculate to accumulate,” I assured my anxious inner womaniser.

After visiting the slums of Kibera, where a city built from mud and run on fear festers on the suburbs of Nairobi, I was sufficiently schooled by Live Aid and Michael Buerk to maintain an emotional distance. It was only when our crew visited a nearby rubbish dump that the comforting buoyancy of visual clichés rinsed away by the deluge of a previously inconceivable reality. This rubbish dump was not like some tip off the M25 where you might dump a fridge freezer or a smashed-in mattress. This was a nation made of waste with no end in sight. Domestic waste, medical waste, industrial waste formed their own perverse geography. Stinking rivers sluiced through banks of putrid trash, mountains, valleys, peaks and troughs all formed from discarded filth. An ecology based on our indifference and ignorance in the “cradle of civilisation” where our species is said to have originated. Here amid the pestilence I saw Armageddon. Here the end of the world is not a prophecy but a condition. A demented herd chewed polystyrene cud. Sows fed their piglets in the bilge. Gloomy shadows split the sun as marabou storks, five foot in span with ragged labial throats, swooped down. My mate Nik said he had to revise his vision of hell to include what he’d seen.

Kibera in Kenya. Photo: Getty

Here and there, picking through this unending slander, children foraged for bottle tops, which had some value, where all is worthless.

For a while when I returned to my sanitised house and my sanitised state of mind I guiltily thumbed bottle tops for a moment before I disposed of them; temporarily they were like crucifixes for these kids, sacrificed that I may live in privilege. A few weeks later I was in Paris at a Givenchy fashion show where the most exquisite garments cantered by on underfed, well-bred clothes horses. The spectacle was immaculate, smoke-filled bubbles burst on to the runway. To be here in this gleaming sophistication was heaven. Here starvation is a tool to achieve the perfect perpendicular pelvis.

Now, I bow to no one in my appreciation of female beauty and fancy clobber but I could not wrench the phantom of those children from my mind, in this moment I felt the integration; that the price of this decadence was their degradation. That these are not dislocated ideas but the two extremes are absolutely interdependent. The price of privilege is poverty. David Cameron said in his conference speech that profit is “not a dirty word”. Profit is the most profane word we have. In its pursuit we have forgotten that while individual interests are being met, we as a whole are being annihilated. The reality, when not fragmented through the corrupting lens of elitism, is we are all on one planet.

To have such suffering adjacent to such excess is akin to marvelling at an incomparable beauty, whose face is the radiant epitome of celestial symmetry, and ignoring, half a yard lower down, her abdomen, cancerous, weeping and carbuncled. “Keep looking at the face, put a handbag over those tumours. Strike a pose. Come on, Vogue.”

Suffering of this magnitude affects us all. We have become prisoners of comfort in the absence of meaning. A people without a unifying myth. Joseph Campbell, the comparative mythologist, says our global problems are all due to the lack of relevant myths. That we are trying to sustain social cohesion using redundant ideologies devised for a population that lived in deserts millennia ago. What does it matter if 2,000 years ago Christ died on the cross and was resurrected if we are not constantly resurrected to the truth, anew, moment to moment? How is his transcendence relevant if we do not resurrect our consciousness from the deceased, moribund mind of our obsolete ideologies and align with our conditions?

The model of pre-Christian man has fulfilled its simian objectives. We have survived, we have created agriculture and cities. Now this version of man must be sacrificed that we can evolve beyond the reaches of the ape. These stories contain great clues to our survival when we release ourselves from literalism and superstition. What are ideologies other than a guide for life? Throughout paganism one finds stories that integrate our species with our environment to the benefit of both. The function and benefits of these belief matrixes have been lost, with good reason. They were socialist, egalitarian and integrated. If like the Celtic people we revered the rivers we would prioritise this sacred knowledge and curtail the attempts of any that sought to pollute the rivers. If like the Nordic people we believed the souls of our ancestors lived in the trees, this connection would make mass deforestation anathema. If like the native people of America we believed God was in the soil what would our intuitive response be to the implementation of fracking?

Little wonder then that these myths, these codes for our protection and survival, have been aborted and replaced with nihilistic narratives of individualism, peopled by sequin-covered vacuous heroes. Now we only riot and roar in hot summers or at football scores or when our dead are desecrated by the vile publications that convey this corrosive, corrupting, deceitful narrative.

I deplore corporate colonialism but not viscerally. The story isn’t presented in a way that rouses me. Apple seems like such an affable outfit; I like my iPhone. Occasionally I hear some yarn about tax avoidance or Chinese iPhone factory workers committing suicide because of dreadful working conditions but it doesn’t really bother me, it seems so abstract. Not in the same infuriating, visceral, immediate way that I get pissed off when I buy a new phone and they’ve changed the fucking chargers, then I want to get my old, perfectly good charger and lynch the executives with the cable. They make their own product, which they’ve already sold me, deliberately obsolete just to rinse a few more quid out of us.

But profit is not a dirty word. I hate big banks and banking and bankers but when they rip us off and do us down with derivatives and foreclosures and bundles, I roll my eyes. However when I see that I’m getting a £3.50 surcharge at a cash machine I want to put their fucking windows through. This is the selfish impulse the right expertly engages but ought to belong to the left. We have to see that all these things are connected. We have succumbed to an ideology that is 100 per cent corrupt and must be overthrown. The maintenance of this system depends on our belief that “there’s nothing we can do”; well, the government seemed pretty shook up during those riots. They snapped out of their Tuscan complacency quick enough then, and that was for a few pissed-off kids.

Those kids weren’t apathetic either. They felt impotent because they are given no status, structure or space. Perhaps in a system where legitimate, peaceful protest was heard that may have been an appropriate option for them, but Stop the War marches don’t stop wars, at the top of the pyramid larceny is rewarded with big bonuses. They may have been misdirected but they certainly had some vim. How beautiful it would be to see their passion utilised and directed at the source of their grievances.

The system is adept at turning our aggression on to one another. We condemn the rioters. The EDL condemns immigrants. My new rule for when I fancy doing a bit of the ol’ condemnation is: “Do the people I’m condemning have any actual power?” The immigrant capacity to cause social negativity is pretty slender. Especially if you live in luxury in Hollywood and the only immigrants you meet are Gabby, my Mexican second mother, and Polo who looks after the garden. It probably seems more serious if you’re in a council flat in Tower Hamlets. Still the fact remains that an immigrant is just someone who used to be somewhere else. Free movement of global capital will necessitate the free movement of an affordable labour force to meet the demands that the free-moving capital has created. The wrath is directed to the symptom, not the problem.

We British seem to be a bit embarrassed about revolution, like the passion is uncouth or that some tea might get spilled on our cuffs in the uprising. That revolution is a bit French or worse still American. Well, the alternative is extinction so now might be a good time to re-evaluate. The apathy is in fact a transmission problem, when we are given the correct information in an engaging fashion, we will stir.

The hypocrisy – me, working for MTV with my fancy shoes – is a problem that can be taken care of incrementally. I don’t mind giving up some of my baubles and balderdash for a genuinely fair system, so can we create one? We have to be inclusive of everyone, to recognise our similarities are more important than our differences and that we have an immediate ecological imperative. This is not a job I’d place in the hot, clammy, grasping palms of Cameron and Osborne. I shook George Osborne’s hand once, by accident, it was like sliding my hand into a dilated cow.

We require a change that is beyond the narrow, prescriptive parameters of the current debate, outside the fortress of our current system. A system predicated on aspects of our nature that are dangerous when systemic: greed, selfishness and fear. These are old, dead ideas. That’s why their business is conducted in archaic venues. Antiquated, elegant edifices, lined with oak and leather. We no longer have the luxury of tradition.

Cameron, Osborne, Boris, all of them lot, they went to the same schools and the same universities that have the same decor as the old buildings from which they now govern us. It’s not that they’re malevolent; it’s just that they’re irrelevant. Relics of an old notion, like Old Spice: it’s fine that it exists but no one should actually use it.

We are still led by blithering chimps, in razor-sharp suits, with razor-sharp lines, pimped and crimped by spin doctors and speech-writers. Well-groomed ape-men, superficially altered by post-Clintonian trends.

We are mammals on a planet, who now face a struggle for survival if our species is to avoid expiry. We can’t be led by people who have never struggled, who are a dusty oak-brown echo of a system dreamed up by Whigs and old Dutch racists.

We now must live in reality, inner and outer. Consciousness itself must change. My optimism comes entirely from the knowledge that this total social shift is actually the shared responsibility of six billion individuals who ultimately have the same interests. Self-preservation and the survival of the planet. This is a better idea than the sustenance of an elite. The Indian teacher Yogananda said: “It doesn’t matter if a cave has been in darkness for 10,000 years or half an hour, once you light a match it is illuminated.” Like a tanker way off course due to an imperceptible navigational error at the offset we need only alter our inner longitude.

Capitalism is not real; it is an idea. America is not real; it is an idea that someone had ages ago. Britain, Christianity, Islam, karate, Wednesdays are all just ideas that we choose to believe in and very nice ideas they are, too, when they serve a purpose. These concepts, though, cannot be served to the detriment of actual reality.

The reality is we have a spherical ecosystem, suspended in, as far as we know, infinite space upon which there are billions of carbon-based life forms, of which we presume ourselves to be the most important, and a limited amount of resources.

The only systems we can afford to employ are those that rationally serve the planet first, then all humanity. Not out of some woolly, bullshit tree-hugging piffle but because we live on it, currently without alternatives. This is why I believe we need a unifying and in - clusive spiritual ideology: atheism and materialism atomise us and anchor us to one frequency of consciousness and inhibit necessary co-operation.

In 2013 (another made-up imaginary concept) we cannot afford to giggle, drivel and burp like giant, pube-covered babies about quaint, old-fashioned notions like nation, capitalism and consumerism simply because it’s convenient for the tiny, greedy, myopic sliver of the population that those outmoded ideas serve. I will never vote because, as Billy said, “It encourages them.” I did a job with Billy Connolly and Eddie Izzard not long ago and the three of us shared a dressing room. Eddie believes in democracy and spoke sincerely of his political ambitions. “One day I’d like to be a politician . . .” he said. I spoke of my belief that change could only come from within. “I’d like to be a spiritual orator . . .” I said grandly.

Billy eyed us both, with kindly disapprobation. “I’d like to be a nuisance,” he said. “I want to be a troublemaker, there in the gallery in parliament shouting RUBBISH and PROVE IT.” Who am I to argue with The Great Trickster Connolly? I will never vote and I don’t think you should, either.

To genuinely make a difference, we must become different; make the tiny, longitudinal shift. Meditate, direct our love indiscriminately and our condemnation exclusively at those with power. Revolt in whatever way we want, with the spontaneity of the London rioters, with the certainty and willingness to die of religious fundamentalists or with the twinkling mischief of the trickster. We should include everyone, judging no one, without harming anyone. The Agricultural Revolution took thousands of years, the Industrial Revolution took hundreds of years, the Technological Revolution took tens, the Spiritual Revolution has come and we have only an instant to act.

Now there is an opportunity for the left to return to its vital, virile, vigorous origins. A movement for the people, by the people, in the service of the land. Socialism’s historical connection with spiritual principles is deep. Sharing is a spiritual principle, respecting our land is a spiritual principle. May the first, May Day, is a pagan holiday where we acknowledge our essential relationship with our land. I bet the Tolpuddle martyrs, who marched for fair pay for agricultural workers, whose legacy is the right for us to have social solidarity, were a right bunch of herberts if you knew them. “Thugs, yobs, hooligans,” the Daily Mail would’ve called them. Our young people need to know there is a culture, a strong, broad union, that they can belong to, that is potent, virile and alive. At this time when George and Dave pilfer and pillage our land and money for their oligarch mates, at this time when the Tories are taking the EU to court to stop it curtailing their banker pals’ bonuses, that there is something they can do. Take to the streets, together, with the understanding that the feeling that you aren’t being heard or seen or represented isn’t psychosis; it’s government policy.

But we are far from apathetic, we are far from impotent. I take great courage from the groaning effort required to keep us down, the institutions that have to be fastidiously kept in place to maintain this duplicitous order. Propaganda, police, media, lies. Now is the time to continue the great legacy of the left, in harmony with its implicit spiritual principles. Time may only be a human concept and therefore ultimately unreal, but what is irrefutably real is that this is the time for us to wake up.

The revolution of consciousness is a decision, decisions take a moment. In my mind the revolution has already begun.

Find Russell on Twitter: @rustyrockets. To subscribe to the New Statesman,click here. Watch Russell introducing the contents of the rest of his issue:

Minut Init : Art Social

2013-11-05T14:51:00.001+08:00

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 5, 2013

Art Social

Recap of what went down over the weekend at the gallery.To start things off a post halloween get together(Thanks Angelina), Bryan's 30th,& to end it it's light camera action. Thanks to all involved & hoping for more.

Poet's Passport Supernatural

2013-10-10T08:25:00.001+08:00

Poet's Passport Supernatural

More Supernatural:
http://the23rdlife.blogspot.com/2013/10/poets-passport-supernatural.html

Poet's Passport ; Supernatural

2013-10-07T17:05:00.002+08:00

MONDAY, OCTOBER 7, 2013

Poet's Passport ; Supernatural

Unfinished work , entitled Chopsticks and Bill Hicks by James Ly

Minut Init : Throwback Thursday : Our First Exhibition

2013-10-03T10:30:00.000+08:00

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 3, 2013

Throwback Thursday : Our First Exhibition

Let take a walk back down memory lane and see where Minut Init Studio Galleria first started by looking at the pictures of our very first open-themed exhibition.

MINUT INIT : POET'S PASSPORT - SUPERNATURAL

2013-10-01T20:16:00.001+08:00

Minut Init Studio Galleria is hosting Poet's Passport' poetry reading on the theme "Supernatural" this friday 9pm.

The Omnibus Fragmentary Imagination Of an Anonymous DREAMER

A Conversation with Cleverbot

User: Hi there.

User: What is a cleverbot?

User: A conciousness.

Russell Brand : What monkeys and the Queen taught me about inequality

What monkeys and the Queen taught me about inequality

Enter our competition

GOD WAS A STORY TELLER

Mr Nobody – God Was A Story Teller

From Concrete to Jungle

Mr. Nobody's The Skanking Patois of an Electric Cosmic Hobo

Do Mankind Dream of a Cyberpunk Reality

Septuaginta

The Roots of Racism in Malaysia

Minut Init : The Long Winter

JAMES LY KARA INEZ OTHER STUFF JULLEY : A PHOTO EXHIBITION

The Psychedelics Transcendence of The Singularity

Quantum Psychedelic : Memories and Conciousness

The Lonely Heart

The Rebirth of Hip Hop

GAVLYN

KLASSY

BLEEZIE

About

Basic info

Contact info

Miss Char

POETIC DEATH a.k.a VON POE VII

PHORA

Dub FX & Stamina MC 'Only Human' Lyrics

'Only Human'

The Untold Story of the very first Story Teller

The Devil & The Angel

THE DEVIL :

THE ANGEL :

I’m an Atheist, no I don’t worship the Devil but he is my drinking buddy

Second Hand Stories : The Lady Cleaner

Garathoa : A short tale of undefined Dream

I Hate It Here in This Brave New World

Russell Brand on revolution: “We no longer have the luxury of tradition”

Russell Brand on revolution: “We no longer have the luxury of tradition”

But before we change the world, we need to change the way we think.

Minut Init : Art Social

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 5, 2013

Art Social

Poet's Passport Supernatural

Poet's Passport Supernatural

Poet's Passport ; Supernatural

MONDAY, OCTOBER 7, 2013

Poet's Passport ; Supernatural

Minut Init : Throwback Thursday : Our First Exhibition

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 3, 2013

Throwback Thursday : Our First Exhibition

MINUT INIT : POET'S PASSPORT - SUPERNATURAL

JAMES LY

KARA INEZ

OTHER STUFF

JULLEY : A PHOTO EXHIBITION