Geekology

Geekology


Up to snuff on the canon
ever since the series' inception.

Watched a trio of films fashioned after
the literary trilogy, three times, in 3D
(but read every book years before cinematic debut).

Fanboy fawning over fiction
avidly awaits memorabilia and merchandise;
cultural baubles induce idolatrous fascination.

Raised by the capital
as another man-child filled with yearning
for a time that never was in fantasy lands.

"Did you see the new trailer?"
"OMG — its looks amazing!"
"Let's all go watch it on opening night..."

Real life is too boring anyway:
its bland narrative has become predictable.
Around here, there are no superheroes to save the day!

Satirical Infographic courtesy of Dorkly.

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Counter-Culture Failure

"And as this fake world grew, all of us went along with it, because the simplicity was reassuring. Even those who thought they were attacking the system — the radicals, the artists, the musicians, and our whole counterculture — actually became part of the trickery. Because they too had retreated into the make-believe world, which is why their opposition has no effect and nothing ever changes."

~ Adam Curtis; prologue to HyperNormalisation

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Counter-Culture Failure

Artists have become complicit with the spectacular aspects of commodification. All talents are now coopted in service to capitalistic enterprise.

Fatalistic as it may sound, there isn't any chance for an effective revolution to overthrow this system ... Its roots reach too deep into the collective unconscious.

Inertial tendencies have been inculcated in us since infancy. Everybody's parents and even grandparents were ensnared long before our arrival.

The nature of the beast is such that it has already assimilated any resistance to its preponderance well beforehand.

Dissenting voices find themselves drowning among a cacophony of competing choruses. Yet national anthems still define the terms of engagement.

Fine art is presently naught but skillful seduction; a well-polished reflector obfuscated by wispy vapor.

Its finest offerings adorn the towering edifice of traditionalist establishment. Hollywood holds sway over the untrained mind.

Glamour and glitter bedazzle beholders more than Huxley's 'Moksha-Medicine'. Banality brings spectators together, while larger than life superstars subvert their individuality.

Such impressionable peons get ground under industrial gears set in motion to demolish public doubts:

"Keep your faith in wealthy figureheads, because they must surely know what's best for society's collective investiture!"

Related Readings:

Geekology

Spectre of The Spectacle

Infamous

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Gruß Vom Krampus!

Gruß Vom Krampus!


Jolly old Saint Nicholas?
An outdated yuletide hymn —

With more naughty brats than e'er
This season's ripe for him ...

Christ-Mass eve approaches;
Come now feared old goat,

Quit flipping those channels
(Give up that darn remote).

It's all commercials anyhow
After the clock strikes twelve:

Advertising crap to wrap
Like woeful workshop elves.

So stuff these stockings full of coal;
Bad boys and girls beware —

He'll spank you with birch branches
Or box your ears mid-air!

Johnny wants an iPod touch,
Susy's dreaming of VR.

Nellie thinks a 'Selfie Mic'
Will make her a big star.

As for us with half a brain
We still need to smarten ...

Send out our reminder
Via vintage Krampuskarten!

Image: And the Children Shall Inherit the Earth (Krampus) by Chris Buzelli.

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Pot-Boiler

Potboiler (noun): a mediocre work of literature or art produced merely for financial gain.

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Pot-Boiler

Number NONE on the New York Times Bestseller List!

Featuring lilliputian lingo fit for limited engagements

But that's not all —

Order now and we'll throw in some acid-leaking batteries

Completely free of charge.

Anyway, what's most important is for low brow content

To become so commonplace that not a soul complains.

Such pandering will surely increase our market share

And please the Board of Infesters.

We stand at the verge of a Bravo Nouveau Weltanschauung!

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Le Dao De Zing [part one]

Le Dao De Zing


- I -

The Dow that can be bought, is not the Eternal Dao!
Any name that can be sold, is not an Eternal name —

Nameless be the origin of both Heaven and Hell.
Named lies this creation of our unconscious conception.

If one remains constant and detaches desire
Then permeable essence is seen.

Elsewise, ridden with cravings
Only appearances are apprehended.

Yet essence and appearance are two aspects
Of a single interwoven movement;
Immanent metamorphic matter!


- II -

When people come to know Fame, infamy arises.
Once one encounters richness, impoverishment begins.
Thus do credit and debt beget one another.
Struggle and leisure bring each other about.
Many losers reveal a few winners;
Sun Kings are defined by disservice to serfs.
Music and money make a cozy comb of honey.
The foremost stand astride the aftmost.
Therefore do sages say:

Assume thee Magistery of Mindfulness.
Conduct the defusing of meanings.
Play whatever cards were dealt
But take great care counting decks.
Acquire, do not own.
Accumulate without expectation.
Consume yet seek no consummation.
Those who Grok this won't dwell on it.
Besides, selfless Samadhi grants relief from tension —

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Radio Is The Enemy

Radio Is The Enemy


Although they may have once served a proper purpose
At present radio stations pander to popular opinion.
Singles are given airtime mainly to generate album sales.
Repeated ad nauseam at regularly timed intervals
An earworm can bore its way into anybody's brain.

If music were fruit, most listeners would never savor its core.
Instead they get stuck mulling over pulp and an alluring outer peel.
Not to mention abrasive ads that BLARE for our attention.
They've got it down pat to a covert science of coercion.
Flashy exteriors matched by nonexistent interiors.

Of course it'll have to do for critically impaired cubicle rats
Whom waste their days away like lowliest ants in a colony.
What was good for the gander will be repeated indefinitely at all hours
Until it becomes like Beethoven's 9th in A Clockwork Orange.
What is awful shall receive the star treatment too; no less!

Meanwhile, entire continents of choral gaiety go undiscovered.
Wonderful harmonies pipe up momentarily before drowning
Within a social milieu brought about via mean mediocrity.
Financial backing makes or breaks sound waves years before each freshly packaged frequency reaches our ears.
Even "Indie" gets co-opted as a niche market to generate profit.

In a roundabout way the arbiters of good taste ensure that radio effectively becomes ever more an enemy of the very music it pretends to promote!

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Yucky Yuppy

Author's Note: For some context regarding this piece, please refer to this > ARTICLE.

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Yucky Yuppy


The age of the Hipster is officially over
Enter the era of the "Yuccie"
(Young Urban Creative)

Coasting off parental payments
Education exceeds intellect
A diploma equals entitlement

Little respect for predecessors
Qualitative labeling for all
Recapitulation due to oversight

Beatnik and Hippy rolled into one
With inauthentic pretentiousness
Even irony gets lost in the shuffle

Every damn dolt is now an artiste
There is perhaps no greater tragedy
Than meaning subverted by money

Anything to make a quick buck
Nothing is sacred that can be sold
The world's an oyster laid barren

Ah hell, take that selfie for Instagram
Watch another rerun of Seinfeld
Getting over oneself is no mere career move!

Image: Portlandia poster for "This is an art project" episode.

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Found Poetry: Notes To Self At Work

Notes To Self At Work

The trick is to appear occupied
no matter how little there actually is to do.
Mind-numbing tasks lend themselves well to auto-pilot
but there are those times when one has to idle
while simultaneously seeming busy ...

Slacking really is harder as some say;
it's what many companies deserve for how little they pay.
The Peter Principle runs rampant, in one or another way.

So let's play at work

Let's work at play

Such arts are lost

This age and day

Don't dither-dabble

Nor trail the rabble

Cut cork and cost

Scribble with scrabble

Rude ranting riddle

Brooks down our middle

Pick up a fiddle

It's time to diddle!

In all seriousness, true human esprit requires much more than these material means.

Adversity plus dire risk

have ever driven men and women toward fulfillment, success, and victory.

Blood simmers due to circumstance, although it was once kindled through passion.

Soul seethes within this body biting on its own tongue
(a fiery bird may soon rise ashen).
Only the most desperately lost follow after another's fashion!

Ending Senryu:

An anthill swarming

With manic activity;

Looking glass glistens.

Box factory blues

Methodical madness rules;

Bosses be wanton.

Corporate hive buzz

Until close of business day.

Money makes people.

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Bah, Humbug! (An Xmas Anti-Poem)

Author's Note: For information on the Pagan roots of Christmas, this brief but insightful article is recommended: The Shamanic Origins of Christmas.

Or, for a more in-depth and very eye-opening look, this documentary spells it out perfectly: The Pharmacratic Inquisition.

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Bah, Humbug! (An Xmas Anti-Poem)

Hum·bug (noun):
1. Something intended to delude or deceive.
2. The quality of falseness or deception.
3. A person who is not what he or she claims or pretends to be; an impostor.
4. Something devoid of sense or meaning; nonsense: a humbug of technical jargon.

- I -

You see, Santa's just another version of the man in the sky;

A magical equation on which they bank for us to buy.

Despite crisis and recession — let childhood desires fly!

Long-standing tradition isn't something we question, why?

- II -

Because the unthinking parent offering their offspring to that secular idol at the mall isn't really doing it for the youngster (who'd be better off given proper guidance) BUT to satisfy their own inner child.

They repeat a cycle of indoctrination into Capitalist customs: Preparing another generation of consumers for dwindling resources (which could run out before we realize it).

- III -

Keep going, it's fine

This world has always been thus

Overbrimming with stupidity

Without shortage of cupidity

Keep towing party line

Present is blessed as future cussed

The dead are unaccountable

For their Humbug, insurmountable!

Image: The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come ...

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