haiku 6 Jan 2019

One with few vices

Is thought to have few virtues.

A saying says so

[ americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan ]

dreamstate writing 14 Dec 2017

I was in a throng of other people all queueing for to meet a powerful goddess. Beyond the sunken earthen trench in which we stood waiting lay snow on frozen ground. Set into the walls of the trench every few meters were crude cubbyholes fashioned out of unfinished pine logs, some of which I recognized as places I’ve slept rough. To our right and stretching above us reached a tall building clad in dark marble panels. As we stepped forward to be received we passed by a number of glass-doored rooms recently emptied of their inhabitants.

When it was finally my turn to be judged, the goddess swirled around me, prodding at my various bits and weighing my soul against Truth. From her back and the top of her head appeared to rise glimmering tendrils of an infinite, invisible energy. In the room with us were dozens of watching people, the formerly queueing multitudes. The goddess noted my progress in many areas, challenging me to defend my case to become bodhisattva. I pointed out the steps I’ve made toward living a life of virtue and compassion but was found lacking, and shown the door.

I returned briefly to consciousness (discovering there a full and pressing bladder), then fell back asleep. The dreaming continued in a vast subterranean room (which, too, was paneled with slabs of dark marble) where I and a number of others were searching for a propellered flying boat that had been lost at sea. Analyzing satellite photographs and old maps we were scouring the wind-swept seas. From time to time I would also put my ear to a staticky handheld radio, hoping to detect a clue. Out of the white noise lept a single word, one which caused excitement yet confusion among the dozen-odd people individuals there: America.

[ americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan ] ​

supplementary info from abcmouse.com!

Parents! Are your kids still sitting around in front of that other flat-screen monitor watching poisonous and boring programming? Is their health in decline, and do they show signs of extreme boredom? Are you looking for a way to keep them tethered to their tiny, imported, colorful plastic chairs, and glued to the Flickering Idiot Box of Self-Enslavement? We at abcmouse.com know that America's parents are looking for ways to further destroy their children's health and latent creativity; we also know just how counter fucking productive it is to encourage children to physically exit the home and to play outside in rapist-infested, germ-laden, terror-inspiring community parks.

To make sure your kid falls behind in school, that she develops early-on diseases such as diabetes, obesity, and social anxiety disorder, and that she leads a generally depressing and unsatisfying life, we at abcmouse.com have developed a suite of Internet-based games that will guide your child's bursting mind back into the browbeaten channels of rigid conformity so sought for by today's pre- and elementary school recruiters. You will marvel at your son's stunted and incomplete problem-solving skills, and his airy and dismissive manner will make you smile! You will cry out with joy upon seeing your daughter charge headlong into a storied career as the local checkout-girl (once, of course, she obtains her GED following the birth of her fourth child by three different men).

If you are so incompetent as to switch to using our service, if you have given up trying to teach things to your child or to mold her into a virtuous and self-sufficient individual to the extent that you cannot see through our crude lie, then you shall surely not understand that switching from one screen to the next makes no difference at all, and that diverting your kid's attention from the television to our website is lost and wasted effort. So come on by, parents of America, and rot your kids' brains at our site, not at the site of some “different” company.

場黑麥 ioanni elymucampus fecit

encylopediamericanifesto - phaltworthiness

  The street art vagabond has sworn to preserve for Posterity the diversity of graffiti – it is her duty to capture, isolate, and upload photographs of any urban artwork she locates by bicycling or walking or skating around a city. Looking, however, does not always slake her thirst: in order to perpetuate the phenomenon of artwork that seems to appear suddenly on previously unadorned urban surfaces, and to prove her passage through the area, she leaves her unique mark, a hand-drawn image that serves as her Glyph of Personal Identification, her own meager tribute to the maddeningly prolific beautification campaign known as street art (or, alternately, as vandalism).

  The urban artist spends resources such as time and money on his efforts to fill the urban environment's many empty spaces with colorful and bizarre pictures; for his troubles he is hounded by police and harassed by them likewise. In addition to such acts of state-mandated repression, he suffers from repeated and chronic bouts of a newly classified condition known as phaltweariness (the individual suffering from this condition will commit frequent acts of frugality and self-sacrifice; his actions will reek of virtuous behavior; he will act not out of a desire to prove himself to another person, or to claim for himself glory, but because the majesty of the human spirit has rewarded his sacrifice of time and self by filling him with a transcendent vigor not seen since the dawn of humankind).

  No grasp as fleeting as that of Big Brother might contain, however, the inexorable and all-nullifying tempest that is Virtuous Action. The street art vagabond therefore who hurls without ado the bounty of her artistic labor upon the phaltscape's expectant canvasses while showcasing freely upon w³  her fellow street artists' work (where it shall be judged and ignored until all servers crash at once), she who does these things simply because they need doing, she who refuses to claim ownership over any part of the process, that street artist is phaltworthy – she acts for the good of the world by leaving well enough alone.

  Spes Mea In Ratio Est - 場黑麥 John Paul Roggenkamp

on gods we praise

  Sarah Palin recently made reference to the Statue of Liberty (see here). By doing so, Ms. Palin has given her tacit support to the notion of the goddess Liberty, a deity from times of old whom the American people have adopted fully. Fair and gracious Liberty is not the only deity whom we praise, however – the goddess of Justice, or Iusticia, graces our city seals (see the seal of the borough of Hanover, PA), and we etch her likeness into the stonework of our highest halls of justice (see here). Every time you wear running shoes with a certain swoosh on them, you are praising the Greek goddess of victory, Nike. Our connection to ancient gods runs so deep in this country that even our Declaration of Independence makes the right to Happiness unalienable, a right as often as not personified by goddess Felicitas (or Tyche), the goddess of joy and good fortune.

  To utter the name of a god is to give that god power in our minds and in our lives, such as in Jewish rituals, and in Muslim rituals. For example, every time we say the word Wednesday, we pay homage to the god (Wotan, deity of wisdom and poetry) for whom the day was named; on Thursday and Saturday we pay homage to Thor and Saturn (the gods of fertility and of the harvest respectively), deities hailing from separate realms and distant times, gods who still inspire us today.

  It is good to have as many gods as you can have on your side, so while you may go to a place of worship and pray to one god, remember that throughout your day you are also sending up praises to the other gods who shelter you under their wings (though you might not realize that you are praising them with your shoes or words, or even that they are sheltering you). Similar to the concept of polyamory (the capacity to be in love with multiple people), the capacity to love and worship many different gods is called polytheism. For an example of polytheism, see the practices of Roman Catholics, who pray to one god when traveling (Christopherus), to a different god when competing athletically (Sebastian), and to a third deity (Gabriel) when working in the postal trades.

  There is no limit to the number of gods you can have working for you, or looking out for you, just as there is no limit to the amount of goodness and virtuous action you can perform during your life. Maximize your coverage by increasing your spectrum of gods – you are sure to like the results.

Spes Mea In Ratio Est - 場黑麥 John Paul Roggenkamp

laurel of godlike achievement

  The founders of America were influenced primarily by two religions: Christianity and Hellenistic polytheism (see here). Our halls of government are festooned with plaques referencing the Christian texts (see here); let those same halls ring with praises for the people of this land who most readily display the virtues of those gods whose spirit filled the minds of Thomas Jefferson and his ilk.

  In the Christian tradition, achievements made by non-Christians are often ignored, swept under by the praises sung to individuals who have sacrificed solely for the cause of that religion, individuals who labored for what is considered, according that religion, positive change. The ancient Greeks, however, were not so partial to positivity – indeed, they preferred waiting to see how the chips would fall to the judging of actions based solely on how they helped to expand the scope of a particular religion.

  In the ancient Greek world, men who in battle displayed the guile, the strategic mind, the cunning, of goddess Athena were said to be the embodiment of that god, to be filled with her spirit. Great fashion designers were hailed as exhibiting the virtues of Arachne, the goddess of the seamstress, while skilled orators were said to be filled with the essence of Hermes, the god of public speaking.
  I hereby propose the creation of a group to determine, via a thorough and national vetting process, those Americans who in our times are most filled with the spirit of the Greek gods that so vastly influenced the founders of this nation.

  Great generals will receive the Laurel of the Owl and Shield for displaying heroic endeavor and cunning battle strategy, characteristics of goddess Athena.

  Great poets and authors will receive the Laurel of the Arrow and Lyre for displaying the poetry and truthfulness attributed to god Apollo.

  Great diplomats and merchants will receive the Laurel of the Winged Boot for exhibiting the diplomacy and cunning wiles attributed to god Hermes.

  Great societal disruptors and street artists will receive the Laurel of Helm and Spear for their civil disorder and manly courage, attributes they share with god Ares.

  Many other gods exist in the Olympian pantheon, and many more Laurels will be issued. The awards will be distributed in recognition of achievements that in any significant way affect the course of the nation, be they the actions of a spray-painting mad genius or the destruction of a Taliban outpost by special forces operatives dodging bullets in the torn landscape of Helmland province.

  The concept of the Laurel of Godlike American Achievement will celebrate people from all castes, all groups, all races, and all religions. It will allow the people to select from within their midst those individuals who exhibit the virtues we hold most dear, such as inventiveness, risk-taking, motherhood, and skateboarding where skateboarding is prohibited. It will whip the masses into a great churning froth of Happiness by giving them something to which to aspire, such as knowledge of the woodland arts (Artemis), metalworking and sculpture (Hephaestus), and the celebration of eternal youth (Dionysus), aspirations other than those based purely on the accumulation of capital or on the ability to repeat the same religious mantras for years on end.

  Your suggestions are welcome. Your readership is appreciated. Your hope springs eternal.

Ultima Ratio Regum - 場黑麥 John Paul Roggenkamp

the wages of trust

How is it possible to miss someone so much as I miss Eliza? If I do not get this constant yearning under control I will mess things up in some way, call her too much or text her too much or just plain miss her too much and make my life a constant state of torment. I must be an adult about this. I must pull myself together, concentrate on the task at hand, and trust in the fates to weave their skeins as they see fit. But I yearn so for her presence, for the soft simple words from her which I so long to hear, the words that will seal our futures into one. I cannot explain why I love her so fiercely, why I bound myself to her the night that I swore on my virtue to the Universe that I would never abandon her side. It was the right thing to do then, and it still makes sense to me now. I pledged my eternal allegiance to her that night, before the Great Unknown, and I must come to terms with the fact that said pledge was given without demand of recompense, that said pledge was given purely, from the deepest regions of my soul, amidst the purest blossoming of love and the under the banner of ardent sincerity.
By giving that pledge, I abandoned any sort of control. By presenting that pledge to her, I placed my life, my soul, in her hands. I entrusted to her my virtue, and now, in this trying time, in this moment of weakness, so far removed from her presence, my trust in her must be absolute. The future is just that, a dim possibility, the faintest, tiniest chance that all the effort and resolve, all the tears and torment will lead to happiness. My feelings for her are unequaled in my life. I have never met anyone as perfect as she is to me, her simmering humanity, her sharp wit, her twinkling smile, her cunning, her kindness, her fragile strength. If I should find myself without her, if my efforts have been in vain, I will live out my life in tragic discontentment, knowing always that the Perfect Woman chose another man over me.
I will not lay blame. I will not point fingers. My virtue will be intact until the day I draw my last breath. I will never abandon your side, Eliza. Under neither duress nor coercion will I lay aside my proclaimed duty toward you. My heart is in your hands. It has been broken before. It has been crushed many times. A spark burns within it, however, the spark of loyalty, of kinship, of trust. I put that spark there the night I made my pledge, and only the Eternal Tao can stamp it out.
Sleep well, my darling. JP