eaters and then

With eggs in its stomach and blood on its beak the little mosquito his weak-points did seek. It flew from the cover of a hanging shroud disguised in the plume of his recent vape-cloud and made not a sound that his ears could detect and to his sharp eye was but a tiny speck. He reached out and grabbed it with a sudden move and with that quick gesture his watchfulness proved to none but himself and to no one at all for he then took pity that death did befall. It was me or it and I want no disease, he said as he watched its weak twitching then cease and wiped its wee carcass from his greasy thumb concerned by the cruelty of what he'd just done. In this life there's eaters and then there are prey and only the lucky will see their next day and only the fortunate get to still strive though none of us living will get out alive.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

nothing but godliness

Give in to surrender, she told them at dawn, Retreat not an inch though 'til this battle's won. The enemies outside they cannot compare to those on the inside who from our eyes stare. The ego is massive if we give it power wherefore we just witness it each waking hour. Those foes in their trenches can huddle and wait until we here unmoving have accepted fate and cleared our vision of need want and woe – thereafter to meet them we will duly go. Therefore keep on breathing and settling down until all the coils and snares are unwound until human passion has melted away with nothing but godliness left in its place. With that she stopped talking and sat herself too as the foul artillery whistled anew as hands pounded hard at the doors to within as outside men bayed for the fight to begin. When their hearts were voided of fear want and hate they massed at the beams of their stout wooden gate and rushed sallied streamed forth in a crashing tide and fought 'til the last of their enemies died. With their homeland safe and their heart-spaces filled they buried the bodies of all who'd been killed and held a great funeral solemn and grave and marked the new mound with a large wooden stave. We vanquished not only an outside force here but also the ego and all that it fears, she said without passion or pride in her tone, Which makes this two battles that we have just won. Say prayers for the fallen make sacrifice too and carry these lessons in all that you do: take time to be empty of want honor pride and sally forth evermore filled with white light.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

upward to go

There is now a goddess who helps to unmask the pain and the suffering lodged in the past. We carry these burdens along with ourselves and place them on dusted and egoic shelves that sit in the head-space that keep coming back to make our bright daytimes quite sullen and black. Her name it is Gha-li she has many arms and quick is the wit of her powerful charms and from her do radiate rays from the spine that pierce destroy rebuild – each one in its time. A necklace of skulls drapes down to her waist her long tongue the tears of the righteous tastes her eyes see all things that we think feel and do she crushes then remakes us – we broken – anew. With thick awesome power she walks among us and none can escape her most far-reaching thrust that pieces the lies that we tell ourselves oft that keep us from soaring – we godlings – aloft. Invoke her when on a new path setting forth to test long-held notions for intrinsic worth when cleansing the chakras or the inner state when bringing realities held up-to-date. She'll stand there unmoving through tempest and gale before her gaze all that's unworthy will fail and leave one devoid of all sadness and woe with nowhere but forward and upward to go.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

aid she flew

Now there is a tale of a woman in white who lead some lost children back home of a night. They'd been on a journey to visit their kin when in the thick forest a snowstorm set in. The light it was failing the snow piled deep and soon the hill-slope became ragged and steep. One by one they tumbled on down to its base with but a few scratches on hand-pad and face then huddled there freezing knew not what to do and that's when the maiden to their aid she flew. She came out of no-where from out of the night and cured them of worry and lessened their fright and draped them in robes that could have been her hair and led them forthwith to a mountaineer's lair. A fire was burning and much wood was stacked there in that wee shelter that wanderer's shack and rich stew was cooking and so was hot tea to which they responded with exhausted glee. Each ate to his liking each drank to her full and then settled down on soft beds of thick wool and woke in the morning to knocks on the door and heavy boots stamping on the outside floor. Some woodsmen had gathered and were shocked to find all children accounted for none left behind and asked how they'd come to the shelter although the paths through the forest were covered in snow. The children they mentioned the woman in white who had saved their hides on the previous night the woodsmen they nodded not one of them smiled and led then the children back out of the wild but paused to give thanks at some shrines on the way as they headed back to the brightness of day.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

on traveling magi

From far in the west came some wise-men to see just what we were up to in high-mountain Grig. They stayed for 4 fortnights and wrote down our tales they toured our country each marsh meadow vale they lay down with women and spoke with them too and introduced teachings both ancient and new. When rumors of discord did reach our ears the sages they set off to confront their fears that what they'd left behind had been broken down by wild men beholden to nary a crown. A year did then pass and then one year-long more when once again magi did knock on our doors to tell of destruction and heartbreak and woe to ask us for shelter from wild beast and snow. We brought them in kindly and fixed them a feast of goose-meat and bread made without using yeast and asked them for news of the first who had come then wept upon hearing what to them'd been done. All tried as heretics by a new-crowned king they had been first stripped of their fine finger-rings then thrown into dungeons deep dark dank and droll where sickness and hunger did take a harsh toll. Not one of them made it not one did survive to see the new king drawn and quartered alive and schools for such learning as they did once teach spring up from the ashes and extend its reach. There are here some streets named after those sages that we still use now after so many ages and they are B'althazar Me'elkuur and Kaspahr in honor of wise-men who once traveled far.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

Michigan goes biblical

In a landmark act of religious extremism, the U.S. state of Michigan passed laws yesterday to establish Old Testament, Christian rule over its people. “With the blessing of the holy father, we've added these riders to House Bill HMR.447.42, thus returning the rites, customs, and institutions of this great state back to where they belong – the Bronze Age,” said House Speaker Ruth Geihrtruud (R), of Grand Rapids. “Accordingly, any farmer who sows more than one crop in the same field must be killed; anybody wearing clothing woven from two different materials must be put to the knife; any child that curses his parents must hang until deceased; anyone who eats a cheeseburger must perish; any man who trims the edges of his beard and any woman who speaks in church will suffer an ultimate punishment – the swift and brutal cessation of his or her life.” Much like Daesh (ISIS), which intends to impose an Islamic caliphate across the Middle East – and thence, the world – the state of Michigan has abandoned all reason as well as the principle of the separation of church and state by forcing its citizens to live according to the rules of one religion, in particular. “There are roughly 610 ironclad rules for virtuous living found in the holy text,” continued Geihrtruud, who has since her teenage years spent every period of menstruation in a shack far removed from the rest of humanity, as Yahweh intended. “Disobedient slaves, practicing sodomists, and people who seek psychological help will be wiped from the face of the earth so as to ensure that we righteous few who believe in the true word of god might live our lives as the holy father intended – free to do unto others as he commanded, and in so doing, to create a new Jerusalem on these shores and secure for ourselves a seat by his side, in heaven.” Immediately after the passage of House Bill HMR.447.42, squads of armed Christian zealots set about destroying places of false idol worship across the Wolverine State, among them mosques, synagogues, and shrines erected in honor of the state's football mascots.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

on Grigovian features

The Glorious Republic of Grigovia is a landlocked nation in Central Asia. Its neighbors are Iran, Turkmenistan, and Afghanistan. Roughly 200 kilometers north-to-south and 160 kilometers east-to-west, the first known reference to Grigovia is in 'The Histories,' by Herodotus. Marshy bogs lie to the south and west of its capital, Grig (population 120 thousand), which sits on an elevated plateau in the southern foothills of the Yiptlong Massif mountain chain. The Yiptlong has significant deposits of iron-ore, coal, and sulfur that have been mined for centuries. West of the capital is Pyltagrad, a culture-rich city of roughly 50 thousand inhabitants. East of the capital is the Great Dune Sea, an arid former lake bed; Gar Nuuzsch, population 60 thousand, is the primary city in the east – its patroness is Nuuzstathena, goddess of war, technology, and guile. Other deities include Ganestrix (an ant-headed goddess of travel and good fortune) and Oumbast (goddess of cats as well as gracefulness in the face of overwhelming odds). The main city in the south is Pryaghdoyest, an export-oriented manufacturing hub, population 75 thousand; north-east of Pryaghdoyest is an arid plateau with significant deposits of rare-earth metals. Tens of thousands of Yaelong tribes-people call this nation home, living scattered about, primarily in the Yiptlong Massif. Known for their fierce independence and fervent defense of the high plateaus, the Yaelong were feared by Alexander the Great as well as subsequent invaders. A parliamentary democracy with strong socialist traditions, the Grigovian royal family abdicated in the early 20th Century in a sign of respect for the nation's growing anarcho-communist movement, which is still strong today. Group workshops and livings spaces known as 'su'uvyiets' provide training and support in a wide variety of crafts, trades, and skills, each 'su'uvyiets' operating under the loose umbrella of its mother organization. Never in its history has Grigovia been fully conquered (it was the only fully autonomous republic of the USSR), largely because of an extensive tunnel system that runs under almost all of Grig. Most of these tunnels are well maintained and still in use as winter shelters, manufacturing areas, and weapons stores. Robotic and autonomous buses serve outlying villages, and the capital features a dense network of public transportation systems – trams, trolleys, and 4 subway lines. Renewable energy powers roughly 60% of electricity needs, and plans call for the nation to receive nearly all of its power from wind and geothermal sources by the year 2030. Modern Grigovia traces its founding to the semi-mythical Krukuv, a former monk who settled there sometime during the 9th Century C.E., digging a series of deep and sturdy tunnels (for to store his beloved tubers) and taking a Yaelong bride as his mate. Popular recreational activities include hiking, cycling, folk festivals, story-telling competitions, martial arts training, and winter sports; camping is permitted on all public and many private lands. Famous for its tendency to warmly receive immigrants fleeing war and economic turmoil, the population of Grigovia has increased by nearly 9 percent in recent years due to the ongoing conflict in Syria. With strong banking houses, a robust services sector, and a variety of cottage industries that make everything from coo-coo clocks to firearms, the Grigovian economy has proven all but immune to international market volatility, being able to quickly retool according to shifting demand while keeping unemployment at well under 3% for a population nearing 400 thousand souls. In the decades since the Rus and Ynki invasions of Afghanistan, trade with Iran has increased tenfold, primarily heavy machinery from Grigovia's well-developed manufacturing sector. An outspoken critic of Ynki involvement in regional conflicts across the globe, the Glorious Republic of Grigovia has repeatedly demanded that the various peoples of the world enjoy the right to determine their own path in life for themselves, free of foreign intervention. For more on all things Grigovia, please visit www.welcomehome.ggv.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

tricksy and wise

The Yaelong are shrewd clever tricksy and wise yet speak always truthfully and without lies. They train their kids to be the bearers of truth to employ no falsehood the ego to soothe. With bones hard from labor and stout bellies full they suffer not lightly the presence of fools yet sit there unmoving on high plateaus steep for days upon end without squirming or sleep. With hand rock and blade-edge they've been known to kill yet avoid their blood-lust and passions to fill yet act with due patience 'gainst friend and 'gainst foe yet learn to unlearn all the learning they know. We who live among them do not fear their rage for they've stood unmoving for many an age and have well defended Grigovian lands with landslide or cunning or sticks in their hands. To live up among them is a noble feat; most modern men know only clumsy deceit; most modern men give up when going gets tough; most modern men rely on gadgets and stuff. So spend you a weekend or a longer spell where Yaelong and sundry do gather and dwell to learn with them wisdom and how to let go of all that they never knew you didn't know.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

in spiritual havens

There up from the warren of tunnels she'd creep to visit him only when he was asleep. Her home is now lit bright where once it was dim – that maze of deep passages hidden within. It was once a house filled with dark hallways and rooms where too long his sadness he'd sheltered and groomed; then it was a mansion a seaside abode where many emotions he'd packed up and stowed; now it is an alcove with one or two stairs this place where to visit he doth proudly dare. What started in Texas is blooming, you see, in spiritual havens on wild Bali, brought forth through hard labor and great inner toil these places whence much of his failure doth boil. The ego did do it did hide these things deep to later catch him up while counting his sheep but he understands that the voice in his mind is not one that's truthful virtuous or kind; the ego is weaker than this awake heart for here from the place of his feet he will start to root out the sadness that lies at his core and live in harsh brightness henceforth, evermore.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

there and be

Grigovian communes are hearty and neat for they are the place where the like-minded meet. There's one for us writers who practice our craft and one for the tenders who measure out draft and one for the farmers and one just for girls and one for such strongmen who bench-press and curl. Most memberships open to all who might come and welcome all applicants old middle young who want to gain knowledge and insight and skill who want to learn how to live free from all ill. There's one meant for thinkers where they can discuss the issues and problems that affect all of us and one for those people who aren't sure which commune upon them exerts the most lure. To join one is to strike out upon a path of learning such things as crop-sowing or maths or self-defense politics philosophy or how to let go and just sit there and be. Together we can lift up ourselves to great heights and make ourselves ready for foreigners' slights and make ourselves strong and smart best as we can in chapters spread all across this our dear land.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

governor slays dealers

True to his pledge to publicly execute persons harming Mainers, the state's governor, Paul Le Page, today beheaded two (2) executives of a leader sugar corporation as well as two (2) convenience store owners. “These sick – and now, thankfully, dead – people conspired to advertise and sell products packed with toxic levels of their addictive substance to children,” the governor said whilst standing in fresh, pooling blood. “Hooked, those children continued to consume 'White White' until they reached adulthood, when the substance commonly known as sugar overwhelmed their kidneys, which failed. Despite the best treatment available here in our great northern state, fine Mainers succumbed to the damage wrought upon them by the uncaring and solely profit-oriented importers of deadly, addictive, and highly-processed saccharose.” The governor's aides have issued threats against the importers and distributors of alcohol and cigarettes as well as the manufacturers of firearms, and knives. “Let this be a warning to anyone who dares distribute potentially dangerous items to the good people of my beloved Maine,” Le Page said, sweeping his arm over the cooling bodies piled at his feet. “We will not rest until anyone who offers for sale things that might harm us is six feet under.”

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

into something new

The rock in its crevasse the bird in its tree are there for a reason quite unknown to me. I can't see its outline can't grasp lasso noose the deep underlying immutable truth that lies at the heart of this world I live in that's been there before it did even begin. Its contours are shady its net spans the sky it lives in the twinkle loosed from a child's eye it sounds in all barking and every squeak and though it's Unknowable it's far from weak. To miss it's a tragedy words cannot measure and it does care neither for pain nor for pleasure but only for balance which always comes back which sits at the center not white and not black. To hold to it I must learn to let all things go and act without acting and like water flow and stick to what lies at the core of my Self and care not for honor or disgrace or wealth. I praise it in all things both tiny and large am learning to let go and put it in charge to bask in the frailty of this mortal coil and work to keep living when it's turned to soil. To do this I polish the swastika there in its 3rd position its bright golden lair and mete out its power when the time is right and squint not at daylight nor stumble at night. This is not a lie it is what's true for me I post in this space for all man to see then turn back to doing what I love to do – to re-purpose rubbish into something new.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

those rickety heaps

The left one is winning the right one is not and he now knew less than he might have forgot. His hands they were shaking his heart it was cold and bitter from long years of stories he'd told himself and to others about his low worth about such abuse as he'd suffered from birth. He knew not a way out not where he'd soon be or whether he should let his closest friends see the anguish and suffering buried below that had held him back and made his progress slow. Then one day he woke up and had had enough and finally turned 'round to face his past stuff and finally gave up his grasp on his grief those rickety heaps of it those well-stacked sheafs. It wouldn't be easy to stare it all down but he knew if he dug in and stood his ground he'd step from the shadows of what had once been and allow the healing to start and begin.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

those rickety heaps

The left one is winning the right one is not and he now knew less than he might have forgot. His hands they were shaking his heart it was cold and bitter from long years of stories he'd told himself and to others about his low worth about such abuse as he'd suffered from birth. He knew not a way out not where he'd soon be or whether he should let his closest friends see the anguish and suffering buried below that had held him back and made his progress slow. Then one day he woke up and had had enough and finally turned 'round to face his past stuff and finally gave up his grasp on his grief those rickety heaps of it those well-stacked sheafs. It wouldn't be easy to stare it all down but he knew if he dug in and stood his ground he'd step from the shadows of what had once been and allow the healing to start and begin.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

lust far behind

It's time now to lessen the thoughts of the mind and leave such afflictions as lust far behind. By reaching and wanting and trying to grasp one stands there just panting with deep choking gasps one misses the options that may lie beyond one takes up war weapon not peace-making frond. So sit there unblinking and watch it all pass return to the Mother whose power can last so place not importance on this or on that on buttocks well toned or on tits' supple fat. There's nothing one can do to pull someone near except maybe make empty space twixt the ears and clear out attachment thirst hunger desire and keep room for what many call holy fire. While this may sound easy it's anything but for thoughts needs emotions do constantly jut and constantly hamper the efforts of they who seek to find Happiness now here today. Don't give up keep trying stay empty stay bland and be that bright shining star right where you stand; great fortune is coming but so is great pain – it's better to face them with soul-space unstained.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

shelter and sweets

What few homeless people still live in the streets were given this Solstice-Time shelter and sweets. Mere citizens did it, not the state's agents, did go out and knock on those crude makeshift tents did gather belongings in bag tote and box and bring in said vagrants for champagne and lox. A few things were stolen – some knickknacks at best – but for the most part such light fingers did rest and reached for a napkin or reached for the salt and with their loud smacking their hosts did exalt. More of them did stay there to lend helping hands than went back outside to roam once more the land; some cannot be cured of their need to be free to wander and gather their food from the trees. We here in Grigovia believe it's best to bring those with little straight into our nests to wash fête and furnish them with what they need be in a warm blanket or an honest feed. Ganestryx as well as fair Nuuzstathena do smile on they who hold anathema the notion that only the worthy deserve our food love and jackets our kindest of words. So open your doors to whomever may knock for she may be a goddess stood there in just socks in need of a kind and compassoinate word – or maybe a bit of that well-cooked Solst bird.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

water is ours

Our water is ours it is not for sale so stop sending writs of request in the mail. We need it to grow crops and keep ourselves clean and for making power with ground-heated steam. Should we to you sell it for one hundred years confirmed would be our few but longstanding fears concerning dependence and big business greed wherefore we will keep this here wet for our needs. Should such corporations as Coke and Pepsi be allowed to gobble up sources, you see, then soon they will raise prices for you and me and we'll have to scramble to get some clean drink and naught will then flow from well faucet or sink. Grigovian landscape will therefore stay wet and nary a drop of our water you'll get to bottle up and sell what must be kept free – that's how it is now and that's how it will be.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

methods and arts

All safe in our hiding-holes buried below we weather wild winters with faces aglow. There's vents for the fires that keep us here warm and plenty of food-stores to feed us through storms and wells for our water and blankets for night and dances and merriment for our delight. For miles they extend our well-maintained caves where we escape snowfall or months weeks and days; they help us stay fresh for the battles we'll fight against such fool nations as our borders slight. We go up for training and line up in ranks then march off through wind-gusts and piled snow-banks then march back to warm up our chilled bones again – each of us who can walk all women and men. The tubers are safe in their stout wooden stores and stout is the wood of our out-facing doors and stout is the fire that burns in our hearts as are our Grigovian methods and arts.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

and raven hair

Slow it down and take a breath – hurry only hastens death. From the hilltop mountains high loudly sounds the eagle's cry shrill its warbling crass its tone bouncing over rock and stone then it meets this human ear and I think Oh, what's that I hear? Timmy's lost in yonder well and gone is youth's short-lasting spell and now I sit here old and frail with little but a chair and pail? Ah whatever all is good for bright is my impending mood and soon I'll meet a woman fair in spandex tights and raven hair.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

tally and keep

Now pause at the entrance to house temple glen and feel for the telltale threshold guardians who stand at the ready who stand at the watch who can and will best-laid plans ruin and botch. They may be invisible to the plain eye and soundless is each of their soft warning cries but that doesn't mean that they've gone off to sleep for records eternal they tally and keep. So stand for a moment and clear out each want and loosen the heart-strings should they be too taut and ask then the watchers to pass unmolested for theirs is a power that cannot be bested. They'll tangle tent tie-downs and foul every mount if you should the rites to them carelessly flout so set down an offering – salt drink or bread – right after you pause there with an emptied head to thank them for keeping the place where you'll rest free of such bad spirits that harm and molest. It just takes a moment for them to approve your need there within them to settle and move; therefore it is wiser to ask their permission and beg for their blessing in heartfelt submission.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥