Musings: “A Postscript to the Post-Modern Age”

ClockTree. Salvador Dali, Spanish Surrealist.

By LJ Frank

History or herstory, when you’re in the midst of an experience a word of mixed roots may evolve, a variation occurs other than the original intent, and the embryonic context is affected within the filtering effect of time, beyond chronological boundaries, for meanings and subsequent metaphors mutate, and how we clothe our presence is more seductive than being naked;

And one may or may not know at the moment who she or he might place in an equivocal position of doubt, for the minute or hour is lost within a frame of reference that’s at odds with the facts, and separated from those who dwell within the confines of their experience, memories over the years are lost and misquoted by those who could know better, but then they have their own bounded agendas in which they are trying to exist, and the metaphor of remembrances is like a person with no peripheral vision, and their eyeglass prescription is out of date;

When the leaders of a company, country or a religion are ignorant of their own detailed brutalities, the mind grows corrupted with knowledge misplaced and miscalculated, and does one man’s purposeful vulgarity sidestep another’s lyric when channeled through lethal acts that change the course of the future;

Though nothing may last forever, such a soothing thought does little for the multitudes that continue to suffer and perish under the compassionless yoke of an ancient marketing scheme titled winners and losers, competition being the primitive roots of greed, material desire gives birth to capital rising toward new heights, and the Market with its ubiquitous broadcasts is not based on an economy but the wealthy few who intellectually masturbate to their gains and others’ losses;

Jealousy is a wasted emotion of an otherwise intelligent mind, for envy is a marketing scheme popularized by those who never have enough to add to their accounts, as if they were more deserving than others, and so cynicism is easy to foster when there’s little nutritious food on the table or a comfortable bed to sleep in, and the moral principles of a religion are held in high esteem when profitable to do so, all the while the child of humanity looks for their mother and father and the roots to compassion;

They are greeted with televised advertisements of liberty and a self-help guide to riches, better health and hope in the offering, while the ache of the undefined hunger of immortality exists under an illusion that the planet is wrapped in a placenta called space, and she and he may not want to think about the mortal chord being cut in the end, as they know all may be adrift in a void thereafter, with faith being an event horizon of the mind and the remaining energy in another dimension.