Exposing the Fissure

There is the reality that is spun and there is the reality that spins... extant and irrespective of wishes otherwise. Verily, wishing the latter the former á la godmothers of faerie... no more transforms the reality that spins into the reality that is spun... than believing the unbelievable corporealizes the incorporeal.

Exposing the Fissure

Though you and I traverse the same grandverse...

... you are not who you seem...

... and neither am I.

*

You and your kind live and breathe facades...

... like wearing skins... you don masks and enact charades... as if you are not you... as if charades and masks of make believe are not as unreal and as incorporeal as the emperor's new clothes.

Alas...

... though facades as transparent as houses of glass come and go as inevitable as tides and kings...you and your kind unremittingly renounce the truth for guile... in the name of the only matter that matters...

... you the eternal you.

* 

Needless to say...

... you and your kind are as eternal as echoes of obliteration... the haunting elegy of never more that prefaces the wake of destroyers for vanity and avarice.

Like pestilence and poverty and famine and war...

... barbarism and savagery vanquishes mercy and grace... in the name of pedestals that patronize and intentions that lie...

... and more more more for you you you.

*

No skin... no clothes... no dusts of faerie... now or then...

... is the truth.

*

Me and my kind?

We live and breathe the truth... 

... extant and irrespective of histories lessons truths rewritten revisioned forgotten...

... á la Sisyphus of ever we are truth doers á la Cassandra of never we are truth sayers á la Scheherazade of anon we are truth tellers... who expose the fissure between the masque of belief making... and the truth.

Selected Annotation

'fissure' refers to fissure, fisher, etc.

'tides' refers to tides, prince of tides, etc.

'kings' refers to kings, fisher kings, etc.

'masque' refers to masque, mask, etc.

'belief making' refers to belief making, make believe, etc.

etc.

M

Faerie Dust for Fools

a conversation (or dialogue, if you will)...

*

Twinkle: You see? Faerie dust is make believe.

Wrinkle nodded: I see. By corporealizing the incorporeal - such as, that state of mind of making oneself believe the incorporeal - (which is an incorporeal state) - the incorporeal is made tangible, explicit, overt, visible, etc. vis a vis mechanics of faerie dust and make believe.

Twinkle nodded: It is a literary device - (among many) - that illustrates how facilely that state of mind of making oneself believe the unbelievable, the unreal, the impossible, the incorporeal, even, etc. is achieved -

Wrinkle nodded: By employing a device that is both simple and superficial - that is, by employing a device with the uncomplicated dynamic of layering atop reality, so to speak, and is therefore, superficial or artificial, if you will, in order to effect that state of mind of making oneself believe the incorporeal - this literary device illustrates the ease with which all of us believe that which would otherwise be unbelievable.

Twinkle: Exactly!

Twinkle: In the real world, however - beyond the world of faerie and tales that mirror not imaginations nor fictions but truths of reality - faerie dust and make believe are quite chameleon and adept at invisibly effecting states of mind of making allselves believe the unbelievable, the unreal, the impossible, the incorporeal, etc. with hardly a tremble of doubt in sight -

Wrinkle: Indeed! Such that, I would wager that faerie dust and make believe are for fools - witting and unwitting, alike - who sway to the whim and caprice of superfice and artifice, as if superfice and artifice are more real than that which is real and more true than that which is true - until that which reigns supreme within allselves is belief and belief alone -

Twinkle nodded: Such is the harm of states of mind that are undetectably enthralled by faerie dust and make believe - that superfice and artifice are not exposed as such - verily, as lenses that inform perspectives that uphold and avow make believe and faerie dust in the name of lies masquerading as truths -

Wrinkle: Including that lie masquerading as truth that tales (of faerie, etc.) of then and now are not also subject to such lenses that inform such perspectives that strive for that state of mind wherein belief and belief alone reigns supreme within allselves.

Twinkle sighed: Alas, among fools, devolution is inevitable, and so too supremacy of make believe and faerie dust.

Nota Bene

Twinkle and Wrinkle are mirrors -

M

Forgotten

Like histories rewritten are histories unlearned, lessons forgotten are errors repeated.

Like dominoes that inexorably tumble in predictable succession, dominoes that believe their histories are yet unwritten their lessons are yet unrealized, are no less subject to the truth of inevitability, than dominoes that stand 'fore eternity with the vigor of grace.

Still. Histories unlearned and errors repeated is the name of the game of more more more for never enoughers who never tire of never enoughing.

Forgotten

Are you playing the game of more more more? For whom?

Who benefits when you play the game of more more more?

And who suffers?

For never enoughers benefit when errors are repeated and histories are unlearned. For dominoes are facilely swayed. That their errors are unrealized. That their histories are unwritten. Even as errors are realized and realized 'fore dominoes that fall 'fore forgotten lesson after lesson. Even as history is repeated and repeated as dominoes tumble and tumble in predictable succession.

Even as never enoughers are never enoughing as never before, dominoes believe the truth is not their truth. As if by belief alone, the truth is nullified for dominoes that believe. Even as the truth of inevitability inexorably unfolds impervious to beliefs that lie.

*

Do you repeat histories unlearned? Do you realize errors repeated?

*

What if... lessons are revisioned to lie? To suit agendas of then and now. Agendas of me me me and more more more and division and disunity endemic of isms then and now.

What if... histories are rewritten to lie? To suit agendas of then and now. Agendas of me me me and more more more and rancor and strife endemic of isms then and now.

Are the lessons you remember... the truth? Are the histories you know... the truth?

*

Even as the truth of inevitability inexorably unfolds impervious to beliefs that lie... do you believe the truth is not your truth?

*

If the lens of your perspective is yours and yours alone... do you see the truth?

If you embrace not the truth of mutuus et aequum of all kind... do you avow the truth?

If you uphold not vivo et liber for all... do you uphold the truth?

*

For what truth is true that confers upon one lens and one lens alone the truth that governs over all?

For what truth is true that repudiates the inviolable the sacrosanct mutuus et aequum of all kind?

For what truth is true that rejects vivo et liber for all?

* 

Lies of strife and rancor and disunity and division that masquerade as truths are facilely endemified... then and now... when histories lessons truths are rewritten revisioned forgotten.

More

How facilely histories lessons truths are rewritten revisioned forgotten... then and now.

In childhood. In adulthood. In immaturity. In maturity. Lies are endemified into stone. Writ immutable. Until what does not matter is all that matters. As if what does not matter and what does... is not the truth of inevitability inexorably unfolding impervious to beliefs that lie.

M

Life Is Fruit

Life is not a tempting carousel of rarities languidly twirling on display. The white rhinoceros. The gold stiletto. The bejeweled mechanical whippoorwill. Here and there. For consumption. For entertainment. For sale.

No.

Life is fruit. As gravely malformed without and refreshing within. As enticingly unblemished at the surface and rotten at the core.

Such is life that choices that herald our fortunes achieved, our dreams fulfilled, our loves secured for perpetuity with naught but choices between us and heaven on earth, is not what is real. Such is life that choices that herald the same the same the same, is.

Ah.

But optimism!

As if the solution to the truth of what is real and what is not, is the lie.

As if the lie the lie the lie is the truth by default of blind vehemence.

Alas.

Ephemera is ephemera and there is no truth that transforms ephemera into love maker, dream catcher, fortune giver. Whilst the material world is the material world and the material world is fraught with fortune takers, dream killers, love breakers for whom enough is never enough.

And who benefits from the lie that the truth is the lie?

And who suffers from the lie the lie the lie?

Ah.

But ignorance!

To know not what is not real, to know not what is, is no bliss of rose tint nor euphoria of wish song. To know not what is not real, to know not what is, is willful blindness 'fore treacheries unseen. As if ignorance ever illuminates the truth much less excuses the despicable. No less reprehensibly, the sightless tread 'fore treachery with the ruthless indifference of love breakers, dream killers, fortune takers.

Do they not?

Is not the silence of the ignorant as shameless as the savagery of the treacherous?

And thus the treacherous win win win.

And thus the ignorant drink the lie the lie the lie with breathless gulps of blind devotion to sightlessness.

Until what is not real and what is, is up side down. Until what is not true and what is, is wrong side right. Such that fortunes desired, dreams imagined, loves pursued are naught but fool's gold as worthless as promises. Such that bejeweled mechanical whippoorwills, gold stilettos, white rhinoceroses are naught but hollow trophies for sale to fools.

So long as enough is never enough for love breakers, dream killers, fortune takers, no choice will ever herald fortunes achieved, dreams fulfilled, loves secured for perpetuity. So long as enough is never enough for never enoughers, the lie will prevail that life is a carousel of loves, dreams, fortunes beguilingly twirling on display with naught between haves and have nots but choices.

As if such lie enticingly unblemished on the surface is not rotten to the core. Whilst the truth, though undoubtedly imperfect, is indisputably real.

Intentions that Lie

The thing about intentions is that we're often snookered by frauds who affirm their good intentions with deceits as opaque as black mirrors.

*

How often are we deterred from saying the right thing...

How often are we thwarted from doing the right thing...

How often are we dissuaded from believing the right thing...

... by the good intentions of others...

... by that friend armed with apocryphal testimonies, that colleague brimming with factless knowledge, that adviser wielding authority as flaccid as credentials...

... whose vehemence is implacable, whose fervor is relentless, whose intentions are the best...?

Yet...

... all the best intentions in the grandverse...

... all the good intentions of all kind...

... are worthless...

... if they are lies of self conceit and personal hubris.

*

We know what is wrong and we know what is right.

To stand 'fore the friend armed with apocryphal testimonies... and say the right thing...

To stand 'fore the colleague brimming with factless knowledge... and do the right thing...

To stand 'fore the adviser wielding authority as flaccid as credentials... and believe the right thing...

... is right.

Because such friends, such colleagues, such advisers...

... are frauds...

... whose personal hubris and self conceit pave roads of ill intention that rob all of us of right...

... for wrong.

More

How often are good intentions merely excuses, justifications, defenses of that which is wrong and indefensible?

How often are good intentions merely tools of manipulation, intimidation, coercion by advisers, colleagues, friends... whose intentions lie as facilely as promises?

How often do we heed what we know to be right and what we know to be wrong...?

How often do we stand 'fore implacable self conceit and ruthless personal hubris...

... and repudiate the road that is wrong...

... and take the road less travelled...

... and believe, and do, and say... the truth?

Because all the snookering in the grandverse...

Because all the polishing of mirrors as black as lies by all kind...

... would be for naught...

... if right prevailed every when wrong deceived.

M

Et Gratis

If a contract or agreement binds us to wrong...

... is it right?

Is not such contract such agreement... indefensible?

Yet... such agreements as insipid as thrones such contracts as hollow as titles, persist here and there, with absolute disregard for what is right...

... for what is wrong.

If a contract or agreement binds us to wrong believing believe believer, wrong doing do doer, wrong saying say sayer...

... is it just?

Are not such contracts such agreements... coercive, hostile, extortive... regardless of intentions unscrupulously affirmed the best...?

For...

... here and there exist agreements and contracts that disenfranchise our dignity to right...

... here and there exist agreements and contracts that wrong.

After all is said...

After all is done...

... contracts and agreements come and go...

... what is wrong is the lie that lies and what is right is the truth that truths...

... as semper et perpetuum as inshallah karma moirai.

M

The Shallows

Before jumping into the deep end...

... let's recall a few transpirations.

... let's recognize a few facts and faiths.

... let's not tantrum in the shallows, because the shallows are not the deep end, despite every woe betided distorted, misspoken, adulterated as such.

*

It is not a marathon.

It never is.

Life is granted. Life is taken. In moments no greater than a blink. Nasty, brutish, and short, lives are commonplace and as easy to come by as breathing.

And more and more...

Lies are told. Lies are forgotten. No more remarkable than a hiccup. Lies are everywhere. Laying every bed. Weaving every fabric. Buttressing every fact and every faith.

Whether you are some one or no one...

Life is not a marathon.

Nor are lies the truth.

*

Pedestals are convenient superiorities from which to tower inferiorities. Hoisted by our own conceit, we anoint our selves thusly worthy.

As if titles confer tower.

As if wealth confers nobility.

As if power, fame, ego confer honor.

As if by superfice, artifice, fraud of prostitution, integrity sold and bought is true.

As if the lie of such convenience such conceit is not as crystal as black and white.

Still. Unlike word salads meticulously fed to ravenous mobs, humility hardly sticks to the ribs. 

*

To be guided by sways of weather fair, is to fare no better than the vain windsock that lacks in concreteness that which is bloated by bluster.

Verily windsocks proliferate like maggots to detritus.

With titles and without.

Without wealth and with.

With power fame and absence thereof.

For...

Not recalling transpirations...

Ignorance of facts and faiths...

Penchants for tantrums in shallows that are not the deep end...

Habitual distortion, calculated misspeech, and vacuous adulteration of woes betided...

... are as typical of the superior as the inferior.

After all...

... superiority is but that state that mind that repudiates the truth for lies that lay every bed, lies that weave every fabric, and lies that buttress every fact and every faith.

Note

Nasty, brutish, and short above is a reference to Thomas Hobbes' Leviathan.

for Sale -- Sold! below is a reference to Terry Brooks' Magic Kingdom (of Landover).

M

*

More

Who among us... believe not that we and us are superior?

Who among us... believe not that they and them are inferior?

Is this belief not hubris... that slippery slope of devolution?

Is this belief not destructive to that mutuus et aequum that is the bedrock of civilized human society... that cornerstone that tames the merciless savagery and base brutality of human nature? Verily... that society by all of all for all whose motto is that phrase adulterated by patriotism: e pluribus unum?

Alas...

the shameless prefer their integrity...

for Sale -- Sold!

M