information?

Sometimes is good not to give away too much. Explanations, you always wanna be 100% clear, avoid misreading, not hurt people's feelings, all that. But then, surely when you talk to someone they fill out stuff, what you don't say they add it themselves, even if you don't want them to! So you might as well sit back and relax.

Oh, and another thing one mustn't be is too helpful, even something like that can be bad in excess! And people can take offence to that kind of stuff, not everyone, just some.

Just thoughts. Good to remind yourself.

What I love about Yellow Submarine: Too easy for children, too difficult for adults

Once upon a time, or maybe twice, there was an unearthly paradise called Pepperland - A place where happiness and music reigned supreme. But all that was threatened when the terrible Blue Meanies declared war and sent in their army led by a menacing flying glove to destroy everything that is good. 

Enter John, Paul, George and Ringo, four lads from North England, to save the day! Armed with little more than their sense of humour and wit, their songs, a bunch of old instruments and of course, their Yellow Submarine. These fab-tastic boys tackle the rough seas ahead of them, all the way from Merseyside down to this beautiful land, in an effort to bring down these evil forces. 

TO BE CONTINUED...

Has the world gone freakin' insane?

Pre-planned obsolescence is disgusting and generates pointless waste

This jug with its water filter is now useless to me, the supermarket that sells it (I won't mention their name, to be honest, it doesn't matter they're all the same) now stocks a different model which from what I can see offers absolutely no improvement. NOTHING. It's only a f***ing water filter! How much better can it get?

So why change the shape of the filter then? There's no reason of course. The answer is so I now have to go buy not only the spare filters which would cost £3.00, but also a new jug that will fit the new shape of filters, which in total costs £15.00. 

Why do I have to throw away this jug, which is perfectly fit for use? Another useless piece of shit for the landfill for no other reason other that maxing up profit.

It is obscene and it makes me want to throw up.

And that day, the veil was lifted forever...(short version)

When I awoke that morning I could have never imagined what I would encounter that day.

Experimentation with LSD was pretty normal in those days, and I am talking barely four years ago, though I make it sound like some pre-war memoirs. In a way it feels like that, even though it is in my not-so-distant past.

That evening, at John's house I really had a true, direct experience of the matrix, and saw how it is very much a reality. The fact that there is a construct, a living exterior that we take for granted, and that it is systematically downloaded into our brains as we speak, a 'reality' so pervasive that it colours everything, and I mean everything was revealed to me in its full magnitude. 

Our beliefs, our dreams, our objects of hate, of admiration, you name it. Everything is downloaded into our brains, and we participate of it unknowingly, from birth. The question is, unless you know how it is done, how can you prevent it from happening? That is in fact the ultimate question, and it's taken me a long time to come around and write this. I still don't have all the answers, I look at it as a process, and knowing what I am about to tell you is the first step.

Knowing how it is done is exactly what happened that evening, It is only through the reckless eyes of a hallucinogenic drug that I did it finally come to 'being' as the truth laid bare in front my eyes: the veil had been lifted, the Watchovski brothers weren't lying. The Matrix is REAL.

And I am writing this in the hope that whoever reads this takes some time to stop and consider the possibility. If you know it, well done, you've made it to the other side. What you do with your newfound freedom is entirely your resposibility. 

By the way, this is not a literary fiction, not a  short story, not a Hollywood reverberation. It is as real as me typing on this keyboard and you reading it on your screen. Just in case you're still thinking it.

If you're looking for answers I can give you some. Something must have brought you here, I want this to provoke you and spur a reaction in you. I really hope this puts you in the right path. 

Is there a right path? Well, I am no religious nutter, but I certainly know what it is to live in ignorance and that is the saddest of all possible lifes, to get to the end of this life without having had a glimpse of the other side, of that which you are not meant to know.

There is no salvation being sold here, no damnation or paradise on the other side, there is only truth and mirage, that's all. And I want to you to find the truth. Cause I care about you and about the future of mankind.

It all started with a DVD, harmless, right? Well for those of you unaware of what acid does to you, I will explain: it is a bullshit-proof substance. It doesn't allow for excuses, the kind of soft excuses and white lies that you tell yourself, the kind that you bring up to massage your ego, or to soothe your consciousness about what you feel is not right, but somehow it's okay. I'm talking about, mistakes, shortcomings, or mainly not being or trying YOUR BEST.

When under psychoactive drugs, whatever it is that something makes you feel, whatever thoughts you receive or produce, if you like, those thoughts you MUST follow, those feelings, sadness, happiness, you're suddenly compelled to examine, to pull them apart. 

I am not one of those people who believes you NEED to try this or that drug, and that it will CHANGE your life. I am someone who believes that the truth is good enough on its own and that deep down we all have the heart in the right place, and THAT is the key to understand that what I am suggesting here is right.

Long before that fateful day I had been feeling uneasy. I had started reading about conspiracies about a year earlier... and suddenly the world was a much more terrifying place, or so I thought then. I know better now.

As you would expect when you come across specific information about those very rich people who have A LOT and want more, and won't think twice about doing whatever it takes to preserve their status, it can make you feel quite sick, let alone paranoid. I mean we all know about such stories to some extent. We all know that such people exist, it's only a matter of how much detail you go into. So in a way these conspiracy ideas were nothing new, certainly not in my own universe. 

Yet, the idea of an elite manipulating world events, of this or that intelligence agency going into this or that remote island to promote a certain dictator, or that politician coordinating a number of armies to influence the outcome of a certain war is one thing. But, as someone suggested, my very own thoughts and emotions also being controlled? I had to laugh.

Don't be ridiculous! Surely I am responsible and in control for what I believe, 

Ain't I?

After all, I am an intelligent guy! Or that's what my teacher always used to tell my parents in school. I have an education, I know about left and right, I am in control of what goes on inside my head...  maybe not.

But here is the point, one thing is to read about it, to toy with an idea, to consider it from a mental perspective, to believe you intellectually understand how it is done to you. That is not enough. That alone is nothing more than a pastime.

That day I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the invisible threads that had always been there, pulling my thoughts and emotions. And it was a very nasty feeling.

So, back to the DVD. 

A friend of John had edited and put together a short documentary clip. I suppose you could call it political, although it wasn't political in the usual sense of the word. That, together with the movie Rockers (1973) which we had just watched, took a whole new meaning for me. 

I know for a fact that my friend John derived some perverse pleasure from putting me and my girlfriend at the time through it. He knew we had taken acid, so he somehow expected the documentary to have quite a dramatic effect on us, although I doubt he could have anticipated my reaction.

All the DVD had was a sort of a social commentary, it talked about social class, about work, consumerism, the way we think and live, and on it went deconstructing our society and arguing how modern life means that we live mostly in isolation. Nothing incredibly original, definitely nothing new. But it's what you make of it that matters, bullshit-proof, remember?

Now, someone might argue that not everyone lives in complete isolation. Urban areas are definitely full of examples of this kind of lonely life, but there are plenty of suburban areas in every town where small communities of families and neighbours thrive and happily share their lives. I find this really interesting, it always involves children.

But there was something about the way this was presented that felt incredibly compelling. The documentary suggested that we live like bees, little cells of isolation where we come back at night after a day of work at the hive. Not only that, but also that every single hobby, political preference, genre, sub-genre and sub-sub-genre of music, and I would suggest even spiritual affiliation is manufactured for our consumption. Tele-directed individually at each of us inside our hexagonal compartments.

Rows and rows of consumer labels and sub-labels that are put in front of our minds to choose, classify and break down the world into manageable chunks. 

Of course the usual answer would be: "Well, that's, that's what market economy means. the consumer society dictates that, you know, and variety is good!", or something along those lines. But there's another side to it. Is not about the effect on the environment, the values it fosters in people or even the impact on under-developed countries. It's the impact on your MIND. That is the first target of it all, and the most pervasive harm that is done to you from the moment you wake up and, say, you buy your newspaper or go to your local supermarket and buy fair trade coffee or the latest Hello magazine while you drink your soft drink of choice.  

At that precise moment in time, I felt as if someone reached inside me and touched the chore of my being, like someone pricking my spinal chord with a long needle. It was as if I felt pain for the first time in my life and I don't mean my own, but SOMEONE ELSE's pain. 

I then felt as a newborn gasping for air, literally, like a man who, just like the Keanu Reeves character, opened his eyes to a reality that had been concealed, although he was aware of its deceits on an intellectual level. From that perspective, it was as if had never had opened my eyes before. The veil had been lifted. 

The closest comparison that I can find is when Neo breaks out of the cocoon and gasps for air after taking the red pill. That is exactly how it felt.

Maybe that is why buddha went on so much about suffering, and maybe understanding it really is the key to freedom. 

It was nothing more than a simple DVD. But suddenly it all seemed plausible. It was more than that, it was blatant. 

This DVD went on deconstructing just about everything in our modern daily life, very shortly, no more than forty minutes, half an hour, maybe less. It's hard to tell as my perception of time was warped, but then again truth can be told very briefly, and with the help of the bullshit-proof glasses of the drug this fell like a ton of bricks, a perturbation in my awareness so huge it was impossible to ignore.

And for that I thank you John.

You creeped me out for the following six months, but I owe you my freedom.

When you realise everything must go, including yourself, it's a good time for domestic cleaning!

So! here we are,

I've decided my books make me sick, so if you think there's anything you would like to own, here are some of them for you to look at. If you think you would definitely like to read some particular ones then let's meet in amazon, ebay or whatever.

I am just tired of seeing them on the shelf just to please my own vanity. There, said it.

An

d since this is my blog, I post whatever I please so from today I don't care if it sounds moronic or pedantic, mediocre or psychotic. What   ever

Shit, that feels really good actually.....

And the good thing is I feel very light! I don't know why, but I felt like I had to keep them, like I owed it to them, those little books looking at me from the shelf, they'd be so upset if I threw them away! let alone give to someone else!! 

After all....

They're MINE! aren't they? Yes of course, I paid for them, 

and that makes them MINE! Am I right? yes, I think so.

And these are not all, there are more to come.... cause that's the meaning of life after all, isn't it? accumulating things, so that you can get people to admire them! look at my books on the shelf, ain't I clever? Yes, and after you finish admiring those books you can start admiring ME!

Yes, that's great, thank you! Tomorrow you can come back for some tea and more of the same. Cheerio!

But you know what? I found that when you leave that burden behind there is space for new books, and most of all, money! suddenly the feeling of scarcity, of not having enough money to do those things I want to do is transformed, even if it's just a tiny bit. I can sell some of these books at least and buy the ones I have been wanting to read for aeons! Fucking brilliant, and you know what?

I feel light as a feather!