Plague Doctor

Intelligence is hard; moreover, it’s a weak gene. There’s not just recessive nature to it, it’s an often, and quietly despised virtue. Regularly people seem to associate it with snobbery; I can’t deny the association exists. Through it peculiar that people imagine this as the only virtue that is susceptible. To quote a larrikin comedian who optimizes my point
‘I would take a nice idiot over a smart ass-hole any day of fucking the week, ladies and gentlemen.’
True; but what of the idiotic ass-hole or the kind hearted intelligentsia?
In a limited experience smart people aren’t always, exactly intelligent, more often these people we believe are clever cats could tell you tomes about their profession, while being lost in any words that they consider pointless, beneath them, or uninteresting seeing them as the dialect of fools. These are the ‘smart ass-holes’
I prefer people who are ‘sharp,’ willing to entertain thoughts that seem redundant in efforts of expanding their perspective. This is the intelligence that is hard; the kind that requires a will to learn. The kind of intelligence that is recessive. That is kind that Loral’s cannot be rested on. It is the kind that prizes being wrong as a necessary part of being right.
Speaking from power when you can and relinquishing it when you must learn.

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Attempting To Do Medicine

Soon I’ll leave the speaking to the orators. I find myself exhausted by recounting what is obvious to me and those who have taught me. Frequently I’ve had a desire to prove blissful ignorance is as listless and vain; not worth the fleeting comfort for the Draconian ideas that so effortlessly slip past the blissful, ignorant and optimistic, skeptical of scientism. Though I feel I would miss those honest schisms. Be dissatisfied with the inference of what my, then, peers consider explicit. Can it be trusted that what’s needs be said will be? Given how exhausting necessity can be?
I trust my, now, counter parts to hold the line. Though this is just the issue; It is easier to hold a blissful front than a line held by exhaustion at ignorance that is only taxing to those who recognize it.

Plague

Stupidity is contagious. Moreover, it’s easy. Not evil, much like any other pathogen, but you still wouldn’t want it around you or your friend. Just because it’s morally ambiguous, doesn’t mean we need accept its existence. Not a plague of body, but spirit.
Stupidity spreads itself by exploiting our biases and tendencies to admire entertaining celebrities, attractive? Sure, but not substantive.
Like a pathogen we don’t eradicated the carriers, nor shame them for their lack of sufficient luck. We rehabilitate and vaccinate them, making the disease unable to resurface.
The vaccination to stupidity comes through critical thinking, the rehabilitation through open and caring discussion. The spread of the disease however is only overcome through quarantine. Letting no infected mind slip by unchecked, exterminating the rats spreading it.
Cut off their bread supply.

Examples That Demonstrate a Written Rule’s Author

There are, it seems, Never enough examples to prove something that is not written into fact.
For studied conclusions, no matter how rare the enforcing example; Like Gassim in the Nefud Desert, it is written. For institutions, organizations or poor demonstrations of both who exploit the ‘written’ in writtens, There is a principle that many seem too eager to see everywhere and most see as reading too far into what is written.
Liberties take of actions written.
What I mean is both simple and nuanced. Returning to my initial flawed method to prove this. Take big business, or the more intellectual sounding corporations. (I can almost hear the economic conservatives reading throwing my pages to the ground with confident disgust.)
For these cretins I will nominate their usual fall guy. Coal please come to the stage.
The coal industry exists for two reasons: One to satisfy our lust for fluorescent blue lighting and two to make profit.
I could argue semantics of the later but I won’t. Brand is disposable and about as guided toward a morality as a flea is toward higher reasoning. I’ll trust you are not the same. The coal industry like most pertaining to the public is regulated. Some say too much, some say too little, flea sized perhaps; either way you will create elites of regulators or wealthy coal magnates, respectively.
Now the question becomes, which is more preferable? I believe there is a balance. For my original point of ‘liberties take of actions written.’ The later is more applicable. The sumation of the coal industry’s two functions is ‘sell you more coal.’
That is the singular directive of almost every corporation in the for profit sector without exception, though the product may vary.
Now, say, a particular politician wants to cut regulation on coal mining and sale of the product. Why? Because, simply, the magnates pay pretty bills for ones they’ve written, or influenced, to be past.
Or if you are more conservative in mindset, say it increased productivity of coal and increases GDP while the industry receives a tidy profit for the hard work.
Either liberty assumed to be taken from the action of this politician, has one result I have left out for the sake of suspense and respect of your intelligence, ‘aren’t I sly?’
It’s power transferring. ‘Anti-climactic, right?’ The unspoken and definitely not ‘written’ part of this bill is, in many cases, this deregulation makes it easier for the industry to follow its prime directive:
‘Sell More Coal.’
‘So what? The rich white guys get richer and buy obscene yachts to quell their small man syndrome. So what?’
Problem is this found obscene wealth is partially used for ‘efficiency expanding exersizes’ or in words of someone both literally and metaphorically less tongue tied. ‘cutting regulations.’
And so the politician takes the ‘campaign donations.’ or ‘gifts from friends.’ Etc etc, until we’re back two sentences again, only; ‘So what?’
‘The coal industry makes more money than there are stars, so what?’
Well with each of those regulations that is cut means lost jobs for coal miners, overtime, a for more extra unpaid shifts for the manager. I would mention the climate. Though I fear the fleas it would stur and the ranting and raging I would start.
Suffice to say. It’d be shit if there were no regulations and I’m sure you can tell why. The concern, to put it featherweight at best, I lay at corporations glass feet comes out of the fact that by their own modus operandi they will use any amount of money or manipulation to serve the goal of ‘Sell More Coal’ or generally profit acquisition.
As long as they are in the green the means are encouraged.
This would never make news.
This agreement between politician and coal magnate X would not have minutes, nor onlookers, nor taps, nor bugs, nor records. It would not be ‘written.’
So because of this two things are true the meetings take place outside the public sphere, never understood as ‘written’ it assures that everything that will be written on the subject of such a meeting is secondary or circumstantial. At best.
This is because the only first person evidence holder in such a meeting who must comment, has already been given what will become ‘written,’ law they are about to pass and compensation for that, or his is, more to a conservative read so believing that coal is cool as can be, that the talking points, are just their points. The latter way, to the corporations, even better, less cuts in the bottom-line or more capital to invest in convincing or smearing other politicians, the former ‘no worries. Good thing we cut regulations last time.’
None of this written or explicit, no book will elighten you with stats nor news story convince you with graphics because this no story in secondary or circumstantial, that isn’t sensationalisable. It is merely a logial liberty that could be taken of the possibilities of an action like deregulation contains in very definition. One can’t regulate the definition of deregulation. And there, is just one example that demonstrates there aren’t enough examples to prove, something that is not ‘written.’
This example is mirrored in many fields and industries so watch for what is not ‘written’
Seems I’ve written it.
Do you need another example?

White, Grey, Black. (First Collection)

I create patterns with myself, building with my preconceived notions, in the hopes they are proven wrong. I find joy in golden-ratio-like-spiral-like problems; mental and emotional questions with no answers nor meaningful punctuation. I use my mind mindlessly, before I loose it to open oceans with no water.
I met a concreter who seemed as set in his ways as the result of his days. He told m,e with his several pints, that fewer words is better; a life lesson for a writer certainly.
I agree.
But lacking certainty in what is being said the notions I conceive and temporarily deceive myself with are better explained by choice words, moreover paragraphs if necessary.
By way of example, how do you explain a vibe by simply uttering ‘it was the vibe.’
That’s not particularly helpful. No, novels and tomes have been written, all incomplete on the topic of a simply happy ‘vibe’, let alone anything of substantive fact.
my question to fellows and concreters alike is; How much of the world have you seen recently, that behaves with certainty? So famously few of words? Seems fabulously sub-optimal to describe a human world where ‘vibe’ is as dispensable as a Facebook like and fact never more elusive in common conversation.

Liberal party: from the hearty

We rage for our generation in the hopes the old ways remember the immorality of inconsistent belief. The first world obligated to remain vigulent to demented ideas from within,  to evil orange sprites

What happened? When was our progress smeared by selfish uses of our gear?

I hope ignorance and greed of 18th White ‘rights’ can be healed, for the sake of our beloved, I do try to hope. Seems all too true, this vigilance we must keep as fire in our chests, lest we see a future coloured darkest blue. Not long till the rich twitch from nooses and catch nicks from pitchforks for their abuses.

Higher networth… Seems only a dirth, while we sit praised and punished in one boomer breath. Payback’s a bitch from those with sewn lips and scarred thighs, can’t help but question the motives of Liberal voters, despite a fear of dogma to their side, I see only self interest and no bother. So many arguments of scale starring ‘why bother.’

Does that bother you? Wouldn’t it do? That precious few decide it fine for you to get screwed, while nihil surprise their profits grew. Sick of the values of work from those least down to earth. Doesn’t this seem insane? Very least strange?

Wonder my distain to the billion or so heirs names? While they so seamlessly gain while other lay slain. Yet heirs would say those in pain are our bane.

Hit’s a nerve don’t it? Like the nerve of big profit to profligate such hate.

Hypocrisy that can’t be playcated. I maintain I simply wonder, simply wonder on an explaintion.

Pink Glaze :gM Sneak Peak

Beacons flag at a lit sky over the abstract symbol of production. Something gained for everything lost. John: ‘there are some people who are productive with their days.’ Magusto: ‘How do they get up this early on a Sunday morning?’ Slumping back onto the rail of the skate park.

Lost track of time, so it goes. With all our lives promised as day time creatures, we are restless. Asleep in the dim morning is the instinct of insects night the time of limited prospects and low regard for objects, pro’s suggest our early morning counter parts are due in their success but the dew is more than water for the eyes of early risers. It’s quenches the thrist of those who have been awake since dawn dawned the night before. Lost track of light, so it goes.

As the sky rises seems to give the only honest interactions between productive and wastrels. Smiles from dog walkers to bicycle riding hooligans, iris’ stretched, wired as they are. The one with the pooch may even turn home to tell their still waking husband of the wonder they saw of such early morning risers in such young faces! Though they didn’t see the bottle of bourbon stashed near that gum tree. No those details slip by anyone who has seen total black the night before… And is that a joint or a cigarette petard to their lips?

For everything gained something is lost, lost wonder, for them who couldn’t see the light through light thoughted routine, The streams of the sun through lastnight’s clouds or the inner fury to keep thrashed eyes open. Gained is that stability of thinking we’re probably layabouts about to fall of the rails, the plans of which their corporate emails entail. But always concrete cathedrals paile to a stars holy grail. Title all so fickle in the morning light. Nature has a prickly sense of justice, patience to match. While others catch rest the best will see no than sleep upon death. Twice as many breaths and a stretch. Nails hardened at this and hair grows long.

Skin rubbed raw and claws rake faces that have endure beats and bludgeons to stay trudging on.

The insects instincts and reactions strain outward from high eyes, as euphoria fades to splayed soul, in love with all. Small trash matching clutching schedules residual value

I’m telling, you know little of sleeping rough, drivel, no bluff neither do we. But those staining tired eyes shed light on plights they feel dry toward. Only difference is the shades. Only difference is our parents made it, while they fade with no fresh pink glaze.

That’s probably what they think it’s why we’re doing this. So what can we do but keep sleepless nights contemplating corporate slights, for insects with no swarm aren’t long warm. Yet their utopia is out dystopia reality, ignorance is a privilege see we got the choice so did you, they choose both of two for the other to suffer the later. For everything gained something is lost.

But we the dreamless dream of heterotopia the beautifully plain middle ground that contains in spaces our fires glazed pink from just. letting. go. 

Truely rose coloured even when we remove or sunglasses

🎍🎋🌊

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