The Concrete Apocalypse third pawprint- Grassprouts versus Tanks n' Banks
The Concrete Apocalypse, third pawprint
Grass Sprouts versus Tanks n’ Banks
By Wallaby Poors
Who wants to be a heroic tank,
When you can be a wild grasssprout?
Time to breathe the spirit that is around us
Time to hear the voices of our ancestors
Time to recognise what needs reparation
Time to let the land heal from destruction
Where are we at, in a world dominated by repression and hysterical manipulations of the truth to hide the great wrongs done?
What is wrong with our understanding of the dominant paradigm increasingly restricting our own abilities to survive and express ourselves?
How do we survive?
How will we survive in the future?
How do people learn how to survive if they don’t know they need to learn it?
Our ability to support ourselves self sustainably lacks being able to be readily understood and available to the majority of people. Pushed outside the loop of the mainstream, the capitalist system, how does a grassroots movement for change significantly alter the control of people, land and all they call “resources’ from out of touch elites hiding behind tanks in banks?
The assorted numbers assigned to you for life, the electronic transactions that enable your very survival, the heartbeat as you enter the unemployment office, the crutches of addiction used as coping mechanisms, the bombardment in waking hours of advertising, the dreams flashed back to us when we are asleep from the wired up mental environment of our waking hours, the failure to live up to our impossible and deluded dreams of success and development, the poverty that disempowers our ability to change our lives.
I stand in a barren city, hungry, and have no where to go I can’t scratch the earth for there’s little sandy soil left now we just build over the last environmental disaster
where is the place where I can go for sanctuary all the church doors are locked cos there’s no way in nothing to live for when you have to work in fraud the fraud of modern society where money is king
and you are penalised for not having any.
I have never ever been able to cope with this system. Where does this leave me?
The call of the Zapatistas. You are no longer You. Now You are Us.
I am the other. You are the other. Think like the other walk in the other you are the other
What does this mean? It could be taken as recognising the courage of the other, the unrepresented minorities. How does the other be affected by my actions? It takes a compassionate leap that must be unassuming. If you are to recognise the other, and be the other, then how can you not assume?
Perhaps it is through seeking the voices not represented, the views not considered, that we can understand the other.
The truth is that our system is based only on the pursuit of money, and through the control of more money, the holding of power over others,. The class caste system goes down to the downtrodden classes forgotten. Perhaps this is the other that we are meant to understand, that we are meant to elevate our identities to being.
The ones with nothing to lose but their lives themselves. The ones with nothing to protest with but their own bodies. The ones living and dying in jail for the principle of self-dignity and the protection of their own culture. The persecuted whose affections are frowned upon by their own culture. The majority of children that we didn’t see die on the TV news. Those abused behind closed doors and sealed off family units. Those addicted to sticking needles in their arms.
The grand narrative of modern society is a belief system that some forcefully and subtlety demand that you concur with. Labels are applied to those who don’t, and the fearful people of the lower classes propel these myths given to them on a platter by their ruling class masters, who laugh at the ignorance of the brainwashed all the way to the bank.
We know the labels, the ugly buzzwords, hippie feral terrorist anarchist dole bludger unwashed commie pinko greenie ratbag disrupter troublemaker rabble-rouser. Some labels are made up for us, some we are proud of, some are manipulated into different meanings, some are nasty and some are hilarious. The corporate media is full of shit
Do we dream to live the futures of hollywood movies, detached, disengaged, disconnected? Could we live without the modern day amenity and convenience?
Could we live well and mighty off the refuse of the last generation? And who is going to clean up our stinkin mess?
The secret to sustainability is hidden in our rubbish bins. Reusing and recycling and not creating useless waste in the first place is key. Supermarkets are based solely on profit margins., with underpaid, overworked staff, over packed, unethical, unnatural, genetically modified products. You can’t eat from the bin as its padlocked too make sure you buy the next shipment, containments of goods mass produced by slaves in less fortunate places. The sweat and tears end up in landfill, like the memories of our time.
So much profit for such a loss of value to everything, all that is in our world, the very rocks that are broken and sorted through, often with chemical conditioners like the deadly cyanide, to get the earth’s hidden treasures, treasures to some that are tribulations to all.
No plans are forthcoming to heal from the poisons of tribulation.
Governments focus on building bigger missiles to knock other missiles out of the sky, rather than tackling it on the ground and agreeing diplomatically that we don’t want to shoot each other with nuclear weapons, dismantling and understanding that negotiation and equality are solutions that prevents war from destroying us all.
When darkness is brewing on every side, don’t listen to the television. Life is always feeling, it is not just when the television pauses to remember and be remorceful when pain inflicts acceptable ‘unacceptable’ people. Don’t be sucked into the horrible oblivion of the corporate media.
Screaming, screaming can be good.
Focus, focus, just because the world is fucked doesn’t mean you don’t have to do anything-
With no people to walk down the street in solidarity with, do we do it with our messages painted on walls, do we think of people in other places that we can’t afford to get airfares and visas and visit. Is life just a less poignant Orwellian text because it fits our reality, rather than just in a dark black and white movie or novel.
How spoilt are you, why do you have so much, when did you get ahead of the others and who are the others, the ones that can’t afford organic gourmet tarts? And where does the guilt end and responsibility begin? Where does the depression end and the hope begin?
How do we break down the hierarchical layers of our existence so it doesn’t chain us up, with all of us linked in chains from top to bottom?
Wallaby Poors (aka susitainablesnail) 2004 A Soil Liberation Frontyard Publication Deprogram and Avoid Microchipping
Grass Sprouts versus Tanks n’ Banks
By Wallaby Poors
Who wants to be a heroic tank,
When you can be a wild grasssprout?
Time to breathe the spirit that is around us
Time to hear the voices of our ancestors
Time to recognise what needs reparation
Time to let the land heal from destruction
Where are we at, in a world dominated by repression and hysterical manipulations of the truth to hide the great wrongs done?
What is wrong with our understanding of the dominant paradigm increasingly restricting our own abilities to survive and express ourselves?
How do we survive?
How will we survive in the future?
How do people learn how to survive if they don’t know they need to learn it?
Our ability to support ourselves self sustainably lacks being able to be readily understood and available to the majority of people. Pushed outside the loop of the mainstream, the capitalist system, how does a grassroots movement for change significantly alter the control of people, land and all they call “resources’ from out of touch elites hiding behind tanks in banks?
The assorted numbers assigned to you for life, the electronic transactions that enable your very survival, the heartbeat as you enter the unemployment office, the crutches of addiction used as coping mechanisms, the bombardment in waking hours of advertising, the dreams flashed back to us when we are asleep from the wired up mental environment of our waking hours, the failure to live up to our impossible and deluded dreams of success and development, the poverty that disempowers our ability to change our lives.
I stand in a barren city, hungry, and have no where to go I can’t scratch the earth for there’s little sandy soil left now we just build over the last environmental disaster
where is the place where I can go for sanctuary all the church doors are locked cos there’s no way in nothing to live for when you have to work in fraud the fraud of modern society where money is king
and you are penalised for not having any.
I have never ever been able to cope with this system. Where does this leave me?
The call of the Zapatistas. You are no longer You. Now You are Us.
I am the other. You are the other. Think like the other walk in the other you are the other
What does this mean? It could be taken as recognising the courage of the other, the unrepresented minorities. How does the other be affected by my actions? It takes a compassionate leap that must be unassuming. If you are to recognise the other, and be the other, then how can you not assume?
Perhaps it is through seeking the voices not represented, the views not considered, that we can understand the other.
The truth is that our system is based only on the pursuit of money, and through the control of more money, the holding of power over others,. The class caste system goes down to the downtrodden classes forgotten. Perhaps this is the other that we are meant to understand, that we are meant to elevate our identities to being.
The ones with nothing to lose but their lives themselves. The ones with nothing to protest with but their own bodies. The ones living and dying in jail for the principle of self-dignity and the protection of their own culture. The persecuted whose affections are frowned upon by their own culture. The majority of children that we didn’t see die on the TV news. Those abused behind closed doors and sealed off family units. Those addicted to sticking needles in their arms.
The grand narrative of modern society is a belief system that some forcefully and subtlety demand that you concur with. Labels are applied to those who don’t, and the fearful people of the lower classes propel these myths given to them on a platter by their ruling class masters, who laugh at the ignorance of the brainwashed all the way to the bank.
We know the labels, the ugly buzzwords, hippie feral terrorist anarchist dole bludger unwashed commie pinko greenie ratbag disrupter troublemaker rabble-rouser. Some labels are made up for us, some we are proud of, some are manipulated into different meanings, some are nasty and some are hilarious. The corporate media is full of shit
Do we dream to live the futures of hollywood movies, detached, disengaged, disconnected? Could we live without the modern day amenity and convenience?
Could we live well and mighty off the refuse of the last generation? And who is going to clean up our stinkin mess?
The secret to sustainability is hidden in our rubbish bins. Reusing and recycling and not creating useless waste in the first place is key. Supermarkets are based solely on profit margins., with underpaid, overworked staff, over packed, unethical, unnatural, genetically modified products. You can’t eat from the bin as its padlocked too make sure you buy the next shipment, containments of goods mass produced by slaves in less fortunate places. The sweat and tears end up in landfill, like the memories of our time.
So much profit for such a loss of value to everything, all that is in our world, the very rocks that are broken and sorted through, often with chemical conditioners like the deadly cyanide, to get the earth’s hidden treasures, treasures to some that are tribulations to all.
No plans are forthcoming to heal from the poisons of tribulation.
Governments focus on building bigger missiles to knock other missiles out of the sky, rather than tackling it on the ground and agreeing diplomatically that we don’t want to shoot each other with nuclear weapons, dismantling and understanding that negotiation and equality are solutions that prevents war from destroying us all.
When darkness is brewing on every side, don’t listen to the television. Life is always feeling, it is not just when the television pauses to remember and be remorceful when pain inflicts acceptable ‘unacceptable’ people. Don’t be sucked into the horrible oblivion of the corporate media.
Screaming, screaming can be good.
Focus, focus, just because the world is fucked doesn’t mean you don’t have to do anything-
With no people to walk down the street in solidarity with, do we do it with our messages painted on walls, do we think of people in other places that we can’t afford to get airfares and visas and visit. Is life just a less poignant Orwellian text because it fits our reality, rather than just in a dark black and white movie or novel.
How spoilt are you, why do you have so much, when did you get ahead of the others and who are the others, the ones that can’t afford organic gourmet tarts? And where does the guilt end and responsibility begin? Where does the depression end and the hope begin?
How do we break down the hierarchical layers of our existence so it doesn’t chain us up, with all of us linked in chains from top to bottom?
Wallaby Poors (aka susitainablesnail) 2004 A Soil Liberation Frontyard Publication Deprogram and Avoid Microchipping
posted by Wallaby Poors @ 2:32 AM
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