I'm often criticized as being "anti-west", but I am not anti-west, I am pro-west. I am so pro-west that I want our values of peace, freedom, democracy, truth and justice to be real life things that exist in actual western civilization and not just a fiction that is taught to western schoolchildren.

I am so pro-west that I want the west to embody the actual western values it pretends to embody. I am so pro-west that I support the practice of spreading western values to the west. I'm a western cultural imperialist, except I want to do western cultural imperialism to the west. I'm like a conquistador, a western colonialist setting sail to spread the wonders of western civilization to these godless western savages. Except instead of actually just bringing them murder, slavery, theft and disease I really am trying to bring them western civilization.

Reading by Tim Foley.

I Support Western Values More Than The West Does

In times like these
when nuclear warheads are being moved into position,
when weapons manufacturers can't keep up with the demand,
when the pundits are making everyone stupid and crazy,
when it's hard to remember Assange's face but you can't turn on a screen without seeing Zelensky,
when our culture is manufactured on conveyor belts in New York, Hollywood, Arlington and Langley,
when everything's fake but the bombs and blockades,
when it feels like we're rocketing toward armageddon next to Jeff Bezos in a space suit,
when it feels like the angels have become smack addicts but have to settle for shitty Fentanyl fixes,
when it feels like God got kicked out of the group home and has to sell his plasma and sperm for cash,
when it feels like Heaven must be powered by smoggy nineteenth century London coal,
when it feels like the angel and the demon on humanity's shoulders are double fucking our ear canals,
when the bastards have sleeves full of bottomless aces while we're still trying to learn the rules,
when annihilation feels like a certainty and transcendence like a fairy tale,
it helps to have somewhere solid to take your stand.

In times like these
when everyone's so alienated they have to consume chemical intoxicants together just to share affection with each other,
when everyone's so lonely they trap animals in their homes with them so at least they have something that can't leave,
when everyone's so afraid of their own vulnerabilities they preemptively attack anyone who lowers their guard,
when everyone's pouring their lives into generating profits for miserable employers who will never have enough,
when everyone's being driven mad by the pointlessness of a civilization built around wealth extraction,
when everyone's allowing themselves to be sedated into a coma so they can't experience their own despondency,
when the radiant authenticity of nature is paved over to build cinemas to watch CGI creatures in CGI worlds,
when the sacred song of the heart is getting drowned out by desperation for dopamine hits from strangers on apps,
when the causeless joy of being keeps getting lost to fear and insecurity,
it helps to have some grounding in the changeless.

In times like these
truth can sneak in
like a thief,
like a ray of light through the smallest crack,
like a children's cereal mascot finally nicking a bowl of that delicious sugary starch
(oh my god it's got marshmallows and turns the milk neon colors oh fuck oh god I'm cumming),
like a ninja,
like Batman,
truth can sneak in and bonk you on the head
leaving you unable to see anything but the primal oneness,
unable to remember how you ever got things so mixed up,
like Gilligan when he got hit with the coconut
(except good).

In times like these
no matter how fucked up you are
you can sometimes catch Buddha winking at you in the mirror.

In times like these
everything is so tenuous
that satori can come crashing in at any moment.

In times like these
Shiva can just get tired of putting on the act
and take off the you-mask and break character.

In times like these
anyone's petty and irrelevant natterings
can be interrupted by the hatching of their heart.

We are such weird, mascara-streaked, runny-nosed ape mutants.
We are sharp-toothed blood-splashing murder monkeys.
We are honey-hearted giants with galaxies in our eyes.
I really hope you know how beautiful you are,
no matter how hard things are
and no matter how hard things get.
You contain vast universes,
and I wish I could make full-length Broadway musicals out of all of them.
No matter what happens I will love you through and through
until the heat death of the universe
and beyond.

And we just might get our miracle after all,
beautiful ape mutant.
We just might get our miracle after all.
In times like these, anything is possible.
In times like these, anything can be.
In times like these, we've all got nothing to lose,
which means we've got nothing to lose
by leaping.

___________________

Reading by Caitlin Johnstone.

In Times Like These

The US empire is telling Moscow "I'm the craziest motherfucker around, I'll keep ramping up the brinkmanship looking you right in the eye and daring you to use nukes," while telling the rest of the world "I am the voice of sanity that you should all look to for leadership."

One of the empire's faces is the virtuous upholder of freedom and democracy, while the other face puts on an intimidating show of viciousness like a prisoner biting off someone's cheek in the prison yard. At least one of those faces is necessarily lying.

Reading by Tim Foley.

Let's Nuke The World Over Who Governs Crimea

Don't let the fraudulence of this civilization eclipse the supernova of authenticity hidden just beneath that thin membrane.

Don't let the vapid artificiality of mainstream culture cause you to miss the weird magic of life as it actually is.

Don't let the barrage of advertisements screaming "THIS IS NEVER ENOUGH" distract from the symphony of joy in your cells at simply being alive.

Don't let the nonstop corporate messaging that you are ugly conceal from you your radiant beauty.

Don't let the Valentine's Day products from Hallmark steal the spotlight from our wide open hearts and our roaring passion.

Don't let the authoritative dronings of the imperial pundits mask the fact that they are babies made of mysteries and stardust.

Don't let the feigned confidence of the people around you trick you into thinking that any of us really knows anything.

Don't let all the buildings and billboards make you forget that no matter where you go you are always in the thick of nature.

Don't let the deluge of lies and propaganda cause you to lose sight of the fact that they are trying to pour concrete over a bottomless abyss of truth.

Don't let the footsteps marching to the beat of the imperial drum drown out the ancient song at the heart of consciousness.

Don't let this civilization's insistence that you are finite delude you into missing your own boundlessness.

Where it seems like there is an absence of depth, there are depths that couldn't be explored in a thousand lifetimes.

Where it appears that there is an absence of truth, truth hides just behind the eyes which perceive this.

There are galaxies hidden in supermarket aisles. There are universes hidden in parking lots.

Just beneath the superficial phoniness, there's a reality that is older than the stars.

Just beneath the capitalist tedium, there's an endless fountain of amazement.

Just beneath the collective psychosis, there's an oddly familiar sanity.

Just beneath the indoctrinated familiarity, a real encounter is waiting to happen.

Just beneath the hopelessness of our current plight, a great power is cracking a smile.

___________________

___________________

___________________

Reading by Tim Foley.

Just Beneath

rock bottom—
river stones form
gentle waves

haiku by Luke Levi https://www.lukelevi.com/

picture by Nadine Marfurt https://unsplash.com/@nadine3

For more information visit http://www.naviarrecords.com/about/naviar-haiku

arch folk

halF rocK [naviarhaiku475]

“We had people taking apart Russian propaganda and telling the true story on blogs,” WaPo was told by a source described as "a person in the Special Operations community."

US special ops forces "employing Ukrainian operatives" to "take apart Russian propaganda" and "tell the true story on blogs" is just US special ops forces administering US propaganda online. Whether or not they actually see themselves as "telling the true story" or "taking apart Russian propaganda" does not change the fact that they are administering US government propaganda. A government circulating media which advances its information interests is precisely the thing that state propaganda is.

Reading by Tim Foley.

Pentagon Wants To Return Special Ops Propagandists To Ukraine

Ksc112 .wav

YouTube visualisation @ https://youtu.be/nyGcxSWLils

The rain is over:
South Mountain puffs out
Spring clouds.

(Tr. Sōiku Shigematsu)

haiku by Natsume Sōseki https://www.britannica.com/biography/Natsume-Soseki

picture by Daniel J. Schwarz https://unsplash.com/@danieljschwarz

For more information visit http://www.naviarrecords.com/about/naviar-haiku

visuals (YouTube)

halF pufF [naviarhaiku485]

The rain is over:
South Mountain puffs out
Spring clouds.

(Tr. Sōiku Shigematsu)

One of the most influencial modern Japanese writers, Natsume Soseki’s literary career started in 1903, with a series of haiku and renga published on various literary magazines. Between 1900 and 1903 he studied at the UCL in London, but this proved to be quite a dramatic experience for the young Soseki:

“The two years I spent in London were the most unpleasant years in my life. Among English gentlemen I lived in misery, like a poor dog that had strayed among a pack of wolves.“

Despite this, when Soseki returned to Japan he exploded into prolific writing activity.

the rain is over [naviarhaiku485]

next evening, another double guitar-moment

Acoustic Evening Session Pt. 2

This track is part of Athenian Truckstop Issue #4 Songs for Dreaming release, found here:
atheniantruckstop.bandcamp.com/album/iss…-dreaming

The theme was dreams

Todd Tuttle https://soundcloud.com/user-849753517-658869299 drumset, percussion, voices, whistling, words

@douglasmseidel: banjo, bass, beans, drum, cowbell, gong, organ, other stuff, penta guitar, toy piano, water jug


it started with a plastic 24oz jar
half filled with foamy yellow liquid and some very sticky residue at the top

tom of tom and jerry
fame
had one broken ear
and he was sitting on the ledge of the garage window

I can’t remember what I was doing

but I know I was wearing a
poultry keel necklace
that laid so elegantly
over my clavicles

every thought
every measure
gets bigger and faster
and further from the next

plumb shucks said thumb plucks
untuck that loose end of the dumpling lover
and wrap some warm rising dough around your head
dumb luck kept ducking under the fun chunks
until he realized he was bouncing on a shingle instead
he said that’s some kinda skipping slip of the bliss bud

chimichuck said to raisin brains

wrench mouth woman has a heart in her throat
with the wave of her stick arms she weaves me a coat
the birds that are flying carry sticks to her breast
crescent mouth moon lucky charms and the rest

sticky residue

Readings of all Caitlin Johnstone's articles, usually by her co-writer Tim Foley.