Whatever it was that's been inflicting my housemates over the past few days has found its way into my system. It hasn't been enough to incapacitate me, but it's been damn annoying. An "almost" sore throat on Wednesday and Thursday. An endlessly runny nose today; I blew and wiped it so many times that the skin there feels sore. Now, my vaguely insomniacal tendencies prevent me from sleeping, though I'm not quite awake either.

I credit what I believe to be my fairly strong immune system for the fact that I've been able to make it to work the last few days (both the paid and non-paid variety).

I seem to be in one of those phases during which writing does not come naturally. Witness the lack of frequent updates here.

...

Witness the lack of sentences and paragraphs being typed over the past couple minutes.

Yet I hate when my site goes weeks without me posting anything of significance. I don't want to abandon my readership. So...

Update on the job decision: I've decided to continue with the status quo for a while longer. Reasons.... The summary might be, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." I'm lazy. Also, the fact that upon my return, more than one person at the gas station (including the manager) went out of their way to say, "It's really good to have you back." And I believe they meant it.

It's not time to change yet.

Also, volunteering at Open Harvest on Wendesday, I felt like I was exactly where I belonged. As a volunteer. People there welcomed me back, and it was good to be back. So I'll keep coming back, contributing a few hours a week, buying food, and building community ties as best I can.

A few days ago, I was rereading Running Towards the Bomb in its printed form. When I first read the online version months ago, I remembered finding it very inspiring. Part 3, especially so. But in the time since, I had forgotten many of the specifics.

My conscious mind had completely let go of the part where he talks about building your Invisible Gnostic Underground as an ideal way to prepare for the Slow Crash. When I read it back in April, I went, "Wow, that's awesome stuff." In fact, it was so profound that I set an imperative to myself that this is what I need to do, and integrated it into my core. Once that was done, the words faded, and were obscured from memory.

I hadn't lost the message. But just as we don't go around saying to people, "Hi, I'm building an Invisible Gnostic Underground to prepare for the Slow Crash. Want to join up?", I needed to let the concept, as such, slip from my mind. The Invisible Gnostic Underground does not exist. There is no such thing. Just like that, the very words were lost from me, even as their substance became my mission.

Now, for better or for worse, with the printed word recalled on the page, the concepts and words have returned to me. For better, I think. Here's why:

As signs of the Slow Crash speeding up become more evident, it's easy to fall prey to anxiety and fear. Though practical down-to-earth advise, such as the type Ran gives here to panic-stricken readers, is certainly a good idea, I think it's also helpful to understand our role in the bigger picture. Something to give us a context beyond mere day-to-day survival.

The Invisible Gnostic Underground. Maybe the words conjure no meaning for you. That's ok. If so, forget them. They have a resonance for me. I shall continue to endeavor to build the Invisible Undeground. At the same time, it might be just as well for me to forget them for a while again too, but not altogether. Moment-by-moment, let the present supersede the metaphor. But every now and then, when I need to be reminded why I do what I do, the words (and the story behind them) are there to guide me.

Jesus said, "If those who lead you say to you, 'See, the kingdom is in the sky,' then the birds of the sky will precede you. If they say to you, 'It is in the sea,' then the fish will precede you. Rather, the kingdom is inside of you, and it is outside of you. When you come to know yourselves, then you will become known, and you will realize that it is you who are the sons of the living father. But if you will not know yourselves, you dwell in poverty and it is you who are that poverty."

Gosepl of Thomas 3

This evening, while thinking about going to sleep, I listened the final installment in the series of Doug Dowd lectures that have been running on Unwelcome Guests (hour 2). It turned out to be a terrible cure for insomnia, as I found myself wide awake and listening intently within minutes.

He talked about how, if we are to create a better society, we need to first "disenthrall" ourselves from the story of America we've been told by the culture. The man does tend to go into lots of little side tangents, but maybe that's what makes his talks so interesting.

3/4ths of the way through, Yanthor knocked on my door and asked if I wanted to watch anything. I told him I was probably going to go to sleep before long, and was actually quite enjoying the Doug Dowd recording. He said he would probably watch the Daily Show before bed.

I listened to the remainder of the lecture, and decided to join Yanthor for whatever was left of the Daily Show.

Before I go on, I just want to make clear that I think John Stewart is awesome. He is one of the most articulate and sensible voices in mainstream politics of our era.

That said, I find it incredibly sad that, with a few rare exceptions, the only avenue through which honesty is allowed into the big media is a freakin comedy show. I admit that there is a certain funniness about the way George Bush continues to push the same tired old lines about terrorism and Al Quieda in an attempt to distract people from his many failures.

But I have to wonder... Are we, as a country, ever going to get past the laughing, stop to think a moment, and say, "Wait a minute. This isn't funny. This is worse than sad. We have a so-called 'President' who is RUINING this nation. And we will not stand for it another second."

I want to see military officers with a conscience realize what is at stake, and disobey their orders to bomb Iraqi villages. I want to see the nation's poor rise up and forcibly evict the crooks at Enron and Halliburton from their mansions. I want to see Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld, Ashcroft, and Gonzalez put on trial for their war crimes.

I'm tired of cynical laughing.

Ok, so true justice is obviously too much to expect at this point, and I probably got a bit carried away there. Honestly, I believe there is a theraputic value to humor in the face of hopelessness. But there has to be more than that. If all we do is laugh, nothing changes.

OTOH, getting oneself into a foaming rage doesn't really accomplish anything either, does it?

I guess my problem is that in the mainstream, serious voices are cast aside in favor of pithy soundbite-based editorial shows (like the one Stewart himself so famously went on and trashed), and the best they seem able to come up with is the Daily Show, which isn't even classified as real news.

And then there's Pacifica. Serious, unembedded, honest-to-goodness journalism. If they seem to have a heavy liberal slant, it's only because facts from the front line make the corruption glaringly obvious. Confronted directly with dead bodies, tortured prisoners, widespread poverty, and other glaring injustices, how can anyone give a "balanced perspective?" (Hell, even the Fox News people had trouble with that one.)

According to a slashdot comment I read a while back (so I take it with a grain of salt, though it sounded reasonable enough), in every market nationwide where a station broadcasts a Pacifica feed (most often the flagship program Democracy Now, though there are an assortment of other Pacifica network shows), they consistently end up dead last in the ratings. Since they are funded by listeners, not advertisers, and a significant percentage of the few who do listen tend to be generous contributors, they manage to stay on the air. But at the absolute bottom of the ratings pool. Why?

The most obvious answer leads to an uncomfortable conclusion. The "market" is not interested in real, honest journalism. The "market" would rather be lulled to sleep. The "market" prefers to learn about the latest whiz-bang laser-guided missiles and tanks, but it would prefer not to see the corpses that are left in their wake.

Also, the "market" also doesn't mind laughing at what an idiot George Bush is, but the market doesn't want him to be confronted directly on either his incompetence or his criminal behavior.

Who is the market?

Obvious answer: The American people.

Is this true? Are we a nation full of fools? I'd rather not think so. If we are indeed surrounded by morons, how does this fit into the picture of building an Invisible Gnostic Undeground? Or, getting away from the abstractions, how can I interact with random people on a daily basis without harboring resentment for "them" collectively?

This brings me back to what Doug Dowd was talking about, when he said he believes that most Americans are basicly decent people, yet it presents a dilemma when we try to resolve that against the country's vile history of racism, slavery, and genocide, which continues into the present. He pointed out that most people are ignorant and niave about the uglier side, but you don't win many friends in most crowds by saying that.

That would be another way to explain why Pacifica doesn't do well in the ratings. In my experience, they don't hesitate to point out the nasty stuff (all the more so because it's what the rest of the press tends to ignore), and thus could easily be seen as anti-America because of it.

Blah. How did I get into this babbling? It's 3am!

I wanted to be asleep. But sleep does not seem to be coming tonight. I could go back to bed and try again, but I don't want to leave this one hanging. Now it seems as if there's more to be said, even though I've gone on too long.

I guess there really isn't. And my head is hurting. I don't even know if I'm depressed, or content in life. I don't know if I'm really tired and denying it, or feeling naturally awake and thinking I "should" be tired because of the time of day. I don't know if I want to go out and embrace the great wide world in all its cold bitter glory, or curl up into a fetal position and sink deeper and deeper into myself. Paper flowers.

I'm tired of bullshit. I'm tired of fakeness. Yet everywhere I go, it surrounds me, and is in me. Perhaps I need to meditate. And later, read Alchemy for the Braindamaged again. There is wisdom there.

How 'bout this:

Fuck all of you and fuck all your bullshit.

I needed to write that. Now I feel a little better.

There is nothing more to add.