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By Punkerslut
Anarchos We the Governments, the Aristocracies, the Dictatorships, the Tyrants, the Totalitarians! ... and in every essence, every law and every government forms itself on the idea that it is to save the people. It is so impossible to think that the people may govern themselves. It's not about giving the people representatives. It's about giving people representing themselves. It's not about "We the People" written on paper, but "We the People" written on our hearts. It's not about our lives being decided by politicians and businessmen. It's about our lives being worth more than profits. And it's not about the claims that the people cannot handle governing themselves, but it's about our right to govern ourselves. As every government of every type claims to be the defendant of the people, we are tossed, turned, digested, and spewed. The dictator claims that citizens are not intelligent enough to make any decisions. The military general enforcing martial law will say that nobody deserves any rights, because a man with a gun who has been terrorized by war school should be given the daily right to control the lives of others. The senator, congressman, president are all just representatives. They have committed the worst atrocities on the planet. The line separating the dictator and the king and the president is a matter of language. Even in the United States, the leader is not chosen. George Bush was not elected by the people. The people chose someone else, and those who disagreed with the outcome were jailed. That's what it's about: military law. The few controlling and managing the many, bent on cruel and malign ends. And that's what Anarchos is about: no leader, but the people. Compassion Feeling sedated from the drugs, sometimes with a panic attack, sometimes with a hot flash, sometimes with excessive sweating, sometimes with all of the discomforts of hallucinogens, I feel that maybe this way of living is not entirely terrible. I can find so much beauty in the world, feel so much peace, things which the world without affection or reason (as ours) cannot give me. I can see the leaves of love and charity, gentling being caressed by the wind, dancing. When reality comes back, I am full of anger and tension again. Thoughts of violence come returning. Vengeance and hate walk hand in hand as my soul battles for control over my body. All the while, others suffer in even worse conditions. And sometimes it is their suffering which moves me so strongly to act for them, sometimes with disregard for the perpetrator. There will be a few who say that a perpetrator has no rights, but they may practically sentence traffic law violators to death if they so wish to be consistent. No crime, no atrocity, will be so grave as to deny the murderer, or the rapist, or the thief -- no crime will contain enough viciousness to fully deny that criminal any fairness or compassion. If we were to subject a rapist to rape, a murderer to murder, and a thief to theft, what will we have accomplished? Would we have reasonably demonstrated that affection and love are virtues? Would we have made arguments on behalf of humaneness? Certainly not... If an individual tortures a criminal for any crime, then all justice and compassion is lost. No matter what the crime, suffering is being inflicted, and no happiness is caused; death is praised, and life is vilified. By torturing a man and making the walls hear his screams, shaking the ancient tombs of fairness -- making them chipped, scratched, torn -- by torturing a human or an animal for whatever reason, then justice is already lost. Whatever pursued vengeance for the sake of justice is gone. Fairness is relinquished, kindness given to dust, reverence not within grasp -- these are the sacrifices to needless torturing. What torturer, filled with conviction that torture and needless suffering is a good punishment, supports love and charity? Where do their ideas on morality and ethics come from? From what strained swamp can they discover the beauty in affection? It all comes down to the fact that, if a criminal deserves no affection, then the innocent deserve no affection. If we are not to afford humaneness to the convicted, then no reason could possibly exist to afford humaneness to the unconvicted. The same suffering of a criminal in torture is the same suffering of an innocent being beaten or killed or raped -- it differs not from criminals. With what authority can someone honestly say that criminals cannot suffer the way innocent individuals do? With no authority can that be stated, because the kinship that exists between all conscious beings -- despite race, class, species, gender, conviction or innocent -- despite any arbitrary characteristic about us, we are all conscious beings, we are all capable of suffering, and this fact will not change until we are no longer conscious beings. It is by this principle, the creed of kinship, that I will forever abide, until my body becomes dust. Regardless, we can all suffer, and it is this that we can all understand, and that is why we find it natural to offer compassion to our brothers and sisters. I am an Atheist, a Vegetarian, a Socialist, and a Free Lover. Punkerslut, Tuesday, September 24, 2002 10:52 P.M. Logic Unfinished thoughts... By Punkerslut -- ended on 11:00 P.M. on Friday, September 13, 2002 If we were scientists or historians or researchers, or a member of another group of investigators, and we wished to discover the truth about some controversy, we would always begin with using Reason as our foundation for research. By Reason, I mean we would use our sensory perception, we would look for evidence, we would seek out logically coherent arguments. We would not believe something if someone said, "I believe it because of Faith, because I have no evidence." We would look for eyewitness testimony, observations, articles of evidence, and when all such data was recorded, we would weigh the evidences against the chance of them being mistaken, planted, or otherwise obstructed. By doing all these things -- observations, questioning, logical deductions, collection of data -- we are using the principle of Reason, in that we look for proof for something to be true. However, this brings us to our next question. What makes us believe that Reason is true? Before we even answer this question, there is an observation that ought to be noted. The question is this: What evidence is there for us to believe that Reason is true? This question can be simplified, though: What evidence is there for us to believe that evidence is true? Immediately, as we ask this question, we are already assuming that when we find evidence of something, it is likely to be true, which is the question at hand. We may ask, "Why is Reason true?" and we run into the same problem. We are searching for reasons to prove that the system of searching for reasons is justified. If we are to prove something, then we are to do so without it at its base core. An example of this would be someone saying, "The Bible is true." I could ask, "How do you know this?" If they respond, "Because it says so," then they are using the Bible to support itself. Similarly, when we ask, "Why does the system of Reason hold any merit? What evidence is there?" we are looking for reasons to believe Reason (or the system of finding proof to support our claims), and therefore are already using Reason in the investigation of the credibility of Reason! But even this, the disallowing of circular reason (as the analogy of the Bible I presented) is disallowed within the realm of Reason. It is by the systems of Logic and Reason that we can conclude that Circular Reasoning is unreasonable. If someone says, "I believe in the Bible because god tells me to, and I believe god tells me to because the Bible says so," they are guilty of Circular Reasoning. Circular Reasoning is unreasonable on the foundation of Reason. So, when we go on our search for evidence to discover the truth, we find that the system of finding evidence to support our beliefs is accepted with criticism. Then, when we ask why Reason is right (the method of finding evidence to support our beliefs), we are thus using Reason to criticize Reason (finding evidence to support the idea that finding evidence is true). It is this, which is Circular Reasoning, which is shown to be an inaccurate method of obtaining knowledge -- as demonstrated by Reason. However, this idea that Circular Reasoning is an inaccurate method of obtaining knowledge is based in the concept of Reason and finding evidence. So, when we go to search for why we ought to believe Reason, or we search for evidence for the system of using evidence for finding truth, we run into Circular Reasoning (which is using a principle of the thing we are investigating to prove what we are investigating -- in this case, using evidence to prove the system of using evidence). But without Reason being accepted at this point (Reason stating that Circular Reasoning is inadequate), Circular Reasoning would be allowed logically. One may point out that such would be close to a contradiction or inconsistent, as in this case we would be using Circular Reasoning to prove Reason, which states that Circular Reasoning is inadequate for finding truth. This is analogous to someone saying, "My religion states that we should never lie and I will be able to prove the verity of my religion to you," and then the individual goes on to use and manipulate lies to prove their religion. Someone may state that this is unreasonable, but when we are interrogating Reason, without using Reason, then there is no established truth that states that inconsistency or contradictions are wrong. Though this is only an observation of Circular Reasoning and proving the idea of Reason (which itself is founded on the idea of proof and proving), though this may be true, I am not promoting the usage of Circular Reason to prove Reason. Punkerslut, Child Abuse "Yeah, you know the kid from the book, 'A Child Called It'?" John said, "I was that kid with my family." "Haha," I said, "Yeah, I was like that with my family, too. Always abusive, always hitting, and -- of course -- personal degradation of my character from those who are supposed to love me." "They always come in with the personal remarks and the humiliation," Lenny said, "If they didn't, it wouldn't really be Child Abuse!" He shrugged his shoulders and we laughed. "And then they try to make it confusing," John said, using holding his hands out flat parallel to each other to help demonstrate, "They'll say they love you and then beat you up, saying they do what they do because they love you." "Ahaha," Lenny said, "Yeah, or, 'This is for your own good!'" "Bwahahahahah," I said, "Yeah, and my favorite is, 'These are the best years of your life!'" "Ahahahahahaha," John said, choking, "That's the best one, yet, Punker. THE BEST!" Punkerslut Wednesday, November 6, 2002, 7:17 P.M. Democracy What honest man can oppose Democracy and all of its social functions? Who can say, with social justice as their primary concern, that a man has no right to govern himself? Who can say that only one man has the right to govern all? Whether elected or born into their place, a leader is incapable of leading, be they called king or president, monarch or governor. "Power to the People!" Such a simplistic idea, but every leader of every nation will fight it, so much as they are fighting for their own wealth and their own power. They massacre every child who gets in the way, torture men and women who interfere, and will commit every cruelty imaginable upon the bleeding face of truth, just so that they will remain forever in power. Hundreds of police officers and thousands of soldiers will be called to arms, just so that they can keep their precious leaders in power. And so the rulers and the Capitalists combine their powers together, to control the workers and suppress solidarity, we discover one immutable truth: those who do not destroy power are destroyed by power. Punkerslut Tuesday, November 5, 2002 Recreational Drug Use How can they honestly tell me that a recreational drug habit is unhealthy? I believe it is healthy to engage in recreational drugs, whilst they do not. The reason for this is not difficult to decipher. They measure health in blood pressure and weight. I measure health in happiness and in how good I feel. Punkerslut Wednesday, November 6, 2002, 12:04 A.M. Me and My Friend He's lying on the ground, partly covered in a sleeping bag. As he softly tosses and turns, the moonlight pouring over his body through the window without hindrance. The moans and sighs gently matching the sounds of the softest music: the chirping of the crickets, the occasional runner outside, the common police siren. As he lies there, beside the cheap motel bed that he fell out of, I realize that I am right there on the floor with him. Staring at the ceiling, the chipped paint, mixed with dreams that broke down long ago, I can notice that the fade has already torn our souls from us, and there is no tomorrow, just like there was no yesterday. Pill bottles align the floor, making a pattern resembling hell... or death... or suffering. I don't know. The designs of birds on the quilt I'm sleeping in aren't enough to mourn the passing of our meaning, of our purpose. And though I know there have been thousands of rednecks to sleep in the same motel in the same bed, I also know that they are not the reason why being here makes me sick. I am lying next to my dead friend dead. His body breathes, contracts with the function of his diaphragm, but he is gone. So am I. I once liked who I was, almost a sort of pride that I could understand myself as a person and love what I did. I don't even know who I am anymore, with the things I've done and the things that have happened. And I think, sometimes, that the things I've said may have been harsh. Every relationship ending in a roar, an explosion, an imperfection, and then loneliness. Pitch dark loneliness. Only more drugs. I want more. That's all I want. I just want more. Nothing could sooth me more, could give me that sort of happiness, but the pills, the small spots of happiness in this mess of a life I have. I spent the last $15 I had on this motel, where we each had a bottle of Robitussin that we stole from CVS. Tomorrow night they'll kick us out, and we'll have to sleep on the street again. I don't know what we'll do. I don't know where we'll go. And I don't know how we'll manage. "Are you awake?" he eyes open, as he swallows and takes a breath. "Yeah," I said, already having taken a seat on a chair, "I'm here." "How's it going?" he asked. I turned my head, "Same." "That was great," he said, obviously liking the experience. Punkerslut, Saturday, October 12, 2002 New Intro 3 The bloodshot eye of authority watches its citizens, documenting, observing, and recording. As the ill intentions of these figures fades beyond the drapery of secrecy and ignorance, a malevolent hand controls the people. These people find themselves doing, saying, and acting things that they would have never done if they were sane and free, and it is this hand -- the hand of ignorant convictions, of faithful superstitions, of outrightly cultic creeds and social requirements -- that guides us to put on a plays in the theater of life. Drawn between the tragedies and comedies, between the infinite number of characters and the slowly receding belief that anything can happen, we find that we are happy and sad because we have to react that way. The script is already written, as we play out in this endless tragedy. The road to salvation, just another title for how to walk discover truth, has been hammered to dust with the tools of Fascism and brutality. Every seed of hope has been smothered, every flame of ingenuinity has been put out. Becoming more and more what authority wants us to be, becoming less and less individual, we find ourselves in this world where we believe only what is pleasurable to us, without question, without inquiry. We have filled our lives with the products of Consumerism, but they can only exist to fill the void left by the absence of truth, individuality, and Freethought. I Feel Like Crying (New Intro 4) I feel like crying... just so I can be reintroduced to the feeling of compassion from a friend. But I am not sad enough to cry, the daggers of depression are not deep enough in my soul to cause any mortal pains. I am not lonely enough to need reintroduction to those sentiments of comradery and companionship. But every day that goes by without the gentle caress of sincere affection, without the physical embodiment of love and kindness, every day that goes by without the manifestation of friendship and charity is a day without the fruits of romance, it is a day that has not visited the realm of happiness and warmth. To feel the sincere hands of remorse holding me is the most honest form of love and comradery, and it is for this reason that I feel like crying. Not so that I can see what sadness is like, but so I can be reminded of what physical friendship is like. So I can revisit the trials and tribulations which have faced me and those I have traveled with. So I can remember what it's like to feel the richest man on the Earth, only with the greatest of friends. So I can remember when my hands were clenched tight around the problems of survival, so I feel again the natural adrenaline flowing through my body, so I can see again the expression on the faces of my allies as we work and bind together... and so I can feel their sweet embrace again, knowing that life still exists, and we are still together. I feel like crying, but in this state of affairs, I don't think it's possible. [Tuesday, October 29, 2002.] New Intro 5 I've written to say that I've gone to a place where happiness is not a perennial flower, where the ill disease of depression infects none, where the illumination of a sun of knowledge is not darkened by the ghosts of superstition. I've gone to a place where the babes sleep with the stillness of the night, where the children play with as much vitality as life, where we indulge our lusts without inhibition, where we show affection and trust to those who have offered reverence and kindness. I've gone to a place where the sorrows of regret are a thing of literature, where the bridge to my future is not parted, where the aid of friends is not far. I've gone to a place where I can sleep on any roof, eat out of any dumpster, and live among my friends in these days like they are our last -- the romantic beauty of our relationships only strengthening our love and affections for each other, our open hand kindness to stranger only enhancing our bond together as Humanitarians, and our desire to reform the world to a better place only another sign of our undying friendship. Friends, brothers, sisters, I love you with all my heart that I can! If there is one godless prayer, one family chant, one reasonable conviction, it be this: that our days are full of ecstasy and kindness, duty and purpose, love and life! And when I speak of duty, understand that I think of reforming the hearts of our fellow men, giving them Reason and Humanity, a sense of meaning! So though the sun will set on our lives in the many years to come, it will rise on another generation of lovers and thinkers, of men and women with unparalleled generosity and beauty, and nothing between them and their unbridled pursuit for justice, truth, knowledge, peace, freedom, love, and well-being! Punkerslut,
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