RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition who publishes zines & physical books & electronic books & music & photography & digital art & just generally whatever feels necessary to survive this deluded earth thru Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts survival systems (Version 69, establish 14 Feb 1973). Comments encouraged.

Tuesday, June 28

J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown - June '11 Intro


June is here and June is almost gone and it is the beginning of summer though summer humidity arrives earlier and earlier each year it seems as I get older, and I am accustomed to putting in the window units earlier without hassle because the Owl and the River cannot function well in extreme heat, though it upsets me because I do not like the catacomb nature of an old farmhouse with window units loaded up like homemade hollow points in a six-shooter, as the house becomes separate from the outside. The AC in my truck died and I am refusing to fix it because I feel that if the faith of science is informing us correctly for once on this global warming trend, then it is my duty as a human being of the animal world to condition myself as much as possible to harsh heat waves, to initiate the process of adaptation so that my offspring - even though I am done with that - are more apt to survive. Most of us fat, smooth-handed Americans live a conditioned air lifestyle, from vehicle pod to workplace cubicle to home environment, all of it with air reconditioned and cooled or heated to dull our sensory spectrum.
So it is June, it is hot, and it is storming. Rivers are flooding and nuclear plants are exploding. Man is dying and man is adapting. I say to you dear friend of Rojonekku, take yourself outside, sit in the sun, listen to some music, sweat, suffer, remove articles of clothing (as much as you feel comfortable with), enjoy yourself - and by that I mean your "self". If you live close enough, go dip yourself in the re-ionizing waters of the various oceans on this earth, though you should probably beware of the Pacific because the full impact of Fukushima is not yet known, and will probably never be revealed until we are all dead, and then the last ten people will have the last remaining bureaucratic overlord admit some mistakes and then shoot three of the people to feed the other seven. Or more likely shoot seven to feed three.
The symbolic frenzy of 4th of July is almost upon us in America, and as you pretend to be free - and that is no political statement or me trying to be all "lolol sheeple" at you - try to be free. Detach from your smart phone shackles, and unplug as much as possible inside the house. Carry an old chunk of bald tire, preferably without exposed steel cables. The rubber is a great blocker of harmful EMF rays. In fact, I encourage you all to make homemade sandals out of an old tire just like an old Vietnamese lady would do, and just walk down whatever road you live on that hopefully doesn't have so much traffic you could get killed by a logging truck. I prefer night time strolls along the median strips of the interstate because it's a calmly wild place with very little, if any, large threatening wild life, and there's a strange meditative nature to getting pricked by blackberry bushes and sharp pine needles when you are hiding from what might be a cop while a constant mechanical bzzzz and rush of machines goes on along both sides of you. This is very much like conditioning yourself by sitting outside in the sun, yet you are conditioning yourself for the world we are already trapped in. The best access points are wherever the interstate overpasses a lower road or train track or river with two separate bridges, because often times you can climb up the embankment between bridges from underneath without jeopardizing yourself to Predator Drone attacks by crossing the actual interstate asphalt, which is speckled with the glass shards of obsolete slave eyeballs.
FIRST UP: A band so simple in nature that it gave itself the simplest of names!

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