RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition who does all types of things, daily. The best place to get it right now is his Patreon or find his books at Amazon.

Monday, January 21

SONG OF THE DAY: Sound of Silence



Hot takes have gone viral this weekend, the sounds of silence slowly beaten into submission with the blunt object that is all of our individual sense of know-it-allness. We appear to be fucking doomed, maybe not to the horrible end but at least until the point of inflicting horrible traumas upon each other, because we are all so sure and right in our sureness and righteousness that we have to dehumanize each other entirely. This is not the way of any of our ancient elders, although likely the way of all most all our grandparents – at least those which were still there. The diminishing returns of civilization has created this powder keg America, which always had the powder from the very beginning of a constitution being applied to land that was conquested, but the keg seems to feel smaller than ever.
And yet it’s not. I’m sitting beside the ocean, I mean I’m in a room but the ocean is out there, making its healing sounds, and last night was a blood moon eclipse over the Earth, and we all stood – strangers and known folks alike – in the bitter cold wind to look up towards space and think “wow.” So we are doomed, but also not, because same innate shit still resides in all of our hearts, even if all the brains have become poisoned wells of no doubt. Fuck it. You can’t fight progress.

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