RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Saturday, January 11

SONG OF THE DAY: King of the Swamp Rats


PPL PROCLAIM POLITICS IS EVERYTHING BUT I COUNTER THAT WITH FUCK Y'ALL SHUT UP.
I was at the Goodwill yesterday and there was a quaint Fluvanna County Virginia America family, dad in fascist iconography t-shirt, faux tiny military back pack with American flag in olive green patch on it. The mom was bulging at her leggings, the smiling weasel face of pre-diabetic judgement. And the boy was a monstrous young teen, smiley with dimples, both he and pops wearing Houston Astros hats. They were so perfectly rural suburbs, so perfectly making America great again quietly, but the dad was friendly with the older African-American checkout woman, and the mom said "Bye Shirley!" to the old dusty woman in line behind them, in front of me. The line was long because only the one checkout woman, but a seemingly young gay whiteboy came out and cleared all the hangers off the counter to open the second register, and checked me out. I got a cheap ass Adidas jacket, to sew a baphomet back patch on, plus put DIRT GOD on too. Everybody was friendly, doomed, and trying to find pleasure in a world gone simultaneously mundane but entirely fucked. All our digital opiates were briefly not in the front of our mind, and everything was fine to be honest.
As I drove off I thought a lot about the smiling dimpled teen boy, giant for his age, babyfaced, and such a sweet nature. How do we let people like that remain sweet, and not poison them with all our toxic shit, including the shit that claims it's a reaction to the obvious toxicity? America is fucked at such a deep psychological level a lot more has to happen than just elect a fuckin' socialist wannabe. And I don't have the answers either, never claimed to. Shit, I'm not even all that smart I've come to realize. I've stumbled through life, simple as fuck, blind half the time, and half-blind the rest, and all I want is some peace. For all the transmogrification of idealistic shit into warped corporate oligarchies that America has become at this point, such a young empire so deluded with its own permanence, one of the best that got written likely as propaganda but fuck it remains true is "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." Like every basic foundation to all religion, all nation-statism, all if it just wants those things. Let me be alive, let me feel like I can do some shit, and let me fuckin' be happy. I'd say America right now has me feeling like 1 out of the 3 (life) and since it's only one, that one feels compromised as fuck most days. How must it feel to the young, not the always hyped (for marketing purposes) millennial class, but the younger than that, kids still developing who they are in this constantly buzzing over-"connected" world. Every day I pray/hope/holler at the sky for the buzzing to shut the fuck up and there to be some quiet, and then hopefully peace. Just some simple ass peace and quiet.

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