September 16, 2019 · 0 Comments
By Constance Scrafield
We are awash in hyperbole. It fills our senses and and fogs our vision like swimming in a sea that is too warm and in which we can barely keep to the surface, so that our lungs are sucking it in and our fears alone are keeping us afloat.
Yet, we are bombarded with sincere exaggerations that are completely true so that our abilities to distinguish the big, heavy truths from the endless technics of lying make us want to sleep away this nightmare and think our own thoughts, hoping our own brain will be kind to us.
Still, there is always calm in very depths if we can go that far, a quiet place to assimilate and try to understand.
All this is equally inflicted on our children who are no longer allowed to be young but must grow up immediately under the stream of information pushed on to their baby brains. It’s impossible for them rise above the shouting, the speeding colours, the senseless ideas. They require tranquility in which to grow and that is stolen from them at birth.
At our soul’s depth, our natures rebel, in one way keeping us a little sane; in another, seeking anarchy since the rules are so badly bent. The young people demand action from their preceding generations but those who have laid down the damage have and are profited/profiting from it it so profoundly and are so comfortable with it that they turned their faces and shrug in apathy at the idea of making change.
Some of them, still young enough to have possible years to live, even those with their next generations clustered around them, whose world they have ruined and are continuing to destroy, even those care nothing about the future they are creating for their loved ones. All they can see is the profit piling up until the day the harm is bigger and the earth collects on their debts.
In order to quell the demands, the pleas and those providing answers, the establishment hold meetings, endless meetings, at which the truth of exaggeration and the lies in the hyperbole are bandied about, and exchanged as if they were the same, in order to add to the confusion and keep the populace guessing and still misinformed and over-informed.
In all this, there are monsters, bending the ears of the of the poorly educated, leading them with whining voices, encouraging their ignorance with praise for them, love for them, which are more lies.
Strangely, many of the answers, the shafts of true light are remarkably simple. In more spots of the earth than one might suspect, the changes that need to be made are being made. The understanding of profit being in all things: energy making is necessarily a place of employment and – perhaps smaller – profit, even if procuring it does no harm to the planet.
Feeding all the living things in this world is necessarily a matter of having jobs to offer and profit, where growing things organically has been proven to be more efficient and produce better crops.
Imagine working with nature to grow food – what is rarely but increasingly done is clearly shown to be the best way.
The changing methods of growing food will lead to the food itself, where the taste of real food becomes fashionable and the weighty salts and fats are rejected by our palettes as odious because fresh and natural is delicious. Suddenly, we ourselves are better off because we have stopped ingesting chemicals, stopped smoking, stopped consuming harm, simply because we have lost the taste for it and we have stopped listening to the hype. Hype is rarely concerned with truth.
To manufacture items of every kind, to organza transportation, to decide on the shape of the dwellings in which we will live will always require the skilled hands to make them but the profit, while still a guarantee, must be much, much less, for the philosophy of quality in construction and manufacturing which, now, makes few or no concessions to the environment and is never designed to last must turn on a great pivot 180 degrees, back thousands of years to the times when things that were built are still standing.
The newest and, on some level, most harmful is the psychological pollution that is rampant and all but unavoidable, in that the whole population of the world – just about – has bought into it. Here the profits are so nearly uncountable as to be almost impossible to imagine.
The clear picture of our oceans’ and they that swim within them, are dying is in exact parallel with the hypothetical ocean engulfing us, addicting us to a nothing, really, a zany interchange of communication that is so harmful, people kill themselves; so pleasant, people can barely stop engaging. Like the salt water oceans, the hypothetical ocean is out of control, except in some measure by those who have understood its unlimited profitability.
With unlimited profitability comes unlimited control. We can only pray there will be benevolence and wisdom in there.