We like to wrap ourselves in security blankets. We cling to things that make us feel ‘secure’; our jobs our homes our religions our identities, or should I say, our identifications? To identify with ‘something’ separates us from ‘something else’, and while some of these separations are more ‘real’ than others (our separate bodies compared to our separate possessions, or professions), all physical and energetic forms are inherently temporal, therefore unstable and hence any felt separation, or even any unity that is felt, is ever elusive, since both are concrete realities.

The experientialization of our reality, then, can be discerned by one or both of these realities, to ever-varying degrees. So the question then becomes; which discernment is better? A hollow question, I know, but I asked it that way on purpose, because I want you to think of what your gut reaction was. Betterment is subjective, and idealism can twist it to its own needs. I say all this merely to point to the importance of realizing the origins and bases of our own ideas of ‘better’.

I, for one, cannot imagine life without my separations. That is, of course, because ‘I’ am the one making that statement, and ‘I’ have to seperate ‘I’ from ‘you’ in order to make the statement.

I cannot imagine life without my security blankets. My anxieties and fears and percieved separation from society manifests itself as a protective barrier that protects me from much human interaction. ‘I’ seem to need them even though I don’t want them. ’I’ would feel exposed, rather than liberated.

All the while I yearn to throw the blankets off but they can be too heavy. I do lust after detachment… of pure, unadulterated freedom, of a life lived free from suffering, of living in the space of no attachments, no responsibility, no failures, no successes, no fear, no hate, no love, nothing. Everything.

i was a guest once more on ‘useless thoughts and unremarkable opinions’ (episiode 34), where Jack and I may have been a little rough on the wonderful co-host linda, and i am very very sorry:
http://jacknemo.podomatic.com/

and i was also invited onto V-Radio to talk about my video’s on the zeitgeist movement, namely, ‘Capitalism? Epic Fail!’, along with fellow z-filmmakers tom vine and doug mallette :
listen here

also might as well throw in another reminder for peeps to check out my new other youtube channel (for video’s of my FACE and talking and music):
http://youtube.com/theinfinityes

But they are used to it. That doesn’t make it right, but it makes it easier, for me, mentally to accept. But today. On my walk home I walk past a church, and outside, I saw a kid, pegged him to be about my age, little younger maybe (late teens early twenty’s), clean clothes. I nodded to him and he started talking. As I took one headphone out of my ear I heard ‘…listen to me for a minute?’. I nodded.

He briefly told me that he was 15, that the day before his father had kicked him out of the house, the youth shelters were full so he spent last night outside (it’s already started snowing up here in semi-northern canada). By the time he was done talking I think he could see something in my face, because he immediately looked down and away. He didn’t even ask me for money, but I stammered an explanation ‘I have no money on me… I don’t really know what else I can do for you.’

This was a lie. I had $45 in my wallet. No. I have $45 in my wallet. It’s my last $45 until friday when I get paid again, unless I rack up some more on the credit card. But the look on his face when he knew I was rejecting him — before I even did… fucking tore my heart out. I literally got a little bit teary eyed walking home, because even if I need my money, I have a floor he could sleep on. I could’ve given him some food. Hell, I could’ve at least asked if he wanted to come in from the cold and smoke a joint or something.

These are all the things that were running through my head as I finished my walk home. I didn’t start the music again. I felt, and still feel guilty, with every moment that passes, because this happened less than half an hour ago. I know that if I went back there I could probably find him and do something.

But no, I’m trying to find comfort in an online post.

You know what it is? I think I’m scared. Of that kid. Or anyone, I guess.

I just don’t understand how someone as well meaning as me can lie to and ignore someone like that. If actions speak louder than words than my actions don’t speak well of me, in my eyes. I also don’t understand why I have to be scared of someone asking for help. My fears aren’t completely unfounded, but let’s be honest, I could see in this kids face that he really needed help. That he hated asking for it. He wasn’t used to it like all the other homeless people I meet. That familiar resigned look was not present in his eyes. I think he might have been lying, about his age, maybe the whole story, but it doesn’t matter. Nobody who isn’t desperate does what he did. Looked the way he did.

He didn’t really nod or say anything, just kept looking at the ground, frowning. I felt like I could watch his faith in humanity slipping from his grasp as I became the god knows how many-ith person to tell him ‘no’. I was simultaneously watching the system crush his spirit, and being the perpetuator of the system in this instance.

With everything I talk about egalitarian values and I make stupid videos about capitalism or whateverthefuck to ‘raise awareness’. And I’m not saying I don’t enjoy doing those things, and the fact that people enjoy them is just amazing to me, but when it comes down to it, when a real human being reached out to me for help today, I said no.

And I still feel a catch in the back of my throat, typing that out. Maybe the question I should be asking myself is not ‘who the fuck am I?’ but ‘who the fuck do I want to be?’

This is my new year. The middle of the summer is my birthday, and it used to be the divider between grades, so this time of year has always felt that way to me. This has always been my new year.

From tomorrow until next Monday I’ll have barely any cellphone service, definitely no internet access, and probably some chemicals flowing through my system, though I’ll admit, I’m not really the type of person who ‘parties’ very hard. This ‘retreat’ gives me the most of both socialization (there are people everywhere, friends, friends of friends, stranger friends) and contemplation, because inside the solitude of my tent, and even with the distant beat of four or five different stages at nearly 24 hours of the day, my mind is rarely so calm and clear.

Shambhala is a vibrant, and I’ll admit, sometimes overwhelming display of the human spirit. People there are rarely afraid to talk to strangers, they’ll make eye contact, we don’t know what it is, but when we’re there, we all understand it (anyone who’s ever done mushrooms or acid knows that feeling…), even if that understanding is sometimes fleeting, forever striving for it allows each new experience to teach me something. And shambhala is an experience I look forward to every year.

peace. be back on monday :)

and while I’m away don’t be scared to share any of these video’s and posts with your friends.

So I embraced my agnosticism, which by the time I graduated, had turned more into a quasi-spiritual pick and choose belief system when I got into mysticism and spirit guides and healing (note: not heavily into , I was just… browsing), and now my stance is basically… wait and see. But my intuition is that there is no afterlife.

The more ‘atheist’ I became, the more I began to feel free. There was no God watching and judging everything I do. I am the ultimate judge of myself. I am the only person with that power, truly. I once mentioned I was an atheist to a casual acquaintance and he said “…must be lonely sometimes.” I never looked at it that way. The only thing atheism has given me is less guilt, and a feeling of purpose.

I’ve been digging into Transhumanism for a while now, and I’ve become fairly persuaded by the evidence that we are developing technologies that will radically extend our lives (possibly until the end of the universe[or the beginning of the next one]). But lot’s of people like to say that this is nothing more than technologists wishful thinking, their own scientific version of religion, creating heaven on earth, rapture of the nerds some people have called it. And until I see the actual technologies working, on humans, I can’t have 100% confidence that they aren’t wrong. So what happens if I do die?

Well, I was an atheist (well, let’s say… 96% atheist. There’s always a chance the theists are right) before I stumbled upon transhumanism and my stance on death hasn’t changed much. If death is inevitable, then all that means is that this life is more precious. There is no garuntee, or even reason to think, that there is anything after this life. So make each moment count. And don’t worry about dying, because if you do die, you’ll either be starting on some great adventure, or you’ll be nothing, like before you were born.

I walked about a block or two, in no particular direction trying to pick a song. I wanted to find something to tell me everything was going to be ok. And so I hit shuffle and Time To Pretend by MGMT came on and I had to laugh, though despitte the ironic title it was exactly the song I wanted to listen to.

I made my way around down some streets I’ve never walked on and I saw this in the pavement:

and I stopped, smiled, took a picture. My iPod was playing A Perfect Circle now. I took a few more steps and saw this:

and for a minute I wondered if I had come across them in the wrong order, but decided it worked either way. Then I thought about how I wished there was some way I could show these pictures, and this site, to whoever did this. Prove to them someone noticed. I’m sure they’d like that.

I turned a corner and immediately saw this:

and was really taken with the beauty created by the contrast between the clear glass and the trees green trees. This beautiful infusion of nature and human ingenuity. I swear to God half a block down I see this on someone’s lawn:

I don’t know why someone tied a bow around some little plant, but it was the icing on the cake. I was in a better mood now. I walked back around a little more and headed home. I snapped two more pictures:

The first one I just liked because I know whoever did it was just having some fun. And in my eyes, they made the sewer drain look better. More fun. I just liked the flag because it was torn, and all sad and shriveled looking. I’m not a big fan of what flags represent.

So I got back home and had forty minutes left on my youtube upload. After it was done, it still didn’t work properly, so I gave up, as we all should after trying three times. I can always do it later.

been working on the new video, also just taking some time to pull back and decompress. love everyone.

complete site makeover (i know i said it before but it’s coming) and new videos all coming down the pipeline.

I’m talking to police officers, security enforcers, and anyone who feels entitled to hold authority over another person, because I know that you’re confused.

I’m talking to every working person who worries that without their submission to a corrupt government and labour system, their survival is at stake, because they aren’t wrong.

I’m talking to every person who feels restless, bored, or unhappy. People like to tell you that it’s your fault, that the problem lays with you. It doesn’t.

I’m talking to all who know something disgusting is going on, but don’t believe it will ever change. You’re wrong.

I’m talking to everyone who, very justifiably, fears for the future of our planet. Every day we are told how it, and we, might be destroyed, either through environmental disaster, or the dropping of nuclear weapons. They don’t talk about solutions, they don’t offer hope. I hope that I do.

Today I overheard a young woman telling a co-worker that she sometimes wakes up crying. She doesn’t know why, but she can’t help it. She recently emigrated here, she has a husband and two kids, and she didn’t understand how, with such a seemingly perfect life, she still spends mornings crying in the shower, before pulling herself together to send her kids off to school, and heading off to work.

It wasn’t my conversation to join, but I wanted to tell her that I understand. That her pain is justified, but that she has a choice, just as we all do, between fear and love.

And I refuse to be terrified.

Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can’t move.  Awake but cannot open my eyes.

And the weight is crushing down on my lungs, I know I can’t breathe
and hope someone will save me this time

and your mother’s still callin you insane and high, swearing it’s different this time.
And you tell her to give in to the demons that possess her.
That god never blessed her insides.

Then you hang up the phone and feel badly for upsetting things,
crawl back into bed to dream of a time when your heart was open wide
and you love things just because… like the sick and the dying.

and sometimes when you’re on, You’re REALLY fuckin ON
and your friends they sing along and they love you.
But the lows are so extreme that the good seems FUCKING CHEAP
and it teases you for weeks in its absence

But you’ll fight and you’ll make it through
You’ll fake it if you have to
And you’ll show up for work with a smile!
You’ll be better
And You’ll be smarter
And More grown up

And a better daughter

Or son

And a real good friend

And you’ll be awake
You’ll be alert
You’ll be positive though it hurts
And you’ll laugh and embrace all your friends

And you’ll be a real good listener
You’ll be honest
You’ll be brave
You’ll be handsome and you’ll be beautiful

You’ll be HAPPY

Your ship may be coming in
You’re weak but not giving in
To the cries and the wails of the valley below

And your ship may be coming in
You’re weak but not giving in
And you’ll fight it

you’ll go out fighting all of em

Please listen to this song  and tell me you aren’t moved.

Maybe it’s just me.