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Hippie Crap Saves The World

Wanna know what conservatives really hate ?
Hippie Crap Saves The World
By Mark Morford, SF Gate Columnist
 http://www.sfgate.com/columnists/morford/


Wanna know what conservatives really hate ?


What makes everyone from harmless GOP dittoheads to ultra-right-wing
nutjobs full of rage and hiss and homophobia and blind jingoism roll
their eyes and throw up their hands and scamper for their Bibles for
reassurance that life is still repressed and weīre still going to war
and Dubya is still smackinī īround the envurment along with them
wimmin and homosekshuls and furriners ?

Why, hippie crap, of course. New-age babble about love and peace and
godless pagan prayer, organic foods and sustainable trees and
chakras, divinity and luscious goddesses and soul paths and upping
your personal vibration to counter all the venomous hatred slinging
about the culture like some sort of conservative, fearmongering
weapon of mass depression. Man, they just hate that.

The incessant drive to war, the blank-eyed young soldiers, the drab
oil fields, the terse U.N. debates, Rumsfeldīs ink-black eyes, the
violence and 9/11 and Osama in hiding, Saddamīs sneering and Shrubīs
smirking and Dick Cheneyīs defibrillator cranking on 11 -- these
events are considered "real," they are tangible and raw and ugly and
happening right now and weīve got the pictures to prove it, all over
the media, grainy and grim and mean, CNN and Fox News and frowning
pundits and 100-point newspaper headlines, so you know it must be
true.

Then thereīs you, walking through your daily life right now, eating
and laughing and screwing and paying rent and thinking for yourself,
filtering the onslaught and trying to remain connected to something
divine and universal and authentic, all while straining to put this
national trend toward violence and warmongering into some sort of
acceptable frame.

You are not "real" in this same way. This is the feeling. Your
experience is somehow irrelevant; what you do and how you maneuver
this daily treachery is an insignificant side note to the big ugly
daily political machinations because hey, itīs war. Itīs the Big
Boys. Angry White Men with very serious penis issues. All that
matters is the machine, and the money, and the oil, and the WMD and
the drumbeat rhetoric.

Which is, of course, utter BS. Here is what conservatives hate most:
the idea that you really can, and do, make a difference. That you,
hopefully working to align yourself with something deeper and more
informed and perhaps not exactly Christian, or corporate, not exactly
lockstep mainstream flag-waving God-fearing asexual consumer drone,
you can affect the world, directly, right now, in ways you might not
even realize, in ways that make them tremble and wince, in how much
you laugh and love and eat and sleep and screw and breathe and in how
deeply you penetrate into the soulīs raison dīetre. But you gotta
work at it. And it ainīt easy. See? Fluffy new-age crap. They really
hate that.

Here is the great fallacy of the American ethos, the one that powers
SUV purchases and spawns a billion McDonaldīs franchises and gun
purchases and Adam Sandler movies: it is the notion that Americans
exist in a freewheelinī vacuum, that our daily choices donīt, in
fact, affect the world, and our neighbors, and our children, and the
environment and our own bodies.

It is the idea that those very choices -- foods you eat, cars you
drive, shows you watch, personal relations you have, waste you
create, choices you make -- canīt, in a very real and immediate way,
erode your divine links, spit on your spiritual spark, taint your
mystical meat. Every single one, every single time.

In other words, in buying that gun, smacking that child, abusing that
spouse, screaming at that neighbor, buying that thuggish SUV,
supporting that war, wishing death upon all them damn furriners, you
may think youīre exercising your God-given all-īMurkin right to
do/say/drive whatever the hell you want because youīre an American
goddammit and no one will tell you how to live so back off.

Not quite. Rather, you are also injecting a deliberate dose of bitter
bile straight into the cultural bloodstream, actually -- and quite
literally -- lowering the general vibration of the human collective
cause, casting your vote for small-mindedness and solipsism and
violence. Yep, you are. And yes indeed, your vote counts.

Here is the gist: The world consists of energy, billions of swirling
masses of it contained in living vessels -- thatīs you -- and aimed
out to the world, often radiating at random, intermingling,
interacting, often uncontrolled and unaware, an enormous dizzying
gorgeous complex kaleidoscopic organism of human interaction and
interplay. We are abuzz. We are electric. We possess actual psychic
and electromagnetic force. Duh. Itīs a fact.

It comes down to simple physics. Negative begets negative. Positive
begets positive. War begets war, peace begets peace, Britney begets
Christina begets NīSync begets People magazine begets "Joe
Millionaire" begets 10 million Prozac prescriptions begets a billion
dumbed-down mind-sets, embittered souls. In a nutshell.

ShrubCo blindly steers the nation like a giant careening Hummer
toward the history-mauling notion of preemptive violence, of
attacking anyone who might somehow threaten the U.S. even before such
a threat is tangible. He beats the war drum, staffs his
administration with enough hawks to start 1,000 wars, slams the
environment, cuts womenīs rights, etcetera and so on -- this all
turns that swirling mass of energy that much more dark, vicious,
angry, dumb.

And the world begins to follow. The culture darkens, people run
scared, reactionary, depressed. The negative feeds upon itself, the
tide turns, you are hit more and more frequently with that
overwhelming feeling that we are in dire and ugly and powder-keg
times, worse than ever, emotionally raw, politically appalling,
spiritually hollow. Sound familiar?

Whereas notions of peace, individual thought, reason, simple acts of
attuned mindfulness, of buying products and foods that sustain the
planet, of making really good messy enthusiastic generous love, of
regular laughter in the face of scowling Ashcroft or Cheneyīs
corporate henchmen, of reading deeply and recalling wisdom people
like the Dalai Lama talk about all the time -- these things literally
up your animaīs vibration, add positive energy back in, turn the
collective volume back up.

That postcoital buzz? That post-party feel-good vibe? That genuine
laughter? That gratuitously kind thing you did for that stranger?
That celebration of your body and your sex and love and spirit in
spite of mainstream religious puling and finger wagging? That deep
meditative solitude? Bingo. Thatīs the vibe you want. Thatīs the vibe
we all need. Thatīs the vibration that makes all the difference.

But itīs also the one that takes serious work and determination and
you gotta do it every single day and it can only come from you. This
sort of luminous divine power is messy and raw and hot and attaining
more of it can be the most difficult thing youīve ever done. But
really, what else is there?

Look. Mystics and healers and sages and scientists and philosophers
across the spiritual spectrum have known it for millennia: More
advanced and enlightened souls -- and cultures -- vibrate at a higher
level, a more bright and rigorous pitch. Itīs true. Bliss and joy and
notions of peace and healing and laughter and personal choice, these
things crank up the vibe. War and angst and fear and self-fulfilling
prophecies of war and preemptive strikes and Jenna Bush, these things
slam it down.

So then. You want to really annoy the conservative warmongering
powers that be? Work your ass off to pump up the vibration. Itīs
deeply personal. Itīs hard work. It means re-evaluating what you do
and how you do it and how you treat others, the planet, what you buy
and what you eat. It means learning. And it also means loving harder,
more raw and real, minimal BS, minimal waste, figuring out true messy
ugly slippery gorgeous divinity for yourself, on your own terms, and
then sharing it with the world.

Man, they really hate that.

homepage: homepage: http://www.sfgate.com/columnists/morford/

it just makes us laugh 02.Mar.2003 07:16

fdf

you bong-water brains with crystals, and pierced clits just make us laugh.

we can all use a good joke now and again.

we can't wait until March 15th to watch another freak show..

has anyone else noticed all the new trolls? 02.Mar.2003 14:09

deputy dawg

for a long time, PDX IMC was visited by just one or two trolls; FWR, Bush Admirer, etc. Now there's a whole new bunch, so many I can't keep track. Are they here because they are becoming frightened? I doubt they'd bother with IMC if they truly felt the unasailable correctnes of their ideas.

Yes, fdf, pretty soon you will be forced to smoke weed and have indescriminate sex with both men and women. You'll eat tofu and wheat roasts with extra Bragg's and stop shaving body hair. This is the new America, baby, love it or leave it.

Too bad it doesn't make them think 03.Mar.2003 13:42

che

There are probably more trolls because there has to be an increasing sense of panic amonst the empty warheads who are running/ruining our country. More and more "regular" Americans are waking up to the fact that their country is being led rapidly into a totalitarian state. How ironic that the anti-Big Government republicans are creating such an all pervasive and intrusive government structure like Homeland Security. Next they'll probably want to change the spelling of America to Amerika...more in keeping with their Nazi-esque goals. Perhaps if more of them actually read the Constitution and especially the Bill of Rights they'd really understand that the words "Support and Defend The Constitution of the United States" require you to stand up and say "No More" to the usurpers of Democracy who have taken control of our country.

trolls 03.Mar.2003 16:28

steve

There aren't more of them, or maybe there are, but each 4 or 5 screen names probably represent a single very lonely individual. I'm guessing that, it being spring time, the socially adjusted kids and potsmokers on the football team are out getting laid, thus increasing the tensions affecting the Anime Club, and hence their increased reliance on the internet for stimulation (and I use that word with all the juvenile connotations it carries). Come on; this isn't FBI-quality cointel/disinfo work; (I'd more readily suspect the 'Che-Leila Youth Brigades' poster of that affiliation) it's some pathetic, introverted adolescent and maybe one or two of his maladjusted friends trying to force someone to acknowledge his existence without incurring the risk of identifying himself and thus taking personal responsibility for his actions. These aren't CIA operatives; they're the names we'll be reading in the paper the next time one of them loses it playing too much CounterStrike and opens fire on his high school. The more we fulfill their pathetic delusions of grandeur, the more they'll keep coming back.