I've been meaning to do this for a while, but this clever individual did it for me. This may seem long but is very worth the time. Read each word and think.
Please Shut Up And Vibrate Already
Because you just know it's not all
toxic war and BushCo and homophobic senators, right?
By Mark Morford
So you look straight out into that
winking sunset or up at that
star-gashed sky or over at that
frolicking goofy mutt in the park or at
that funky yellow Mini Cooper or deep
into the rich burgundy flesh of that
goblet of wine or over at the soft
gorgeous rhythmic rise and fall of your
lover's chest as s/he sleeps and you
think, this is proof, isn't it?
This is proof that there's something
more, something richer and more divine and far, far more profound and
enthralling and cosmic and worthy and wet and delicious about this damnable existence, right? You can just feel it, that divine kick, that lick, that juice? Of course you can.
You just know, in other words, that
this can't be all there is.
Surely, you think, it's not all smirking inarticulate presidents and gutted economies and bogus wars and
international resentment, factories
belching venom into the sky and the
oceans with decreasing federal
restriction and increasing corporate
Surely it's not all rabid psychopatriots and fear-happy Bible huggers and homophobic Republican senators promoting their tyranny of sexless ignorance, garbage-food conglomerates consciously poisoning the population with toxic foodstuffs far more full of synthetic goo and Agent Orange by-products and bioengineered rat dung than actual food from which the body can draw life and energy and funk and satisfied karmic burps.
You think: No way can it be all about
thuggish 8 MPG SUVs and inexplicably dying sea otters and 45 percent of the country actually believing Saddam Hussein was directly responsible for
9/11. Can it?
Millions of people invoking the name of God as justification for war and hate and death, more homeless, more poverty, more rampant population growth, more
bitch-slapped civil rights, political
corruption and bizarre viral disease
and Dick Cheney making you question the very definition of sympathetic animate biped?
Because it's just so easy to forget.
It's so easy to let the crush and rush
and chain-saw babble of the world, of the major media's prepackaged hysteria, overwhelm your senses and numb your id and pile-drive your innate ability to look, really look at the world around you, and ultimately let them effectively asphyxiate what you deeply sense to be true.
Not simply that everything is
connected. Not simply that there is a
throbbing pulsing extant ever-present
scientifically proven energetic vibration to every damn thing on the
planet, animate and inanimate,
breathing or not, each and every
organism radiating forth its sacredness and its profanity and just waiting for you to raise your consciousness just a little so you can receive your divine epiphanic ass-slap.
It's not just that. It's that you,
right now, at this moment, are much
less removed from those pulsing
vibrational things than They want you
to believe. You are closer than you
Here is the basic formula: The more
They get you to ignore and detach from and hurl sticks of dismissive ignorance at that divine interconnectedness, the
more you feed the common tyranny of fear, the collective cultural moan, and the easier it is for corporations and the government and the masters of televised dread to convince you to buy into, say, a noxious war. Or toxic fast food. Or ultraviolent entertainment. Or Celine Dion.
Conversely, the more you work to feel
nature, imbibe it, soak up that juicy
interconnectedness like wine into a
mattress, suck up that vibrational hum and awe and kiss, the more you realize the value of protecting and preserving and treading lightly, actually taking the time to taste your food, integrate with those objects, feel that breath of your lover. Simple, really.
And, hence, the less you require of the material world. This is what scares Them the most. This is why They don't want you to notice, to feel, to remember, or to question their motives.
Because the less you believe that
everything around you is just a tedious lifeless resource to be consumed and shrugged off, the less you feel the need to share in the massive force-fed belief that we are here to devour as much as possible, as quickly as possible, and blow the living crap out of everything that gets in our way.
And then you take the idea one step
further. You realize that by soaking up
that interconnected juice and raising
that vibrational consciousness just
that little bit, on a day-to-day basis,
you are directly and immediately
affecting everything around you,
inspiring it, them, us to do exactly
The final kicker: It's all accessible
right now. All you gotta do is ask.
Invite it in. Literally. Just ask.
Want to be healthy? Strong? More open and lickable,(probably meant likable), and less bitter and baffled and cynical? Ask for it, place
some divine intent behind it and breath it in and imagine what it would feel like to radiate health and sexual
vibrancy and self-defined joy and
really cool taste in shoes. That's how
Because this is the biggest collective
delusion of all, that you can't get at
it, that it's so much wimpy tofu-hugging BS, so much fluffy New Age psychobabble. What a convenient excuse that is to remain wallowing and acidic and humming at a simplistically low, want-based pitch, happily drunk on the disinfo They want to sell you. It's just too easy. And lazy. And it does require work. It takes some concentrated and open-hearted effort to raise that awareness, to tune in on that level, sift through the bogus media and healers and teachers and pretentious yoga classes, gurus, smarmy inane Chicken Soupy books to find the authentically divine heat and rush and thrust.
You gotta get off your ass. You gotta
question everything. You gotta see the world anew, always, every moment, to progress and evolve and vibrate higher.
And, to be sure, it can be a total
divinely annoying pain in the ass.
But, really, when you get right down to it, what else is there?
All contents, except the swearing and
the random blasphemy, (tm) (c) 2003 SF
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