Perhaps that’s OK… nobody seems to be listening anyway. And thus, the collective consciousness of humanity continues to conjure and enact ever more tragic scenarios, and ever more frequently so. The media strive to analyze, extrapolate, inform, recap, and update… keeping plates of psychic horror spinning throughout nations of carnivals of scale. Being progressively free of ownership by device electronic, one still cannot completely evade constant bombardment with the knowledge of suffering.
Following each instance, there’s generally steadfastness, hope, and righteous defiance, and it is soon usually grossly overshadowed by runaway blame, re-engineered judgment, and fortified intolerance. The cycles continue as episodic clones proliferate, then mutate to replicative dissolution upon eons passing.
The nature of terror is satanic in that it effectively eliminates all possibility of ambiguity in making choices in the moment. It is possible also that the notion of a satan is, in fact, a well-crafted subroutine implemented to exercise some control over the masses. Not much seems to escape consideration or scrutiny, be it a random thought, a mistaken symbol or facial expression, or a benign bottle of shampoo at a security checkpoint. Yet, The Hell Up gapes as widely as ever… no one can detect, let alone decipher, any ‘voice’ coming from that big hole, yet it remains ever absent of a viable means to be shut, filled, fulfilled, or even pacified! It is all eventually tuned out of awareness until more blood is spilled.
There is an order of some kind to things in general – whether chaotic or theotic. Incredible precision and timing maintain the dance of celestial objects and the life of their creatures. We can’t pack enough dirt together and hurl it into space in such a way as to complement the grand act already in performance. Yet, we manage to scrape up the absolute worst of what’s happening on the planet and then dress it like a stuffed pig ready for the roast – native entrails and contents intact!
Given that whenever Mother earth gives an occasional rip, a few precious human lives are usually lost, would one instead have Her tiptoe into deeper space with an enormous rubber plug? Given further the overwhelming well-being apparent and in absolute support of our Mother in Her capacity to support life, wouldn’t it be probable that the total of bad news that could ever be dredged up at any instant pales pitifully in comparison to all else going on?
Most would draw benefit from but a hint of a clue as to why such terrible things are happening, and many of us do get our questions answered and much more from religion, however loosely organized or tightly wound past the brink of fundamentalism. Yet, throughout human history, seeking ultimate clarity through religious dogma has been pretty much like looking to jet fuel and direct sunlight as a relief from skin cancer.
I don’t know what the answer is, but I do most certainly care, though I can’t possibly keep caring and keep my own sanity when the events that have sparked the question keep humping me about the head each time my random awareness is hijacked by some strategically planted digital HD structure. What I do know is that nothing that has happened (or not) or that has been considered (or not) is likely to make any difference.
And if a miracle is needed, then may we come to know that a miracle is simply a change in perception – a shift in the way of looking at things. It is we who create the news, and it is we who create our own blues. At some point along our evolution, we may succeed in encouraging ourselves to come to consensus on a possible alternative view – a perfect, expansive, well-meaning, well-being universe with but a spec of apparent discord somewhere in the Alpha Quadrant of the Milky Way. Wouldn’t it be special if merely lifting attention off ourselves could allow the focused attention of all that is to filter through to us, thus allowing us to get one another’s attention without having to resort to extremes?