Celebrating personal discordia and spiritual anarchy.



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"Anarchy is not intended to be sustainable. It is not a system of government, a codified list of rules and beliefs, or a mind set geared toward cultural constructivism. It is a spark, a flash, a small flame that ignites a paradigm-obliterating explosion. It is destructive by nature. It lies dormant and, like diesel fuel, can only be ignited by tremendous pressure. It deconstructs. It strips flesh from bone and grinds bone to dust. It is doomed to consumption in the conflagration instigated by its own primal spark. It is a catalyst. It is tinder. It is powder and fuse."

Rich Oliver



Conundrum of Synchronicity and Implied Destiny


If events are linked, inexorably, by apparently chance coincidence and, taken together, appear to lead toward a predetermined climax along the continuum, then they are, by definition, no longer coincidental but represent a logically calculated and seemingly preconceived pattern of linear progression in a programmed equation. This would render the coincidental calculated and the synchronous succinct. If not, we are demi-fools wandering the unfathomable cosmos desperately collecting random flotsam and assigning definitions according to subjective observation of imagined correlations.

Why do we search for meaning? We might all be fucking nuts.

Sometimes the prophesied path that leads to a goal finds the goal to be hint or clue for the next piece of the puzzle...often stirring an insight and leading to even greater insight and understanding. Sometimes it baffles us. Sometimes it causes discomfort or shatters the ego.

See, the problem is this...if we planned this life before we came here and surrendered our choice after the initial planning in order to experience this life as a series of related coincidence, then we basically bent ourselves over the cosmic sofa in order to learn our own planned lessons. That makes us sadistic bastards. Or retarded. One would think it unnecessary to lobotomize oneself in order to study the phenomenon of lobotomy...wouldn't one? WTF? Or, heaven forbid, we actually have the ability to choose and our course of action is not predetermined, does that suggest that we have, essentially, designed a vacation into the wild, burned the map, scooped out our own brains, super activated our gonads and plopped ourselves down in alien territory with absolutly no guarantee of a safe return. That's pretty fucked up. Must have been passing the herb at the contract signing meeting.

Ok,ok as long as were looking at cosmic tom foolery...If the cards predict a gift as a destination or nexus for a prescribed path (for the sake of shits and giggles, let's say a pony) and we find, upon reaching the nexus that the gift is in fact a pretty box containing another path suggestion or insight (let's say a large turd), were we, as the architects of our own destiny, horrible and altogether ill tempered in our planning? No one wants a turd. Everyone wants a pretty box. What if all the boxes are really covering turds...is that why the cards predict pretty boxes instead of turds? I don't want a turd. Good thing that next one is a pretty box. Maybe it's a pony...