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



Acceptance and Surrender as an Act of Transfiguration.

Free falling into the void; allowing the bottom to drop out and accepting, as a powerful force of unavoidable destiny, the visceral, bone jarring step from the rationale of perceived control allows the mind to jettison its own inky flotsam and surrender all conscious processes of internal dialogue and intellectualization in favor of a zen-like, lack of control. It gives up because it is unable to do otherwise. With this surrender comes a peace, a full acceptance of the power of destiny and of the complete powerlessness of the individual ego to alter, in any way, the sheer force of the energetic torrent. "Be still and know that I am God".
There is peace in sacrifice. There is peace in surrender. We often note, as the initial shock wears off and we become accustomed to the fall, the falling away of landmarks, of anything against we can logically measure our velocity. Signs and landmarks fade. Without reference, we feel weightless and buoyant, warm and free. The ego dissolves, faith emerges. We realize, with a degree of shock, that our everyday lives are filled with senseless worries and artificially invoked priorities. We can hardly see them now as they fade against the vastness of the healing void. We are dissected from the inside out...paradigms, ideas, theories, beliefs...all strain and dissolve, then our skin, bones, sinews, organs and tissues. We are left with only the shining intelligence of our core being, yet we live and breath and find ourselves able to comprehend, feel and function. We die and are reborn instantaneously into a paradigm of eternal parameters. We are eternal. And this life is only an illusion. The Watcher stands at the edge of the abyss, holding in its taloned hands the eviscerated corpse of our mortal existence. He will return it to us in short order, repaired and cleaned, but only under the condition that it be used a a vehicle for further experience and not worshiped as the actual self.