the lingering
dread is savoring
on the spaced out man
who couldn’t understand the ways he felt

the eerie glow
of the gallery
displayed a past prize
alive beneath a fitted leather coat

and violence
struck apathy
before she got a word
you should have given her your heart

she’s steeped in the bath
oh those drips make her laugh
they came down on top
down the stairs
in the basement where
the kids sleep every night

and ride to the moon
on white horses too
and laid down
before the sunrise

and i’ve seen your fair
face all covered in hair
with a bill you braided in

we brave it each week
with each tongue in a cheek
and the teeth just grind the bone
adoring our time
with the fruit and the wine
til we can’t carry on

then we’ll ride to the moon
on white horses too
laid down
before the sunrise

and i’ll kiss your fair
face covered in hair
with a bill you braided in

awake
you take
my bread away
from me

i say
i see you
searchin for the sugar

hey put
hey put yer
your back into the lever
just maintain yourself
hangin on forever

again
you offend
i’m not
a beggar i’m a chooser

somewhere
between
the winners and the losers

hard floor
these dull boards
thought you said
yer name was candy
thought you said
yer name was candy

so hey put
yeah hey put
your back into the lever
just maintain yourself
hangin on forever

what is it to be a man? to be masculine?

through the rise of the feminist movement, women have reevaluated what it is to be a woman. they ask, “what am i – not, mind you, what makes me different from a man, but what am i independent of him?” – and have come to their numerous conclusions. these conclusions affect the word variably, and most notably influence those who happen upon it whilst earning a real-world certification of edification. although, sadly, culture is more pervasive than genius, and i hardly know a girl who calls feminine as did beauvoir.

the conclusions however, still remain, there to be read by any searching soul. and i am one of those. and you who now read after i have finished writing, are perhaps as i will be in the future wondering as also i am now; what defines a man?

feminism is there, but where is her brother? what is his name? is it masculinism? or perhaps it simply is western philosophy as a whole? after all, men have dominated that field for years, and cultivated various theories which originated in the heads of men (and perhaps from the heads of women, equally, but without credit), but who can surely say so? i for one, hesitate to say so at all, nevermind surely. for although it may be argued that masculinity has seeped into philosophy by way of the very origins of western philosophy (the heads of so many men), a gap remains – the very subject of masculinity.

yes, masculine themes may be observed between the lines of philosophical works, but rarely have i encountered it as the very subject of the work itself. whereas the feminist philosophers labored over that very idea – because at the time, it needed a more accurate definition, which necessitated endless speculation into the nature of femininity. and it should not surprise one that such speculation occurred. it can be plainly seen that the oppressed often speculate optimistically about themselves, and often pessimistically about the oppressors.

i would speculate that this type of thinking originates from the posing of a most simple question, “why?” in oppressive circumstances. the oppressed ask themselves “what is my nature that my oppressors so despise me?” and through speculation, reason, and experimentation, reveal numerous hypothesis on the subject of both oppressor and self. the fruits of such thought are highly regarded amongst the liberated, the semi-liberated, those who feel liberated, and those who are not liberated but imagine themselves to be.

so is it any great wonder then, that masculinity has not been adequately examined? or rather that it has not been examined in the same way that femininity has? must we be oppressed before we discover ourselves? i think not, and on this subject i intend to devote a great deal of thought.

born blank, the world becomes illuminated and reality shaped through the peeking-holes which the senses, tactile and otherwise, provide us.

your people have provided you your isolation, which is presumed to provide you a choice between poles. to live, die, succeed, fail, despair, rejoice. mystic interpretations of the forces that shudder and shift your scope, presented as common fact – refutation of which we must all consider deplorable – provide the context for which we judge and are so judged.

you, and certainly not you alone – no, we all isolated possess the power of the purchase. the free exchange of power in its various forms: fame, fortune, and knowledge. buy and sell, slash your price to match the curve of the supply and most importantly of the demand. this is the nature of the world, give and take, take and take, amounting steadily to something – then decaying into nothingness.

and recognizing the futility and incivility and barbarous nature of the world: disassociate ourselves from its implications by means of faith. hope. the literal last word upon the tongue of every man that ever has or will parish – perhaps, something else, something beyond, something more? and the killer catch – you’ll never know until you don’t know the way you ever have, without know, without thoughts inside, an empty shell that ever was though unacknowledged.

“i cannot cope with my own emptiness. i must strive for something more! a brilliant old flame of mine once again and suddenly took up my hand and i was shocked to the peak of awe! and i did not understand – i admit – but i cannot hesitate for even a moment! i simply haven’t got the time! life is too short, and this my dear friend was an experience of the otherworld, the beyond, at that moment my spirit leapt up and met god and was caressed wholly by his presence if only for a second. and so i did not understand, but i did somehow. i know it was an event that occurred once, and has occurred at irregular intervals of varying frequency seemingly somehow associated with what i refer to as the result of my existence. the directions in which i have with mixed intent guided myself, as i went acting and reacting to the situation which changed perpetually and at a rate which my own mind could not perceive.”

i know that i am. i believe sometime prior to my memory, i was not, although i have no evidence to support such a claim – because when i say “i,” i refer only to the thoughts that are. they are not inside my head, nor inside me – what evidence have i of that either? so i know only that these thoughts -are- and that whatever they are, wherever they come from the seem to have possessed a body of flesh and blood and a powerful processing unit which i have come to call a brain.

at this point the means of continuing this line of thought split into two paths. with thoughts established as simply they simply “are,” i must now venture backwards, prior to my ability to compose, in the symbols of my tongue, this very letter. backwards, before i learnt that the medium between the thoughts that are and this body of flesh and blood is presumed to be within the very body itself. therefore it is not even a medium. what evidence now do i have for the suggestion of a rift between these thoughts that are and this piece of flesh called a brain? the medium which i suggest could not be – as i am attempting to establish the state of the substance of thought and flesh as either separate or the same. however – it ought be noted that thoughts occurred before i was aware of this, and i make no great assumption in stating – if it be an entity separate from myself from which these notions originated – that thoughts occurred even in the originator of this idea prior to its formulation of the aforementioned theories of brain-workings.

and so i have only an explanation which i refer to in order to provide a context for myself to function in. but what even prior to this was there? we spoke of isolation before, and will now return to the subject. i am certain that there are thoughts, that is firmly established. descartes said “i think therefore i am.” however – his statement is based on a presupposition – that is, the presupposition of an “i.” but where does “i” come from? was it not a learnt behavior half-based on his means of interpreting the world – eyes, hands, body, mind – and half based in other shapes which he with his eyes witnesses moving about a vast and complicated setting. and so the mind makes use of the tools provided it and navigates in order to sustain consciousness. the self, established by a balance of power by means of information somehow stored (we would presume, in the brain,) and exchanged between the numerous similar bodies. the mind – consisting both of thoughts and knowledge which must be somehow acquired – provides the means to sustain the body which in turn perpetuates the mind by way of consciousness – either a symbiotic relationship between two substances, or a single, extremely complex substance simply perpetuating itself.

so it is either two or one – but i am in despair – for i know not where to start, i cannot remember starting to think. i cannot remember when i established “i,” and neither can i distinguish, taking into account the numerous presuppositions provided to me that i might function similarly to my counterparts, which is proper. and on what can i cast the blame for this? that i was brought about into an already established reality, and thus forced to conform to it in order to survive. if my understanding had been cultivated in some radically different way, i would see the world in a radically different way, certainly. how can i not despair of this fate – to have been made this way and only to loathe this way and its various consequences. i scream with dissent about the way, but these cries go unheard for one reason and one reason alone – the way self-perpetuates and will forever. the way is predetermined in that each that comes about comes about only by way of another already integrated part of the incessant flow of it. though the permutations are infinite, and the free will exist, the determinism is undeniable in a simple moment of recognition that the precepts of individuality, of exchange between shapes of various bits of value in any form, and of self-perpetuation are pushed and for good reason accepted by every new-comer – should the gift of integrating be somehow miraculously refused, then be banished from the way and its wanderers all together and become an outlier.

O! It cannot be stopped!
These are two men locked in a combat
Of most mortal nature!
Lo and
The numerous balls behold!
Scattered upon the velvet table
Still and contemplating their fate
They all in some varied combination
Shall collide, eachother and with the ivory
and inevitably into the yet empty sockets
where to remain until the very last
blackball barreling tumbles down inside
sub-eternally ’til game on again.

speaking theoretically,

if it were possible for a computer program to imitate the mathematical equations of the physics that set the world in motion, and further to imitate the conditions of the environment of the earth as it was at the dawn of life, could something about life be revealed?

this program need not a visual representation of the conditions. it would seek only to provide enough data to be properly interpreted for its purpose:

the purpose of the program is only to prove that science need know more, for when science knows enough, this program shall prove whether or not “life” is even in reality anything other than consciousness and a beating heart.

because we have the technology to imitate the basic behaviors of single celled organisms.
because we know a great deal about the physical nature of the universe (though we still have a great deal to discover).
because we have theories to test what we have not yet discovered with our own eyes.

the test would be simple. constant data input and constant data output at the maximum rate of the processor (of course, it would be impossible for computer processes to perfectly imitate time, as the decimals representing each second can only go so far, as so many processes can only take place in a given second, so the road to a perfect experiment stretches on into infinity) would monitor, based on the physical equations and various data estimating the conditions of the earth in its primordial states, the progress of a single celled organism (also simulated) programmed to eat, reproduce, eat, and die eventually.

essentially, a program inside a program in a way. the first is the environment, represented by all the physics science can provide. the second is the most basic form of artificial life conceivable, representing a single celled organism.

organism success = accurately imitates life completely
organism failure = fails to imitate life completely

the simulation would prove one of two things based on our grasp of the physics of the universe.
1. if we totally grasp the physics, a success indicates that life itself can be depicted in equations the nature of the universe, and thus god.
2. if we totally grasp the physics, a failure indicates that life possesses something beyond the physical.
3. if we do not totally grasp the physics, success indicates that we in fact do grasp the physical universe (and see 1).
4. if we do not totally grasp the physics, failure indicates that we need further learn ourselves in the physics of the universe.

what are the implications?

slay shut his audible mouth
will you cardinal,
you canon-spitter,
who making writ the word-no,
the penalty of god,
upon our yawning hands.

enlightened momentarily
you will be dispatched
by ignorance-this edict
cannot make you no more
some day, may be.

thought, perhaps,
you were icarus, friend.
but you are wary of the flame,
in pyretic reverence.
be knelt, oh pray never
forget ever learnt the name.

what stories are here?
some strange brain meanderings,
almost-certainly for sure.

grabbing for medicine,
we swallowed and gulped,
to cure a sober sickness,
we wandered from why and felt.

what you said then-
anything at all-
murmuring partner,
are we together engulfed,
by the new world’s sepia tone,
and warped without any significant meaning-
and we ever searching.

comedy, you do ensue,
even i, unaware.
the evident footage not discovered
’til the sun again came,
still in mid-ruse,
camera in hand.

then, as thoughts arrived furiously knocking,
and with curious tyke questions in tow – short in review, so monstrous in the context.
my grip to you was severed,
a necessary leave to address your most serious guests,
and i mine.

they shook me up, i yelled,
all fall down into deep armchairs,
that i might deal with you three;
what, why, and honesty – three raw young cousins,
undeniably mine,
hope – come infrequently to stay,
depart will you – immediately.

my slow tongue half spoke,
before the fierce tantrum came,
and through the window to oblivion,
i am along, the dead weight wonder-tote.

cousin, you are constant,
to be forever unexplained.
it cannot be dissembled,
into useful parts, the words.
it was just a feeling.