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This is my note.
I am sorry for, and accept full responsibility for, any and all upset people feel as a result of what I will have done. I've done the best I can since the 4th attempt to push everyone away from me. So that people would mind less, be less upset. I'm sorry to those who still feel a positive emotional link to me. I'm sorry about that. I hope I fade from your emotional memory quickly. I hope you decline to look upon what I have done sympathetically, but instead view it as a selfish and cowardly act, unworthy of any admiration and impossible to excuse. This will help both of us.
It's not your 'fault', or indeed, anybody's 'fault'. I've been working towards this since I was seven, and my first attempt was at the age of 12. My second at 23, third at 34, fourth at 45, then fifth and sixth at 46, and now finally, I hope, my seventh, aged 48. It was pretty much bound to happen eventually. And I always knew this.
I never wanted to grow to become my parents, in love with power, excusing their behaviour with any foolish notion that came to hand to support their firmly held views regarding who should wield power and who should have it wielded upon them. It has been very depressing to discover that this appalling perspective towards one another and towards life in general is not confined to my parents alone but is rather a deep flowing current through our entire species, a current of gullibility and bigotry, of lust for power, and a disregard for the consequences that
always, again and again and again, arise and swallow us whole.
We either pretend there are no consequences of our foolishness, or, if we are a little bit more wise, that
if there are any consequences that we will,
at some ill-defined possible point in the future, take full responsibility for them. We won't, because we don't, and because I am a strict determinist, and propose that we probably can't help how we are since this has proven to be such a successful survival strategy for our species
so far, probably never will.
The wiser among us try to warn us of impending catastrophe, of our own species suicide, our own extermination. And we certainly seem to me to be determined upon that path. And that's well, just how things are, for quite a lot of sentient species. There's probably a really good, and quite obvious reason why the universe isn't overrrun with galactic civilisations, and my money's on this:
the drives that make a terrestrial species overwhelmingly successful at dominating life on their planet are not always the best to safeguard the other forms of life on that planet, or, indeed, to get off that planet when things turn really sour.
And I'm sort of okay with that now. Species come, species go; we came close but didn't make the final cut, too bad, let's see what cats can do instead. Or maybe life could have another go at dinosaurs - they were a pretty stable lifeform and such interesting shapes too!
What isn't okay, is
complicity. What isn't okay is knowing of the horror that we will inflict upon all the other species we share this planet with. What isn't okay is the species exterminations that are a direct result of our unfortunately too successful survival strategies. What isn't okay is knowing that we are, quite literally, the worst thing that has happened to this planet in 66 million years.
As I have grown, I have learnt that my parents twisted values are 'our' global values, and that no amount of frank discussion, based on evidence-based research and backed up by peer-review and even mass popular support and peaceful protest , is going to change that. There's a fuck tonne of oil under the Arctic seabed, and minerals galore under the Antarctic ice sheets. There's a serious amount of money to be made, and if it literally costs the earth, well, that's a price some future generations as yet unborn will have to pay. Surely, these global values of ours say, surely it was worth it for all the cheap sunshine holiday breaks and affordable new shoes? Not to mention the sex and the drugs and the non-stop fucking
entertainment.
The distractions with which I have, in my weakness and inability to stand up to this in any meaningful way, oh-so-successfully
distracted myself, don't work any longer. For some years the only way to stop feeling like I was going to scream with rage and cry until I had no more tears left was to drown myself in the temporary oblivion of alcohol. And other things, of course. You can never have too many distractions says the society of the spectacle. Beards stock has been doing very well in recent years, but it looks like ethno-facism has re-entered the Blue Chip portfolio, once again. And it's even not like everyone is dead yet from the last time that horrible little distraction with the funny haircut was around.
So you see, from where I'm standing, it seems like the humans just don't have the Big Match temperament. It looks to me like you aren't going to pull a hat-trick out of some previously unseen magic bag and
fucking sort it out. And I don't want to distract myself from this. And I don't want to be part of this. In fact, I refuse to go along with this anymore because the sense of
complicity is more than I can bear. And I'm too lazy, cowardly, timid and squeamish to try and stop this by none-peaceful means. I'm just done with it. I'm leaving. The real reason I have managed to stay sober this past 17 months, is because I have cast aside my addictions to temporary oblivion, in favour of a permanent and satisfactory permanent oblivion. It's why I've been so happy, so cheerful.
I don't believe in an after-life, either of the old theological type or the new technological one. It's the same emperor in a fabulous new outfit. The question of
complicity in atrocity can be placed at either God or Simulation. Did you know that in 2017 at least two babies were actually raped to death (one in Saudi Arabia, one in the U.S.A.)? That's just two atrocities of the millions, the
billions, that have taken place in our short history. If there is some sort of
Hidden Guiding Hand, it would seem to me to be a very foolish idea to place any trust-value in it's compassion, in it's basic ethical premises... Epicurius' logical challenge to theological claims of simultaneous omnipotence, omniscience and omnibenevolence remains as valid now as when first proposed. It's not in the least bit surprising that so few of his works survive...
Anyway, that's me, my tuppence of pointless verbiage.
"For what it's worth I dress my tears in costumes" as Rozz Williams said. I hope I'm wrong. I really do. I hope you pull your collective fingers out of your collective sphincters and
prove me wrong. That really would be the very best way you could remember me, because I would really like that. And since I have been so very wrong about so very many things in my life, plausibly achievable. So chin up eh, back straight, ignore the distractions and deal with the actual facts. You can do it.
You've got this.
In the name and presence of my three favourite anthropmorphic personifications,
Artemis, Athena and
Aphrodite-Uranos, a.k.a.
Integrity, Wisdom and
Loving-Kindness, (because sometimes even an ardent nihilist and atheist like me needs a made-up trio of goddesses when the going gets tough and my rational mind is awash in dopamine and cortisol) I offer you my love, such as it is, and the benefits of this poem, which I found very useful, especially in my latter years.
Kindness
Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and you ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing,
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend
~ Naomi Shihab Nye
And there's this, too...
SHe Who Is
O SHe Who Is
Who Art in All Things
Hallowed be Thy Being
In All Things Living
And Not-Living
Guide Us this day towards Loving-Kindness
In Thought & Word & Deed
And Guard Us from Cruelty
Both in and towards Ourselves and Others
For Thine is Love-Universal & Wisdom & Integrity
Now and in All of My Life
A-WoMen
And
finally (gawd, will I ever
finish...!) I believe this book to be the most powerful that I read in my entire life. It's very short, and based on the true story of St. Ferdaus. It might help you too.
l o v e : w i s d o m : i n t e g r i t y