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Revive the pirate utopias.

the pirates are now within the social stream as the publicity moves and pulls like the very real wave of a sea change reorienting the substance within the groups that take to some radical strand coming into the mainstream of thought, a place or port of sanctuary moving with the energy of the community as nomadic nation of the so many all at once poured forth into this odd situation adrift, but the buoyed among us in this modern mythology are floating along with the sharks and darker things trying to manipulate from inside the deeper trenches shadowed away in the eyes of those who can change things for the better and more the free form as much as the spirited… the cult of tomorrow takes the taxes and catches the rain water for their own gains through the fog of delicious insanity with sweet tooth intact to bite flesh of the filth pig stained by misery and death, stuck upon the spit as the flames rise higher still and the brighter ones flicker with a golden glory calling only for personal sacrifice to the god of your choice who is still the one with the many names worshiped in vain by the human lost as in the middle of fascist extremes burning with a feared and gory staked claim upon a nightmare conscious of what it can do to Man through his dreams of horrible profit and grandiose vibrations toward power, and calling for the inferior to give everything to the feet of their new master who could kill them whenever he chooses to kill those who especially participate in what he chooses to call the system… ‘government’, that grinding machine that chews down the tissue and marrow into sizes that fit as well with the outrage as the degree of disgust that this supposedly optimal system plays against to further the overall atmosphere of frustrations that make their appearance known so easily, but questions of whether this dirty beast will go away or be tamed by the reasoned and logical among us pop up infrequent to mind as i sit and try to quell the beast within my own mind let alone other minds at the same time… the voice cries out obscenity among the believers even though there is faith in the statement and passion evoked in the works of the words used to initiate the viewer into visualizing the Mysteries for themselves to estranged levels of hapless bliss accessible by the divine mind as it might seem to represent a tearing away of the spirit into a realm inhabited by mind… there are no words that reveal truth beyond these beer-stained fantasies in my case in fact, but there are more things to being a pirate or radical than being practically on the edge of totally inebriated especially in the modern veggie-crunch lifestyle state of mind that compels this fascist sense of self-righteousness among those who feel puritanical deeper down than are willing to admit to themselves or others, the honest as opposed to hypocritical as the preferred approach when relating among other human beings in a social phase of growth and becoming something greater than merely the self alone as though a strand amid many other strands within some fiber-optic cable carrying information across lines like ferrymen on the Styx… what do we gift to our kin in light of the plight that has always become of the one choosing to subvert the systematic mechanical control that implies itself upon the supposedly helpless populace inhabiting the same hidden utopias of the mind that contradict themselves as well as compliment and inform opposition in and of itself as the rebellion switches sides between freedom and resistance, we see the visions that contribute to our own as the patterns wear themselves out through the overuse by some seldom utilized intuition siphoning the reverberations of the belligerent off the top of the whole mess while retaining the stewing passions of the infrequent resistors that sideline until the next quake in the social atmosphere comes in revolution, but the thing about spinning is that it never stops in this automatic atmosphere of controlled fear and shame in retaliation of understanding what self means on the individual scale carving into the personal reflection upon what control means to the person exactly that which can never be calibrated into a static element of the real permitting random life…

Thanks, khet.