The cult of the eye/I (in honor of today being election day)

The news reports are churning the fuel to feed the cult of the eye/I. Who will remain to sweep clean the streets of the mind, now cluttered with political confetti and the reigning rain of hope?
The t.v. blitzkrieg is well underway. Reporters scramble to scrape the last remaining meat off of the bones of that which is considered newsworthy and the scarecrow candidates are the flesh upon which the public mind feeds without end. We suffer from severe overconsumption of such rotten things. We feed upon their honeyed words though it makes us sick morning after morning after mourn. We cannot shed their "vision." Nor can the world bear the weight of such. Bodies bloat and rot in gutters, swelled to the point of bursting, from exported freedom and mass-produced democracy. A postcard. A soundbyte. An ad in one state that features the outline of another. The true battle isn't in some state or on even on a ballot. Truly, it lies within the pressure on the cornea, the glaucomatic smite. an ever turning knife of remembrance that infects when ignored. The flag-covered coffins shielded from view. Silence as abuse. A child's dying sigh. The television-preacher-war over god realized and right vs. Right vs. everyone. Merchandising. It's all merchandising this:

the cult of the I.


antidote in antithesis? a wish for sanity. a wish for calmness. a wish for selflessness. No.
explode the self like shrapnel to dissolve the borders of my/mine/mind. fragmentation and alienation is not enough. Despair is not enough. Anger is not enough. body a manifesto. thought a permanently inked resistance to numbness and apathy. make yourself. a force in this world but not one of coercion. the world tires of coercion. too many die of coercion. make yourself. a voice against silence. against forgetting history except that which glorifies lies. make yourself the last voice heard, if necessary. ask yourself where apathy ends? where does listless direction end? where do the excuses end? would you wish your corpse to be the playground of power politics? would you wish that for your children? Or their children? Or those you love? Words are easily thrown around. Adds only to the pollution and overcrowding. Unless you make the words into tools to dismantle the ignorance. the wall of ignorance. the wall of complicity and arrogance. unless we dismantle these within ourselves, the nation will retain this reflection. the leaders we choose will remain puppets on strings. parodies of selves when no one wishes to lead, only to be led. Representation. You have that luxury. I have that priviledge. We owe it to everyone else in the world to wake up to the reality the cult of the I has created and to undo whatever damage we can. We owe to ourselves, engagement. Collectivity. Otherwise, what will remain when the books are all either banned or burned and the individual is subsumed (consumed) by the illusion of individuality?

a wish for peace is a demand for action. peace!