Climbing the Corporate Ladder

When I was a kid in Oklahoma somewhere around the years of 1987 and 1988 we talked a lot about early non-productivity based society peoples who now get called Indians even though that's kinda goof. They also get called native Americans but that too is a wee spit cart before the muley. It was EarthPeople if anything, and they're still alive. I suspect I am one on some leve, moonlighting in cities but stretching my spirit towards open space and non-reliance on corporate middle people to provide my needs. Fighting my way out of this wet paper bag is harder than one who is not even trying or imagining would think. My friend called me yesterday crackin out because he was staring at a McD's billboard that had an "aig" (ya'll prolly say "egg") in the bottom corner with a thought bubble over it's head and the thought was that the aig was aspiring to become an aig muck muffin. We agreed that what he was seeing was the spreading of the myth and lie that all things share a human view and that all human views aspire for the same things, therefore enforcing the emotional feeling that becoming a product (or obtaining products) is the only satisfying path. People often comment when I talk to em that "you can't take it with you," implying that upon death when yer pumped full of chemicals and placed in a nonbiodegradable box to one last time pollute the environment you cant take the stuff along. What? What kind of logic is that??? Seriously, I'm on a logic hunt people, that's my official job title, Jordy Moore, Logic Hunter. How about this for a change... You can hardley take it with you anywhere, while yer still alive! Forget dying and the implications of life/death good/bad/ heaven/hell/ girl/boy haves/havenot etc/etc... the stuffs heavy and unnecessary and really only there to try to reenforce that in a meaningless world objects or posessions can have meaning. They Cant. Thats why people are locking everything down, they have to leave it alone and hope some individual they deem criminal won't want the same stuff they wanted at one time too and go in and take it. People do, I know, im no hippy about that fact. In FACT I know that out of the entire population of persons behind bars on the planet 25%!!! are locked up in the U S A. Thats 2.2 million individual warehoused. Like the rest of the stuff that the rest of society is concerned with getting... in a legal way? Really, how legal is the manner in which were getting the stuff were getting. Were mowing down trees left and right to build homes, but the trees are the lungs of the planet. Were building those same homes on the homes of what used to be another species home, which violates awareness. Were driving millions of cars a day going on millions of errends when really we could be networking to meet our own needs in an efficient way. Were telling the rest of the world were a democracy when in all actuality we are a corpocracy that is violating the individual rights set forth in the Constitution of the United States of America and spreading the lie that the world has always existed the way it looks right now and that we should all tow the line to keep it that way. Really? Two generations of humans living the life-is-good life is enough. This is just starting, and were going to take it in the direction of justice and evolution, peace and true freedom.

So at Harvest Hills Grammer School we would make outfits out of paper bags from grocery stores (in those days there was no good/evil option at the check out line) and make them look like vests and we would make feathers to and put on plays about these mysterious people who only left a trace of their existence in the form of a rounded spot on the earth or an arrowhead, and select writings and infinate amounts of cultural insight into THE REAL NATURE OF LIFE. I remember loving these people, imagining how their families stayed warm together and sat by fires and smiled under the sun. I remember being one. One of the songs that we would sing has always stuck in my head, (along with that song "Love in Any Language" that had hand signing with it... i digress), and this song in particular didn't sound too "indian" but we played it over simple little hand drums and sang it in a kind of chant that we deemed reverent. I paraphrase:

Go my son, go and earn your feather
Reach my son, go and climb your ladder
Lead my son, make yer people proud of you (ooww-oooww)

From the ladder of an education
You can speak to and reach entire nations
Believe my son, watching all the dreams come true (ooow-ooow)

... and so on.

That song was in my head yesterday as I climbed 55 feet into a tree and wrapped steel rope around its branches so that it can be pulled out by the root... It creates too much shade and its wood can be used to grow mushrooms in. With each spike-step going into the tree I got higher and higher and breathed into my awareness and remained where I was, because I didn't even want to think of where I would be or how I would feel if I didnt, just bodily. Err. But up at the top I sat for a second and closed my eyes and remembered those songs taught to me by The Teacher's back in the day, and it was a good and happy moment, of knowing I am climbing in the right direction.