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Landfill Empire

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Manage episode 422085003 series 1941283
Content provided by Caitlin Johnstone and Tim Foley. All podcast content including episodes, graphics, and podcast descriptions are uploaded and provided directly by Caitlin Johnstone and Tim Foley or their podcast platform partner. If you believe someone is using your copyrighted work without your permission, you can follow the process outlined here https://player.fm/legal.
The moonlight caresses the missile silos in Russia and the blown out hospitals in Gaza. The garbage plays in the wind like children. The exhaust fumes and the sounds of traffic feel like sex in your senses. You can meet the divine here. Here in the city. Here in dystopia. Here amid the smell of piss and the sleeping bags on the sidewalk. Here in the heart of a dying empire, whose cancerous tendrils sprawl like ivy across the dying face of a dying world. You can let the LED lights dance with the light at the core of your being. You can drink from the Great Mother’s breasts beneath a billboard for the latest iThingy. You can raise up your heart to the pigeons, and to all the other animal species whose lives we have not yet succeeded in extinguishing. For us, this is Eden.For us, this is the only place in which Buddha can be born. In the future, if there is a future, maybe the humans figure things out and create a healthy world. But that world is not our world. That world is not where we clocked in to do our daily work. We clocked in to this strange civilization, where headless robot dogs keep showing up in police forces and sniper drones play the sounds of crying babies to lure out Palestinian civilians. Where we have amputated our sacred connection with nature and land and affixed a prosthesis made of viral videos and sitcoms to the aching, festering stump. Where everyone’s eyes are darkened by unnatural mindings, and everybody’s always hungry no matter how much they eat. This is where we will make our stand. This tanglewire nest full of fast food wrappers and broken toys, this mess where everything smells like motor oil and despair. This is the manger in which Christ consciousness will be lain. This is the armageddon town that will become our paradise. This is the landfill empire where we will finally let sprout those mysterious seeds planted in us long ago. In this strange civilization, in their own secret language, even the buzzing drones over Gaza sing the holy name of Allah. _______________ Reading by Tim Foley.
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1123 episodes

Artwork

Landfill Empire

JOHNSTONE

62 subscribers

published

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Manage episode 422085003 series 1941283
Content provided by Caitlin Johnstone and Tim Foley. All podcast content including episodes, graphics, and podcast descriptions are uploaded and provided directly by Caitlin Johnstone and Tim Foley or their podcast platform partner. If you believe someone is using your copyrighted work without your permission, you can follow the process outlined here https://player.fm/legal.
The moonlight caresses the missile silos in Russia and the blown out hospitals in Gaza. The garbage plays in the wind like children. The exhaust fumes and the sounds of traffic feel like sex in your senses. You can meet the divine here. Here in the city. Here in dystopia. Here amid the smell of piss and the sleeping bags on the sidewalk. Here in the heart of a dying empire, whose cancerous tendrils sprawl like ivy across the dying face of a dying world. You can let the LED lights dance with the light at the core of your being. You can drink from the Great Mother’s breasts beneath a billboard for the latest iThingy. You can raise up your heart to the pigeons, and to all the other animal species whose lives we have not yet succeeded in extinguishing. For us, this is Eden.For us, this is the only place in which Buddha can be born. In the future, if there is a future, maybe the humans figure things out and create a healthy world. But that world is not our world. That world is not where we clocked in to do our daily work. We clocked in to this strange civilization, where headless robot dogs keep showing up in police forces and sniper drones play the sounds of crying babies to lure out Palestinian civilians. Where we have amputated our sacred connection with nature and land and affixed a prosthesis made of viral videos and sitcoms to the aching, festering stump. Where everyone’s eyes are darkened by unnatural mindings, and everybody’s always hungry no matter how much they eat. This is where we will make our stand. This tanglewire nest full of fast food wrappers and broken toys, this mess where everything smells like motor oil and despair. This is the manger in which Christ consciousness will be lain. This is the armageddon town that will become our paradise. This is the landfill empire where we will finally let sprout those mysterious seeds planted in us long ago. In this strange civilization, in their own secret language, even the buzzing drones over Gaza sing the holy name of Allah. _______________ Reading by Tim Foley.
  continue reading

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