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  • The culture houses are come like slaughter
    where massive slabs of carcass, huge generalizations
    are halved, quartered & packaged as so many brands
    of equally tasteless dissatisfaction meat

    Excessive excess
    surplus redundant
    dollar-store glut
    cheapness en masse

    Post Scriptum

    Greedily, south-east Asia embraces our insistence on profit, making copies of what we don't need cheaply & do well selling to us. Now that what we invented has come back to haunt us we can't seem to stop the wheels of what we set in motion & the presses keep rolling with the latest unmet need.

    Ghandi said to be the change you want to see in the world. Hmmm. He also retreated from the world in his loincloth to spin cotton. Surrounded by agriculture & the doting Indian men receive from wives & daughters, he was visited by friends whom he trusted. It seemed he was setting an example of forbearance for a world torn asunder by world war. I believe he surrendered to a best practice of mindful contemplation of simple existence. On his (relative) own he was able to find fulfillment, on the margins of a world gone mad. I humbly suggest (my cowbird colleagues) that this is a good place to start. Thoreau's pond of experimental self-sufficiency has evolved. We outskirt the metropolis & from our sidelines we make deals...with the devil of want, the demon of need & the satan of fear. Sandy foundations we know, are not solid bases for homes.

    The machinery of multi-national best practice is finely honed to manufacture more of what we have clearly outgrown. Imagine us then, (the affluent 20% that consumes 80% of the planet's available resources) how we must be seen! wandering our respective neighbourhoods in hand-me-downs from sibling-predecessors.
    Why we are little pigs! Piggish then, we are trained to want more of what we're accustomed to, told that there's more in the barn. If we're good (and eat what's been put in our trough!) there's more in the warehouse too!

    More money more debt more war more worry more fear
    Run to the hoarding centre of your life where stockpiles of half-hearted assurances you exist
    sit abandoned in cobwebbed attics full of garage sale items we re-cycle among our poor selves
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