Bays Mountain Park And Planetarium (5)

Bays Mountain Park And Planetarium (5)

By : -

Wordsworth and Yeats have been ‘merely’ poets and Brown writes fiction, but the issues they categorical are real. Mount Logan is the most important non-volcanic mountain in base space (a hundred and twenty sq mi or 311 km2). We produce and hunt down writing, artwork and tradition rooted in place, time and nature. Day by day, the machines are gaining ground upon us; daily we have gotten extra subservient to them…the time will come when the machines will maintain the real supremacy over the world and its inhabitants…Our opinion is that conflict to the loss of life needs to be immediately proclaimed towards them.

I don’t spend numerous time chatting about anti-utilitarianism with my neighbours, though on reflection, now I’ve read about it, perhaps I’ve been ‘critiquing the hegemony of the epistemological postulates of economics’ (p. 21) in my daily life all these years without realising it; I call it ‘constructing a home and planting a backyard whereas having fun with mates’.

After all, we are all consciousness, and consciousness is us. We are all born with the exceptional present of free will and as such are in a position to shape our own destinies inside the parameters out there to us. And being part of the collective awakening of humanity – free of the shackles of our civilisation’s dogma – is definitely the most effective and most useful option to spend our remaining time on Earth.mountain

Kim Goldberg has been contributing magical, otherworldly writing to Dark Mountain for some time now, and her work never fails to surprise and beguile. The sea was speaking to us. Part of the story it had to inform was that it had been telling this story for a time that we’re not actually used to registering, deep time, time that extends beyond many generations of human lifespans. Still, the central thrust of our spirituality accommodates over time to match existing circumstances. It would’ve been a greater strategy to spend his time than the ‘traditional’ leisure evening.

The crowd is drunk and rowdy; after all, it’s time for pageant, and whether or not recognized or simply felt, not far from here, thirty-three indigenous mothers and fathers have been murdered trying to barricade the copper mine that’s destroying the water they and their youngsters drink. There have been no rose bushes within the deep forest because of the lack of sunshine, so I figured it’d make a reasonable gift.