Humanity and Violence

Humanity and Violence.

This interaction took place in the comments section of this post from the blog chotisibaatein –

mottyl says:

Maybe they are not the authorities. People in authoritative garb, in authoritative positions, are just people. I think we’ve all been taught for too long to put to much trust, too much of the decision-making power into the hands of those in authoritative garb, in authoritative positions.

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  • True, I guess we are blindly following their instructions… But what’s the opposite? Anarchy?

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  • mottyl says:

    Yes, actually, anarchy is the opposite, but anarchy, again assumes garbed and positioned authority figures as a given. Anarchy, in this sense, implies rebellion, but true anarchy isn’t rebellion nor is it the opposite of obedience. True anarchy takes place when individuals recover their own minds, hearts, and souls, and make that their governing compass. So, anarchy in that sense, is the only means to freedom. It is not an opposite then, because it does not assume any outer authority figure as an immovable or inevitable given. True anarchy is the experience of self-ownership. That is the experience that makes anything possible because it makes all outer authority transient and illusory. It is how true freedom takes place.
    If common individuals expressed and interacted on the planet from that starting point, no outer authority figure, corrupt or otherwise, could hold the kind of power that has caused so many atrocities on our planet.
    True anarchy is the journey to and experience of self-ownership. It is the basis of all sincere human rights activism. To thine own self be true.

The Strongest of the Strange, poem by Charles Bukowski

This is a peem by Charles Bukowski reblogged from a great blog called Bukowski on Wry. Go and check it out!

Charles Bukowski, “The Strongest Of The Strange”

you won’t see them often
for wherever the crowd is
they
are not.
those odd ones, not
many
but from them
come
the few
good paintings
the few
good symphonies
the few
good books
and other
works.
and from the
best of the
strange ones
perhaps
nothing.
they are
their own
paintings
their own
books
their own
music
their own
work.
sometimes I think
I see
them – say
a certain old
man
sitting on a
certain bench
in a certain
way
or
a quick face
going the other
way
in a passing
automobile
or
there’s a certain motion
of the hands
of a bag-boy or a bag-
girl
while packing
supermarket
groceries.
sometimes
it is even somebody
you have been
living with
for some
time –
you will notice
a
lightning quick
glance
never seen
from them
before.
sometimes
you will only note
their
existance
suddenly
in
vivid
recall
some months
some years
after they are
gone.
I remember
such a
one –
he was about
20 years old
drunk at
10 a.m.
staring into
a cracked
New Orleans
mirror
facing dreaming
against the
walls of
the world
where
did I
go?