Blood in my coffee and the nation of thieves.
(WARNING. Explicit content. NSFW)
There is blood in my coffee.
I bought it, made it, and stared at it for an hour.
It made me think, that if you are trained in a belief your entire life, and meet nothing that shatters your perceptions enough to change that belief, that you are a slave, regardless of your money, wealth, power, or privilege.
I notice that even the mention of this, makes a lot of people who are privileged, and content in their status, nervous, hostile or cry foul, which is a vast irony since ethically, someone knowingly or unknowingly killing another, should not be in a position to cry foul as they do so.
I am killing someone today with this coffee.
Seriously. Somewhere on the Borders between two coffee producing regions, someone got their brains blown out for this very coffee I am drinking. And that’s just the start of it.
I was raised in the west. This shall always affect my outlook, my thought process, and my ideology. It is a lens through which I see other things.
I was raised in a national culture where every single thing of merit is historically whitewashed and attributed to white people, (of over a dozen different cultures. there is no “one white people”) where all history is slanted in favor of the winners, because winners always write the history.
Where hatred, arrogance, and fear is a large part of European Judeo-Christian Culture and systemic western philosophical thought, I openly question so-called western “history”, find that a large part of it’s “science” is actually African, Asian, Middle eastern, and indigenous of origin, and I laugh at it’s so-called “Democracy” that gives me whatever I want if I play along, but robs my fellow humans of the most basic human rights and needs, while patting me on the back and rewarding my complicit silence.
There are many people who know this, usually older like me, who have come out of the collective narcissism fostered and marketed by this culture, that is a parasite on all youth, and all youthful thought and energy, and that distracts the young from action, and political forward progress. There was a brief moment in my childhood, where there was a mass youth movement against the slavemasters of this country, but everyone was killed or imprisoned, and then those ruling families, then purchased every single media outlet that had once been a channel or venue for youth to participate in class revolt. Music is now, nationally, often a tool of the masters.
I’d say, looking around that they pretty much won.
There will be another round, I am sure. This is a natural cycle of evolution.
As fate would have, it I was raised in a nearly all black Neighborhood and family, in a family where everyone is a different color, and saw over the years the caste system enforced across the colors of my family everywhere we went. I being the whitest, was not only treated better by my grandmother, but am also able to blend in with white people more than my siblings, Which not only exposed me to straight ahead old school racism, but also liberal racism, and even black racism towards non-black people in Oakland. I am a spy in the house of races.
The thing that makes me saddest about all this is that I see the success of evil (read selfish) people who work together, themselves victims of their own brainwashing, while my own, (mixed/All colors/White/Latino/Black/Indigenous) suffer from the most self hating, jealous, backbiting, selfish behavior towards one another I have ever seen between a species.
Looking up the class ladder, I see that it is about money, while down here, (I am I think, middle class now) it is about color. Billionaires, have no problem working closely with other races to promote their global agenda, while two people from the neighborhood often fight to death for scraps or bragging rights.
When you deliberately shatter your lens (as I attempt, and usually fail to do. it grows back with astonishing speed) you will discover that we are like the child at the bosom of a dedicated thief. A country of people who have lived by the theft and murder committed by our masters so long that we see nothing wrong with it.
A people so controlled by comforts that a person of another color might as well be on a distant planet.
A people so distracted and hypnotized by our learned lifestyle, that rape, child trafficking, land grabbing, drone bombing, suicide attacks, institutionalized racism, mass genocide, and wholesale brainwashing complete with constant temptation of explicit sexual imagery, and constant shaming for the natural response to it, become so ordinary that we do not even question it.
A system where the very Judges employed to protect us are our worst enemies, and fully owned by corporations who conspire with the government to demolish all our rights, and then employ us as slave labor, when they cannot imprison us.
But mostly, the thing that is robbed is our humanity. Our ability to see others as equals, or equally deserving of love, respect, and resources. We have been trained to justify any actions we take in behalf of what we need or think we need.
Like a narcissistic child who thinks that their progress is due to their own hard work, rather than the fact that they were born to privilege, we convince ourselves that this is fine, and that we honestly came into all of these things through rightful ownership
This makes my latter years look more and more hypocritical. I wanted to get a small house near the coast, but who was that land taken from? who has the fucking nerve to actually claim ownership of land that was stolen, from others through murder?
This means that my original teachers were right. (BPP, Hoffman, Davis, O’Leary, yes, all those 60’s people. They were right)
Property IS theft, and therefore I am a thief as well for possessing any of it.
I can admit and live with that far more easily than the effort that comes from lying to myself.
My coffee is theft, my cell phone is theft, When I get a house, and I will, I will be buying stolen property, I will enjoy it mostly under guard of paid security, (police and Military) so long as I do not rock the boat too much. I am sick and poisoned with the western property disease that has swept thew word in these times. I am not however infirm with blindness, nor silence.
Either I bend the knee or raise the head, and I choose to raise the head.
We are a nation of thieves. The children of a grand theft, the product of a philosophy of thievery, perpetually taught in the art of justifiable thievery, and I am a part of the problem, and not it’s solution. Even just acknowledging this, will get me into arguments, and perhaps make a few enemies. So be it.
I may be a spiritually indentured servant of Rome, but I will not do it with a constant smile or in silence. I know what I am.
I am the descendant of a dynasty of thieves.
The blood in my coffee grows cold.
©Piero Amadeo Infante, 2014.