Eyesight on Hamburgers
The meat sits on a plate. There is a fresh twitch on the plate. It is as if all the muscle memories and electric energy is still intact. Flies are circling the meat. The red is gorgeous. It is saturated like a bed of roses. It's amazing to see what death can bring. The killing that brings sustenance and substance. The life the bringer of life and death. All roads point to more life. That vicious little cycle slowly becoming conscious of its own making.
Are you aware that there is a sale. A sale of meat from the butcher. It is two for one. Enough meat for the whole family. You can throw some in the freezer before it goes bad. People use to die from starvation yet we live in a time of plenty. It would take a willful struggle to try to die from hunger in this era of food abundance. A group of squirrels play outside of the butchers place. They don't know what goes on the inside of the slaughterhouse. They are just squirrels doing squirrel things.
Programmed by design by the intelligence of nature.
There's a flow of information in that piece of meat on the plate. There is value in it. Certainly if you do not eat it then some animal or thing in nature will. It will go back to the energy of the system. The cycle that helped bring it into existence in the first place. A balance of order, chaos and the need to keep on moving forward. Moving different units of energy across different organisms and processes. A delightful dance of calculated spontaneity and energy allocation. To think that these natural processes even care about what we think seems rather absurd, but yet we feel like we can wrangle it like a bull.
Ah! Put a pair of buns between this meat and you have a deal! A sandwich and macro-nutrient marriage for those of the most hunger stricken. An animal that once ate all day the plentiful green grass brought into being by the power of the sun is now part of a constructed albeit popularized food construct. There is indeed power in that process. People tend to fly so close to the sun not realizing how much we are dependent on its energy in everything we do.
There's an empty pod just out of orbit. There use to be someone in there. There are crumbs from a trail and granola mix combo and sweaty greasy marks on the what appears to be futuristic looking arm rests. It's a lonely pod just floating through space. The left side of it takes a quick glare from the sun that reflects back into the camera. It is you. You sit in another pod just looking at the empty pod in front of you. The silence if deafening, but also eerily comforting. There is a low rumble in the background, but nothing to write home about.
We are a long way from home, but we made it outside the earth's atmosphere and farther than we thought we could go. It is no mistake. It is that relentless ambition that drives our species to go over and beyond. Both in a literal and metaphorical sense. To go into the depths of the unknown and hopefully discover new things about ourselves that we never thought we would say. Space seems to act like a mirror. A deep glimpse into an eternal emptiness.
Little do we realize that we are electricity. Conduits for little chemical reactions and reverse polarities. It's all in the balance and it's an absolute miracle where are all here. In fact, we are gathered here today to take a look at ourselves. To turn that third eye inwards to the somewhat confusing and alarming center that most of us try so hard to escape. What does it feel like when we don't have a head full of images? Can nothing and darkness repel us from making more progress on who we think we can be? There's so many possibilities that its overwhelming.
Take a breath.
The ship docks at a harbor. The horn startles you. After all you were caught in between the gaps of thoughts staring into space with a stoic look on your face. You're a long way from home, but that doesn't bother you. There's something comforting about being by the bay where you could hop on a ship at any moment's notice and make your way to a brand new location with familiar bells and whistles. A crowd of people make their way off the ship. All pleasantly uppity from being cooped up on the water for so long. With their feet significantly wet, some of them lock arms and make their way down the ramp with reckless abandon. A man in a top hat makes it to the concrete platform away from the ramp and leans down to touch the luke-warm ground with his left palm. It was an act of grounding. A sign of self respect and the beginning of a new journey. The man with top hat gets up rather fast and appears to succumb to a very minute spout of dizziness. He simply got up too fast, but his equilibrium rebooted just in time. After a few seconds, a seagull flies over and defecates on to the top of the top hat. All good moments must come to a close. What a segue.
The ocean is vast with salty deliciousness. There are so many endless pits submerged with so much mystery. Flooded phantoms and hungry fish. Alas we can see these beautiful creatures as fish or a potential meal. All based around a certain context. Beautiful to the eye and satiating to the stomach. It's amazing how we can admire a life only to take it away and soak up its energy. It's the cycle of life they like to tell us. No energy is lost. It's a constant cycle and that little thing we call life has an implicit opposite we like to call "death". All things return to where they came from. In different forms and different arrangements. Just passing through in different forms and flavors. None of them specifically here for "us", but we like to think we are the center of attention. The "I". The center from where all things are projected. How genius and silly we are at the same time. How quaint and wonderful.
So that process from ocean to plate is a beautiful one. There is beauty and technique in the catch. A skill set that some may take for granted. The patience and manpower just for a few minutes of even seconds of mouth pleasure. Full on our own power to control what we crave. A bearded man with scarred hands has made a living delivering that slimy and scaly fella to your wet mouth. Alas, we see the fish on ice in the supermarket just waiting to be arranged by garnishes and erudite side dishes. Thrown in a pot of vegetables and salt or slapped on a heated surface to cook to crispy goodness.
Don't you worry. The fish had a good life. I mean a bigger fish didn't get to it now did it? Here we are. Humanity with the quick ability to snatch a life from its habitat. Taking a piece from the ecosystem for own energy needs. Don't worry. The fish will make fish as long as we do not get too extreme. The depletion of the oceans seems like a very real thing that could happen, but we could use our powers for good and create more fish. Bigger and better fish. Fish curtailed to our own unique taste buds. Designer fish if you will. Maybe even fish that won't make some of us feel so guilty from snatching from the school from which it came from.
To catch a fish:
To Keep
or
Release.
DG
There's a flow of information in that piece of meat on the plate. There is value in it. Certainly if you do not eat it then some animal or thing in nature will. It will go back to the energy of the system. The cycle that helped bring it into existence in the first place. A balance of order, chaos and the need to keep on moving forward. Moving different units of energy across different organisms and processes. A delightful dance of calculated spontaneity and energy allocation. To think that these natural processes even care about what we think seems rather absurd, but yet we feel like we can wrangle it like a bull.
Ah! Put a pair of buns between this meat and you have a deal! A sandwich and macro-nutrient marriage for those of the most hunger stricken. An animal that once ate all day the plentiful green grass brought into being by the power of the sun is now part of a constructed albeit popularized food construct. There is indeed power in that process. People tend to fly so close to the sun not realizing how much we are dependent on its energy in everything we do.
There's an empty pod just out of orbit. There use to be someone in there. There are crumbs from a trail and granola mix combo and sweaty greasy marks on the what appears to be futuristic looking arm rests. It's a lonely pod just floating through space. The left side of it takes a quick glare from the sun that reflects back into the camera. It is you. You sit in another pod just looking at the empty pod in front of you. The silence if deafening, but also eerily comforting. There is a low rumble in the background, but nothing to write home about.
We are a long way from home, but we made it outside the earth's atmosphere and farther than we thought we could go. It is no mistake. It is that relentless ambition that drives our species to go over and beyond. Both in a literal and metaphorical sense. To go into the depths of the unknown and hopefully discover new things about ourselves that we never thought we would say. Space seems to act like a mirror. A deep glimpse into an eternal emptiness.
Little do we realize that we are electricity. Conduits for little chemical reactions and reverse polarities. It's all in the balance and it's an absolute miracle where are all here. In fact, we are gathered here today to take a look at ourselves. To turn that third eye inwards to the somewhat confusing and alarming center that most of us try so hard to escape. What does it feel like when we don't have a head full of images? Can nothing and darkness repel us from making more progress on who we think we can be? There's so many possibilities that its overwhelming.
Take a breath.
The ship docks at a harbor. The horn startles you. After all you were caught in between the gaps of thoughts staring into space with a stoic look on your face. You're a long way from home, but that doesn't bother you. There's something comforting about being by the bay where you could hop on a ship at any moment's notice and make your way to a brand new location with familiar bells and whistles. A crowd of people make their way off the ship. All pleasantly uppity from being cooped up on the water for so long. With their feet significantly wet, some of them lock arms and make their way down the ramp with reckless abandon. A man in a top hat makes it to the concrete platform away from the ramp and leans down to touch the luke-warm ground with his left palm. It was an act of grounding. A sign of self respect and the beginning of a new journey. The man with top hat gets up rather fast and appears to succumb to a very minute spout of dizziness. He simply got up too fast, but his equilibrium rebooted just in time. After a few seconds, a seagull flies over and defecates on to the top of the top hat. All good moments must come to a close. What a segue.
The ocean is vast with salty deliciousness. There are so many endless pits submerged with so much mystery. Flooded phantoms and hungry fish. Alas we can see these beautiful creatures as fish or a potential meal. All based around a certain context. Beautiful to the eye and satiating to the stomach. It's amazing how we can admire a life only to take it away and soak up its energy. It's the cycle of life they like to tell us. No energy is lost. It's a constant cycle and that little thing we call life has an implicit opposite we like to call "death". All things return to where they came from. In different forms and different arrangements. Just passing through in different forms and flavors. None of them specifically here for "us", but we like to think we are the center of attention. The "I". The center from where all things are projected. How genius and silly we are at the same time. How quaint and wonderful.
So that process from ocean to plate is a beautiful one. There is beauty and technique in the catch. A skill set that some may take for granted. The patience and manpower just for a few minutes of even seconds of mouth pleasure. Full on our own power to control what we crave. A bearded man with scarred hands has made a living delivering that slimy and scaly fella to your wet mouth. Alas, we see the fish on ice in the supermarket just waiting to be arranged by garnishes and erudite side dishes. Thrown in a pot of vegetables and salt or slapped on a heated surface to cook to crispy goodness.
Don't you worry. The fish had a good life. I mean a bigger fish didn't get to it now did it? Here we are. Humanity with the quick ability to snatch a life from its habitat. Taking a piece from the ecosystem for own energy needs. Don't worry. The fish will make fish as long as we do not get too extreme. The depletion of the oceans seems like a very real thing that could happen, but we could use our powers for good and create more fish. Bigger and better fish. Fish curtailed to our own unique taste buds. Designer fish if you will. Maybe even fish that won't make some of us feel so guilty from snatching from the school from which it came from.
To catch a fish:
To Keep
or
Release.
DG
Comments
Post a Comment