Singing lonely songs

Lonely songs, bad rhymes, and hypocritical whining are a perfect combination, are a perfect representation of shallow, hollow, banal, trivial globalized pop culture. For instance:

Electric lights brighten our nights
Outshining moon and stars

Electric noise, technical toys
Traffic’s permanent scars

We are replacing natures music
Why do we work so hard to lose it?
And for what ends do we abuse it?
Why are we lying to excuse it?

Beautiful leaves and blooms are printed
And natures glory may be hinted

While concrete, steel, or plastic buries
The soil and all of life it carries

What’s left are flickering pictures
On the screens set up around us

They ask me: Why do you sing your lonely tunes? It doesn’t make any sense, you will not achieve anything and you just waste your time.

I’m not lonely, I’m singing with a world wide choir of revolutionaries.

They ask me: But why do you sing openly then? They will arrest you and maybe kill you.

This is very unlikely. They will not take any action because they don’t understand my lyrics. I sing about gardening and healthy food, about animal protection and about meditation.

I don’t sing about a revolutionary struggle, about blood on the street, about guns and bombs, about burned down palaces and hastily erected guillotines.

The revolution which we, the members of the world wide choir, envision will not be violent. The revolution will not be an armed struggle and it will not end in a blood bath. 

The revolution will not be televised and it will not be announced on social media or YouTube. The revolution will come quietly, suddenly, and it will not be noticed by the ruling billionaires, generals, and political leaders till the very last moment.

One morning the rulers will just wake up and be beggars. They will be told that their mansions and private islands and superyachts from this day on belong to the public and not to them anymore. They may be allowed graciously to stay at their mansion in a small room and work as a janitor or a modestly paid office clerk, but when they act disruptive or disorderly they will be chased out.

The superyacht crews may release them on remote islands where they can go on with their lives as they please till the rising tides of the rising seas will sweep them away.

Our heritage is outrage,
Abhorrence is our fame.
The most invasive species
Is solely to blame.

The principles of our history
Are ignorance and evil violence,
Are desecration, annihilation,
Are liquidation, extermination.

Since our appearance the evidence
Is mounting and the guilt is haunting,
That human action means destruction,
Our violence causes natures silence.

Our legacy is monstrosity
And fellow creatures rightful hate us.
But the extinction will not go on
And one day humans will be done.

One day the verdict will be dramatic
On evidence of our ignorance
Of infamy, monstrosity,
Brutality, savagery.

One day the court will sit together
About how life could be made better,
And natures judgement 
Will mean our end.

They say: You are dreaming. How can you achieve a fundamental change without huge organizations, parties, unions, millions protesting on the streets, general strikes, mutinies, and the physical elimination of the ruling class?

Nobody will take you seriously. You are irrelevant, and that is good for you, because the authorities will not even bother to punish you for singing about your weird ideas.

I will be irrelevant if I stay alone and unconnected. But as we sing our tunes we will find trusted friends and will be able to create a secret network, a sisterhood and brotherhood, impenetrable and resilient.

The most gifted humans will join us and they will discuss ideas and plans that no other humans until now dared to develop and pursue. They will detect the key vulnerabilities of the system, the will turn the tools of oppression against the oppressors. They will block tiny but essential cogs in the big machines to make the machines stop and to end the deafening cacophony of industrial noise.

Forests of my youth are gone
Barren lands, where I come from
Birdsongs’ fading memory
Noise from traffic, industry
Did we not feel empathy?
Not mind shame and infamy?

They say: You are a hopeless and incorrigible fantast. The most gifted humans will be hired by the billionaires. They will get a generous paycheck and will be appointed to prestigious positions. They will write the code for the most effective surveillance software, they will develop the most deadly weapons to ensure world hegemony, and they will invent new sophisticated financial tools or improve the existing ones to siphon off and skim off even more wealth to the billionaires via the big banks and international financial institutions.

No, the most gifted humans will not be easily brainwashed, and therefore they will realize soon that nothing less than natures and humanities survival is at stake. The most gifted humans will be shocked and horrified by this realization, they will think about it comprehensively and make their conclusions, which will be that they either have to quit, drop out, flee and join the underground movement,  or become covert agents of the secret sisterhoods and brotherhoods.

Albert Einstein would have joined the secret brotherhood, but at his time the existential threat to nature and humanity was not es visible as it is today and a fundamental political, social, and cultural change was not as urgent as it is today.

Monuments of concrete, steel
Reach into the sky,
Make you ask, can this be real?
Make you wonder, why?

Fancy tools, that never help us,
Gadgets, which only distract us,
Life, with all its modern comfort
May be meaningless and short.

As we walk on glittering pavements,
Guessing, searching, making judgements,
Lacking prudence and persistence,
Failing, slowly loosing patience.

Ask again, what is the deal?
What’s the longing that we feel?
As we walk through life’s ordeal,
Will the ailments ever heal?

They say: The rulers control everything and they have taken precautions against sabotage, obstruction, and disruption. They have fortified their palaces, security guards are everywhere, all communication is intercepted. Nothing is left to chance and the ones who get in their way will be crushed.

Wrong! They are not invincible and their system is not as solid as it seems. They believe in technological progress and consequently base their rule on technology, especially on electronic media, electronic communication, computer software, and artificial intelligence.

The software which they use, with millions of processor commands and code so complicated, that not even an army of programmers will be able to clean it up and eliminate all errors, could contain backdoors and security vulnerabilities. We have seen how easy it is, to get unauthorized access to top secret databases, to invade internal networks, to stop crucial software from functioning.

What can they do, when one day all their communication is blocked, when media channels are hijacked by insurgents, when their servers, software, databases, and all backup data are controlled by the insurgency? They will be holed up in their palaces and nobody will follow their commands because they will not be able to send them out.

Are humans evil, reckless?
Are they careless and feckless?
Are they just stupid, clueless?
And is their case now hopeless?

Survival of the meanest
And suffering of the weakest,
No mercy for the youngest,
No pity for the oppressed.

Nobody tried in earnest,
Nobody asked the powerless,
The plans they made were useless
Just adding to your distress.

They ask: So you are singing to find collaborators, but will that be enough?

And I write self-righteously:

I try to live the change, I try to give an example. I sing about it in my songs and everybody can visit me and look, if I tell the truth. My personal conduct is not perfect and there’s still much left to be desired, but I can at least show the way. I can show that change is possible.

When I die, I will have done what I possibly could. I will go with a pure and peaceful heart; I will go with a smile on my face, hoping that I have contributed to natures and humanities survival.

I cringe, as I read what I’ve just written. How insincere, sanctimonious, and hypocritical!

If I look at my life in retrospective, If I look at it from the distance, am I not just another white supremacists, a pampered Westerner, participating in the exploitation of nature and the colonial exploitation of the so-called “developing nations”?

I own a car, live in a house much too big for me, I have enough savings to get me through any emergencies, I have comprehensive health insurance, all communal services are working, there is no crime, no political repression, no violence and war.

Admittedly, the biosphere is poisoned here like everywhere else on the planet, contaminated with man-made chemicals like POPs (persistent organic pollutants — the dirty dozen) and heavy metals which big corporations mine and disburse carelessly. 

Contamination though is a bit less than average because this is a rural area and all the dangerous stuff is produced far away in China, India, Vietnam, and other “emerging” economies, then bought cheaply and transported in gigantic container ships to Europe.

But let’s not get lost in details, I just want to make the point that my whining about environmental pollution is basically not altruistic, humanitarian, caring, it is pure self interest. 

So, am I a fake, a fraud, a quack like all the other pretenders, deceivers, tricksters, fakers who fill a few pages on the internet?

You decide, you can leave this website at any time, unsubscribe the blog, and forget about it. I wish you the best, and if you kindly give me some feedback I’ll be thankful. I will take any criticism, suggestions, and recommendations seriously.

As the cream on the cake, this is the right moment to add another stale and platitudinous love song to the millions of heartfelt, tearful love songs which already exist:

A friendly sun shines on my empty bed,
The weather’s nice, yet I’m depressed and sad.
No joy here in this grey and lonely place,
No laughter fills the dark and empty space.

Its warm and friendly, fresh and bright outside.
Its cold inside, but I am weak and hide.
I close all curtains, I can’t face the outside,
I lock the door, I’ve lost my sense, my pride.

And when you visit, bring things, fill the empty space;
Maybe some flowers to make this a friendlier place.
And when you leave, please leave these things behind;
You shouldn’t leave, I couldn’t bear it, lose my mind.

Open all curtains, let the sunlight flow inside.
Please take my hand, unlock the door, open it wide;
To have a silent walk, hand in hand outside,
And then make love, warming each other, inside.

Feeling pain and deep resentment
Bliss, peace, ease, complete enchantment

I better stop now. Don’t worry about me, I’m lucid and clear like spring water. I have to admit, writing this post was fun and I don’t give a damn about anything! Before I forget:

I love you all! 

A happy New Year!