Awakening

Cosmic Winter Wonderland
Cosmic “Winter” Wonderland — NASA

Awakening

No awakening, no struggle for social justice nor fight for civil rights, no undermining of authority, is ever complete that ignores the plights of the most vulnerable, the animals. The right of self-determination for all earthlings. The respect of life and liberty for all sentients is the doom of all war and oppression, the gateway to meaningful peace. Until then, we gather what we sow. And nothing more.

Trivial Pursuits

Picture courtesy: Dig Out Your Soul

People ask, what I do,
alluding to employment
as if a career could define me
(or…resign me?)
I tell them, I am vegan
Vegan is what I do
All else is backdrop,
the occupation
of trivial pursuits

So, when they boast
of bacon, ham, or roast

I have only this for them, Fuck Off!
Most sincerely.

This is War

This is War
Image: Animals Australia

This is war.

I’ve championed peace and struggled against undercurrents for far too long when all along war raced torrents through my veins.

Like screeching banshees clawing their way from Hade’s bowels, I cannot restrain my lust for war any longer.

War has proved the normality of our species and served many, many faithfully well; adding treasures to the coffers of serious self-concern.

To deny war is to deny my manhood as it is to deny our Creator Himself, the Miserable God, and His warring belligerents.

And I am but a lowly, ignorant form.

And so, I yield to the Lordly ways that our species has so aptly adorned.

War shall be my comrade, my pleasure. My desire.

My duty.

Alas! The passive has withered and died and now from the ashes, I rise and cry: Warrior!

My face I paint.

I feel as though the pressing weight of Peaceful Hope has flown from my shoulders.

I can breathe, again.

I am a man, destined and fit to do battle!

The warrior.

And I challenge any who oppose me, fight. Fight as though all you cherish is at risk, as though your very livelihood depends on it. Because it does.

And I will be your formidable opponent, my word.

As our gracious Lords, have demonstrated time and again with their momentous and unmerciful wars of conquest, their farcical wars against drugs, their charade of wars against cancer, their pretense wars against obesity, their fictive wars against poverty, their collaborative wars against crime, their wars against every manner known to God or man, war is by their blessing example, honorable.

And I am an honorable man.

So, comes the time to declare my war, the war against the oppression of the most vulnerable and harmless among us, our fellow sentients. Those that you imagine feel no pain nor harbor desire for life. Those who you humiliate and call animals with contempt in your tone, those whose tortured remains you feast on with the least of concern; those who I’ve vowed their liberty to protect, I call friends. Them you kill or have killed in your name — and in the most horrific and shocking manner.

And for what do they suffer and die?

To feed the Spirit of War.

Innocent blood is on the hands of a rotten humanity wrought from the war slung venom that flows through painless hearts.

Make no mistake, this is a war. Where no bombs explode, no bullets fly no fires rage into the sky no sirens blare no medics care, and no war criminal is ever, ever held to account.

But it is a wickedly merciless endless war nonetheless that murders more earthlings than all other wars combined.

And for this, humanity holds itself blameless, for they are a shameless warring species.

This is war.

The battle of compassion versus cruelty, understanding versus indifference, right versus wrong.

And I am the warrior, wielding the Sword of Words, multi-edged, lightning-sharp, indisputable, and indestructible.

And I challenge you, the enemies of freedom, fight. Fight as though every lie you’ve faithfully accepted from the vomit of Authority depends on it. Because it does.

I am the warrior. Stand ready, this is war.

Simulation Hypothesis

Cosmic Winter Wonderland
Cosmic “Winter” Wonderland — Image via NASA

Of all things in the mighty universe,
the planets, moons, stars, and unfathomed space.
And so many life forms that came to be:
in the forest, hills, plains, mountains, and sea.
Of all inanimate objects there are,
why did I become this man that I am?
A curse, a blessing, my soul’s regressing.
Oh, why couldn’t I just never have been?
Never have end for never had begin!
There are no answers, and yet I drudge on,
knowing well the answer will never dawn.

We have no explanations, only dubious hypotheses to questions of our origin, our purpose if any. Only fools profess to know the unknowable. Myself, I can’t help but wonder, is it all an illusion, the fancy profusion of fake realities? A computer simulation, a binary stimulation? A contest, to see who wins and who loses. Who rises above the cruel and mundane? Then what is the prize awaiting the wise? And what of the fate of the losers?

Simulation Hypothesis

Veil of Illusions

All your life, you’ve been lied to, manipulated, influenced, persuaded, baited, and cajoled to do things you would never have done, to believe things you would never have considered had they left you to your will.

And the worst part, you never had a clue.

That’s how Authority’s mind controlling venoms work, keeping you unaware and assured that you’re free to decide and act on your own while managing your every thought.

The antidote to these governing toxins resides in your willingness to see the freedom entitled every Earthling. Liberty lay just beyond the Veil of Illusions.


Kenmore and Craftsman, pictured above, nicknamed Yoda and Buddy-L. rescued  June 2016, by my son-in-law, Ricky Asmus, from a K-Mart dumpster. Innocent Earthlings discarded as trash by a dreg.

Their eyes closed and their umbilical cords dangled, newborns in a world short on compassion, yet miraculously finding a hero in the Seas of Cruelty.

They are now the equivalent of teenagers, a few months older than the picture; rambunctious, happy and healthy residing with us in our country home.

The Sway of Enlightenment

The Sway of Enlightenment

By The Bright of Knowing

Do your eyes see what others have hidden?
Do your ears hear the pleas of muted cries?
Does your grief reflect what others reject?
Do you comprehend concepts they despise?
Enter you, The Sway of Enlightenment.
Where dregs lie within Tombs of Yesterday.
Where your eyes light by the Bright of Knowing.
Where your ears discern Tones of Awareness.
Where pleasures paid debt to final Sorrows.
There you’ll live in the Sway of Tomorrow,
Today

Lamentations of a Veganarchist

THE ANARCHIST

The anarchist worth their salt must, by virtue of justice, be vegan.

THE ENVIRONMENTALIST

The environmentalist worthy their goal must, by necessity, be vegan.

THE ROAD TO SLAUGHTER

Few know the melancholy, the utter sorrow seething from deep within the souls of compassion, seeing our comrades, their noses pressed hard against the slats for their last and final breath of fresh air, crammed into a hauler on the Road to Slaughter.

IS IT

Is it tolerance or is it surrender?
Is it acceptance or is it cowardice?
Is it bravery or is it bravado?
Is it wisdom or is it vanity?
That you serve.

THE GUARDIAN OF DEATH

The Empire is the Guardian of Death, unremorseful and empowered by its constituency. But let one man kill another, no matter how just, then the Nation will punish him, malign him, and parade him as an aberration to justice, a base murderer, and its society will reproach him as infamy follows him beyond the grave.

ATTENTION

To those who pay attention, humanity is horrid.

AS YOU BREATH

As you breathe, millions of earthlings suffer in unimaginably hideous ways and all by the conceit of our species. Do not for one moment think all is well or improving lest you be lulled into complacency.

BROADER PERSPECTIVE

The evolution of broader perspective is stymied by obsolescence: God, government, culture, tradition, ritual, and petty, selfish, gluttonous concerns. These, the albatrosses of humanity weigh irrevocable on the backs of Liberty and Justice.

VEGANISM

Explaining veganism to a dreg is like explaining the universe to a fish in the ocean. Where dregs swim happily unaware in their Sea of Illusions, where waves of frivolous distractions crash upon the shores of Fragile Morality.

MY ALLEGIANCE

My allegiance is to no religious or political sway. Only to liberty and her innocent do I pledge my loyalty, my life. For I exist as free as any man can who lives under the oppression of Authority. My mind is unruled by the whims of man, his Government of Destruction, and his God of Misery.

DEATH, HER LIBERTY

Some fear death.
But it is this life that corrals my trepidations.
Death then holds my liberty.

The Meat Eater’s Menu

As vegans and vegetarians who visit restaurants know, it’s depressing to read menus vividly describing the cut, battered, fried, and grilled body parts of our friends. We scan the list of horrid realities in hopes to find something suitable to our refined and evolved cruelty-free tastes.

So, to offer these mindless gluttonous flesh-eating fiends a taste of our pain, I’ve deviously devised this fictitious menu specifically tailored to those of a bloodlust persuasion. And any offense taken is hoped for and well deserved. Enjoy.

The Meat Eater’s Menu

Now with extra GMOs and high in sodium and fats in every bite.
Brought to you by, Zombies Unite, a division of Zombies Galore, Inc.

Groin of Redneck

A tender pair of succulent testicles marinated in their own spirits, grilled to perfection. Served with a cut of pickled foreskin.

Bastard Balls

A generous portion of stir-fried jewels served in a crispy nut sack.

Tit of Wench

A full cup of all natural breast, soaked in its own creamy curd.

Wiener of Whoreson

Served on a sesame seed bun smothered with your favorite bodily excrements, limit two.

Callous of Toe

Only the most hardened toes aged in a rich and pungent toe jam. Served with a side of Fungal Toenails.

Nipples of the Sexes

The house specialty. An assortment of nipple chips, battered and deep-fried. Available as an appetizer or as a main course.

Blabbering Tongue

Flame broiled and served steamy hot with a side of chilled cheekbone.

Clogged Arteries

A plateful of clogged and hardened veins and arteries pulled fresh each night.

Tumorous Growth

A ghastly growth straight from the operating table to ours. Served in a bowl of its own zesty juices with your choice of either Fungal Toenails or Pickled Foreskin. (Portion size varies depending on the tumor.)

Joint of Gout

Gnaw on our fresh and reddened-to-perfection flesh, ball and socket for days on end. Available for take-out only.

All rights reserved, Zombies Galore, Inc.

Killing, Get It?

Enormous beef plants are designed to process large volumes of arriving cattle. After cattle are stunned, they are bled out on the Cargill production line in Dodge City, Kan. They then go through a "carcass wash;" their hides are removed; and the cattle are cut into pieces. (Keith Myers/The Kansas City Star)
Enormous beef plants are designed to process large volumes of arriving cattle. After cattle are stunned, they are bled out on the Cargill production line in Dodge City, Kan. They then go through a “carcass wash;” their hides are removed; and the cattle are cut into pieces. (Keith Myers/The Kansas City Star) [How lovely.]

Fellow earthlings hang. Excited hearts now pump faintly their last drops of life as blood flows a river inside the abattoir. White-robed overlords oversee with heartless glee the demand the people place upon them.

Killing.

It’s what humans do. I get it, now.

The government gets it. Man, do they ever.

Hunters, anglers, trappers all get it, and they get it well.

Every flesh-eater gets it; they cause it, abnormally so, and to their liking.

The slaughterhouse business is a boom, and they get, and take it all the way to the bank, who gets it.

The prison system gets it, with itchy fingers can’t wait.

Cops and soldiers get it, they signed up to get it.

Kill. Kill. Kill, for fuck’s sake.

It’s everywhere, and it’s 24/7/365.25.

Killing.

No big deal, right? I get it.

But hey, let a news story break, a tragic accident, a natural catastrophe, shooting, people killed, animals hurt. An empathetic twinkle sparks inside an otherwise numb-skull, and suddenly the Androids get all emotional, teary eyed. Heartfelt.

Really?

What the hell?

Somebody got killed.

So what?

Who cares?

Nobody. That’s who.

After their obligatory sorrow drowns in its evanescent grief, everything’s hunky-dory. Enervated emotions are restored. Now back to the business of kill and let kill until the next spate of death hits the public airwaves. Then guess what? Suddenly sparked, fleeting superficialities ignite once again with an emasculated flare-up.

Why bother with silly transitory sentiment?

Killing.

It’s what humans do, by fuck. They KILL!

Rejoice!

Killing, a tradition we can’t live without, by participating within.

America, Where Are You Now?

It doesn’t say who bombed the shelter. Even if it did, it would only be more finger pointing instead of fact. Misinformation and disinformation are the norms, and the USA may well be the leader in that arena.

What we do know is that America provokes and escalates violence and instability throughout the world and therefore is no less culpable.

The video has enlivened in me an emotion lying just beneath a thinning surface: America, where are you now?

The violence that America perpetrates in the name of national security is an elaborate hoax. Wars are the lifeblood of its burgeoning political-corporate-military-industrial complex.

War, as with the oppression of animals, many livelihoods depend on. And thus America has become addicted. A junkie strung out and unreasoned, convinced that war and animal flesh are both good and needed.

This never-ending violence angers me to never-ending.

I joined the USAF near the end of the Vietnam war, a confused young man. I stayed state-side, and so I don’t associate as a Vietnam vet, per se. Nonetheless, the stigma remains. However, the point I’d like to make is this, my final disillusionment in the people of a country I believed at one time desired peace.

Foolishly, I thought peace was the goal. And, I believed it attainable.

I saw the mass demonstrations during the Vietnam war. Young people fled to Canada. People burned their draft cards. Students protested, and four were gunned down at Kent State. The Ohio National Guard willfully turned its guns on unarmed, nonthreatening young American citizens and opened fire, a tragedy now nearly forgotten, known as the May 4 Massacre.

Inside me, I knew that once this war was over America would never fight another. Its people had had enough of war. Enough of sending their sons and daughters off to die in foreign lands. Enough of executing its citizens on the home ground.

Likewise, I knew that when people saw the brutal reality of animal agriculture veganism would become a wave that swept the entire world in compassion.

Was I ever wrong?

War protests are now a blemish on American history.

Animal enslavement has reached epidemic proportions.

The peace and love movement had died a silent, lonely death. Its aging hippies now very much defending the status quo. Trading bell-bottoms and paisley print for suit and tie. Peace for war.

To speak out against war is unpatriotic. To express discontent, the act of a traitor.

War is what we are; it defines us. Violence is what we do, daily in our lives, to the people, to the animals. It is on our plates, literally; and from there its escalation has no end.

And peace? Well, that’s just a word, a concept I can no longer believe in.

Although my bell-bottoms and paisley prints live only in the faded snapshots of an era long ago, I never have nor will I ever own a suit and tie. These are the garments worn by the representatives of Authority. They serve as a constant reminder of oppression and war.

As I write this, as relevant then as now, Steppenwolf’s, Monster, plays in the background and asks, “America, where are you now…Don’t you know we need you? We can’t fight alone against the monster.”