Sepher Ehben: Hymns to the Logos — A call to Prayer for the disaffected

Political ideologues, intellectually un-deft, bereft of nuance and subtly, convinced of the Reich-ness of their dis-position. Gulags of…

Political ideologues, intellectually un-deft, 
bereft of nuance and subtly, 
convinced of the Reich-ness 
of their dis-position. 
Gulags of thought crimes 
imposed by states of consciousness 
corrupted by a seed of infatalizing help 
wrapped in a cognitive cancer 
metastasizing when it does not 
receive prognosis.

Hatfields and McCoy’s 
locked into a blood feud of inbred thought, 
raucous lobsters, 
shit throwing monkeys. 
None being able 
to pull their heads out of their a..nger long enough…
to step back and observe 
the entirety of the situation 
their crude brutality in response to provocation 
and the dismal ignorance of their consternation 
because their minds 
are just busy bees 
until their queen 
is sorted
in her nest.

Their war horse is just a pack mule 
ready to fall off a cliff 
carrying the baggage of…
who the fuck knows their masters or motivations… 
into personal oblivion. 
These beasts of burden 
have no clear reckoning 
of their own intent 
or desires. 
They have no king 
who can cleave the language 
or constructs 
of a self-evident treaty that will leave 
the well-being of the contested child intact…

Their multiplication is bad, 
division is bad, 
addition and subtraction are sins 
and hierarchy is damnation, 
confined to evil 
are basic principles of organization? 
I’ve heard a thousand crystal palace stories 
and they all fracture 
under the lightest stress

So don’t tell me,

SHOW me how your fantasy or delusion is different…

So hyper-attenuated is the envelope 
of perception and response, 
constrained and filtered to a projection of insult 
triggered by any and all stimulus 
that doesn’t fit their comfort zone 
or construct of how 
“people are supposed to be or act”. 
Beta-male jihadis, antifas and allies 
rising from the destruction 
of all functional structure, 
opportunity 
and meaning 
except…
the responsibilities of others 
projected onto the inadequacy 
of your ability 
to fill the hollow dream 
that you bathed in 
while you danced 
in its barren 
and diminishing 
light

The childish ignorance 
of having a single word or phrase 
explaining a world view…
so intellectually unrefined…
could such a crude answer 
stand the frontiers of your curiosity? 
test the limits of every methodology within your grasp? 
Surely this mantra of yours 
that you’ve built the foundation of your WHOLE identity ON 
shouldn’t be a castle in the sand 
unless you are a child on the beach 
lost in the imagination 
of a sunny afternoon

Or does your mantra run like 
the thump, thump, thump of a helicopter parent?
washing over the personal boundaries 
of everyone in sight 
hovering with anxious neuroticism 
to ensure everything is nerfed 
and no firm boundaries 
or sharp contradictions 
should ever present themselves 
in the comfort zone that extends 
as far as your eyes or pixels might reach

If you want to be treated like an adult 
then fucking act like one 
and keep your ego state 
in check 
and 
stop 
trying 
to project 
the misery of 
YOUR failed responsibilities 
onto the dignity 
of other human beings…
Clean your room…
expand your domains of mastery over self 
and clean the rooms of your inner being. 
Build a wing for all those things 
you wish to do in your life 
and don’t let it become decrepit

Build a terrace 
to step back and observe your garden 
of earthly delights with some objectivity 
and see that they are both tended and orderly 
so that you may enjoy them 
and they do not entrap others

But most importantly, 
build your inner sanctum, 
your secret vault 
and holy of holies 
and in all the accumulations 
of your travels and adventures 
into glory 
and descents 
into misery and turmoil 
never keep anything in there 
that hasn’t proven itself 
to be truly worthy

You can cover yourself 
in golden accouterments 
or hide them in a lair 
under the watchful eye 
of a green dragon 
or you can transcend 
the crude little meat bag…
and collect those things 
which irradiate golden opportunities 
upon you 
and those around you

You can collect those things 
that provided a glimmer of hope 
in abject darkness 
or a tested and tempered strand of thought 
to pick the locks 
of self-imposed psychological prison cells 
of deprivation and neglect 
faced by the prisoners of war 
of these tin soldier battles
and bring some light 
into the world

By Jason Medland on July 20, 2018.

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Exported from Medium on March 4, 2019.