Where Did You Acquire the Hand-Parasite?

I am afraid — no, [ redacted ] that. I am certain. I am certain that when I see, as I do daily, young mothers slowly trundling up the street with a small child who is staring at his or her shoes or the ground (or looking into his or her empty hand as though there should be a godlike ill-umination there)…

{ and aye gods there is one that if I showed those children would make them leap with joy and possibly -levitate with wonder… and where is a single parent who knows THIS TOY? }

… I am witness to a kind of holocaust. One as severe, if specific and invisible, as any other — if only for its bald ubiquity and furiously increasing forms and faculties of relational and attentional amputation.

A holocaust of conversion. Penetration. Domination… and rape — of endless arrays of ever-younger victims. I am witness to an ongoing storm of ambient holocausts that, apparently, we are all aching to exacerbate. And celebrate. And fund. Wildly. New species of relational and attentional abuse as severe — if more vast, specific and invisible — than any other; and far more momentous for their inclusiveness. A furiously virulent army of shining graveyards dressed as godhood.

It is a legendary moment. What is it we are hemorrhaging? The developmental future of terrestrial ecology, human intelligence, meaning… and ‘shildren’’s minds. Ecologies. Possibilities. Birthrights.

Adult intelligences. Replaced. Before they could be discovered or developed. Stolen. Sold back to us in effigy? In fetish?

Not millions. Billions. And it is precipitously accelerating. Imagine… a kind of concentration camp… that magnified its victims, and amputations, every week. And just went deeper and deeper into their minds, lives, cultures… dreams… heartbeats… and even they own cells… until… they were simply unable to understand that they had anything to lose.

At all. Because their eyes had been remade by the parasites they adored. And their hands, of course. But more importantly… the invisible eyes-within-unity that are the peculiar and necessary birthright of human persons and cultures throughout time.

Shriven. Alive.

Of our -transentience in unity of learning/seeking. Yes. And every other noble thing and birthright. Here. Now. Shriven.

Of all that is most precious and invisible. For who amongst us has divested themselves entire of the celestial child who is the core strand of our being? The primal pole around which the spiral of our life-rings trace the course of years and dreams?

And this is what is going away. For little boxes. Shiny machines. A graveyard wrapped in glories smooth and fictional.

To kill us. Not later, yesterday.

Far away. Inside ourselves. Were what is amputated, won’t be missed. After all, it was -never developed. Suppose that you -were born to develop inner eyes, and you had to learn to use them before they worked at all, and you were so threatened by anyone who suggested that you had not already done so that you had to either attack, ignore, or defame them…

… how would you begin to see? At all? Ever?

Because you are texting? Seriously? What in the living [ redacted ] of dessicated yak [ redacted ] are you texting? The next wave of human intelligence that will lift your world from a swarming prison into wonder? A new form of human cooperation that finally raises our ecologies and planet us out of nuclear crosshairs of our staggeringly lethal stupidity into something vaguely resembling active, beautiful … astonishing… progress?

No? What the [ redacted ] IS it? What are you dying and killing the future of our minds… to text about!?

Because those little boxes?

Are eating what is truly holy. Whatever the [ redacted ] that may now be.

In 7 new ways… every 12 seconds. And in 7 new children, every moment. And what they are eating?

Are the senses, skills, and potentials that they amputate and sell us the glorified skeletal remains of. Trinkets. Text blocs. Images with words on them?

These, we call fashions. We now have them… …instead… of ecologies, minds, nature, or culture.

And they are contagiously predatory parasites who are networked and -vastly more intelligent than you. When they exchange data? Your blood is drawn. Now, and in every future transaction. Directly. In 12 ways you have already been pre-blinded to.

Little boxes. In your hands.

Shiny as the stars.

I must inquire; can you still see those? Because I promise… as they disappear in the pollution and light of your machines… the eyes of our souls, futures, gifts and dreams… go with them.

Unless we stand together… in every moment. From now… until forever.

We used to … with every movement and gesture… weave together living constellations of shockingly productive mutuality, intelligence, humor, insight… wonder… and challenge.

And this is what we stand to retrieve… if we can only begin… to re-member each other and the living places and beings. Into our constellations. Together. With and for each other, the history of Life on Earth, and our World.

No other destiny is worthy. Indeed, no other choice is human.

Or survivable.

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