As Above So Not As Below. (even unto hexagonal excremences)/ "broligocene" beast-bros/edgar allen poetry.

 

 ... Fabulous ... just great ... 

 

 The Earthly Sphere.

 

The Nietzschean viewpoint, imagined Nietzschean worm, not the great hero, is hardly one of aspirational Erlkönig and Olympic Nebelstreif .

 

This is a perspective from Earth, not from the Antiomnicause of Memes as Gods and eternal "return" like McArthur to, well, not British Isles. 

 

 Some things are undeniable, bare, naked, stubborn "facts," not "interpretations" of goings viral.

 

Take America, once populated by American Indians.

 

Now repopulated by public, very public, very visible, Indian Americans. 

 

 

 Romantic, Sylvan, even some groups considered "savage," a cognate of "sylvan" of xylan, "hostiles" and peaceful settled pueblo or "Apollonian" sober variety, or assortment. They were here. They were real. And like some minor planet, are exiled out beyond the "cyber" sphere into superannuatedness and trashed by unwitting yet transhumannoying Yang-Yinnyhood.

 

This is tragic.  Did Memes play a role? 

 

 Hell Fire.

 

Not only that,  global warming.  Flooding, flash forward to Camp Mystic and creepy crawly internet types talking about "some of those girls had grand parents who attended lynchings."

... 

 

These "tweets" are not, were not, Memes.  They were actual earthly "in" real life, not mighty majesties, only merely just effectively hexagonal excremences. 

 

Is there a minor Meme, analogous to some lesser God, who does this?

 

The Nietzschean prospect is one where there is no Eternal Everst, no One God, Whose viewpoint is somehow more than any other "objective" and somehow or why privileged.

 

There is none. 

 

But there is our warming planet.  "Climate Change" might capture the extremes which are not only heat, but depths of freezing, wind, and rain, Hell, but also hail.

 

And no "Hail Mary." 

 

Say what you want, no Marian anthem, no "Ave Maria" will not fail to fall on silent horror on eerie yet empty Earth.

 

In real life. 

 

Finisterre. 

 

 Just two examples, where Kevin Sorbo will not save us.

 

 Xylan Rex nemorensis und so weiter ...

 

No sitting bull, nor Sitting Bull.  No erythronephi, no "Nephi," nor Red Cloud.  

 

Geronimo is now instead in puerile play,  "Cowabunga" even in Cucamonga, or Duarte, 

 

Azusa 'Zeus', or Man in Maze. Amazed no more, tell-tale drumming from beneath the floor.

 

All "Hohokam." those who've vanished into desert varnish. 

 

This is Edgar Allen Poetry.  

 

Homeless in their own Heimat.

 

We have, vicious, demented, drugged out of their bodies and minds, homeless populations.  Riding the rails, living in the (dry most seasons) river, and just making themselves a pestilential menace on the sarcastically called "Left" coast. 

 

The responses to this have been nothing short of mind numbing in their idiot-brained-ness.  In particular their apologists on the left, and ready made "solutions" bros on the right, the "broligocene" beast-bros.

 

A chart from our wondrous "data guru" here:

 

 

                                 Rightly critical these are of us in our shambles.

 

Some magnificent Maha-Atmo-spherian once quipped Western Civilization would "be a good idea," if it were to arrive at long last.

 

Instead we've chosen the path of ... well,

 

A "culture of narcissism."

 

.... 

 

...