Look a friend in the eye and ask......

A hug for you all, dear readers, as we slip inexorably towards the unfortunate realisation that we are living in times that will become interesting to history students and make you and I say “I was there” when we have our grandchildren sitting at our knee.
Be there for that, my friends.

You will have noticed the speed at which these world altering events are unfolding with such orchestrated rapidity. The plan unfolds as does a flower, revealing petal upon petal, bursting into stamens of malignancy.

Example:
The murderers in Iraq have been dropping “illegal” bombs, “made to combine cluster and penetrator munitions”.
They killed 60 “civilian” human beings.
Ruined the lives of the those in the root systems of their existences, from mothers to casual friends, for the rest of their lives.

Anyway, there is no difference between a civilian human being and a military human being.
We all share one future.
We are one kind.
We live under the same roof.
If you cut us, do we not bleed?
We have all to stop hurting each other.

So we can make this place a nice place to be.

You military types and bomb builders and greedy careerists that provide the structural steel work for the pyramid of power, please look at those you love and ask yourself the questions “What future do I truly want for you” and “How do I make that place for you?”

“Your specie needs YOU!”, kinda thing.

As an aside. What, literally “in hell”, is a legal bomb?

And why are there such things in this place we call home?.

Some nice guy with a wife and kids goes to work every day and designs these things. A really clever guy.
For money.
Maybe he goes to church, is in the PTA, grows his own vegetables and is a lovely dad.

Many of the guards at the concentration camps had the same said about them.
“Nice guy, Hans.
Wouldn't hurt a fly.
Very tidy.”

How beauteous mankind is!
Oh brave new world, that has such creatures in't.

Other folks supply food to the military. Drive trucks for them. Build buildings.
People sell stuff other people buy, and other people make it and deliver it and buy a Coors on Saturday and watch TV.

The enforced movement of peoples into camps by totalitarians everywhere through time has involved the common participation of a nation in such movements.

Fear prevented many from standing against the evil, profit fuelled the rest.
From the train driver to the uniform maker, the button manufacturer and the nail maker to the maker of the hammer and so on and so on and so the guilt seeps into the blood of a nation, so the blood seeps, inexorably.

The tax payer is red with it.
The beguiled and the engineered witless are red with it (I.e. all of us).

All share in the guilt and therefore the blood and the shattered child.

This is why changing small things will never achieve anything.
Bloody revolution is not change, it's just more of the same, another helping of blood and anger.

The revolution of love and in love and with love and by love, that thing is change.
Change, maybe, we can believe in, hope for, create.

We have to start again at the very root and core of the thing, rip out every single wrong from our world, cure ourselves and our planet, do it in a way that shows what creatures we can be.
Full of love.

This will be a change of consciousness in and of itself.

The tentacles of guilt spread like the roots of a mushroom. And like those roots, we are in fact the plant,..... the mushrooms just the flowers, as our mushrooms are the flowers of our “civilisation”.
The ones that go BANG.

We allow this reality.
Humanity.
All of us.
We still continue to do so.
You're doing it now, and so am I.
Is it moving too fast for you to do one simple thing?
Like ask a friend?

Through fear and stupidity and petty meaningless greed and via the massive engines of deception we allow our masters to shower themselves with gold and blood as they goad or cajole or force or inspire our youth to cast their lives away on bloodied fields, or saturate their futures with the memory of terrible sin committed for a dollar and a uniform and the ability to swagger for a while. The cop and the soldier, props of the fear machine that bulldozes our humanity into the required shape.

As they trick the rest of us, into meaningless and miserable unnatural lives.

This false reality has to go, to the very roots of the thing in each of us.

Ask yourself “How do I help to create this?” and “What will happen if I don't?”

We all stop paying on loans.
We stop working if our job is unnecessary or sick or silly or pointless or evil.
We get together somehow somewhere in peace and love.
We collectively find what needs to be done by building some new way of ensuring everything grows from this love.

The future that grows from from such a seed and with such nurturing will be a marvel to behold.
It's there for the planting.

Look a friend in the eye and ask if they'll try.

Don't let them make rioters nor killers of you, though there will be many that rush through the doorway marked “Freedom!” to find instead slavery and they will try and pull you through.

We are of course already killers, but are scared to look that truth in the eye, for to look that truth in the eye would mean, if you count yourself human, you would have to act.

And we don't, enough of us, want to act.
Well, not until we become desperate.
And then of course we act in anger, and the war is already lost.

We will dance to the tune of the piper forever unless we do this thing right, my lovelies, we'll dance to his miserable dirge.

There are surely too many of us now for that?
How much more indignity will we suffer now the tipping point of the world's history marches inexorably closer, as their sick and morbid flower unfolds?

There was during WW 1 a recruitment poster with some death freak pointing at the mug punters and saying “This country needs YOU!”
Uncle Sam did the same
Well, “Your species needs YOU”.

And how will we be judged by a future that looks back on us if we do not wake up from this nightmare? If we are too cowardly, despite our vast number, to shrug this repellent parasite from our shoulders, what will their judgement be?
Do we leave this thing for others to clean up?

How will they judge every one of us now in possession of this earth who sleep on our watch and are complicit in a thousand tiny ways in the creation of this monstrous simulacrum of how we should be, how we will be.
This age old calumny we call reality is ours to change, ours to recreate, ours to work with and cleanse, ours to pass on in a better condition than we found it and have made it.

We have the gift of creating life.
We should develop the gift of making a beautiful future, and pass this gift to our children.
It truly is time to start again.
Look a friend in the eye, my friend, and ask them "Will you try?".

Love to all,
Olive Farmer xxx xxx xxx