More moments of meditation
If you ever look at a road map of Toronto, the City of Light, you will notice that the road infrastructure is some decades behind the demands placed upon it. Thanks to progressive politics, highways are not built, roads are not maintained, and getting from A to B is slow, frustrating, and dangerous. The children of Bolshevik privilege wanted their neighborhoods preserved, so now the City of Light has the stench of car exhaust and curses fill the air. Entire forests are clear cut to provide the paper related to insurance claims; truckloads of smashed auto glass and twisted metal wreckage finds its way to landfills; every day an overweight under worked municipal ‘worker’ dies with soft hands. Such incompetence and selfish greed could move the seeker of illumination to anger, outrage, or violence. But the revealed wisdom of the followers of Set, the Snake God are our immersible blender of contentment. Here before you is an open door. Those of you who wish to abandon their anger need only step through.
The portal to understanding is located on one of the quaint 1950’s era highways that acts as the main access to the Red Star (the progressive mouthpiece of the tax and spend gobblers of white guilt). If you stop your car in the right spot, at the right time, you can see things as they really should be, not from the confusing perspective of a car in motion. I did that only recently, and the best time is just before work starts. I stopped my car, put on the four ways, and just listened to the music. Tranquil music, that speaks the message of light, bright, and air tight.
Such a beautiful view, and so rarely enjoyed by the tax paying serfs who support the never workers. Behind me, there was honking and the signs of the anger endemic to a corrupt capitalist society. But I ignored them, it was easy. I was seeking greater wisdom: the nuanced view of Gaia’s green universe. I wondered when the last time someone just stopped his car at the entrance to the off ramp most convenient to the commuting Communists who wrote creative fiction for the betterment of themselves and their fairy dust world view. I wondered.
I was so peaceful, I lost track of time. If John Lennon had risen from the grave to pan handle, this is where he would stand with a bucket of urine to give window washes for crack money. I was in the enlightenment zone. I could see the waves of anger, frustration, and violence move away from me. And then there was a distant thud, the sound of metal upon metal. A horn blaring. Curses and shouts. It was time to go. Two cars, not sharing the road instead had attempted to share the same x,y,z co-ordinates. They had collided, completely blocking the off ramp, and the highway. Probably workers at the Red Star. Progressives should know better. They were the ones that stopped the traffic net with their Bolshevik world view. If only they had the peace and contentment of the body, the certain knowledge that comes from meditation. Instead, they were on the path of digestion (as taught by the followers of Set, the Snake God).
I moved on. I was filled with peace. The City of Light is filled with opportunities for meditation.
I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this. I care.