How do you hold yourself to identity? You are a descendent, for the most part, of migrants, at least distantly. You are the child of a one State, at least imaginatively. Less fertile soil, more collapsed environment, congretates in memories of blown sails, watered horses, days buried in your flesh of your genelines traversals. Closer, memories of economic distortions, wars, home in on you sublime as an animal companion, or worker clusters, in actions and sounds.
The migrant sparks the flame of these unrepresentations, maybe electric ersatz, in the image-native. Inherited pressures find the thought of nation, image. The failed, erased nation, image.
Oil is finished. Unlikely siblings of it's crude work, Algeria and Norway, know this. Nations have gained Holy significance, propellant vapourising the blood pools filled by religions, that peculiarly even the "highly educated" seek heroic status - the need for crisis to be quelled - in defence of this agency considered more valuable than comprehending the practical decisions and happy accidents of human behaviour that remain in language, living.
That monotheism pumps will to ignorance is an unaffordable taxation without representation, a "No" to Liberty. The God of unimagination is killing it's subjects, choking itself for kicks.
Saturday, 12 September 2015
Question Science, it produces politics
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