The Hunter’s Connection (Invoke Yourself: A Human Manifesto 2.1)

Let me ask you, what is the difference between humans and beasts?

What is that hidden obvious distinction between “people” and “robotic” beings?

It’s the aspect of the hunter, of a gatherer on a true hunt.

It’s the connections that they make, going through the world in which they act.

It is bold to say that some thing has a connection to another,

or that the reverse is true.

Perhaps you could say that they are “hunterconnected”,

that they are over and underconnected.

Take a look at arguments,

have a go at discipline.

Think about much heroism,

ponder on the villainous.

Overall, they are still hunters

that would bewilder any other animal

if only they could hear us.

There is always a friction, there is always a tension

there is always a relationship

between the act of regarding something

and the act of acting upon something.

To regard is actually an action

and to act has a lightweight detachment that is just like perception.

When a person is truly, never easily, hunting,

really going after something,

in a way that is filled with potential for chances to fail completely,

and manners in which you can succeed beyond all other prediction,

this reveals some structure of the universe, and how it’s always more than big or small.

It’s like the texture of the dimension of possibility.

It’s something that creatures driven mainly by instinct never see.

But perhaps they’ve got traces of it as they stare at humans with serenity.

Let me inquire, what is the instinct of people on their way to making civilization?

How did our species become so dominant, through other things besides the waving of tools?

What is storytelling culture and popular culture?

Why do us humans disagree so much with infinite things in common?

You can call it The Hunter’s Connection.

I read once in a small piece of an epic modern story,

that some people are all about THE MEANS, and making sure to do things the RIGHT WAY

while others are chiefly about THE RESULTS, taking pride mainly in

whether or not things DO GET accomplished.

This was for a certain contest involving gargantuan resources,

human effort, and potential for the gain of real power,

but this is a paradigm.

Here is what I think a culture is.

It’s the heat generated by the FRICTION between MEANS and RESULTS.

It is the understanding that SPACE and TIME do connect everything, and ALSO do not really LINK anything.

Culture is the rush that comes into place

when people are moved to making tough decisions,

and feel as that that MUST POUR OUT into others.

Culture is also how we spread our WHIMSY in times of relative peace,

in the hopes that neighbors imitate our lifestyle.

CULTURE is the friction between an EQUATION and the NUMBERS in them

Make the numbers change so fancifully,

and a plot on a map has three-dimensionality.

It turns into a creature all its own-

it becomes something with no real embodiment-

It becomes the ultimate hunter, it is outside of us.

Cultures aren’t proverbs.

Cultures are violent dances.

To go after something can always involve

doing something fundamentally unlike that which makes it.

To stray from something can certainly mean

becoming so intimately involved with it.

However, in a typical life, there are many things we do

which don’t come from a goal, and there are lots of responsibilities

we must stray from on a regular basis.

This makes us hot and bothered, it makes us cool and gentle.

With such temperature always altering, it etches into the universe as time moves along.

We all emit some thing very much like waves in so much other science.

What a culture war is really about

is trying to proclaim what the nature is of the relationship of intentions versus efficacy.

Never ever perfect, a “what to do guide”

turns into a plasma charged with motivation,

utterly discontented by a lack

of destruction and rebuilding.

Do you want to know what makes us smirk

when we are boasting about being rightness of something?

Something people are likely to disagree with,

something we know is contentious,

but feels like the right way to lean?

It is because progress that is VAGUE has a STRENGTH in a league of its own.

Movement toward an ideal

is so often strewn with its antithesis.

This may be why people embrace behaviors that we call hypocritical.

This is why people may act rather damned despicably

but get so much roaringly positive feedback.

It is the exception beyond exception,

an uptick in the desire for power, but regarded as precious and innocent.

it is because, as people strive for something they proclaim,

they feel as though they have taken what they scorn

and make it the skeleton of the flesh of their epic righteousness.

They give form to an infamous fury,

creating what’s known as culture.

Caught up in cultural frenzy, every point infinitely small,

the whole world entirely great,

every thing mattering most,

some vast expanses though, mattering meagerly,

situations become exceptions surpassing exception itself,

like infinite half steps to a line in the concrete

like an atom being split for some supposed good purpose.

When people defend the dignity of their broadly given culture,

their small chosen subculture, or their very own personal culture,

this is the passionate, pragmatic, resolute, burning will of a hunter

that’s being cast around them.

Ready to poke out pieces of their ideals for the purpose of making of them more sturdy

against the vile friction of those on a path which elicits terrible scorn,

the person wraps their culture in breathable armor, feeling

“I am righter than right, I am amazingly in touch with all a person should be”

And this is where conflict arises

as far from animal as it gets.

The hunter sees a connection.

The hunter sees a lack of it.

A chance to act, its purpose murky.

An opportunity to feel, its drama petty.

All the boldness you love, all the vigor you hate.

All the power you resent, all the weak that you should care for.

The truly evolved form

of the undulating connection of hunter and prey,

Like the mathematic streaking of galactic nighttime starlight.

This embodies itself so chiefly in the wars of cultural factions,

but it also enthralls us inside of stories where so much is ready to be sacrificed.

It is the volcanic interplay of hunters’ hunting of each other,

each with their own special strengths and unique sense of purpose,

desperately trying to save their day in a careful, savage fashion

while all sorts of conflicting calamities go out and take place

that seems to emit a flame like a gleaming trapped within the cosmos.

In no such other tale than a crisis of many genuine hunters

will you find the same kind of sorrow and joy.

When the hunt is cast all over,

some kind of burning breath takes over.

When it’s done correctly, such a multi-perspective epic

is much nicer than abiding by a tale of heroism versus nastiness.

I think, from that kind of long and gripping fiction,

we can learn how to be much kinder than we are,

because everyone learns to act with regrettable types of friction to move onward

and we all are bound to emit such very infamous waves with what we’ve done.

I use that kind of story to ponder how to be good to whom I want to.

Those ideas of making high arrangements and sacrifices

for the sake acquiring of some more useful abilities

do motivate my own shifts towards a functional decency.

All that one may really want

is for maturity

and mischief

to become better synchronized,

to serve those they truly admire.

And to nurture all of that greatness which isn’t understood by the masses

but makes up so much of what they have hence adored.

I want to see that reality

and this here is my means.

This is a mending of culture, big and small, shared and personal.

This is the correcting of the human hunter

that has yet to reach its goal of lacking awfulness.

And it is my hope toward the rise of a new kind of dignity,

at the very least for those who’ve come close to reaching it.

To change the game completely, please step up and join me.

Tell them this is how things are so the internet bears something very rich.

Tonic Gravity (Invoke Yourself: A Human Manifesto 1.2)

If I had to give another name to you, my blossoming locus

your name, your name would be called “Tonic Gravity”.

For in music, we are always playing within a key,

the note that is the fulcrum of your everything.

But as we play we stray, far from the sound that is the focus.

And even beyond the key’s few notes, we betray what is the locus.

Whether ourselves or our subject, things are wrapped around it.

And even so, we always are wavering beyond it.

In other people, we can see they have much dreams like ours.

And they’re part-loyal to ideals so close to being countered.

No matter who it is, we and they condense upon a center.

Oneself, another, an ideal, a goal, that sort of thing’s forever. 

But the atmosphere surrounding such is screaming with much color.

The force that pulls it’s musical, expressive in endeavor.

All connected, and all not, at once, something gets reigned inward.

Far from a straightforward push, no point of touching what’s intended.

The will, the hope, the energy, it goes right through its subject.

It never makes a landing, it’s not a kind of object.

People, people, people, they wish and claim, take action.

And how you feel about it has to do with FASHION.

The why, the what, the feel, the result, this always makes some tension.

The debilitating friction of decision and intention.

What would a discontented person say more, one folk to another, then,

“they KEY YOU’RE in is VILE, you’re NOT like what I wish”,

even as the tonic note is never to be hit.

One can feel the music of another human’s mind.

One is obsessed with odor of intention left behind.

We roar with righteous anger at what’s not all that unkind.

And regarding all that goodness that allows you all to grin,

wider and more temptingly than all you can admit,

that is when you think a person’s playing with their key,

ascending beyond badness of supposed hypocrisy.

Adapting and reacting, transcending what they are,

Playing the song of life itself, reaching near and far.

I certainly agree, this is what I’ve been admiring.

But some of how we do it is rather worth retiring.

This music sorely needs a massive interruption.

This world calls for EMPs to get more decorrupted.

I’ll send a janky signal in your stream of brutal goodness

and fulfill your sense of having some bold gumption tamed by softness.

I will make you more the person

you thought you’d always be.

By crushing you with knowing of tonic gravity.

You can do so much with a graceful kind of music.

The Blossoming Locus (Invoke Yourself: A Human Manifesto 1.1)

“The blossoming locus”

is the notion that

the world, life, and what makes us uniquely human

is that we feel and interact with

the primal understanding that

some things are completely and utterly independent of other things

while other matters are completely and absolutely intertwined.

And that, for any situation, or any evaluation

both of these factors come into play totally

coming into friction against each other

so that one point stretches out into the space of the universe,

infinitely emblematic, and endlessly irrelevant

both in a hundred million ways.

But, how often as to either, creates the shape of a wave

that touches everything and nothing

as you can clearly see

when specific situations

are regarded as massively representative of some attitude or tendency

despite the speaker feeling some falseness of this,

and others scenarios are said to be

utterly not indicative of some demeanor or behavior,

despite its sayer seeing much fault in that.

All points endlessly small, all parabolas perfectly huge

That is a marriage of math equations and pollinations.

This is the convergence of “programmed” versus “situations.”

This is the way things spread out, this is how people become who they are

This is plant life blooming unsure of how far it goes,

this is a vertex on an infinite grid gradually playing its roles.

This is a thing on which we should focus,

this I call a blossoming locus.

Examine this phrase

and you will find some catharsis.

This is a missing element

in our species’ progress.

As we beam outwardly

our sense of what can and cannot be changed

forms an arc that feels quite beautiful.

Feeling and acting are

not so separated,

that contentious burning star heat which we can exude.

People push like ocean waves,
they choose to bend in certain ways.

They take in boundless rays of light
and turn daydreams into might.

Like a flower spreads its seeds
with a chance to claim no deed

We reach into the form of space
Affecting all but lacking weight

Shining red and breathing gold
Weaving blue and violet folds

One is all, and all is none,

But in what fashion does the sun

Shoot its rays from here to there

How is it fair and yet unfair?

In such a world, what is the shape,

that all the yeses and nos make?

What is the will we shall enact?

The war between ideal and fact

Makes up the forces that we preach

That color how our kind do meet.

What they are likely bound to feel

Which things do they say should be real

When and how they’ve made appeals

With what passions do they clash,
what they see as kind or brash,
what scatters like a plot of ash,
and becomes the vicious, kind connection
befitting only to a being on the hunt.

Don’t let anyone tell you there isn’t a math to human behavior.
I plan on cutting down that lovely lyric.

Warriors of Wind (Invoke Yourself: A Human Manifesto 0.2)

People can build statues.

People tear down monuments.

People can plant trees.

People dismantle others’ plants and seeds.

People are all

warriors of wind.

Human will and much opinion goes into the building of a statue of a hero.

A monument for anything releases waves of people wishing for some goodness.

A tree that’s being built is given love for its potential and for what it represents.

A garden being shoved apart is done with the intention for some other kind of growth.

People are all just warriors of wind.

You, releasing sophisticated shockwaves on the internet.

I can assure you that I believe in your real depth.

My desire is to touch that inner wind

and make you feel the way it lifts you up to act

and temper those gales which just might cut your fellow human.

My intention is to hold that wistful breeze

and help you turn it into something for your sails.

People are all warriors of wind,

but I have an odd affinity for that very weather,

and I have been stifled and uplifted by the human atmosphere

perhaps more vividly than much of us.

But this is what I believe,

that an emotion exists which no person has yet to name,

but everyone has already felt.

I challenge you, warrior of the modern age,

to do something which shall indulge my high ambitions,

listen to what I have to say.

Statues are innocent in their posing stillness, and egregious in their emotional reach.

Trees are generous in what materials they release. They are humble in how they need so many nutrients.

Statues must be built by panting humans.

Humans survive from the breath of planted trees.

Let me tell you what I have shaped together.

I am creating a monumental piece of giant flora, and I hope to see its wind create the greatest of aromas.

I have sent a team of outrageously well-intentioned cyclones made up of my will.

I am going to change the weather of this world.

I am a true warrior of wind.

My Introduction (Invoke Yourself- A Human Manifesto 0.1)

Welcome, welcome, welcome to my thesis.

There are some things that I wish to tell you.

A missing emotion, it has been found.

Human love and fury will be snapped apart and rebuilt.

This page is far from ordinary capturing of human will.

Do not exit is my plea.

Please hear what I would say.

Above average poetry is hard to find,

This is a fulfillment of expression itself.

I have gleaned like none have done.

This may become bigger than anything you hear others preach.

I have worked on this for over ten years.

This thing is like astrology, distilled.

I rely on the feel of balance from planetary terms.

I have made a synthesis out of my experience.

This is my life’s analysis, and it is rather serious.

I disappointed someone when a long bit younger.

I walked within the woe of sudden evolution.

I made something like this long ago and posted it.

I waited until I found my way to a higher chance of success.

I found my kind of virtue.

I can tell you what is vexing about the ideal of human goodness.

The internet captures you with something like an impulse.

What I have discovered can explain to you that very craving.

I have found a way to cut through easily the online raving.

The internet is everywhere and it is also nowhere.

Human feeling and action have the feel of maximum ambiguity in scope.

Stillness and dancing are based upon the essence of each other.

Love and rejection, desire and detachment, things that are never utterly complete.

The will to be a dignified creature is wrapped inside the dreams of an uncanny axis.

Hypocrisy is an inadequate phrase.  Satire is an aging tactic.

Storytelling has reached its limit.   Human ambition is stuck with creepy gentleness.

There is much mediocrity to waiting to transform.

Everywhere I see things that are worth affection.

There is a canopy that screams, crack me open, fly above me.

Infinite is a thing a person cannot be but they can touch.

I made an acquaintance who took her own life because of the zeal of communality.

A class called Intercultural Communication completely changed my personality.

Collectivism and selfishness are like an unstable atom.

I have an explanation for what counts as bullying.

I will validate and diagnose “generalizations”.

Music videos taught me as much as any textbook.

I understand the unwickedly creative breath of hobbyists.

I give wry approval of people who lie on the extremes.

I am here to validate the dancing within kindness.

You who have a strong opinion, all can be metamorphosed.

You who cares for little has a goodness much unseen.

To make reality from dreams is the brutal thing all peoples tend to share.

Progress is never too kind to future heirs.

Tradition is never too loving to the past.

The mattering of the present has a flux that tends to last.

Ideals are enamored by the mildness of “should”.

Unified enforcement is enflamed by will of “would”.

Accusing the sensitive of shameful weakness is a habit that dares hindrance.

Accusing the strong of foolish bruteness, that crime awaits dissection.

The pleasures in enforcing myths are the same as the joys in satisfying games.

Creating fences and membranes around people using labels, a pastime worth surpassing.

Accusing a lack of resolution does stimulate the appetites of the fiercely balanced.

The internet reaches further than anything, and redefines our humble, home based living.

Whether any thing represents any other is the stylish gleam that defines the wars of culture.

To move forward with situations after they happen is called evil and good.

To make meaning out of the past is called hopeless or inspiring depending on how so.

Metaphors out of space and time make up the very grammar of emotion.

I have made a friend who lies right on the precipice of seeing who I am.

I have made another who can likely recognize when I am worthy of respect.

There is always a disconnect between who you are and who you want to be.

Redefining yourself and making others live through that is not inherently dignified.

Kindergarten is where many people lose track of their personalities.

The education system is the only cruelty I would readily forgive.

The sweet sorrow inside novels is a cliché that I can put upon display.

The beauty inside motion is greatly unappreciated but very oft consumed.

Reaching far beyond yourself is where our greatest differences have come from.

People call each other crazy but they wish they never had to do so.

People dream of closeness to each other, a thing which I want to grow.

However, most essentially, I developed and created this

Because I could find no thing in the media that exists

That could help me navigate this world like an adept.

I grew through and for the sake of all popular culture.

I would like to have my evolution play out upon all else.

That is a passion which we strangely have in common.

That is a soft nurturing which causes much resentment.

People want to be encapsulated dignity,

and if that is the goal, I seek only to enhance that.

People like me are want of a convenient name.

What should be my moniker?

To be endeared by others’ desire for change

without exactly commanding it,

To see an icon or a symbol alter its purpose

and smile with bemused modesty about it,

To strip away your previous restrictions on your ethics,

while fulfilling sincere moral-like intent,

To name yourself off something you decry

and also what you’ve dreamt,

To cut your way all through the world

while also giving balance,

To be duplicitous

but never with ill will,

To find that which is unjust

and go in for the kill,

To want to change the world

but also want a thrill,

To try and spin humanity

a push upon a mill,

Those are types of things a deeply good person is already claimed to do.

That type of thing

should warrant an improvement.

It’s got to start with someone doing something big about it.

I am here to invoke the type of niceness that people think they generously exude.

You can call me Commander L-1 Doubledge.

I seek to refract the beams inside of dreams.

My ambition’s higher than those who are now clamoring for power.

I intend on dwarfing all the political movements with my dream of kindness.

Lightning in The Time of Corona

Right now, there is a storm outside.

I had planned on comparing emotion to lightning before this ever happened.

I thought, it must be destiny, how encouraging.

But I am not a person recklessly inspired by coincidence.

I am, however, steadily motivated by it.

I have dug up something that may shock you.

You have entered my ring, and now I am going to pummel you.

Lightning links my wrists to my extending fists.

There may a few billion people walking outside now,

looking at what’s going on in the world,

seething with empathic anger, screaming for some good sense.

I offer you an explanation.

But I will put a needle in your shoulder.

And every time you feel catharsis against people who give you frustration,

you will feel my sting inhibit your internet expression.

And you will grow from this immensely.

This is my double edge.

Your will is thunder that echoes through the universe.

I am going to strike you with the force of validation.

And the lightning that we shoot out will gain a much more dignified shape.

Dip inside the rain for once.

It’s time to make a new humanity.

It’s time to give a name to an emotion.

The slightly over half full moon.
The prisoner pining over a puzzle for his entire life.
The awkward person finding an entirely new reason for anything.
The crack inside your lens.

The power to wash away a culture, but for the entire planet.

The internet made this possible.

I found a missing emotion.