In little India, they still have booboisies, and we shan’t belittle them for like golems they were classified as such, like most from the petri. One doesn’t maim a nanobot just because one is dispensable, like eau de toilette.
Elsewhere, in Asia, the young ones are choreographed like tin soldiers to the glitterati of the urbanised campestral, severing their roots from the past. Can you already read the patterns connecting the dots in a political activity tabloid? Many sophisticated stratums are designed as such in the mundane. Pleasures appease and ofttimes stir the minds towards some innovative genre.
If you try to put social and cultural development ahead of economic development, it doesn’t work. You have to do it all together — Aga Khan IV
A metropolis ought be at least a financial centre. Administrative centres ought be departmentalised in sections within the district. Residential districts ought be compartmentalised elsewhere in the suburbs with excellent highway systems with more than enough byways for future district expansion. The exurbias ought be regulated, for agriculture, and hi-tech developments. Everything else ought be outsourced in first or tenth world nations where unemployment or trafficking are disturbingly escalating.
As the Earth collapse in prostration with the sweltering heat it extravasates, more cooling innovations need to be seriously implemented. After-all humanity is birthed therein, and it’s death is it’s holocaust. How wonderful. One doesn’t have to be a bullet train engineer to figure how a greenhouse works.
True currency comes from trust, whilst trust from humility. Humility comes from compassion, and the latter from Love.
Malaysia gloats on it’s heritage with Visit Malaysia tourism campaigns but when asked what archeological remains it can showcase, the storytelling bit where things get all intriguing and seductive, you’re told that those aren’t yet built, have been torn down to pave for capricious morrows, or shown a petri of dirt. You can live in Malaysia if you’re from the future but best do in the rain forests. These urbanites seem to have some fats missing between their ears. The recent fourteenth July marked my twenty six years of temporary exile from Paris. Whilst the old world has drastically changed thanks to some detrimental and dysfunctional migrants, and this other side vexing me to bits, I have resorted to researching other acreage elsewhere.
Elsewhere is always a good idea.
Of course I’m being satirical darlings … a country void of a wealthy past is a country like the Americas, sans Brasil bien sûr. They even have the same bloody flag but with the Moon … It was an afterthought — Sumatra wasn’t good nor large enough for them.
Heritage homes and buildings ought be maintained and conserved as history keepsakes, whilst annexes used by recognised nonprofit organisations irrespective what slants they facilitate or serve. Prime acreage ought be reserved for hospitality industries, and designated plots for the elite. Yes, the presence of the elite adds value to the ad valorem tax of the commodity. Not to mention the attractor-factor amongst those who luxuriate in old money and bullion. Servants are messy, and no tomes philosophising extrinsic humility attracts investments except perhaps for franchise brick mortar startups or businesses to gain leverage in its positioning.
I like the theorem that people can change. Now let me see … for the past what two thousand years, let’s not go all frenzied with radiocarbon dating down to forty (thousand i.e) and get into the evolutionary journey of the monad shall we …? How have they really changed? The new mould has yet to be conceived although the template has been written. The arcana is still intact unless blown to bits in a random locality and elsewhere less flattened.
In spite of the reactionary from the effect, the new world still calls forth the birth of polarities in its manifestation. It is imagery afterall. As much as Israel is doing her linens in public, the walls are confining the radiation, rationing less freedom and increasing turmoil. We know what dissonance result into don’t We? The little I glance through, apart from certain orphic delights in the mundane is that many are still groping in the duskiness of their grandeur clumsily trotting their vessels directionless like balsa spinning-tops sans imagination, sans cause, all the while pretending being alive, intelligent and hardy-hahaa keeping up with aristocracy or the least, even in their humble parlour eating curds and whey.
Constantly rushing somewhere doing nothing for the sake of the drama in their lives. No darlings, tarts and scones are for the petty bourgeoisie.
And the storms are increasingly aware for those who indirectly plot at tipping the scales. Being in the moment is about awareness of even the most insignificant layer of the intangible … like the consistency of salt in ink. Surely perspectives can teach them something about the future and the pasts, but I shan’t repeat this like a broken Boney M vinyl. The whole bloody affair has been subverted by a hoard of humanoids, it has become a tad democratic, and common. Like these clamouring for freedom, out of the chaos they themselves have instigated instead of harmonising the flux. It’s no longer my jurisdiction to advise them.
They have after-all self proclaimed themselves human. How royal.
Darlings, dreaming is a full time career, in the virtual worlds (I’m not referring to Second Life) and reading, a multimillion dollar lucre. The moment is in that moment. It is not spliced into notches as the in-time. Had they truly known they wouldn’t have chopped poor Naja Haje and sold ointments out of these guardians of the veils, but obviously someone counter moved the operandi. One who thought it had a better idea.
Twit! insobrieties have nothing to do with intoxicants, yet all to do with living.
So they’ve not changed that much have they … satire was designed for percolation but no, of course not these trendy vessels are clueless of even the slightest gestures of civilisation. The emptiness of the grail were designed for the next wave, the transition, the morrow but polishing windows in the hope that it’ll one day serve as mirrors is otiose for whatever reasonings madness have prepared them about why they have to parse through such medium, they’d rather be incinerated first not knowing the person does not leave the form until after the form has turned to ashes.
She saw too that man has the power of exceeding himself, of becoming himself more entirely and profoundly than he is, truths which have only recently begun to be seen in Europe and seem even now too great for its common intelligence — Sri Aurobindo
“Life”, Feature Image Courtesy and Copyright Gwenael Piaser
“Skyline Sunrise”, Courtesy and Copyright Philip Peynerdjiev
Suggested Intoxicants …
- Kinshasa: Récits de la Ville Invisible par Filip De Boeck
- Global Citizenship and the Legacy of Empire: Marketing Development by April Biccum
- Beat Culture: Lifestyles, Icons, and Impact by William Lawlor
- Climate Change, Human Security and Violent Conflict: Challenges for Societal Stability by Jürgen Scheffran, Michael Brzoska, Hans Günter AFES-PRESS, Peter Michael Link, and Janpeter Schilling
- Managing the Fiscal Metropolis: The Financial Policies, Practices, and Health of Suburban Municipalities by Rebecca M. Hendrick
- The New Century of the Metropolis: Urban Enclaves and Orientalism by Tom Angotti
People are predictable. Planting a seed is essential. The future is about seeds.