Thoughts

It's not a person or some distant action but an idea. An amalgamation of some random piece of crystallized information highlighted by a random current of high grade cerebral electricity. Somehow this is what bubbles into consciousness amid the flood of the worlds current. Nothing more than energy nothing less than a dream.

The Crows and Me

Another older piece from 2011

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A crow named Kashikoi and his three crow friends stopped on a nearby branch to “caw” my attention. “What is it you want my black suited annoyance?” I unwittingly said. They “cawed” in unison once more and wisdom said:The Crows and Me
By: Josh Nieubuurt

"watching a bird in flight is worth more than gold. Walking within our domain you can free your soul. The earth’s humble soil is free but it can give you all you need. Away from the streets, cars, planes, lights and busy sounds we alone can offer you what must be found."

I thought for a moment, putting the notion of a talking crow aside and spoke:

"But how could this be? The world I know thrashes about conquering all. We mold the earth, build towers to pierce the sky. We capture imagination and ransom it’s genius by constructing our will! This is not your domain but ours."

Kashikoi shuffled it’s feathers -looked at me side to side- then spoke once more:

"All that you have is ours as well. It was ours before and it will be ours again. The air we breathe, the water we drink, the cold and heat we bear equally. You take from the ground and build into the sky…we simply fly.

Watching a bird in flight is worth more than inky black gold. Our songs are many and timeless. Yet we share them together both you and we. If you think you possess then you are a fool indeed. For life is an ocean of energy barely separating you and me. You should see nature is both you and me.”

At that he and his three comrades “cawed” one final time and took flight.

Whistles & Bells Inc.

whistles & Bells Inc.

A cyclical system, hell bent on confining the masses
Artfully using greed and self-satisfaction
Stealthed as weapons of abstraction
doing nothing more than distracting
the cattle to coddle all their eyes can fondle

Society is a slave
Slowly digging its own grave
to a of sounds, resounding whistles and bells
as we all take this stroll…

Using a plastic pasport to the dream of dreams
a white picket fence, double reverse fluctuated mortgage,
two jaw dropping candy painted cars in the drive,
all gained working a 9 to 5…

Society the simulacrum
slowly creates slavery
to a slew of sounds
resembling whistles and bells
as we all take this stroll…

A slave to a slave to a slave…
Oh tell me (please!) how much does a savory dollar pay…
is it worth life drifting away … It’s all credit anyways in these days…
No gold, silver or precious good in place (just in case!!)…
Slaves with no master, save themselves, to pay a debt with no price yet set..

Were all a slave
carving out our own grave
With all of the important “toys” we’ve saved
becoming ourselves those whistles and bells
as we all take this stroll down the wide lane
of capitalist hell.

"whistles & Bells Inc."
-Jneebs

Life in and Outside the Box: Fluffocrates the Great

An open letter to all of my kin:

“What does it mean to be somewhere? To be something?”

I wouldn’t expect their puny human minds to understand the complexity of the story I’m about to tell. I only ask you not to dare to try and question my supreme authority and honesty. I’ve gone from well kept prisoner, to a god, to a celebrated ruler of the greatest civilization on earth, to what I am now a … a humble philosocat.

              Let me digress and start from the beginning. I had once been in the care of a family by the name of Schrodinger. I was their prized possession; I was the queen of the house. One day young Erwin, being the mindless oaf that I saw him to be, placed me inside of a box. I tried to escape but not wanting to damage my freshly bathed fur I decided a nap was a better plan of action. Though I still consider his actions treason, in hindsight I should thank him. Maybe I’ll send some boxed flowers…

              When I awoke light had crept in through a hole in a box. I meowed hoping to be saved but to no avail. I clawed my way out of the box and was greeted by tens of thousands of human servants. Oh! How they cheered! I had returned to the throne I knew I was always meant for. They renamed me Ubasti and gave me command over their armies. I bathed in luxury, united the entirety of my new kingdom and was worshipped and adored by all. One night my human puppet ruler fell ill. His subjects snatched me from my golden throne, mind you this was midway through my afternoon bath , threw me in another box and sealed it tight. “How dare you! You know who I am! I’LL RULE OVER YOUR ENTIRE WRETCHED SPECIES WHEN I GET OUT!” With nothing more to say I finished my bath and took a disgruntled nap.

              I awoke to the sound of bongos and synchronized meows. The top of the box was lifted by many furry paws and fresh autumn air seeped into my lungs. “Welcome back to the world our highness!” I jumped from the box to see an entire court of impressive followers. There were Saber-toothed knights, Minx ninjas, sphinx monks and Scottish Fold jesters. “You’ve been napping for sometime our lord. We’ve done all the prophecy told us hoping for you to come back into the world. You are now the supreme ruler of earth!” They all meowed a heavenly hymn in my honor. I could have died in that moment and been happy… Though that would only leave me with 8 or so more lives (no need to speak of the one time as a kitten I chased my tail and fell from the second story into a trash bin).

              We had eradicated most of the human race leaving only a select few to do our bidding. These jobs mainly consisted of producing catnip, training our best athletes with laser pointers, living displays at our animal houses, and of course they retained their historical job of litter box cleaners. I was supreme ruler, as if that was even questionable, and many moons passed under my ever watchful eyes. The world was for once devoid of war, famine and fast food.

              One fine spring day my human athletic trainer, a brutish man by the family name of Caesar, tricked me into another box using his laser pointer. No doubt he stabbed me in the back, the great cat queen herself, to use as leverage to free some of their wretched kind. He locked me in and refused to listen to any of my god-like decrees. Now, if I had learned anything by this time it was that once you’re inside a box just about anything can happen. So I napped.

              Rain slowly dripped onto my nose as a doorbell rang. Gravity softened its grip as something picked up my box. The top opened and the face of a content looking man greeted me. He didn’t seem to mind being owned by a cat. Why would he, especially by one as great as myself. He changed my name once more to “Hugh;” I thought naming me, especially a lady cat, after himself was a rather pompous move to say the least. There I lived with the Everett’s until young Mark tried to stuff me into another box. I clawed my attacker and darted off into the night vowing to never be stuffed into one of those wretched things again. If I am ever captured and forced into one of those things again I leave this letter behind as a memoir so that my story may be told. Remember to always fear the box and Cat-speed to whoever finds this letter.

                            With lots of purrs,

                           Fluffocrates the Great

The Games We Played Played Us

A crackling fire. Once foreign constellations shining above. Faces of varying ages all peering at the wrinkled man standing in the fires light. One of the younger, still bright eyed ones, works up the courage to finally ask. "Tell us the scary story again Granｐa! Please, please pleaaase!"

"What is worse, Men or machines?

Early on it was the machines we demonized through our movies and stories. We shared a common assumption that one day the machines we made would undo all that we built. I talk to you as an old man now and that wasn't the case at all."

Simulate people. Play God. Have fun!

"It started out as an innocent game.  It gave us all a break from the reality we inhabited. I was 13, by the aging system of the day, the first time I played. Even at that tender age my heart knew I was wasting precious time. Time that could be better spent chasing girls, learning to play ball or pursuing knowledge of any kind. After a month I gave the game away and began to live life as I hadn't before. Come to think of it that was the month my lips tasted another's for the first time. Those shuddering, glossy lips altered the course of my life; maybe that's why I'm different. Maybe that's why we're here."

The wrinkles on his brow deepened and silence reigned.

"The first generation was played on early computers." The little one mimicked this foreign word, "Kompootah." "The second generation was released around my twentieth birthday. The days of the computer had given way to super cellular phones, holographic tablets, and virtual reality sets. All over that blue globe..." His aged hand pointed to indistinct point in the stars "Helmets were being worn to escape into wild dreams, designed by the brightest minds of our time."

Join Us. Live the Life. Live the Dream!

"It had evolved from a single player game to a worldwide massive multi-player dream world. Concerts were held with tens of millions in attendance, professional sports were viewed from the players’ point of view, and virtual vacations to sandy shores or ancient cities became all the rage. We wanted more... we wanted more of the pie. Seeing and hearing weren't enough, we wanted to live it... we wanted more..."

His voice trailed off but his eyes grew wider. Behind their yellowish exterior life on a distant place flowed out of them. They conjured themselves into a ball and rolled down his cheek, the wrinkles acting like ditches watering parched crops.

"Grand Pa..." The little one began speaking once again, "Why do you talk so funny?" Her mother puts a hand over her mouth. He cleared his throat to start again.

"The system developers became rock stars in the eyes of the globalized populace. Whatever they dreamed up became the must have experience for young and old alike. The porn industry..." "What's porn?" Another little one asked. The old man continued, his mind still diving ever-deeper into the ocean of his experience. "Hastened the development of all the technologies, pushing them almost into the world of reality. Governments, always slow to adapt, joined the party later. Warfare became completely digitized. Clunky robots fought fleshy foes in third world countries, while their controllers sat in plush chairs a world away.

“The world was no longer a silicon empire but an invisible quantum network enveloped the globe. People outside their own homes became a rare sight. The atrocities committed by those in power were broadcast by elite hackers. The world didn't care. They were too caught up in their own narcissistic elixir to care.

By the time my thirtieth birthday came around the world had changed forever. There was no going back to the old ways. The developers had found a way to entangle the synapses of man to the processors of machines. Immortality, they said, was just around the bend."

We can all live forever, we can all learn everything. Welcome to the future!

"It wasn't all smooth sailing. The first test subjects all lost their minds during or shortly after the transfer. The machines just couldn't handle the massive load of the human brain. One scientists', previously heralded as the Einstein of the developers, moon walked across the entire state of Nevada after his machine lost his mind." "Grandpa... what's a Einstein?"

"Almost everyone at this point had a job within the developers’ world. Money would be transferred digitally, cash was absolved completely. People would occasionally log out to walk their dog, if they had a real one, or attend a funeral. People like me, the reality trekkers, were outcasts. The developers found jobs for us though as well. We would fix machines, cables, and coded while the rest of the world grew lazy, bulbous, and immobile.”

“The ultra rich lived with a foot in both worlds. Day-by-day they too would become more machine than man. But underneath the steely metal their human impulses still raged on.”

“On my fortieth birthday I lost my freedom. They had already figured out how to extend life indefinitely. They also extended their subjects perception of time as well. Years inside the game were mere hours outside. Those of us left outside the game were considered threats to the established order.”

“The developers became modern pharaohs, living, metal clad immortals among mere digitized mortals. They had become all powerful; they knew everything there was to know. They had access to anything, anytime, anywhere. The world they had created became all too convincing simulacrum. People no longer wished to live without it. True reality was but a nightmare.”

“There was no cake for me on that day. No candles or ice cream. They tracked me down and loaded me into a skytrain.  Silky gas filled our lungs and the deep sleep began.”

“Later, after the awakening, we realized for decades we had been sleeping. Their technology had perfected the art of sleep. Our fleshy bodies were frozen and stored with the hundreds of other reality trekkers and sent here. Prison colony GJ1214b. This is where my life began anew. Trapped in a domed prison of the stars for the rest of time."

Silence filled the camp. The blue lights on the back of their heads began to glow as the fire dwindleｄ onward into the nothingness. It was time to sleep. The developer guards would be by soon.