Posts Tagged ‘Apocalypse’

Timothy Glenn ~ Global Metamorphosis 2018 Update

This is hands down one of my all time favorite articles from my friend, Timothy Glenn. I’m not into mandatory anything, but if I were, I would propose this article as mandatory reading.

You can find the original “Global Metamorphosis” article from 2008 for review by clicking here. I posted it in 2013, as Tim went through some old writings and found it eerily applicable to April 2013. I remember reading the first article he sent out in 2008, though, because in my own life, Pluto in Capricorn has been nothing short of a death and rebirth of, ohhhh, everything. Today’s post gives us a status report as Pluto continues to make its way through this sign. Ponder for a moment how much the world has shifted in the past decade — both personally and collectively. Kind of unbelievable, huh? Love ’em or hate ’em, Pluto and Saturn know how to evoke the changes.

Global Metamorphosis 2018 Update

Pluto two thirds of the way through Capricorn

by Timothy Glenn

From the original Global Metamorphosis article in 2008:

“As Pluto, the ruler of the underworld, grinds its way through Capricorn, it will tend to bring that which is hidden out into the public eye. Do you suppose we will see ‘leaks’ of information the Powers That Would Be would rather keep secret? Count on it. Watch for it. Get ready to do something about it.”

Each 30 degree sign of the zodiac is divided into 3 decans or decanates. Here in 2018, Continue reading

Showing their Cards

Well, here we are in the time of great revelations, where deceptions have become so obvious that no more excuses exist for ignorance. In this day and age, ignorance should really be respelled as “ignore-ance.” Here are a few of my favorite denial busters this week:

1) “End the Fed” rallies explode throughout Germany. German media calls all participants “Nazi’s.” As Michael Krieger rhetorically asks, “Do these folks seem like Nazi’s to you?” I find such duplicity extra rich given the simultaneous fact that the US (and much of Europe) is actually arming and supporting real neoNazi’s in the Ukraine right now, yet presenting them as “democratic revolutionaries” … not unlike how the US conveniently arms Al Qaeda (Al CIA-da) whenever we want to install a puppet regime. Anyway, I found the two interviews in the following video heartening, informative, and highly interesting. Although Americans of all people should be having “End the Fed” rallies, it’s at least nice to know that a population somewhere is:

2) John Oliver reveals himself as a complete shill for BigPharma. In a typically hilarious rant, comedian John Oliver roasts the natural-remedy-advocating Dr. Oz. I admit to giggling while steam puffed out of my ears and nostrils, but this latest serves as an excellent example of how the pseudo news shows like Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert and now, John Oliver, are far, far, far from bringing “truth” through comedy. Yes, they often point out flagrant government and mainstream media propaganda (oops! redundant); however, they never stray too far from their BigPharma “2-party political system” feeding trough.

The following video makes this pattern abundantly clear to anyone aware of the FDA mafia, which approves dangerous drugs all the time — as policy — even while knowing of and purposely ignoring the dangers posed. John Oliver’s comments about the 37 deaths from tainted tryptophan in 1989 seem outrageous because he fails to mention the 106,000 deaths per year from FDA-approved BigPharma drugs. Laugh and cry at the same time … these comedians have more influence on public opinion now than mainstream news anchors, and viewers mistakenly believe they’re getting “truth” because it’s funny. Yes, they play the role of “Fool” with a capital F, but that’s because they’re fooling the public in ever capital ways.

The only place I’ve been able to keep the sound going for the video is on this Huff Post article. The youtube version has the latter part auto-muted out:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/06/23/john-oliver-dr-oz-dietary-supplements_n_5521413.html

3) Government Advertised In JANUARY For “Escorts” For 65,000 Illegal Alien Children To Be “Resettled” You can click here to see the relevant advertisement and wording, but I will quote some of that blogger’s commentary here:

This advertisement raises a lot of questions. There is a lot of specificity reflected in this document that seeks to deal with an influx that hadn’t as yet happened. How could they know 65,000, even breaking down the percentages that would be covered by ground, charter and air transportation?

Having received a lot of flack for the influx of illegals, there are some in the Obama regime who are now trying to suggest, oh, of course, the children will be deported after the initial emergency crush is addressed. But if that is so, why the reference to “Office of Refugee Resettlement

What is the mission of the Office of Refugee Resettlement?

“The Office of Refugee Resettlement (ORR) provides new populations with opportunities to maximize their potential in the United States, linking people in need to critical resources to assist them in becoming integrated members of American society.”

The purpose is not to take care of them and then ship them out, the purpose of the ORR is, in their own words, to resettle them and integrate them into the United States. The language is already defining them as “refugees” making it clear the administration’s desire to have them stay, before they even arrive, before any individual case for asylum is even considered.

The very language confirms the Obama regime 1) knew with specificity a huge influx was on the way and 2) they intended them to stay.

Laura again: these represent only three of the most obvious examples of deception — examples so obvious that they recall W’s ridiculous “Fool Me Once” gaffe, which I see has been muted out all over YouTube. Consider that little factoid card number four: the videos remain … and most of the world remembers that indelible moment of delicious irony … yet the “powers” that “be” have muted it out for posterity. Move along, nothing to hear here.

I don’t have words. 😉

Timothy Glenn ~ 2014: A Call to Revelation

Yay! A New Year’s gift from my friend, Tim. I love how he and I both independently arrived at the 8 of Wands card as related to 2014. Tim offers a numerological explanation for why that Robin Wood image continues to haunt me. The Chariot card and 8 of Wands also came up in the traditional New Year’s Eve trade that Tania Marie and I pull for each other every year, and James Gilliland’s 2014 forecast alludes to “incoming objects from space.” The upcoming Chinese New Year designates 2014 as the Year of the Horse, which further underscores the Chariot card energy.

In other words, this one resonates, although I would still remind everyone to let your love flow to this beautiful planet, too, including tangible, loving actions to support and nurture her. True love requires no real (or unreal) reasons for loving action; such gestures just naturally spill forth from heartfelt love. 🙂

Anyway, here’s Tim:

2014: A Call To Revelation
by Timothy Glenn

The stilted, unnatural Gregorian calendar has flipped itself into a new year. The Sun is not impressed. The planets are not impressed. Not even the Moon is impressed. On the other hand, hominid creatures clambering around on Planet Earth put a lot of stock in this calendar system, so its numerological influences will affect this entire biosphere in which we live.

Uranus Square Pluto Unleashed

From June 2012 to March 2015, Uranus will exactly square Pluto seven times. At least, that is what it looks like from Planet Earth.From the perspective of the Sun, this phenomenon occurs only one time, and that one time fell on November 23, 2013. As of that date, all bets are off. Even though the world-changing effects of this transit will continue to unfold throughout the solar system, the influence has been unleashed and the unimpeded impacts can now be experienced on every planet, moon, asteroid and comet.

Pluto and Uranus exert a compelling causal factor in and ofthemselves. But The Big Guy, Uncle Jupiter Himself, is adding an extra wallop. As Uranus and Pluto moved into their Heliocentric square at 11 degrees of Aries and Capricorn, Uncle Jupiter in Cancer exactly opposed Pluto in Capricorn and then promptly squared Uranus in Aries, triggering the potential of the other two planets in their long term transmutational project. The oomph of the Heliocentric square was further amplified because Jupiter had not advanced beyond 11 degrees on November 23, giving us a major aspect known as a T-square an activator extraordinaire.

All Squared Away

Now we have been prepared for astrological fallout like we have not seen in many lifetimes. Are you looking for a quiet, pastoral 2014? Try another solar system.

Monumental events could burst into our lives at any moment. So much is happening and pending that volumes could be written on the subject. In fact, voluminous writings are spread all over the internet. Feel free to take a look, but you might be wise to install your filters and sharpen your sense of resonance, because disinformation and misguided speculation abound.

A noteworthy trigger point will occur on April 21 at the next exact Geocentric square of Uranus and Pluto. This fifth exact square looms larger than life because Jupiter will once again form a T-square with the other two planets, this time from a Geocentric perspective. And instead of triggering them a few days before the exact event, Jupiter will set them off a matter of hours before they go exact.

As a launching pad for this blast of transformational energy, the Tsquare will occur within an orb of four minutes of arc. The tighter the orb, the more powerful the aspect, and four minutes definitely qualifies as tight. This T-square will be far from floppy.

With revolutionary Uranus being exactly activated by Jupiter and Pluto on the same day, duplicating the Heliocentric pattern established last November, we can expect action. We can choose to sit back and let all the action be taken by wannabe planetary controllers and other pretenders, or we can opt for pro-active involvement in co-creating the New Earth.

The Pervert-a-Word of the Month Award

2014 promises to become an Apocalyptic year. But here we encounter another word game engineered to trip up the Earthlings. In this game, the object is to convince people that the word Apocalypse denotes catastrophe.

From the ancient Greek, the term Calypso denotes hiding, veiling, concealing. An Apocalypse simply means an unveiling. But then, when the unveiling happens within our own Shadow, most Earthlings tend to regard the experience as catastrophic.

Carl Gustav Jung said: “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” However, the unveilings due to happen in the external world just might upset the status quo. Proterrian observes: “An apocalypse is only a disaster to those who do not want the truth to be known.”

One of the professional hats worn by Uranus is that of Revelator. Especially with Jupiter involved, the evolutionary Pluto plus the revolutionary Uranus will equal Revelation. Whether any particular unveiling engenders calamity for you is your choice, but only sleeping sheeple would expect the world to look the same by the end of 2014.

Signs in the Sky

Basic numerology places us in a 7 year, a cycle of harvest. Many consider this to be a period of karmic resolution; a season of reaping what has been sown. To some degree, this may be so. However, more of us are awakening to the opportunity to step out of karma and into Grace. We have seen through the illusions of the old world’s distorted so-called “law” of karma that had been imposed on this planet for millennia on end.

The time has come for us to move on, and seventh card of the Tarot deck presents an image of moving on: the Chariot. An effective rendering of the Chariot card can be found in the Robin Wood Tarot. If you look at the starry canopy behind the charioteer, and soften your gaze, you will most likely be able to see the canopy as a portal.Assuming the role of the charioteer, you can become a living portal for the magic that can come into this world from the Starry Realms.

We have nothing to fight, nothing to win, nothing to accomplish; only illusions to transcend; only love to integrate. Anything that fails to resonate with your feeling of Heaven on Earth can simply dissolve. With support from the Uranus/Pluto square and its urge for self-determination,
moving beyond the illusions of the Matrix will grow easier with every step.

2014 = 20 + 14 = 34

On another level, we have entered a 34 cycle. Card 34 is the 8 of Wands, where we see aligned energies coming from above, moving down to the Earth. The Robin Wood deck shows the wands descending not merely from the sky, but from interplanetary space. In fact, Uncle Jupiter is plainly depicted.

In 2014 it would be wise to remain open to a broad spectrum of possibilities as to what might emerge from our skies, in addition to what will emerge from within ourselves. The space winds of change are billowing.

When the number 34 comes up during a reading, I like to present the 8 of Wands first from the Robin Wood Tarot, and then from the Universal Waite. This emphasizes that indeed the incoming energies are approaching Earth from “way out there”, but that these energies are being brought all the way down to the green fields of Earth. They are to be grounded and utilized.

In zodiacal numerology, 34 expresses the essence of Capricorn; not the most airy-fairy sign. Capricorn insists that everything we bring in must be given practical application. Metaphysical foo-foo will not work here.

May You Live in Interesting Times

The words of the subheading have been labeled “an ancient Chinese curse”. Perhaps the Apocalypse will show us how to morph curses into blessings, and fear into love. Perspective, interpretation and response are choices we make. If we can but choose to love ourselves enough, the Revelations of 2014 will open us to a genuinely new reality.

Rose colored glasses are not recommended. May you live in interesting times, 2014 for instance, but may you love yourself enough to keep the Sword of Discernment sharp and ready. Let the adventure begin.

Timothy Glenn
http://soulpurposereadings.com/

Robert Jensen: Apocalyptic thinking generates hope by embracing both grief and joy

Thanks to Ann at Exopermaculture for finding this gem! It also reminds me of one of my favorite books by Joanna Macy and Chris Johnstone, “Active Hope: How to Face the Mess We’re in without Going Crazy.” This attitude of fearlessly facing the various crises we’re in without having an attachment to the results of our actions requires both discipline and compassion. I also love all the beautiful poetry and the focus on grounding.

Initial comments by Ann Kreilkamp:

Rarely do I read something I wish I had been the one to write, not only because it meets so exactly with how I feel, but the way the author lives his life in response to his understanding of our human predicament so precisely parallels my own.

This essay reminds me of the time when I, as what I now label a “violent peace activist,” back in the early ’80s, heard this remark from a grizzled old rancher who lived close to a nuclear test range in Utah: “If we are to blow ourselves up, then at least I will die knowing I have done what I could to prevent it.” I was stunned by his paradoxical attitude: not depressingly cynical, and not foolishly idealistic, but realistic and, above all, ethical. In other words, live as if I don’t know what will happen next, and it doesn’t matter. My actions do not guarantee results. No expectations!

Cecil’s one remark recalibrated the focus for my own life.

Much the same sentiment is offered here, in Robert Jensen’s realistic analysis of our current situation on this planet, and how this overwhelming crisis/opportunity defines who we are and who we can be, once we surrender to its entirety.

We Have to Embrace Apocalypse If We’re Going to Get Serious About Sticking Around on This Planet

To think apocalyptically is not to give up on ourselves, but only to give up on the arrogant stories we modern humans have been telling about ourselves.

July 9, 2013

by Robert Jensen

alternet.org|

Robert Jensen

The following is an excerpt from We Are All Apocalyptic Now: On the Responsibilities of Teaching, Preaching, Reporting, Writing, and Speaking Out , in print at Amazon.com and on Kindle (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, 2013):

Here’s my experience in speaking apocalyptically about the serious challenges humans face: No matter how carefully I craft a statement of concern about the future of humans, no matter how often I deny a claim to special gifts of prognostication, no matter now clearly I reject supernatural explanations or solutions, I can be certain that a significant component of any audience will refuse to take me seriously. Some of those people will make a joke about “Mr. Doom and Gloom.” Others will suggest that such talk is no different than conspiracy theorists’ ramblings about how international bankers, secret cells of communists, or crypto-fascists are using the United Nations to create a one-world government. Even the most measured and careful talk of the coming dramatic change in the place of humans on Earth leads to accusations that one is unnecessarily alarmist, probably paranoid, certainly irrelevant to serious discussion about social and ecological issues. In the United States, talk of the future is expected to be upbeat, predicting expansion and progress, or at least maintenance of our “way of life.”

Apocalyptic thinking allows us to let go of those fanciful visions of the future. As singer/songwriter John Gorka puts it: “The old future’s gone/We can’t get to there from here.” The comfortable futures that we are comfortable imagining are no longer available to us because of the reckless way we’ve been rolling the dice; there is nothing to save us from ourselves. Our task is to deal with our future without delusions of deliverance, either divine or technological. This planet is not a way station in a journey to some better place; it is our home, the only home we will know. We will make our peace with ourselves, each other, and the larger living world here.

The first step in thinking sensibly about the future, of course, is reviewing the past. The uncertainty of our future will be easier to accept and the strength to persevere will be easier to summon if we recognize:

— We are animals. For all our considerable rational capacities, we are driven by non-rational forces that cannot be fully understood or completely controlled. Even the most careful scientist is largely an emotional creature, just like everyone else.

— We are band/tribal animals. Whatever kind of political unit we live in today, our evolutionary history is in small groups; that’s how we are designed to live.

— We are band/tribal animals living in a global world. The consequences of the past 10,000 years of human history have left us dealing with human problems on a global scale, and with 7 billion people on the planet, there’s no point in fantasizing about a retreat to Eden.

With that history in mind, we should go easy on ourselves. As Wes Jackson said, we are a species out of context, facing the unique task of being the first animals who will have to self-consciously impose limits on ourselves if we are to survive, reckoning not just with what we do in our specific place on the planet but with what other people are doing around the world. This is no small task, and we are bound to fail often. We may never stop failing, and that is possibly the most daunting challenge we must face: Can we persevere in the quest for justice and sustainability even if we had good reasons to believe that both projects ultimately will fail? Can we live with that possibility? Can we ponder that and yet still commit ourselves to loving action toward others and the non-human world?

Said differently: What if our species is an evolutionary dead end? What if those adaptations that produced our incredible evolutionary success — our ability to understand certain aspects of how the world works and manipulate that world to our short-term advantage — are the very qualities that guarantee our human systems will degrade the life-sustaining systems of the world? What if that which has allowed us to dominate will be that which destroys us? What if humanity’s story is a dramatic tragedy in the classical sense, a tale in which the seeds of the hero’s destruction are to be found within, and history is the unfolding of the inevitable fall?

We love stories of individual heroes, and collectively we tend to think of ourselves as the heroic species. The question we might ask, uncomfortably, about those tales of heroism: Is Homo sapiens an epic hero or a tragic one? Literature scholars argue over the specific definitions of the terms “epic” and “tragedy,” but in common usage an epic celebrates the deeds of a hero who is favored by, and perhaps descended from, the gods. These heroes overcome adversity to do great things in the service of great causes. Epic heroes win.

A tragic hero loses, but typically not because of an external force. The essence of tragedy is what Aristotle called “hamartia,” an error in judgment made because of some character flaw, such as hubris. That excessive pride of protagonists becomes their downfall. Although some traditions talk about the sin of pride, most of us understand that taking some pride in ourselves is psychologically healthy. The problem is excessive pride, when we elevate ourselves and lose a sense of the equal value of others. When we fall into hubris individually, the consequences can be disastrous for us and those around us. When we fall into that hubris as a species — when we ignore the consequences of the exploitation on which our “lifestyle” is based — the consequences are more dramatic.

What if our task is to give up the dream of the human species as special? And what if the global forces set in motion during the high-energy/high-technology era are beyond the point of no return? Surrounded by the big majestic buildings and tiny sophisticated electronic gadgets created through human cleverness, it’s easy for us to believe we are smart enough to run a complex world. But cleverness is not wisdom, and the ability to create does not guarantee we can control the destruction we have unleashed. It may be that there is no way to rewrite this larger epic, that too much of the tragedy has already been played out.

But here’s the good news: While tragic heroes meet an unhappy fate, a community can learn from the protagonist’s fall. Even tragic heroes can, at the end, celebrate the dignity of the human spirit in their failure. That may be our task, to recognize that we can’t reverse course in time to prevent our ultimate failure, but that in the time remaining we can recognize our hamartia, name our hubris, and do what we can to undo the damage.

That may be the one chance for us to be truly heroic, by learning to leave center stage gracefully, to stop trying to run the world and to accept a place in the world. We have to take our lives seriously but take Life more seriously.

We certainly live in a dangerous time, if we take seriously the data that our vast intellectual enterprises have produced. Ironically, the majority of intellectuals who are part of those enterprises prefer to ignore the implications of that data. The reasons for that will of course vary, and there is no reason to pretend these issues are simple or that we can line up intellectuals in simple categories of good/bad, brave/cowardly, honest/dishonest. Reasonable people can agree on the data and disagree on interpretation and analysis. Again, my argument is not that anyone who does not share my interpretation and analysis is obviously wrong or corrupt; many of the assertions I have made require more lengthy argument than available in this space.

But I hold to one point without equivocation: When the privileged intellectuals subsidized by the institutions of the dominant culture look away from the difficult issues that we face today, they are failing to meet their moral obligations. The more privileged the intellectual, the greater the responsibility to use our resources, status, and autonomy to face these issues. There is a lot riding on whether we have the courage and the strength to accept that danger, joyfully. This harsh assessment, and the grief that must accompany it, is not a rejection of joy. The two, grief and joy, are not mutually exclusive but, in fact, rely on each other, and define the human condition. As Wendell Berry puts it, we live on “the human estate of grief and joy.”

This inevitably leads to the question: where can we find hope? My short answer: Don’t ask someone else where to find it. Create it through your actions. Hope is not something we find, but is something we earn. No one has the right to be hopeful until they expend energy to make hope possible. Gorka’s song expresses this: “The old future’s dead and gone/Never to return/There’s a new way through the hills ahead/This one we’ll have to earn/This one we’ll have to earn.”

Berry speaks repeatedly of the importance of daily practice, of building a better world in a practical ways that nurture real bonds in real communities that know their place in the world. He applies this same idea to a discussion of hope:

[Y]ou’re not under any obligation to construct a hope for the whole human race. What you are required to do is to be intelligent. And that means you’ve got to have an array of examples you want more or less to understand. Some are not perfect, and others are awful, and to be intelligent you’ve got to know why some are better than the others.

If people demand that intellectuals provide hope — or, worse, if intellectuals believe it is their job to give people hope — then offering platitudes about hope is just another way of avoiding the difficult questions. Clamoring for hope can be a dangerous diversion. But if the discussion of hope leads to action, even in the face of situations that may be hopeless, then we can hold onto what Albert Camus called a “stubborn hope”:

Tomorrow the world may burst into fragments. In that threat hanging over our heads there is a lesson of truth. As we face such a future, hierarchies, titles, honors are reduced to what they are in reality: a passing puff of smoke. And the only certainty left to us is that of naked suffering, common to all, intermingling its roots with those of a stubborn hope.

I would call this a hope beyond hope, the willingness not only to embrace that danger but to find joy in it. The systems that structure our world have done more damage than we can understand, but no matter how dark the world grows, there is a light within. That is the message of the best of our theological and secular philosophical traditions, a recurring theme of the best of our art. Wendell Berry has been returning to this theme for decades in essays, fiction, and poetry, and it is the subject of one of his Sabbath poems:

It is hard to have hope. It is harder as you grow old,
for hope must not depend on feeling good
and there is the dream of loneliness at absolute midnight.
You also have withdrawn belief in the present reality
of the future, which surely will surprise us,
and hope is harder when it cannot come by prediction
any more than by wishing. But stop dithering.
The young ask the old to hope. What will you tell them?
Tell them at least what you say to yourself.

This is what I say to myself: Whatever our chances of surviving, we define ourselves in the present moment by what we do. There are two basic tasks in front of us. First, we should commit some of our energy to movements that focus on the question of justice in this world, especially those of us with the privilege that is rooted in that injustice. As a middle-class American white man, I can see plenty of places to continue working, in movements dedicated to ending white supremacy, patriarchy, capitalism, and U.S. wars of domination.

I also think there is important work to be done in experiments to prepare for what will come in this new future that we can’t yet describe in detail. Whatever the limits of our predictive capacity, we can be pretty sure we will need ways of organizing ourselves to help us live in a world with less energy and fewer material goods. We all have to develop the skills needed for that world (such as farming and gardening with fewer inputs, food preparation and storage, and basic tinkering), and we will need to recover a deep sense of community that has disappeared from many of our lives. This means abandoning a sense of ourselves as consumption machines, which the contemporary culture promotes, and deepening our notions of what it means to be humans in search of meaning. We have to learn to tell different stories about our sense of self, our connection to others, and our place in nature. The stories we tell will matter, as will the skills we learn.

Berry’s basis for hope begins with a recognition of where we are and who we are, at our best:

Found your hope, then, on the ground under your feet.
Your hope of Heaven, let it rest on the ground
underfoot. Be lighted by the light that falls
freely upon it after the darkness of the nights
and the darkness of our ignorance and madness.
Let it be lighted also by the light that is within you,
which is the light of imagination. By it you see
the likeness of people in other places to yourself
in your place. It lights invariably the need for care
toward other people, other creatures, in other places
as you would ask them for care toward your place and you.

In my own life, I continue to work on those questions of justice in existing movements, but I have shifted a considerable amount of time to helping build local networks that can create a place for those experiments. Different people will move toward different efforts depending on talents and temperaments; we should all follow our hearts and minds to apply ourselves where it makes sense, given who we are and where we live. After offering several warnings about arrogance, I’m not about to suggest I know best what work other people should do. If there is any reason for hope, it will be in direct proportion to our capacity for humility and seeing ourselves as part of, not on top of, the larger living world. Berry ends that Sabbath poem not with false optimism but a blunt reminder of how easy it is for us to fall out of right relation with ourselves, others, and the larger living world:

No place at last is better than the world. The world
is no better than its places. Its places at last
are no better than their people while their people
continue in them. When the people make
dark the light within them, the world darkens.

The argument I have made rests on an unsentimental assessment of the physical world and the life-threatening consequences of human activity over the past 10,000 years. We would be wise not to plan on supernatural forces or human inventions to save us from ourselves. It is unlikely that we will be delivered to a promised land by divine or technological intervention. Wishing the world were less harsh will not magically make it less harsh. We should not give into the temptation to believe in magic. As James Howard Kunstler puts it, we should stop “clamoring desperately for rescue remedies that would allow them to continue living exactly the way they were used to living, with all the accustomed comforts.”

But we should keep telling stories. Our stories do not change the physical world, but they have the potential to change us. In that sense, the poet Muriel Rukeyser was right when she said, “The universe is made of stories, not of atoms.”

Whatever particular work intellectuals do, they are also storytellers. Artists tell stories, but so do scientists and engineers, teachers and preachers. Our work is always both embedded in a story and advancing a story. Intellectual work matters not just for what it discovers about how the world works, but for what story it tells about those discoveries.

To think apocalyptically is not to give up on ourselves, but only to give up on the arrogant stories we modern humans have been telling about ourselves. Our hope for a decent future — indeed, any hope for even the idea of a future — depends on our ability to tell stories not of how humans have ruled the world but how we can live in the world. The royal must give way to the prophetic and the apocalyptic. The central story of power — that the domination/subordination dynamic is natural and inevitable — must give way to stories of dignity, solidarity, equality. We must resist not only the cruelty of repression but the seduction of comfort.

The songs we sing matter at least as much as the machines we build. Power always assumes it can control. Our task is to resist that control. Gorka offers that reminder, of the latent power of our stories, in the fancifully titled song “Flying Red Horse”:

They think they can tame you, name you and frame you,
Aim you where you don’t belong.
They know where you’ve been but not where you’re going,
And that is the source of the songs.

Robert Jensen is a journalism professor at the University of Texas at Austin and board member of the Third Coast Activist Resource Center. His latest book is ‘All My Bones Shake: Radical Politics in the Prophetic Voice’ (Soft Skull Press). He is also the author of ‘Getting Off: Pornography and the End of Masculinity’ (South End Press).