I was browsing Wikipedia earlier when I stumbled across an article about something called Anarcho-Primitivism. Here is a link to the article. For those of you too lazy or too busy to read it (and yet you have time and energy to devote to my blog on nexopia for some reason), here's a quick synopsis. Anarcho-primitivists believe that with the advent of agricultural societies, we essentially lost our humanity and governments started taking over our minds and restricting us and controlling us and taking away our rights and equality. They assert that the hunter-gatherer way of life was how humans were meant to live, and that returning to that way of life would be the best course for our species and our planet.

I've actually been thinking about this recently, without any real prompting from things that have been happening around me, just because I was considering my political beliefs. I haven't realized it until just now, but apparently I am an anarcho-primitivist in theory. I say in theory because besides the fact that I don't give two shits about political ideals and less than that about politics in general (because they bore me, confuse me, and aggravate me, and I think that's the whole point). In practice, as far as governing a "mass culture" as these anarchists might say, I am all over the map. I'm a National Socialist Liberal Feudalist, and if that seems like a contradiction to you then it probably is, because I have put no thought into that label and it will change by tomorrow I imagine.

But the idea of going back to a hunter-gatherer way of life is intriguing. There is a stigma towards our earliest of ancestors nowadays, that they lived in complete ignorance of luxury, had no concept of language or fashion and did not have the basic motor skills necessary to even protect themselves from the elements. In short, all scholars agree (that's an oxymoron) that that perception is complete bullshit. If any scholars don't agree, please step forward now to be ridiculed, because without language and protection from the elements we would not have survived for however long we survived before Rome, which seems to be the basis of the concept of civilization to most people for some sad reason.

Actually, hunter-gatherer society was fairly advanced in some respects. Women, for example, have been fighting for rights under a civilized government for hundreds, arguably thousands of years now. In hunter-gatherer societies, women were equal. In civilized society, people work for other people that they don't even know as a minute cog in a gigantic industrial wheel for a cause they neither care nor know about, whereas in a hunter-gatherer society, people worked to survive and to help their families survive, and they did it because they had to and wanted to, rather than because they were forced to. In a civilized society, wars are started because of reasons like the economy and religious differences (actually, there are very few wars started only because of religious differences). In a hunter-gatherer society, war is undesirable and therefore uncommon. Certainly organized warfare was out of the question, since tribes could not band together for fear of overpopulation, which would be unsustainable without agriculture.

So in short, hunter-gatherers had a fun time while we civilized folk plod along having a miserable existence trying to scrape a living for and from people we don't care about.

That sounds nice, in theory, but I'll repeat something that Wikipedia said. In order to revert back to a hunter-gatherer society, it would be necessray to wipe out probably about 90% of the world's human population. And here we hit our first major snag. This is not going to happen anytime soon (we hope), and it's certainly not going to happen because everyone in the world suddenly agrees that anarcho-primitivism is the way to do it.

So in short, my entire point is, why the fuck (excuse my French) do people even bother going around calling themselves anarcho-primitivisim? Sure it's a nice thought, but so is having the ability to fly or going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy or believing that aliens created the pyramids so that they have a map to return to Earth in the year 2012 and reward the people who believed in them by giving them telekinetic powers and a brand new Mustang convertible, and people who go around trying to flap their arms to fly or cast Fellatio Cunnilingus with their magic wands or wear tin foil hats that say "alienz cum here plz" are all retarded and should be locked up for being retarded. They may say 'oh but we have this theory...' but we can tell them, 'well your theory is impossible, not to mention stupidly impossible, and did we say impossible, so go bother someone else.' Anarcho-primitivism is a really, really, stupid thing to dedicate ones life to. If a massive disease wipes out 90% of the earth (or the aliens come because they notice the pyramids and give 90% of the earth Mustangs which are faulty and blow up that many people simeoultaneously), then we can all go back to being happy hunter-gatherers. But for now? Shut up and get a job, you're not going to change anything by writing books and posting blogs and... oh.

I'm done.











PS: I'd like to point out something funny about the Wikipedia article.



So anarcho-primitivists don't believe in symbology and objectification, hmm? Then why do they have a flag for their political ideology?

I'm getting bored with hearing people repeat the same grade-school jargon over and over again. "Be an individual! Think for yourself! Don't let others tell you how to act!" Thank you, little sir echo. I've had enough of this tomfoolery, and in response, I shall be opinionated about the subject.

Individualism is fine and dandy. I don't mind it. I enjoy being a seperate entity from my friends and family and acquaintances, with seperate characteristics and seperate habits and thought processes. And I notice that other people enjoy being individuals too, with blue mohawks and stripey shirts and carrying around dolls. Besides the fact that dressing different to be different is about the most retarded way I can think of to try and prove that you're different (that's a whole other tangent), I fully support self-expression, even if I don't agree with carrying around dolls and dressing like you're still a little girl, because it reeks of immaturity and obstinance at growing up (which, by the way, is a good and necessary thing).

However, when people start whining to me that "oh, everybody is always forcing their opinions on me about how I act" then I have no sympathy. Empathy, maybe a little, but I'll keep it quiet.

Look, humans are by our very nature herd-based and socially-driven animals. Without other humans around, most of us go batshit insane. I don't mean for a few days at a time. If we're isolated for weeks or months or years, we get fucked up. That's why solitary isolation is such a punishment in prison, adding to the fact that it introduces claustrophobia into the equation. Without other humans around to keep us in check, we lose important developments we should have had. I would not be where I am today if it weren't for my friend Nick, who outside of my parents, was the person who most influenced me to continue reading books and playing music. He told me point blank that it was stupid not to, and I listened to him because I wanted to have things to talk about with him. I have grown as a better person because of it, and all because I let someone else influence who I was.

Conversely, I have another friend (I won't name names, but he knows who he is) who grew up secluded and cut off from regular people as a loner, whose family didn't really pay attention to him at all after his little brother was born. The consequences of not having anyone to guide and mold him throughout his latter years of being a teenager have had dire repercussions. He has missed out on discovering many social graces, and cannot deal very well with group situations. He also is depressed, partly because he has few actual friends to now gain back these social graces with (though, he's improving expontentially since I started hanging out with him (I'm so modest)).

What did I need when Nick told me to shut up and start reading? I didn't need self-discovery. I knew who I was, I just wanted to read and Nick wanted me to read more, and so I read more, and I improved because of it.

What does my other friend need? Does he need self-discovery? Does he need to take a step back and look at his own life to decide what's best for him next? Maybe in some cases, but socially, no. He needs outside influences to help him grow as a person in our society. Like it or not, we have unspoken rules in Western Canada about what is appropriate and what isn't. You don't catch on to these things unless you're around other people and you watch and listen what they do and say. If you miss the boat, everybody will laugh at you as you flounder in the shallows.

And that is my diatrybe on individualism. It's not really individualism I'm talking about, but sheltering oneself from outside influence. Outside influence is good. It's necessary. And if you ever get a job, then hell, you'd better be prepared to change your entire persona to suit your boss's mood.

A Short Production on the Subject of Legal Drinking Age.
The scene: A bar on Main St.
11:58 PM

WESLEY walks in stage right, approaching the bar, behind which BARKEEP is cleaning glasses.

Wesley: Hullo, barkeep. A pint, if you please.
Barkeep: Coming right up, sir. hesitates. Do you have ID?
Wesley: drawing it out. Here you go.
Barkeep: inspects ID. I'm sorry sir, your birthday is tomorrow. You are still eighteen, and by the provincial laws, you may not drink until you are nineteen years of age or older.
Wesley: My birthday is in two minutes.
Barkeep: Be that as it may, our provincial government [a chorus of angelic voices come from nowhere and sing the praises of said provincial government, and the barkeep turns his face towards heaven to receive a blessing from the glorious Parliament in the Sky] has decreed that you must be nineteen years of age or older to drink in British Columbia.
Wesley: There is now ten seconds until my birthday.
Barkeep: Sir, I must ask you to leave this establishment, as you are not of age to be in here.
[outside, a clock chimes midnight. Immediately, Wesley undergoes a change. He grows a three-foot long beard and dons a fashionable fedora, and light begins to glow around him as he undergoes a second puberty. The puberty of manhood. The angelic voices begin singing again.]
Enter GORDON CAMPBELL (premier of BC) stage left.
Gordon Campbell: Welcome to adulthood, Wesley MacWesleyson! How does it feel to finally be magically mature enough to enter a bar?
Wesley: in a far deeper voice. I feel.. different... like I can responsibly handle drinking a pint of beer! Barkeep!
Barkeep: saluting. Yes, sah?
Wesley: Fetch me a pint of Guinness, on the double!
Barkeep: busying himself. Yes, sah!
Gordon Campbell: nodding. Very good. Use this power responsibly, Wesley. Remember that with great age comes great responsibility.
Wesley: Do sit down and have a pint with me, Gordy!
Gordon Campbell: Don't mind if I do! takes a seat. This'll be just the trick before I go off on my trip to Hawaii.
[The barkeep delivers both of the men a pint of Guinness each, and they sit engaged in telling witty stories. The curtain falls.]

STORIES OF MY TEENAGE LIFE
This one time, Nick and I were coming home from visitng some girls in New Westminster for the heck of it (there were two of their houses we went to, and neither of them were home so we told their guardians we were charming male models and could we come in), and I was pretending to be drunk and/or high on the Skytrain. I was singing loudly and flopping all over the place, and I eventually collapsed on the floor. At one station, I got tired of acting dumb so I told Nick in a loud voice: "I'm getting off now," but he thought I was kidding and stayed on, and I got off myself and had to go home alone.

Another time, I didn't pretend to be drunk, but I sang Irish folk songs for these two old ladies, and they clapped when I arrived at my station, they were saying I had a very beautiful voice.

I have never been caught on the Skytrain without a ticket, but that's probably because I only very rarely don't pay.

Another time on the Skytrain, I pretended to be retarded. Literally mentally disabled. Since one of my cousins is, I just acted like he did with some extra bits thrown in, but I didn't overact. I got into a conversation about Scotland with this lady (I know a lot about Scotland), and I told her all about my trip and about clan tartans and stuff. Then she got off the train, and I said: "Bye, I love you"and she smiled back at me and waved goodbye. Then I started talking to another man, and when I got off he asked me if I was okay getting home by myself, and I said "Yup, if anyone tries to mug me I'll call my dad and use karate. K bye I love you." That was awesome, that time.

I wonder why nobody ever rides the Skytrain with me.

Once at the Rebel Spell concert at Seylynn, Joel, Nick, Erin, Samwise and a girl I don't know the Nexus of and I all pretended to be druids. We went behind the Hall to the woods and arranged ourselves in a circle and chanted. Joel went and grabbed people and carried them into the circle and threw them into the middle, and we all chanted and were mysterious and evil-looking. My favourite line I said was: "Okay, now turn him over on his stomach and pull down his pants!" The poor guy almost wet those pants!

Oh, and this one time at Joyce station I pretended to be Irish and went up to this girl who was pretty cute, but I couldn't tell her age. I think she may have been older than me by a few years, but whatever. She was carrying an instrument bag, and I asked her if it was bagpipes in an Irish accent since they kinda looked like it (I had my "Ireland" T-shirt on and my hat Armando, making me look quite Irish), and she said no it was a flute. I put on a disappointed face and was all like: "Oh, too bad. Anyway, I bought a ticket earlier today for this... thing... the... Skytrain and I was just wondering if I had to pay again." And she said no I didn't, and I said thanks and got on the Skytrain and she was like: "No problem, see you." And I said bye. She was cute and nice, and she had a cool trench coat-like coat on. Those coats rock.

Oh, and that time we were pretending to be druids, we stole this one guy's shoe. He had to hop around and get it again, but we treated it like a sacred object. Our reason for not sacrificing the guy to the gods was that he was the sacred wearer of the Holy Shoe. Also, during that concert, I was moshing and I found a shoe on the ground. I picked it up and looked around for its owner but I couldn't find it so I threw it into the mosh pit and then tried to go get it again, but instead I got knocked down. That was fun.

Also at that concert I was moshing in my mother's blue silk scarf. Apparently it goes really well with my blue jacket. I'm a winter or something. When the concert was over I put the scarf over my mouth like a Turkish warrior and people said I was their idol. I guess because it was feckin' hot in that mosh pit and everyone could barely breathe.

I think I'm the first person to ever go to mosh at punk concerts in his mother's silk scarf.

Once I climbed a tree and said hello to all the passerbys. Most of the people said hello back, and some even stopped to talk to me. I had a French accent that day. Then my dad saw me just before I said hello to another cute girl (the first one of the day, too) and told me to get down. I think he scared her more than I would have, with him yelling at a tree and the tree yelling back (he was a fair distance away). The expression on the girl's face was really funny, though.

Awhile ago, I went to the Fright Nights at Playland with Joel and Nick, and it was my first time meeting Joel. As an introduction I was like: "Hi, my name is Dan. Yes, I am aware I'm queer." I meant queer as its proper defintion (as in, odd), but foreseeably, Joel took it as I was actually gay. At the time, I wasn't even aware it meant gay. Later he asked me whether I was homo or bi and it all got cleared up (after a lot of confusion on all our parts - poor Nick, he'd known me since we were wee childs. Wonder what he was thinking that night...), and now Joel and I only sleep together some nights. Only when it's convenient. It's not like we lust after each other or anything...

I had a guy on the train to Montreal convinced I was an Irish kid from Meath (near Dublin) who was out visiting his mother and lived with his dad on a farm. The dad knocked up the mom at grad and the mom got pissed and went to Canada, saddling the dad with "me." I'm a better actor than I thought

That's all the amusing things I've done I can remember right now. Somebody should really help me get more stories. Oh, by the way... I'm not a playa, nor do I want to be. The fact that the girls I mentioned were cute was just observation.