It never really ceases to amaze me, how the Netherlands destroys itself in the pursuit of a futile war on drugs. You can trace almost every problem this country suffers back to the war on drugs.
Housing shortage? Drug dealers use real estate to launder their money. Houses are also specifically bought to secretly grow cannabis in. The government set up an experiment to legally grow cannabis, but now the boomers started complaining about the smell. Do you think I like how half the country smells like cow shit or slaughtered pigs?
Labor shortage? Take a good look at how many people are involved in the illegal drug trade. Not just people who sell drugs for a living, but also people in prison for selling drugs, the police involved in chasing after them, the lawyers involved in keeping them out of jail, the cryptocurrency exchanges that exist solely for laundering drug money.
All these explosions we’re suffering, are also a consequence of the war on drugs. Today there’s a massive explosion in the Hague, it killed four people so far and fifty homes had to be evacuated because the buildings may now be structurally unsafe. This comes a few months after a drug lab exploded in Rotterdam, killing a bunch of people.
And if this whole war on drugs actually worked, then fine. But in the war on drugs, drugs won. It is completely insane, how much money is being wasted on this. Consider this: In an average year, Dutch customs claims to find about 3 billion Euro worth of cocaine at the harbor.
What are they going to do with it? They will destroy it of course. Will this stop anyone from using cocaine? Of course not. You could set up a very simple experiment: You could hold an auction and let coffee shops each bid on up to 1 kilo worth of cocaine, that they can sell to their customers.
The government has a budget deficit of four billion Euro. Auction the cocaine you find at what you claim to be the market value and you would get rid of 75% of your budget deficit. In the process you would crash the price, which would destroy the incentive criminals have to trade cocaine. And this is just what they find at the harbor.
When I go to a concert in this country, people are wearing sunglasses inside so you can’t see their pupils. Some are standing halfway backwards from the ketamine. But for whatever reason, people want to continue pretending that it’s somehow terribly sinful to take some drugs, that it makes you a terrible person, so we have to continue fighting this futile war. You know what makes you a terrible person? Eating the flesh of pigs who are forced into gas chambers.
You could do the same with the other drugs. The other day they found 55 million Euro worth of ketamine in a barn. Auction it. We’re developing ketamine sprays for people who are severely depressed, it costs thousands of dollars. But for 20 Euro, people can buy a gram of ketamine off the street. What do you think is going to happen? Does nobody see how insane this is?
You could get rid of our entire budget deficit, simply by tolerating cocaine and other drugs, the way cannabis is tolerated. That is, you tolerate the sale in coffee shops. Then eventually at some point, if the experiment is successful, you could start looking at regulating the production too.
When you legalize it all, people will gravitate towards whatever it is that works best for them. Right now however, they tend to gravitate towards whatever is accessible to them. This means that when you’re very successful at stopping cocaine from coming in, cocaine price increases, which leads people to switch to amphetamines and things like 4mmc instead, or even to methamphetamine.
If I wanted to buy ketamine today, I couldn’t legally do so. On the other hand, if you add a fluor group to it, to produce 2F-Ketamine, then it’s perfectly legal, I could pay for it with iDeal and have it in my mail tomorrow. But the boomers don’t draw any lessons from this, rather, they start trying to figure out how to ban all the designer drugs.
You’re dealing with a generation of young people without a future, inheriting a planet that’s turning into a global desert, growing up in multicultural hellholes together with refugees from the middle east who wander around with various untreated traumas they pass on to the rest of us, unable to find a place to live, stuck in a zero sum game of memorizing facts to pass exams, their brains inflamed by tiny pieces of plastic and a new corona virus, their minds broken by Internet algorithms that leave them isolated, bitter and unable to relate to each other.
Of course they’re going to take drugs. How bad of a thing that is, depends on how you respond to it. Willie Nelson spent his whole life smoking cannabis, he’s 91 now and still performing on stage. Ernst Jünger made it to a 102, just like the inventor of LSD.
If we play our cards right, we could find out that there’s no Alzheimer’s wave if the boomers spend the next ten years smoking cannabis and taking psilocybe mushrooms. We could find out that autistic children who take mescaline become able to relate to neurotypical children.
Just accept it. Accept that you fucked up, that you’re now all millionaires on paper, that you did really well for yourselves, but that your children and grandchildren have no future and just want to spend their days sedated.
Until you can accept that, it will just gets worse.
I’ll say it again: fussing over laws and politics is for burnouts who have no other place left to put their hopes and passions.
(1) the war on drugs works just fine for singapore, it’s our pussy-footed prosecution of it here in the west.
(2) you keep blackpilling that the next generation has no future, but we can’t predict that. yes, all the problems you’ve pointed out are problems, but i don’t think the human race is going to go extinct. it’ll suck for the vast majority, but there are also opportunities in the realignment.
You don’t get the point of it all rin
The government doesn’t care about drugs
It wants to hurt you (as in, the citizen), to provoke a Stockholm syndrome response in you. Drugs are simply an avenue it can exploit because it can use the facade “it’s for your own good”.
The Matrix is a very literal, very true film. It is simultaneously hilarious and deeply depressing that normies can watch it, cheer on Neo, and not grasp that they are the NPCs morphing into Smith when they say things like “taxes are the price we pay for living in a society”.
The Western world will turn into a big hospital… Taking Soma will be compulsory. SSRIs will be in the water…Everyone sick!
Please don’t be so pecimistic. It’s just that the West is commiting collective suicide.
The centre of the world is moving to Asia. Yellow man will carry the batten forward.
Anyway, your analysis of the CV19 disaster is brilliant. Thanks.
Do you trust taking these drugs?
OT:
https://twitter.com/observebyproxy7/status/1865109909596962867?s=46
Related to this, is something I learned from reading Thomas Ligotti’s opus of nihilistic philosphy, “The Conspiracy Against The Human Race,” a tome which I have fanboi’d over repeatedly in the early years of my time on this blog.
The final third of his excellent book considers (and later deposes) the philosophy of Buddhism. Among his various critiques, he brings to the reader’s attention a book by Suzanne Segal, “Collision With The Infinite,” which chronicles the life of a woman in the 60’s who devoted herself to Transcendental Meditation, and, after intensely pursuing it’s practices, had some sort of neurological(?) or psychological (?) “POP” in her brain and found herself completely removed from a normal human experience of Self and World. She described her newfound existence as being “set back” from herself about 3 feet, observing herself acting like a puppet, while her locus of observation was merely a breath away.
This experience afforded her all sorts of novel “spiritual” insights, and she did indeed become something of a spiritual guru, offering all sorts of wisdom about the “great beyond” that were not available to her students.
But Ligotti was perspicacious enough to read her biography to the end. Near the end of her life, she made many references to what she called “The Vastness”, which was her word for what I would call the “Monad” or “Source” or “Void”. In the beginning, she recognized — as many Advaita Vedanta non-dualists do — that each of us as individuals are merely tiny expressions or puppets of the Grand Designer.
(This is where I find myself in conflict with Trytpie. Tryptie is opposed to non-dualism, and s/he emphatically endorses the notion of Negative Force/Evil. I’m still on the fence)
Nonetheless, I will always give more weight to someone’s lived experience rather than their abstract mentations, and Segal eventually came to see the darker side of what she called “The Vastness”. She acquired a terminal cancer at the end of her life and started to feel horrified about what her non-egoic/non-dual perspective was showing her. I will allow Ligotti to close out this chapter:
Another statistic of long-term ego-death was Suzanne Segal, who one day
found she had become bereft of herself. After years of seeking a cure to the
unease this experience had set off in her—it would seem that not
everybody is at peace with being nobody—she wrote Collision with the
Infinite: A Life Beyond the Personal Self (1996). The following year she
died of a brain tumor at the age of forty-two. Although no link was
established between her diseased brain and the disappearance of her ego,
cerebral tumors causing altered states of consciousness and changes in
personality are not unknown.
Unlike U. G. [Krishnamurti], but similar to Wren-Lewis, Segal sought answers to her
transformation in spiritual traditions that addressed egoless experience.
Unlike Wren-Lewis but similar to U. G., Segal had pursued a spiritual
practice, Transcendental Meditation, before she became the beneficiary of
enlightenment by accident. Segal lost her ego two years after discontinuing
TM, which she performed for eight years. In an interview, she stated that
she did not feel meditation played a role in the loss of her self-identity. U.
G. was in agreement with Segal. After years of pursuing ego-death through
meditation, he railed against this procedure as pointless and perhaps
harmful.
For most of humanity, including that part which studies consciousness, the
phenomenon of ego-death is not enthralling, or even well marked as a
human experience. Ordinary folk have all their big questions answered to
their satisfaction by some big book [Hi, Fucko — ed]. And cognitive psychologists,
philosophers of mind, and neuroscientists have their reputations to
consider as high priests of the noosphere. Quite naturally, then, almost no
one figures their time to be ill-spent in bickering about some point of
scripture or a psycho-philosophical poser rather than in sizing up some
superlative individuals who have called into question what we are or what
we might be aside from slaves of our egos.
Regardless of the life stories of U. G., Wren-Lewis, and Suzanne Segal,
ego-death is a state that has nothing but anecdotal evidence to support it,
which groups this phenomenon with mystical experiences and revealed
religions. As one might imagine, though, ego-death is laden with about as
much mass appeal as physical death. It has been eyeballed as an ideal only
by a miniscule number of our species who feel there is something wrong
with ego-life, which they conceive as an uncanny masquerade where things
they would rather not see are behind every false face. To everyone else, life
is life and death is death. We are not sold on impersonal survival. It would
negate all that we are, or think we are, for what are we but egos itching to
survive? And once our egos have been deposed, what would be left of us?
By all recorded accounts, everything would be left except what Horwitz
called “ a vanity, an elaborate delusion, a ruse.”
Some would say that if human beings must exist, the condition in which
U. G., Wren-Lewis, and Segal found themselves is the optimum model, one
in which everyone’s ego has been overthrown and our consciousness of ourselves as persons goes up in smoke. As Segal tried to explain what had
happened to her:
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The experience of living without a personal identity, without an experience of being somebody, an “I” or a “me,” is exceedingly difficult to describe, but it is absolutely unmistakable. It can’t be confused with having a bad day or coming down with the flu or feeling upset or angry or spaced out. When the personal self disappears, there is no one inside who can be located as being you. The body is only an outline, empty of everything of which it had previously felt so full. The mind, body, and emotions no longer referred to anyone -— there was no one who
thought, no one who felt, no one who perceived. Yet the mind, body, and emotions
continued to function unimpaired; apparently they did not need an “I” to keep doing what they always did. Thinking, feeling, perceiving, speaking, all continued as before, functioning with a smoothness that gave no indication of the emptiness behind them. No one suspected that such a radical change had occurred. All conversations were carried on as before; language was employed in the same manner. Questions could be asked and answered, cars driven, meals cooked, books read, phones answered, and letters written. (Collision with the Infinite)
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
As the ego-dead, so we might imagine, we would continue to know pain in
its various forms -— that is the essence of existence -— but we would not be
cozened by our egos to take it personally, an attitude that converts an
individual’s pain into conscious suffering. Naturally, we would still have to
feed, but we would not be omnivorous gourmands who eat for
amusement, gorging down everything in nature and turning to the
laboratory for more. As for reproduction, who can say? Animals are driven
to copulate, and even as the ego-dead we would not be severed from
biology, although we would not be unintelligently ruled by it, as we are
now. As a corollary of not being unintelligently ruled by biology, neither
would we sulk over our extinction, as we do now. Why raise another
generation destined to climb aboard the evolutionary treadmill? But then,
why not raise another generation of the ego-dead? For those who do not
perceive either their pleasures or their pains as belonging to them, neither
life nor death would be objectionable or not objectionable, desirable or not
desirable, all right or not all right. We would be the ego-dead, the self-less,
and, dare we say, the enlightened.
A depiction of what our lives might be like in such a state would seem
to have been recorded in the eightieth section of the Tao Te Ching, perhaps to show up humankind’s modus vivendi by daydreaming about one not of this earth:
Let all lands be small
and their people few,
so they have no need
for time-saving machines.
Let them keep their minds
On the coming of death
And never stray far
From where they were born.
Should they have boats
Or carts to go traveling,
Let there be nothing
They would want to see.
Should they have weapons,
Let them be put someplace
Out of everyone’s sight
To rust and grow useless.
Let each person’s duties
Be no more than may be
Kept track of by tying knots
On a short piece of string.
Let their food be enough
And their clothes drab,
Their homes decent shelter
And their lives unremarkable.
If the next land is so close
That they can hear its
Dogs barking at night and its
Roosters crowing at dawn …
Let them get old and die
Rather than be troubled
By the least curiosity
To have a look over there.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
One might think of this not as a description of an ego-dead society but of
one that is dead all the way. But one would be wrong. Wherever there are
those who “get old and die,” there are also those who live in wait for age
and for death -— youths and infants and infants-to-be. And although none of
them takes his fate personally, why should any of them take it at all? Of
course, this would not occur to the ego-dead, just as it does not occur to
species of a lower order that recycle themselves as nature bids them. The
ego-dead would be back to where our race began—surviving, reproducing,
dying. Nature’s way would be restored in all its mindlessness and puppetry.
But even if ego-death is regarded as the optimum model for human
existence, one of liberation from ourselves, it still remains a compromise
with being, a concession to the blunder of creation itself. We should be
able to do better, and we can. To have our egos killed off is second-best to
killing off death and all the squalid byplay that flitters around it. So let all
lands be small, and grower smaller and smaller until no lands are left where
any human footstep need press itself upon the earth.
At the height of her ego-death, Segal was ecstatic twenty-four hours a day.
She also began to speak of what she called the “vastness,” a term that sounds as if it belongs in one of Lovecraft’s tales of cosmic horror. To Segal,
the vastness was a unitary phenomenon that comprised all existence. As
she wrote, “The purpose of human life has been revealed. The vastness
created these human circuitries in order to have an experience of itself out
of itself that it couldn’t have without them.” Living in the vastness as she
did, nothing was useless to Segal because it served the purposes of the
vastness. For her, it also felt good once she had gotten over her initial fear
of being a tool of the vastness rather than a person. However, toward the
end of her life, as American psychotherapist and Buddhist Stephan Bodian
recounts in his afterword to Collision with the Infinite, Segal began to have
more intense experiences in which “the vastness became even vaster for
itself.” This new phase of the vastness both distressed her emotionally and
sapped her physical energy until she died from her unsuspected brain
tumor not long afterward.
Like Segal’s vastness, Schopenhauer’s Will has the same purpose in mind for human beings—to use our “circuitries” to acquire some kind of knowledge of its mindless self. For Schopenhauer, though, the self-seeking Will does not feel good to human beings except during moments when we temporarily satisfy its universal ravening as it emerges within us. Why the vastness or the Will should want to use us in this way is a mystery. Both of these non-dualistic meta-realities do serve the purpose of making sense of human life in their own way. But whether they make us feel good does not seem to matter to either of them. We are just vehicles; they are the
drivers. And wherever we are going, as Segal and Schopenhauer have
assured us, along with every other individual whose consciousness has been
opened to the vastness by whatever name or nature, we must keep in mind
that we are not what we think we are. Taking things a step further,
Professor Nobody would teach us that neither is our world what we think
it is, lecturing us with a flamboyant dispassion on the omnipresence of the
infernal in “The Eyes That Never Blink.”:
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Mist on a lake, fog in thick woods, a golden light shining on wet stones -— such sights make it all very easy. Something lives in the lake, rustles through the woods, inhabits the stones or the earth beneath them. Whatever it may be, this something lies just out of sight, but not out of vision for the eyes that never blink. In the right surroundings our entire being is made of eyes that dilate to witness the haunting of the universe. But really, do the right surroundings have to be so obvious in their spectral atmosphere?
Take a cramped waiting room, for instance. Everything there seems so well-anchored in normalcy. Others around you talk ever so quietly; the old clock on the wall is sweeping aside the seconds with its thin red finger; the window blinds deliver slices of light from the outside world and shuffle them with shadows. Yet at any time and in any place, our bunkers of banality may begin to rumble. You see, even in a stronghold of our fellow beings we may be subject to abnormal fears that would land us in an asylum if we voiced them to another. Did we just feel some presence that does not belong among us? Do our eyes see something in a corner of that room in which we wait for we know not what?
Just a little doubt slipped into the mind, a little trickle of suspicion in the bloodstream, and all those eyes of ours, one by one, open up to the world and see its horror. Then: no belief or body of laws will guard you; no friend, no counselor, no appointed personage will save you; no locked door will protect you; no private office will hide you. Not even the solar brilliance of a summer day will harbor you from horror. For horror eats the light and digests it into darkness.
-=-=-=-=-=-=
Happy Holidays, my friends!!!
– Mehen
>> Let all lands be small
and their people few,
so they have no need
for time-saving machines.
Let them keep their minds
On the coming of death
And never stray far
From where they were born.
Should they have boats
Or carts to go traveling,
Let there be nothing
They would want to see.
Should they have weapons,
Let them be put someplace
Out of everyone’s sight
To rust and grow useless.
Let each person’s duties
Be no more than may be
Kept track of by tying knots
On a short piece of string.
Let their food be enough
And their clothes drab,
Their homes decent shelter
And their lives unremarkable.
If the next land is so close
That they can hear its
Dogs barking at night and its
Roosters crowing at dawn …
Let them get old and die
Rather than be troubled
By the least curiosity
To have a look over there.
This reminds me of Radagast!!
The Tao in me honors the Tao in you, Rad
Here is an interesting BBC debate on the topic of drug laws and drug addiction between the late Matthew Perry, Peter Hitchens (younger brother of Christopher) and an aristocrat. It features some genuine laugh-out-loud moments:
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=CDtIZZiySgA
The War on Terror, The War on Drugs, The War on Viruses.
They each institutionalise a large apparatus of social control and entrench bureaucracies feeding off of cash flows, which have no interest in the war ending.