Nappy Muvers Dei 2014
(Especially for my own mother Adelaide (Della) and for all mothers living and past.)
Mother earth defines
you well. The longest rivers and
largest mountains get to the heart of you. Mother of all mothers who I
gargled
my very first sounds for. Mum, the first imprint that put me together,
the
garden of mum I grow in, the rich soil and the vast sky and fresh life
water that made me real, in the flesh and in the mind, i think. Cheers
for that.
For the countless thousands of hours spent tolerating my
little bossy boots stomping about your house like a screaming demon, I am
sincerely indebted. For my territorial pissing and poop markings, and for my
emotional terrorism around the terrible twos, I commend you on not making that
my career: metaphorically pissing and/or shitting on people. Thanks for not
returning my many declarations of war made against you, like Lao Tzu, you kept
the peace and did not fall for my infant black-mail and emotional hijacking operations. Smarter than an eye for an eye.
By demonstrating your infinite compassion for me you win
every vote and always come up top trumps. In a ruff and tuff' world i imagine that
unsaddled sympathy cuts through the bullshit and gets to the very heart of the
matter. Mother, the great reasoning, the oral tradition, all languages and
tongues of the mother, and in you, my mother. A listening ear and a improvisational skill at speaking
to me in her special way, her own way, each word full of
sincerity, burning like good poetry into the symbol processor, into my brain. Mind meets first
word at the mothers mouth, usually love, baby, oh, 'ouchi-ku' etc. I respect you for
leaving enough space in my life to re-knit the semantics and the symbols together, or
bind the meaning, and the symbols together.
Furthermore, to me you reflect the open source
ideal of generally matrist traits in society, open, and so opposed to
the current centralized closed authority crazed,
war-mad, patrist traits in contemporary society, really, you do. And
this is all credit to
Dad too of course too, for not over-riding your advice to me and your
own ways of dealing, simply based
upon his male strength. The open society is where freedom and individual
rights
are cherished, and where powers of authority and government are limited
to
protect against greedy super-powerful states shitting on everybody with
bombs, soft-drinks and celebrity brainwashing. This idea reflects
your tolerance of my own social explorations and your balanced mixture
of good
advice with allowing for a large amount of freedom to go and more or
less do what I liked, when I had demonstrated that I could
survive out there without you and dad. You were always kind and sweet to
friends and girl friends I invited into your house, you never put me on a
guilt
trip concerning sex. Similar to a generally matrist society at large,
sex is
treated openly and without taboo. A mothers mother knows how the circle
of life
works intimately, as Paul Krassner once put it: fuck socialism.
What man can know what it must be like to be a
mother and see her child
grow into a young adult, often reverting back to infantile tactics and
strategies but now deployed from a much larger body and a louder voice?
Mother encourages conversation and communication, river flows free.
Talking
about it can work it out, she says, this reflects the motherly oral
tradition, opposed
to writing things down into lists and fixing ideas onto a page in
alphabetical and grammatical cages, but instead speaking them, playing
with
the speech and finding a way to express it in the moment. Keeping your
wits about you,
as she would say. Still, here I fixed this writing up for your contemplation and enjoyment on mothers day. It is just as relevant tomorrow and any other day mind you.
I am ever grateful to you for turning me onto the wonders
of science and astronomy at an early age, kicking off my fascination with
mystery, the unknown universe and questions like ‘where did we come from?, together with
a loose Darwinian model wrapped up in your own special way of putting it,
often landing splatt in the face of God. Way to go mum. Yeah, your love seems
far greater than that of any God or mystical entity invoked from old dusty scripture.
Thank the soul of Elvis and the Beatles for showing God the door in a way that
maybe Nietzsche might have enjoyed, leading us into mums kitchen for a cup of
tea, and then off into a Hawking universe. Like mount Snowdon or like the great
river Severn, the water and the air and the earth, you are everywhere at he root
of all the good stuff, the life cycle, the life affirming principle, the chaos.
I see a connection between you and the positive
stereotype of the compassionate mother figure in the way you reason with
altered states of consciousness. You broke away from the pervasive thinking of
your generation which states that altered states are bad, anti-social and lead
to criminal behavior unless they are sanctioned by the government, like
alcohol, tobacco and sugar. For a non-cannabis user to come around to a
tolerant and liberal attitude towards it seems like a great achievement and
exemplary stance. And not just your own son but all people who choose to alter
their consciousness in any which way they please, as long as they do not
interfere and do harm to others. Many so called highly educated and intelligent
people do not hold this compassionate view and show no sympathy for anybody who
does not abide by the laws, teachings and doctrine they believe to be true, and
not just regarding altered states of consciousness but alterations of anything
and everything in society.
Mothers are generally friendly to mutation, no
matter what you may turn into, a mother knows intuitively it will be a
temporary trend and what lies underneath the cultural clothing we dress
ourselves in: the naked vulnerable and impressionable baby ape.
So the term mother
probably best sums up everything really, if it came down to just one word, which it rarely does. The ultimate
holistic entity, more omnipotent than God, the mama matrix most mysterious contains the
reproductive fertility magic of recursion, of recycling magic that make
nourishment and life out of nothingness. You really are my everything. Mwah, that's a kiss x
Nappy muvers dei, steve
