Passion artist vs a Formula driven artist.

Perhaps thanks, in part, to all these reality talent TV driven shows, it seems we now have the complete rise of the formula driven artistic creative. (We can talk about the "AI" propped up artistic creative intelligent genuises another time).

Had a very brief discussion with my second hand bookshop chap last week. (You know the chats, the discussions  between the many very important things you've got to do, always to brief as you have to fly off to some structured meeting you never remember again ever anyway). He raised some very pertinent issues. coupled with my own acquired, limited yes, understanding of life. A potjiekos of volitile diatribe, a mengelmoes of thought. With him adding the potatoes, me trying to throw in some miff ol spices. 

I feel the above needs to simply be aired and artistic creatives should also explore the concept of breaking out of this tick box, paint by numbers, formula driven creative design approach to everything currently being attempted in the arts. Its really killing the very essence of  artistic creative spontaneous combustion and the artistic designs never before seen creative ethos. 

A scientific mind is not always an artistic mind, when science dominates the arts you have science and not art. The 2 are linked on levels but to my mind the 2 are not really the same. "Thanky goodness for that." the greatest thing about a real artist is they can never technically create the same work twice. That's raw art - science will perhaps try seek to keep cloning itself - art does not - and should never ever really. Being technically correct is the objective of the engineering mind. We all know most engineers would but concrete block dresses on runway models. Practical but bland.

In the past - in the music industry for example,  it wasn't always the incredible voice that was  the reason why a musician was successful. Now its all about the voice. many 70's and 80,s musical artists would have been hoofed straight off these viscious little talent singing talent finding shows. Hoofed off by the appointed gestapo type talent finding expert panel, that themselves are not always gifted with a great set of pipes and vocals. However are now seen to be the absolute benchmark of were "that particular creative industry" should be going. A few minds at the apex of the industry pyramid. Leading the creatives Pied Piper style into the morass sea of singular creative understanding. Its where AI to my mind, will eventually lead us all, everything painted black. Judging by AI,s collective understanding of human split second thought creative thinking, AI sees us as pretty dark. Like gothic teenagers at a grunge festival. We must simply keep trying to be a rose growing through a thick concrete tar encrusted shell. A shell now spreading thickly over all rich fertile creative soil. 

In the movie industry for example, it also seems that creativity is being stifled by remakes of old classic after not so old classic. Instead of trying to perhaps focus on new original material "take a chance"content, the movie moguls would rather tweek existing scripts of previous movies done many times before. I belong to several streaming platforms. The amount of movies i start and completely lose interest with is staggering. No story just special effects. I want a story so i can shed a tear. Not special effects and people beating each other up for hours. It is really tedious at best. Those who like that can watch wrestling or boxing where people actually beat each other up. Not this stylized movie MMA stuff. Now we have movie after movie of insurmountable powerful baddies who overwhelm goodies. Who eventually take the day. Same script dofferent AI really. Now its gangs of baddies taking out worse badies and all then becoming just a syndicate of bigger baddies. Its really about the pure story between the battles, real intelligence. The running commentary jokes while the characters kill, maim and beat each other up is now the psycho story. The Cosby show fused with a clockwork orange script. Not my thing really. Should have its own movie genre next to horror - complete sheet!!!

What ever happened to the concept of,  "i love music that ive never heard before" or "i love films im still as yet to see for the very first time ever??" Im jealous when i hear someone hasnt seen an epic movie that ive experienced. I will never go through that again. Unless i have my memories erased. 

Critics can also be the killers of individualistic talent & thought. Because we read what they say and judge films according to "these never made a film, self appointed guru's". Why not just go see the movie yourself - have your own opinion rather. Most times it wont be the same as the perhaps jaundiced eye movie critics.  Who are possibly paid by rivals to write scathing reports to tank the numbers. 

It appears to my limited understanding of such things, that we have reached a creative ceiling in many of the creative arts. WHY you might ask limited ol me?  Well it could be any number of reasons. It could be possible the blockage is the very creative schools and environments created to nurture such wonderful talent.  "a rose my friend, is always a rose, no matter the soil from whence it grows."  I find any expert in the field of arts is already not current when they have very strong opinions about the subject and refuse to budge on their established ideas. My esteemed book man - the one who was party to the 10 minute exchange of thought earlier. Throwing in the potatoes. He mentioned  punk rock was great - not because it was any good - or even nurtured incredible musical talent - in fact most of the artists where just screaming therw heads literally off. No completely shouting really on a stage. But it lit a fire under peoples idea of what music was and could be. Creative endeavor doesn't always have to be a Monet. It has to be a passionate knee jerk unique response to ones own unique environment, understanding of established ideas. Remember only you are traveling the road your on. So only you can truly interpret it in your own artistic way. So why does it appear, everyone seems to want to just keep saying the exact same thing? Its sadly the herd creative mindset or the critic color in the line controllers who dictate. Or you will not sing in the next round Loss Vagas mentality. Why are we pushing creative synchronization, when what is needed is artistic creative individuality?

Remember a troll under the bridge will not ever let you past. Even though your vision can see the beautiful green grass on the other side of the Bridge. Trolls will simply never ever let you past. (Why?) simply because they can and will try to stop you, its their reason for living. So the reason is not complicated, however for sensitive creatives its reason enough to completely give up. Sadly many do just shrivel up and never sing again. That is why it is really up to the creative, to find a non violent way around those who profess to be the artistic and talent scout gurus of the day, the village, the country, the world. 

Get back to your artistic PASSION before even attempting any creativeendeavors. Passion is the single most powerful reason for doing anything creative, its what you share, its what the world needs right now. Its why art exists, it inspires hope or a discussion of understanding at least.

The REAL success of your work is simply measured on how much YOU enjoyed doing it. The creative process is therapeutic. Artistic success is not on sales or who validates you. Original creative ideas and thoughts will always be met by extreme violent opposition from the expert critic gestapo type "self opinionated experts in the creative field" panel. Its how people without all the talent showcase they have talent by controlling those who actually have the creative ability. Why put yourself in that nightmare firing line, to become the next formula driven creative puppet. To  kick out an album with absolutely no RAW soul.

A person  born with a talent isn't always more successful than the folk who work hard at improving their accumulated skills through passion. These creative sloggers have  chosen to work at adding skills to their quiver along the way. Its the artists that see beyond the trolls on the bridge, that are the true future of original creativity and original artistic endeavor. Sometimes  trolls are hiding in plane sight and simply are passion killers because of their own lack of creative esteem.

So if you are a creative, please stop throwing yourself at cold fowl feet for creative validation. You really dont need artistic degrees and pieces of academic paper to tell you your an artist. (Scientists and engineers need these things) real artists really dont. Your last work is your degree. You just need a little bit of self belief to passionately follow what you love doing, = create a portfolio of artistic evidence. This out ways any artistic paper degree gathering dust on a shelf. The best creatives are those that have side stepped around the current established system, to showcase their unique ability. The system will hate you for it - but so what - a few seconds and it just hisses past to completely hate someone else. 

Original work is forged from those that remember their own life experiences, only they are capturing the life that they are living & lived. Therefore only they can interpret it and showcase what they are going through. Each creative to ones own chosen artistic outlet medium.

This idea might just stop the rise of the formula driven AI creative and give rise to the Passion Driven Creative Spontaneous Artistic Combustionite. (yup i know - its not a word -  dont care,) 

You want to be an off grid artistic creative? You must be prepared to "off piste" COMPLETELY. Make up your own stuff, unapologetically!! And also let me not start on dpelling and brammer, which you would of noticed, i giblets dont adhere to. The question is can one write if one cant spell or structure sentences correctly? Left out a lot of blimmen capital upper case letters, eish!!!  

mmmm, Thats actually a very interesting question? considering you have got this far by reading this unscripted badly written diatribe?

Life love

• Life can be seen in a graveyard tree.
• Radiant rainbow wave spray in a backlit sea.

• A hummingbirds stare through a window pane.
• An immenent storm scents the advent of rain. 

• Signs of life obvious to the watchful mind.
• Between dark shadows the light you will find. 

• Lifes silent sadness more ruckus than laughter.
• Smiling back at life will never ever end in disaster.  

• Look for life in a moss covered autumn floor.
• Life is present even when we are cold to the core. 

• The suns rays permeate our periphery vision.
• To love life is an observant conscious human decision. 

• QJD

2024

This story is not about a place any where near to you, or even from a planet your vaguely familiar with. Its a story about a mythical land of many islands. On perhaps a soon to be discovered world planet far, far away. 

Who will discover this planet of water filled with many islands, you might wonder?  Well, to be honest, you will, of course. 

The scales might just fall off your fused eyes and you will suddenly for the very first time see this completely mythical secret land of islands in front of your vision. Perhaps through a telescope set up in your back yard. So your discovery would not be magically apparent like the kings new clothes, it will be more like the exact to the second moment 99% of Mr. Bernie's many wealthy clients, suddenly discovered the truth behind his incredible promise of immediate ponsi scheme wealth. 

This very far fetched mythical story I am about to tell goes like this. There once was an extremely vain ruler, of a vastly wealthy,  mineral rich island, on this mythical planet far, far away. He didn't really get to power with any major skills or wit, he couldn't really even count, not even just a little bit.  However what counted in this rulers favor was he did posses large amounts of cunning, so much cunning in fact, he boasted to himself, that nobody could ever fool him. Because he was far to cunningly clever by half. He felt by half because a whole would be far to conceited. He did after all have important humility standards that he lived by.

Anyway the ruler looked across the vast waters surrounding his island and noticed the vast wealth of the other islands around him. These other islands had immense wealth. Not mineral wealth in the ground like his own island because their islands did not sit amongst the vastly rich mineral geological veins, like his land. These other islands had every single other thing paper money and zeros on a screen could buy- immeasurable paper wealth, vast riches that only a fantastically vain ruler could use to elevate his immense vanity, beyond any planets simple measure. What they really touted above all the wealth, was a ticker tape parade, where an approved incredible ruler would ride down the middle of each adjoining islands main capitol street. While everyone clapped and fawned and praised him and threw little bits of paper from very high buildings down on the passing waving entourage. 

For such an extremely vain cunning ruler, this was incredibly the most desirable thing to ever be imagined and have happen. 

His desire for these festivities he beheld on the islands adjoining, became a very deep obsession. To obtain this ticker tape fame and wealth from these other rich islands, the ruler would even sell off the birth rights of his future grandchildren for a bowl of blood red earth soup. All his kingdom had, to his knowledge was roughed out minerals, deep in the ground, gold , diamonds and rubies and valuable items, lying on the surface of the ground and his island had rich arable soil for farming. Oh and it was situated in an incredible rain fall area. His single island could feed the entire chain of other islands many times over. If it was farmed correctly, but that was a conceited thought he felt for later. What the ruler also had, was vast man power, enough man power to completely dominate the unknown planet of islands far, far away. 

So the ruler decided to see how he could extract some of this incredible wealth from the united islands around him. So he approached the very secret, Planets Wealth Control Board. (PWCB) a very secretive board of wealthy non existent bankers. Who where the sons of the sons of the men who first secretly met many hundreds of years previously to create perceived wealth from nothing. They created a wealth platform linked to art, paper money, a fort of hinted gold and to bits of coin and zeros on computer screens. They carefully listened to the cunning rulers plea - they looked at what the cunning ruler was willing to put on the table. They secretly deliberated, whispering and snootily sneering over coffee passed through a cat. 

They sat in their secretly held meetings and held a few public conferences. They then thought it best to hold another important trade meeting, in a meeting hall on an island on the other side of the cunning rulers land. They even stopped over at the dead of night, to taste the soil with pinched lips and noses to the sky. The cunning ruler was getting very anxious and his fat fingers and bulging eyes along with 4 fat rolls of bulging skin at the back of his neck. Quivered in complete expectation of the vast wealth and the all important ticker tape parades, he now could very much see himself participating in. 

In his vision, he was dressed in a bright colorful suit on the back of a limo, driving down a famous neighboring island street, while everyone waved and nodded their heads and clapped, while small bits of shiny paper fell all around him. He was smiling and waving and he was so very, very happy. The absolute complete respect of all the faces. This idea showed him he was very important. It was all so palpable in his vision of the future. 

Eventually the PWCB got back to him - they said the taste of his soil and what he offered was not worth giving him the vast wealth they had and the very important ticker tape parade was immediately cancelled - his request was DENIED!!!

This infuriated the ruler that his eyes bulged and he immediately ate 21 plates of fatty red bloody soup, so that he developed a 5th fat role on the back of his neck. This 5th roll popped out above the other 4 rolls , on the part of the head where there is not even any lose skin. He was so very proud of this 5th role of head fat and he learnt to look at himself in the mirror, so he could see roll number 5. He very proudly watched how the 5th fat roll glistened in the light of the far off planets sun. He rubbed goat fat on the new roll.

He went back to the very secret PWCB and said,  my island has vast manpower, that I can give you. The PWCB said they will consider the new terms, but the manpower must be pushed from behind, not pulled from the front. So the ruler set about creating ungovernable areas of his island, where he didn't like the people anyway, areas which where once peaceful but suddenly over night became war torn and lawless. This started the displacement pushing of the manpower across the vast waters and the PWCB where now most happy. A manipulated cheap slave labor force to do the unimportant jobs on their important island.

Yes, because vastly wealthy islands could not be concerned about the business of mundane manual work. Vastly wealthy islands sought to rather busy themselves with the very important things in life. Important things like watching TV and making sure it was all based on real life. Everyone watched reality TV because it was more real than the crappy lives they led.

So the PWCB had additional secret meetings and a few seminars and one or 2 important emerging island embargoes. This time they invited the cunning ruler (CR) to sit outside the meeting hall, so they could deliberate some more. He was very chuffed and made sure he sat in the sun directly opposite the mirror and closest to the big door so his magnificence would not be missed or lost when they exited.

But nobody entered or left, accept a very small man came out of a very small secret side door of the meeting hall and beckoned the ruler around the corner. He whispered in hushed tones that they had agreed in secret that he could have his vast wealth of money and ticker tape parades. The little unassuming man asked the ruler if he had a computer linked to a bank account. The ruler did indeed have such a thing. The little man said the ruler must give him the number to his personal bank account. Which of course the cunning ruler immediately did. The little man further said the PWCB had no need for the money to be paid back in the same given cash transfer method in paper money and computer screen one and zeros. However the PWCB would only accept return payment in the very filthy dirty minerals that lay deep under the soil of the rulers island. The cunning ruler immediately agreed, all the while rubbing his fat fingered hands together and looking at himself in the reflection of the window. He noticed a rising bulging 6th fat roll on his neck in the reflection. Oh how proud he was of his amazing cunning ability and the beauty of his swelling large face. And all this for dirt and cheap labor, how foolish are these wealthy countries.

Oh yes, how cunning he was - to have got all this paper wealth and zeros on a computer screen for just stinky dirt - he signed all the documents and then asked when he could have his ticker tape parade? The little mans nose twitched and crinkled rodent like as he transferred the vast wealth into the computer account of the cunning ruler. The zeros where so many the first computer couldn't handle all the zeros and they had to get a million other computers to showcase all the remaining zeros.

The very cunning ruler went home with his vast wealth on his many new computers, now guarded heavily by his newly acquired PWCB police force. They started the digging process immediately on the cunning rulers island and made sure those who remained on the island , who hadn't yet swum over the sea, worked very hard for free by digging up all the minerals they could. The PWCB secretly over saw the entire operation and as the holes got deeper, nobody planted crops in the very rich soil, nobody farmed the rich island lands. Everybody just now dug holes and handed over minerals. If anyone complained, they where put under the soil that they had just been digging up. More and more people risked swimming over to all the other islands around. Risked sharks, risked trafficker's, risked death  to get away from the carefully crafted greed machine plundering the very depths of the cunning rulers island earth. 

The other islands said shame what a pitiful bunch are those from that poor island, the PWCB denied knowing who was responsible for digging up all the soil. Everyone just said shame, what a very sad potential island of poor people wanting jobs.  The cunning ruler got so fat his thirteenth fat roll burst on his head and he died of septicemia. The digging of the soil was given over to generation after generation, nobody even knew where the computers where. The computers with all the zeros on them. However what was visible was the holes that got much deeper, the man power fled in vast numbers and the islands around got upset because they where now becoming very crowded with people from the mineral rich island. 

Everyone on all the other islands just wanted the wealth of the paper money and all the zeros on the computer screens. Everyone it seemed wanted the ticker tape parade and the fame to be on real TV for 5 minutes. Biting, scratching and slurping fifteen minutes of fame, while walking around with beautiful bodies surgically enhanced to showcase the light of a thousand cameras. A type of divinewood smiles that didn't ever change, even when the fame hungry participants started to really cry for real. 

So the newly secretly elected PWCB built an invisible island far away from the rest of the other islands. They then secretly released a viscous virus on all the other islands. One that would render a new world order and start a ground zero Adam and Eve scenario. With just selected genetics going forward because vast wealth paves the way for vast scientific advances. Carefully cherry picking the best brains, with the best physical attributes. The strange reality is that most of the PWCB where all incredibly ugly inside and out and only had cunning as an attribute. So good luck to that genetic strain of pure exclusive genetic raw material empire land builders. Those who build empires off the terrible suffering of others. 

Very fortunately for you , this is all just a completely mythical story on a planet very far, far away.

Very fortunately the telescope your currently looking through, from the vantage point of your back garden and the scales fused on your eyes,  tell you this story is completely impossible to ever be true.

If your very small telescope could currently register that this story could possibly be much closer to home than one thinks. We all would be in a great deal of trouble, would you not think? 

Well not if your one of the few PWCB members secretly meeting in a trades embargo on a secretly developed island, with a very secret side door and a tiny little rodent like man to negotiate between the very greedy and the extremely cunning.

Im so very glad i dont live on that made up planet. 

Wild built environment habitats

Human sprawl tar concrete encrusted architectural scape is now spreading like prolific malignant cancer across the earth. Gobbling up lush forests and laying waste to age old eco systems. Our architectural landscapes wrap the earth and force the beautiful wild into limited islands before obliterating these eco systems completely.

Im not here to glue myself to the very highways i use to drive. Or spray paint red on the very cars i use. Im as much of the problem as big corporate. I live my little life with all the conveniences of a wrap the earth fanatic, whilst obliterating the wild. The very thought of a pride of lions lolling about in my back garden leaves me cold.

However this nagging thought of letting the wild be 80% of earths coverage. Whilst us humans learn to occupy 20%. This habitable living concept keeps persisting. 

That induction speech from Pandora now resonates to my idea. "We not in Kansas anymore people ....... " 

Wild scape should be first and our architectural built environment a distant second. If we can create our lived in architecture between natures wild spaces, to my mind we will have achieved an equilibrium. Islands of architectural human habitat between the vast ocean of wild space. Our buildings could snake between herds of wildebeest and savannas. We could embrace the wild earth by creating 80% coverage raw eco friendly spaces that allow the wild to florish. 

As we now fanatically try head to red Mars to tame another planet, we have not even 1% gained the mastery of our blue jewel. The virus of man is a mindset and 99% of people are deeply infected. I write this to the 1%. Wild space can be the future of architectural urban developement. Creating human living spaces between herds of animal species could be key to our survival. Creating architectural environments that survive between the wild savannas.

A human fort frontier city solution within mostly wild spaces. 

This current live in our own filth and decay litter mongering urban dweller mindset can still simply continue. They can live in designated areas of there own choosing. Perhaps join the exit to mars. Simply to fervently tar encrust the red planet.

Life

Screaming wild eyes fierce with intensity.

Seeing gaping mouth full of verocity.

Starved broken heart full of insecure anxiety.

Mind drenched in a deep cloak of self pity.

Peacable hands trying to fill with incredible virtuosity.

Consciousness always striving for deep generosity.

Perpetuating this human cycle now gathering velocity.

All the above is a life saturated with immense curiosity. 

Scribes

Two scribes on the cave wall,

One yesterday, one long before.

Letters the latter, graphics the last.

Both represent a time to future from the past.

Anonymous scribe the picture the thread,

Letters a suicide the name not clearly read.

Intentions and motives long now lost.

As we try to translate the messages embossed.

The reach through time past, present, future.

Of hand print impressions and lettered features.

Both scribes with much that was left unsaid.

Are not present now as both scribes are dead.

A third scribe looks to the future from present reach.

A message thats bold impression letters now to beseech.

As artists we are simply just present day scribes.

Impressions on cave walls of our simple mundane lives. 

Grebnezium a futuristic African city.

Grebnezium a city inspired by design collective ideas.

The basic concept behind the Yip Trip story series is to inspire creativity in young minds. To establish a link between artistic creativity, design, learning new futuristic concept ideas and creating new solutions through a shared intellectual creative dialogue process. 

Simply put, beyond the mumbo jumbo, The idea we can learn from each other no matter what our back grounds are. 

In this current world, suspicious of its own shadow. Seeing value in others ideas and experience is key to future developement. Us old idiots have become more complicated in how we interact. So its up to the next generation to learn and practice tolerance and full acceptance of others. 

Each new migrant character that arrives in Grebnezium adds immense value to the isolated community. Slowly the little town improves through this intellectual shared creative design process. A global village design concept  mindset. 

Yip Trip is able to find design value in what the new migrant visitors are able to show him and the community. This allows creative design ideas to flow freely. And Through this shared design process the little town of Grebnezium is vastly improved. 

All stories have been carefully worked up and involve abit of multi disciplinary creative thinking from engineering, art, design; socio economic concepts and rough prototype developement. 

As per most creative ventures in life these little tales involve much time. So when this valuable resource is available a new story is manufactured. 

As one gets older one realises how best to focus ones creative energy. Working on stories that help others to see the value in shared creative ideas to improve communities is rewarding. Allows the arts, engineering and socio economic dynamics to all work together to improve all our homes, streets, villages, communities, towns cities and ultimately the bigger human dynamic living picture.

In some it appears being tolerant is a taught learned value. The ability to see value in people from different backgrounds is unlearned and needs to be rekindled through showing merit.

Critical design mind thinking shared across cultural divides is a strength. Shared creative  skill is best taught when one has a tolerant creative outlook. To prevent the same limited mindset issues befalling the next generation. Stories involving communities working together developing through shared ideas is important for young minds. 

Thats Yip Trip, a little boy open minded to creative design ideas from sources outside of his community. 

Stagnant waters born of downhill greed.

Most humans now living and who have died act and acted just like water running easily downhill. We all simply take the path of least resistance, until we hit an uphill challenge that stops us dead in our tracks. Uphills or challenge blockages cause us to stagnate in a quagmire of our own putridity. We hope the collective dam up will try with brute force in unison to overcome the challenge of a blockage. The reality is a new easy path around is now sought and found. Often we go in a completely different direction. Water downhill is always probing the easy way around new challenges. We all know very well some challenges have no easy way around. Only a hard cold consequence of our limited in the moment actions. Looking for direction with knowledge after working around challenges leads to wisdom.  Wisdom is mostly hindsight, knowledge. It is the thousands of facts leading to an end result. We cant see through to the wisdom of an issue until all the knowledge facts have been put in place and show us the results of our easy route water downhill actions.

This build up of collective knowledge, accumulated by the lazy easy flow route water types through generations. Doesnt always lead to the desired destination. Easy flow water greedy drowners who have not stopped to ever analyse the very big infront of them uphill blockage picture. A blockage challenge mostly created by the build up of other easy flow decision makers.

Sadly and its in fact true most humans are across the board lazy, greedy and reactive to the water downhill path finding technique. There are a few humans that are not wired this way. However those very few are the rare diamonds, the outliers, the ones setting the real benchmark for others in the future. They are very few and very far between in the collective liquid morass of humanities easy flood water route downhill collective. 

For the most part we all fit this model of the human collective easiest route downhill water trait. A type of easy communistic group think approach, lazy minded water downhill operatives rely on other mostly less competent path finders to lead in finding the easiest route downhill. All fanatically wanting maximum benefit with absolutely minimum input. 

its not more obvious than in the hippo story. The story told to the incredible writer TV Bulpin by a very wise old man many years ago. its a fact that the highways and byways of Africa are filled to the brim with age old collective knowledge and deep wisdom. One has to have one ear to the ground one to the heavens, your feet firmly planted in the rich soil and hands that continually reach for the stars to benefit from this collective over time wisdom. 

The human diamonds are generally those who have lived through real life experience. Who can now articulate the lesson clearly for like minded humans. Who are not wired like the fat fingered greedy lazy collective water downhill group thinkers.

The hippo story narrated by this wise old man to this famous writer is perhaps now well known. i am certainly not wise. I am like most humans, an easy route downhill water operative. However as age and reality converge with hindsight i am in a small way understanding lifes putridity muddles. Perhaps me retelling it wont do it justice. Perhaps the lesson will still be lost. However our current outcomes of reality is in itself justice enough for our short sightedness and lazy approach. 

Drought, lack of rain, burst dams and complete mayhem is the legacy of the easy route downhill human. Our collective blocked challenge putridity dam. In reality leads to total destruction of all eco systems. The greedy fat fingered are always allowed to wantingly act with blood slaughtering impunity. As the rest of us easy downhill water minds watch with incredulous non committal disgust. 

The condensed version of the hippo story told by the wise man to the writer is as such. (Google it for full version. If you are like me, water downhill, read on for the synaptic version) 

The hippo story goes, in central Africa somewhere southish, many years ago in an area now completely drought striken, with no water, there once was a huge lake In an area with very limited rainfall. This vast lake provided beautiful water to a parched land with very rich soil. Further north of this dam was a morass of reads and swamps inhabited by many hippo. Explorers who took the time to document there findings, wrote of this now non existant lake, so it did exist. However now its completely evaporated with little hint it was ever present.  

The story goes that to tame a land is to render it useless to all. So the Locals who lived north of the lake where getting harrased by many hippo. These huge herbivores that kill the most humans in Africa. These wise custonians of the wetlands, whos eyes peak above the water line. Watching this soft but squishy naked ape who has mastered the art of destructive tool making. The tools we design well and most effectively are the ruinous type. Those tools that seek to destroy life rather than enhance it. So it was with this story. The inhabitants got sick of beating drums all night keeping the hippos away. They got sick of living next to the challenge of the ever watchful hippos. So they traded all there material things and all the animal wealth pelts and furs in there area for powerful guns to slaughter the hippos. These weapons of mass destruction where to get rid of the threat of the water downhill hippos. The greedy humans that sold the guns came and took all the furs and pelts by the wagon load from the area. The easy slaughter with guns of many hippos began. Every easy water downhill pathfinder was now licking lips happy. Over time the greed and bloodlust mixed into accummulative hindsight knowledge but sadly has never distilled into much needed wisdom. Why can one say this? Because we are a cut, paste history repeat animal. Only we grow progressively worse in our total annihilation of eco systems with each succeeding generation.  

The rains far up north came as they do every year. But with no herbivore hippo to create easy water pathways through the reeds. The water built up behind the reeds like a putrid stagnant morass blockage. The intricate pathways through the morass was now completely blocked. With no hippos to create the flow. Water did what water does. It finds a new easier pathway downhill. The dam that relied on the rains far up north dried up, the life giving rain water found a quicker route to the sea and life in that once abundantly rich area ceased to exist. It was now a dry hot dust bowl. Those living around the abundantly rich life lake saw clumps of reeds wash down at first, then nothing, the rain water tap had been turned completely off.

The greedy fat fingered fur wagoneers moved off to a new slaughtering ground. The short sighted locals who sold there birthright for red hippo stew left with more issues than answers. Heads hung low finding a new area with life giving water. Often the solution offered by greedy men is the destruction of a beautiful way of life. Quick easy fix mongers full of confidence but absolutely no wisdom whatsoever. 

For those willing to listen we are left a now long forgotten story for a lesson for those sick of being an easy downhill water direction decision maker. A long forgotten story playing out every day in all parts of the world right now. We have still not learned from these vital ancient lessons.

Only when our collective destructive nature is quelled and those amongst us who are greedy and short sighted become wise, die or change their selfish perspective. Will we start to put back into our precious eco systems more than we currently taking out. The fine balance of nature is sadly destroyed by the intervention of the fat finger greedy merchants of selfish desire. 

Beware, beware of  snake oil salesman and the slaughter everything gun running peddlers so very abundant today. These greedy short sighted easy water path downhill operatives are a massive danger to those who are truelly wise.

We need wild, wild spaces, mankinds cities need to be defined within the wild spaces. We tame lands and we destroy continents. We really act and are a virus some of us more so than others.