shaman like all now ancient desperations is overused and underdone like the teeming western pilgrims to varanasi whatever their motivations in search of the absences in the heart of the west finding only presences shaman is varanasi ayahuasca maybe love or sex even money in its manifold and crushing vulgarity its claims to all & nothing flash in a stolen pan community as thief usurper doubleagent or triple more time twisted and fried but what is shaman? some jungle aesthetic? an unrecoverable character on natures barely conscious stage flesh of dream and now only whether in loreto or manhattan some sham a 350night excursion into the lands broken & forever scaled a 4000 selfie trip to a polluted & honking ganesha chant the plants sell the love and what is shaman in the age of digital reproduction with that sexy & romantic martyr che titting it up across perky planets? are we all shamans but bad ones in our microscopic specializations our language of whatever rabbit hole we might find ourselves in or are those who take the nym whether indigenous or invasive entitled to some claim the rest of us arent credentials not that the recognized presence of some shaman certification body or bodies different competing schools and dogmas like those pesky splintering protestants would solve any of the problems we find tucked away in the dusty boxes in the skeletal garrets of the dilapidating mansions of legitimization it might even increase then as we could from various angles and arcs say such has done to doctors judges teachers philosophers poets priests generals therapists necessary you say for our world to function according to code absolutely but the code is aborted and our world antifunctional and necessity a monster as mixter weil cogently articulates we have something else to say unless shaman takes the sham in man and puts it back unless it fulfill and destroy credentials unless it inhabit the jungle desert forest ocean mountain and loves these more than human society unless it denies shaman as occupation name tradition ie unless it go on the path before the concept of shaman was born before shaman was born unless it confuse in and out while living out of society and in the path so that society is more path than society unless in our fragmentations it lives on the outside and mumbles and every now and then a word seeps out unless too restrictive? there is nothing here we say nothing here but the chattering of long nights and their infinite children of gas enter my difficult one into the voices who doubt time and money who stake their dreamthreads to countless poles so the shaman or our shaman takes its place in noplace for there is no place for it left in this world it pitches itself in noplace to listen to dark voices not to return to any form of society political or regulatory structure ceremony or love not to to it follows a tradition of outsideinside novoicevoice noplaceplace nonamename notimetime we also sometimes call our shaman this noshaman a polypolar for it reaches noplace through a ground or grounds of not just n&s e or w but every latlong voice of muskrat muskeg nutmeg megafauna cake and cow and plopplop car and rust and musth and a tuktuks hello dawn and word and distant cave and here
shaman lives in hallucinogens of falling contradiction of hunger and satiation not oppositive but faces of water mirrors of fog everythings a drug loss betrayal hunger nightmare vision colour walking muddledness tedium and drugs just a portal to more portality
shaman lives in simulations of apocalypse to compost apocalypse it lives in possibility to avoid the schizophrenias of actuality lives in schizophrenias to unmask the myriad alls it lives in death to experience lifes manifestations as they might exist in living laboratories of soil and wind shaman lives in absence to facilitate a present seeking
shamans forage and seek to forage according to the data of rhythms of locusts and beancurd of cocktails that rise like gasoline their foraging for rupees among the banking machine forests of varanasi would be inadequate but for the lightless soil of the shamans roots a lightlessness that would be sibling to imagination an imagination capable of creating foraging a foraging for nuts apples seeds roots gometa pata that we in our machines have been severed from and shaman not as even retreat position guru is a way to not unite heal integrate but desever and this desevering new? near? our foraging for rupees a foraging for refuse the discards and deaths anonymities interior voices the silenced the majority that isnt voiced in the green collapse
so shaman looks for excluded voices the criticisms withheld from any gang tribe family institution self identity to keep it together and does not negate the affirmations of the tribe but sees these as nothing stranger than the exclusions and negations you say but all these weights and counterweights on the souls unbalanced scales!? it means you dont you cant! get anything done you have no action wills annihilated by an excess of will or wills if you have any action its hamletian action action bottled up in mind only to explode but we say ah youve not seen the ham in sham the hamlet in shamlet which leads so truthfully to the am in ham i am the am and ham and sham i am the ion in action the ill in will there is you may have heard a no action far older than any shamlet one before i or am or man for this the shaman forages like the scavangers in bms epilogue those wraiths of lost fire born into false forges and cold currencies? do we seek then war that god? no war is in us and us shaman rests in the impossible cacophony of voices and for this rest it lives in the outside of the in an inside of outs do not rebuke the little children by the ganga who set toll booths according to their sad mentors instead dust the dust worn negation of a young yesterday draw with the dust of yourself shapes inexplicable and full of eyes
is all this too declarative? yes
are all these words misguided? yes
is there any i resembling anything were talking about? no
are happiness and love aspects of this? as much as indifference and despair
do we know what were talking about or thinking? no maybe yes no
are words unpolished mirrors?
is our gaze a stumbling in dusk?
are we the unanswerability of ourselves?
are oracles the spaces between stars?
are forms the mathematics of an undreamt geometry?
is this a leaf are we stones waiting to be sand?
