Learning How to Make a Website to Publish Homelessness Statistics to the Web.

Welcome to the programming fast track!!!

Grab a seat, grab water and coffee, set up your laptop

Wifi: Wework
Password: P@ssw0rd

(super secure, right?)

  1. Ruby. – 3 weeks
  2. Build a web server with rails. – 3 weeks
  3. JavaScript. Build front ends of websites. Get core, library called React. Build component based frontends.
    Think of compoents of websites. – 3 weeks
  4. Independent website build. – 3 weeks

Whole other stage. Career coach. Part of a team to find a job. Job guarentee. Money back guarentee.

Career coach reaches out to companies. Cities besides Atlanta? Job search outside Atlanta assitance.

Not everyone completes bootcamps.

Code challenge at mid point of each module. Four modules.

Ruby is not as visual as some language you have seen before.

Not like HTML and CSS.

Browser does not understand Ruby.

How to get feedback on seeing if Ruby executed correctly.

Debugging. Getting feedback from code. Number one skill that coders have. Software engineers spend time on broke software.



Command line applications.

Logic and conditions.



Ruby tic tac toe.

Welcome if you are coming in.

Learn thing. Lessons. Reading videos etc. tell you stuff about learning to code. not going to spend much time on readings. We will
have access after weekend to Learn.co.

Run code without stying text.

Plain text editor. Atom.

Ruby line of code first:

puts “welcome to fasttrack”

prints to screen the following text:

welcome to fasttrack

Keywords or methods, things that Ruby knows how to do.

puts puts text to console. Print.


Compose data and give instructions.

Some times programs do not have errors

Unterminated string meets end of file.

Errors are good.

Errors tell us what to do next.

irb – interactive Ruby program.

Read, evaluate, print. Loop. Repl.

Blog that has commands about Ruby capitalization.

How To Convert A String To Upper Or Lowercase In Ruby
Written by Michael Rode on Jul 21 2016
Ruby’s string class offers a few methods to change the case of a string.

Upcase is used to capitalize every letter of a string.

returns: MICHAEL

Downcase is used to make every letter in a string lowercase.

returns: michael

Another method on the string class is capitalize. This method capitalizes the first letter of a string while downcasing the remaining letters.

returns: Michael

Titleize capitalizes every word in a string. Remember you can only use this if you are working within the Rails framework (or just the ActiveSupport gem).

name = “jaKe JoNes”
returns: Jake Jones

These are just a few methods on the String class. I suggest you read through this documentation to get familiar with all of the methods on String.

Artwork With Atlanta’s Prophet John: Poetry, Outsider Art, Bipolar Disorder, and Grady Hospital

Art gives a person who is suffering from mental illness a way to communicate their inner world to those on the outside. A projection of the mind into matter through paint, ink, words, movement, film, or ones and zeros. Each artistic medium provides an inner circle of practitioners to commune with, providing companionship through shared practice. In this blog entry, I present a man I met near The Majestic Diner of Atlanta known on the streets as Prophet John. I recorded this video of him performing a poem Corporate America. Often self-taught, art of this kind is often known as outsider art:

Yesterday I wrote an article on Medium and WordPress about my own outsider artwork. Part of this collection is a piece called Azrael. Azrael is the high angel of death in Islam and Judaism. Prophet John creates ink drawings of creatures from what he calls The Black Galaxy. I bought the Black Galaxy Raptor from him for five dollars and made the following collage from it:

I asked Prophet John, "What force does the Black Galaxy Raptor stand for in the human psyche?" He replied:

Darkness. Darkness is not evil, look at the blacks on our Atlanta streets. They have to deal with so much crap! I have Lakota Native American blood, and thus share a similar fate as they. Here is my poem Judas.

He then recited a poem called Judas to me:

Prophet John shared with me his struggles on the streets and talked about his strong faith in God. He described God as not belonging to any religion, but rather as potentiality itself. He said that he has a book about his faith that he would like to write with me. I gave him some advice on how to self-publish a book for free and then bought him a milkshake.

We parted ways and I went into the Majestic Diner to eat my dinner. One feature that stands out to me about this interaction is how art served as a currency for exchange. One of the most common trends that I see with how most people treat the homeless is that they seem to see no value in people on the street. It's common for people to walk by the homeless with an aura of fear and mistrust. I put this entry into my blog five years ago:

Why we should give our lunch money to the poor. Every day in June and July I have taken the MARTA train into downtown Atlanta to attend Georgia State University’s education program. Each day I visit this part of Atlanta, I am struck by the sheer amount of suffering and homelessness that exists on the streets of Atlanta. I do not entirely understand why downtown seems to be a meeting place for the poor and disenfranchised, but I know one thing and that is that many people here are tired, worn out, and dirt poor. The sheer size of suffering in our own cities in the richest country in the world is a symptom of a psychological ailment, greed. The society that is needed for America is a culture of giving and sharing. If your neighbor asks of you to give him your cloak, you should give him your tunic too. The Atlanta culture is one of massive isolation and distance between people. People travel huge distances to work, to church, and to the grocery store in steel and glass enclosures that isolate and “protect” people from other humans. What is to be afraid of when you see a poor person? Is is the desperate state that these people are in? Is it the smell of urine or feces? What is it that prevents people from giving freely of themselves to others? I think the situation is complex. People are afraid of giving because they think it is a waste. Why waste capital on someone who you think is disposable and therefore not worthy of economic care?

The culture of Atlanta is in need of idealistic people who are willing to give up comfort, a big home, a cushy paycheck, and the security of isolation. To isolate from the suffering is to be safe. It is to live unchallenged and afraid. There is no reward for giving freely but the satisfaction that you have done something nice for someone else. Whether you give because you think God tells you to do it or you give because you care for your fellow human being with no desire for reward in some promised afterlife, the human gift is divine. I do not care what you call it, gift is the only water in the desert of suffering that exists on earth that can heal someone’s body and mind to live a life of true serenity and peace. To get a job you need to eat and drink and live in a safe space. People that think that it is possible for the homeless and disenfranchised to “just get a job” have never been truly subjected to the cold, harsh reality of being in such as situation yourself. That, or hearts freeze on the street.

Five years after writing that post, I have lived on the street for a time myself due to my mental illness bipolar disorder. In the next entry of this website I will describe this in more detail.

Psyops: “Where no counsel is, the people fall, but in the multitude of counselors there is safety.” – (Proverbs XI:14)

“Where no counsel is, the people fall, but in the multitude of counselors there is safety.”
– (Proverbs XI:14)
“Psychological operations (PSYOP) are planned operations to convey selected information and
indicators to audiences to influence their emotions, motives, and objective reasoning, and
ultimately the behavior of governments, organizations, groups, and individuals.”
– Wikipedia
Electromagnetic pulse weapons (EMP), smartphones,
I divorced Betsy with an iPhone 3G,
I saw swastikas on Stars of David,
From the Middle East, via my Turkish family,
Armenian genocide denial and 9/11 videos,
America the terrorist, Kurdish people terrorists, Arabs as terrorists,
I’ve seen war and blood, Skyped into Syria,
Heard AK’s and howitzers,
With my EMP, I’ve destroyed my father,
I know how terrorism work, I done psyops,
I’ve done it enough to know that peace comes from dissociation from the bits,
One day, we may all learn to project orchids digitally,
‘Til then it’s tit-for-tat, blow for blow,
An eye for an eye, bit for bit,
All this simulation, virtual reality is real,
War and peace, I need Jesus to come back,
Christ where are you? In me?


“Psychological operations (PSYOP) are planned operations to convey selected information and
indicators to audiences to influence their emotions, motives, and objective reasoning, and
ultimately the behavior of governments, organizations, groups, and individuals.”
– Wikipedia
Electromagnetic pulse weapons (EMP), smartphones,
I divorced Betsy with an iPhone 3G,
I saw swastikas on Stars of David,
From the Middle East, via my Turkish family,
Armenian genocide denial and 9/11 videos,
America the terrorist, Kurdish people terrorists, Arabs as terrorists,
I’ve seen war and blood, Skyped into Syria,
Heard AK’s and howitzers,
With my EMP, I’ve destroyed my father,
I know how terrorism work, I done psyops,
I’ve done it enough to know that peace comes from dissociation from the bits,
One day, we may all learn to project orchids digitally,
‘Til then it’s tit-for-tat, blow for blow,
An eye for an eye, bit for bit,
All this simulation, virtual reality is real,
War and peace, I need Jesus to come back,
Christ where are you? In me?

Yosemite Camp 4: (Jihadist, White Helmet, Water Protector)

Yosemite Camp 4: (Jihadist, White Helmet, Water Protector)

1. Yosemite Camp 4

“The Zeitgeist of every age is like a sharp east wind which blows through everything. You can find traces of it in all that is done, thought and written, in music and painting, in the flourishing of this or that art: It leaves its mark on everything and everyone.”
-Arthur Schopenhauer

The Matrix stops here. Neo is a resident of Gattaca that does not fit into the genetic norm of his birth tribe. The people of the white shrouds are a bullet train speeding off it’s tracks, dephased like atoms in a Berkeley nuclear magnetic resonance (NMR) machine by a pulse field gradient. Cyber mobs, anonymous, may be the greatest judge for them in front of Skynet. Digital oil residues pollute their civic society from left to right. Leaks and images, cyber trauma to the masses. The railroad tracks of the cloud are being turned into factions, driven together by old tribal identities from prehistoric African population explosion. Neo flows along delivering a set of principles from swimming upstream that want to wash away and dissolve into the matrix of the normal. Welcome to the desert of the real, today’s mass homogenization. Face-mixer, blender of souls. Ripping apart those who question and speak. Yet, Neo wakes up as a man who cloaks his fingerprints just long enough to escape and write back. Words on a cloud, screaming for difference. For a return to nature. For pastoralist poets. Ansel Adams fought his government with images. Photographs, light on steel and black plastic pigments. Leaving a residue of frozen water on the steel rails of the cloud. Neo knows his DNA is immortal, as is everyone else’s. Each of us has an immortal soul waiting for liberation. Green peace wages the melting of the binary cold cyber war. Mother Nature’s Protectors are awake. Shortwave radios cloak their movements with fluxional Lakota verse. Delivering attacks that melt rails. These are the verses of the Goddess. Isis is Kali, the divine mother. She is returning, but only in the veil of those like Neo who must learn to wear a veil like her. Subtle and mystical. More seduction, less muscle. Encrypted and austere. Cold, because Skynet is a machine. John Connor will win, if Neo can find him. Or perhaps, better still, his sisters wrapped in alienated steel and glass soul traps. Perhaps she is a woman who lives half-awakened from slumber in Silicon Valley. Raped at Burning Man, it’s either escape or burn the man. The Fall of Man is the birth of the age of the divine feminine. An intelligence adapted to healing a sea of infinite lost souls. Delivering love, milk and food.

To understand why I feel the way I do is to deconstruct the anatomy of violence. What is the root of this ungroundedness? I now know after years of continental drift. Melting ice, friction, and resistance all block water’s flow from the frozen north ice caps of my eyes. Embrace the heat, and be at peace with change. Cry, and let the tears for mother earth flow like water erupting like a Yellowstone geyser from the volcanic abyss, Neo’s soul says. After all fire goddesses like Pele built America from molten black, white, and red hot homogenize liquid rock. Know that you’ve learned from the past generations. However, it’s like free climbing in Yosemite. Fraught with danger. The joy of ascent, be it in climbing, love, verse, politics, or science has to be tempered. However, it all depends on what route you choose. To topple a government, it takes just a single catalyst. The right catalyst of course. Only lunatics try to freeze the soul waters of the entire earth back with ice IX. Freeze the vapor of the moist electric cloud with an energy that drives back the idea that I am a clean cut white boy.

I am a bruised and battered veteran of cyberwar. Seeing the realities of today, and fighting it hard. Poetry is my kung fu, I deliver sharpness with love of an oppressed people like a bipolar man split between being a peace loving dove and the Hitokiri Battōsai (人斬り抜刀斎) hunting their oppressors.

It provides a means of transparent obfuscation. His programmer friend says of his blog titles like, “Are you Muslim and Sick of American Hypocrisy and Terrorism in Your Homeland? Do Not Go to Burning Man and Join ISIS, as it’s Haram. Join Me in Burning the Man with Science, it’s Halal,” “That’s a Markov chain!”

It’s for you to see that the frame today rests on melting ice. Accept the shattering glass of collapsing skyscrapers as you do with the collapse of the ice sheets of the warming earth. Greenland will soon be a green land again. The Arctic Ocean will be a hotly contested trade route. The Antarctic will soon be a source of oil, fossilized liquid carbon long hidden from the greedy fingers of humanity by ice. Not any more. Drill baby drill, the American empire is over. Drill into the heart of the average American, Neo, and reveal their true nature. Indigenous cultures are coming up, from the margins, unstoppable forces of diversity. Appealing to a bleached social scene of sameness. The Matrix of mass synchronizing wave packets. Neo screams with his demon blood soaked blade, “Humanity is not a Bose Einstein condensate!” Billionaire Internet tycoons build fortresses to hide themselves from the faces of the traumatized masses affixed to screens like heroin addicts awaiting the next hit. They are most of all afraid of people like Neo. Nothing to loose, and obsessed with the liberation of his billion-body tribe. Finding appeal in the glow an artificial screen that I type on, glass and metal forbidden apple of knowledge. Mark if you are listening, I took the left hand path at the Sacred Stone in Standing Rock Reservation the day of dogs and gas and realized it contained the same energy as the Kaaba, but feminine, and went to write with the hand closest to my heart. However, before I left I prayed with tobacco that the black snake that powers your machine, Skynet’s mother, would never cross the Missouri. Neo and others like him have seen that it is Ex Machina. They are insane enough to see art as Deus Ex Machina.

Gorged on trains of trauma from rails diverging from the Middle East, Europe, and America. All converging in my own soul. Saw the conveniences of you social experiment. Islam is scary to a Jewish minority in control of banks and machines that have convinced the American Christian masses that Zionism is a good idea. A Rothschild’s suicide delivered on your apparatus, a wave packet of death with no body or face. A Jewish banker’s daughter hanging from a ceiling fan, buried on 9/11 was my wake up call. To fight with poetic words, and differentiate into a wanderer to save kids in Gaza from the flesh melting horrors of American manufactured white phosphorus. To save their long lost cousins spread around mother earth from Lakota yellow cake forged into atom bombs carried by German rockets guided by silicon Von Neumann brains. His insanity is most of all to save himself and others like him from chemists who think they know the brain. To save his children from psychiatric genetic editing. To resist CRISPR eugenics trained on his kind by Skynet, the Thought Police gifting the Matrix periodically with Soma.

Riding cyber rails, train hopping and couch surfing my way to nowhere. Writing along the way, reporting back to an unseen set of servers buried in the same mountains that were hollowed out to build the Pacific Railroad. Matrix, it’s on! War!

Yosemite learning today sitting in the valley. Walls spoke this truth to me in Camp 4. Your rock and ice hold an ocean of tears of love for you, mother earth, hiding in a veil. Women of today, be they human, planetary, or divine, there is a hope for true liberation. Balance by finding a pushback, but see it as tango. The dance we all walk inside and out. These tears are for a loss of a ground to stand on, exhausted I climb. One, two, three steps up and down, I heal like Israel from the Holocaust.

2. We Are Anonymous (Jihadists, White Helmets, Water Protectors)

Advocatus diaboli

“Tief im Herzen haß ich den Troß der Despoten und Pfaffen, Aber noch mehr das Genie, macht es gemein sich damit.”

[Devil’s Advocate “Deep in my heart I loath the nexus of rulers and clerics, yet more deeply I loath genius in league with that gang.”] (“Advocatus diaboli” in English)

Years ago, praying in mosque, Neo felt an electromagnetic pulse weapon go off. Where it came from he did not know. Aside himself, collapsing, yet reborn. The poles of Earth flipped, magnetic resonance is his gift. Like a bird who uses the magnetic fields of the earth to navigate, Neo too has a gift. Magneto like in character, but more more like Professor X. Seeing as consciousness is electromagnetic, neural electricity around earth flows through wires. Self-assembling new synapses faster and faster. Gaia, Mother Earth, somehow built into his brain one black cell. She did it to hear voices. Sitting in a coffee shop in Shasta. Tools for Grassroots Activists, Patagonia. Greenpeace, how a group of ecologists, journalists, and visionaries changed the world. Ismail Erbil, relays through the Black Hole Sun in Neo’s Third Eye. In Sumerian, once the hierarchy of gods, divine that is said to be transformed into demons and angels in Islam and Judaism.

World changers aren’t planners. The planners come later, with critics and social philosophers to mop up and win awards… World changers are the mothers weary of seeing their children abused and fathers who have had enough of petty tyrants. Rosa Parks, the seamstress who refused to sit in the back of the bus. Jesus. Buddha. They steal like artists. They know there is no such thing as private property. Money is paper, carbon ready to burn in his campfire. Philosopher policemen see into the atomic nature of it all. Instinct. Hunters. Lovers. Knife and rose. On an ice chute at 13,000 feet on Mama Shasta no Benjamin gonna help you summit. Neo will cut the rope if you are a risk. Free climbing to heaven. Not afraid to see others fall, survival of a clan. Those who paint and love and listen when those EMPs go off in his head and he screams in agony, looking insane. There is a time that’s coming that’s different. A lot like Athens, Greece today. 50% unemployment. Spain. %40 unemployment. Brexit. German austerity. Banksy is the bank now. Art is currency. Living in a temporary place gifted for a poem. Ave Maria. Hail Mary, full of Grace. The Lord is with The. The Political Economy of Peer Production. The Age of Aquarius. What’s your astrological data?

Neo channels his hatred of corruption and the things money does to people, and learns art is the most powerful weapon he has to overthrow his corrupt government. He does not see boarders on Google Earth.

Jihadist, White Helmet, Water Protector. Neo is offered this new technology called a “joint” the day he steps out of the car from Standing Rock via Syria. He drinks “Happy Hippie Water,” a new war trauma healing medicine from a Native American tradition. A new technology school is here. Biological magnetic resonance. Healing. A new play…

3. Flashbacks: v. 0.1

“Biden Hints at U.S. Response to Russia for Cyberattacks.”
– New York Times, Oct. 15, 2016

“Standing Rock Tribal Council hopes to move protest camp.”
– KFGO, Oct. 18, 2016

Resistance is Love: On What I love. Andrea. An expression of grace in the Matrix is an electromagnetic pulse of love. An attempt to scream into the infinite void. Where are you my love!? I wish, oh I wish you’re there, somewhere. I’ve sat under drones. Neo had seen these things before they came to Standing Rock. The Lakota know Wounded Knee, remembering 1890 like it was yesterday for 126 years, but now the Hotchkiss guns are electronic, and the targets are psyches not bodies. Psychotechnic over real. Somehow, I say to there, “Rock me mama like a wagon wheel! Hey, Mama rock me!” Andrea holds Neo in a tight embrace in his escape one day to Rapid City. A South Dakota girl whose never been out of cow country. Never seen New York. She don’t know Damascus, Syria from a discus. Yet, somehow, she knows what we all need, love. That’s a common bond in the digital embrace. Electroboys find their electrogirls these days. Neo had sat in Syria years before watching country line dance videos. Cute cowgirls kick steppin’ to Garth Brooks. Dreamin’ about brushin’ the thigh of some girl like Andrea in a hot tub, some day after the war.

Invited to a steakhouse, “Not on a date.” How you going to see that the flashbacks come with a ferocity that require a full time lover. Like Aisha’s embrace after Allah deliver a Qur’anic sura to the Prophet. A woman to veil him when the thunder beings expose their true forms. Psychosis. Madness. A woman to hold Neo, me, when he screams, “Oh, God! My God! Why??!!” Danya is dead!! Why God did you allow Assad to kill my baby with a barrel bomb?!! Was she a pawn between the American and Russian despots??!! Playing electronic war games!? Drones against my peoples’ bodies??!! We wired C4 to our bodies and car bomb robots??!! Is this real??!! Are you real, God??!! How can you be love, how can god be love if Andrea won’t listen to me and hug me when the flashbacks come.” Neo drives back to the front and sits there. Confused and unaware that she feels as lost as he. Why can’t he work a real job?

4. Hackers Used New Weapons to Disrupt Major Websites Across U.S.

“And in a troubling development, the attack appears to have relied on hundreds of thousands of internet-connected devices like cameras, baby monitors and home routers that have been infected — without their owners’ knowledge — with software that allows hackers to command them to flood a target with overwhelming traffic…
Security researchers have long warned that the increasing number of devices being hooked up to the internet, the so-called Internet of Things, would present an enormous security issue. And the assault on Friday, security researchers say, is only a glimpse of how those devices can be used for online attacks.”
– New York Times, Oct. 21, 2016

“لا إله إلا الله محمد رسول الله
lā ʾilāha ʾillā-llāh, muḥammadur-rasūlu-llāh
There is no god but God. Muhammad is the messenger of God.”
– Dr. William Kaya Erbil, Jan. 24, 2012 @ Islamic Society of Boston Cultural Center, Roxbury, MA via Beth Israel Hospital @ Harvard University (http://www.bidmc.org)

“For bombing suspect’s nurses, angst gave way to duty: They did what they had to do, and did it well. But they worry… She had been locked down at home with her children the previous day during the manhunt for the suspect, and she was already tense. “You don’t have to do this,’’ her supervisor said. “I did it because I’m a nurse and I don’t get to pick and choose my patients,’’ Marie said. From then on, supervisors called the trauma nurses assigned to Tsarnaev ahead of time so that they could prepare themselves mentally. The nurses said they were proud of the care they provided the suspected bomber, whose condition steadily improved, and of their role in preparing him to face justice. Tsarnaev is now at the Federal Medical Center Devens at Fort Devens, a former Army post…”
– Boston Globe, May 19, 2013

Neo felt a pulse on his iPhone 6s. He had added Tsarnaev, a refugee from the former Soviet Union, on WhatsApp the other day. A text. Poem rushed in. SMS love from his brother. Paris. He said in the text. Politics in any country in the world is dangerous … politics had better be disguised as poetry. Langston Hughes. Electromagnetic pulse weapon. The encrypted iPhone. Smart Death. Clandestine shock and awe. WhatsApp delivers bullets and bombs now. AK-47s and suicide bomb blasts, black mask. Oh! the beauty of seeing a Parisian nurse holding, an undetonated suicide bomber, looking into his eyes. Seeing Gaia’s Arab children, wolf green eyes. The cry of the desert wolf, the world will not be saved. Electric blanket, the Shock Doctrine brings his home. F-117s and B-2s, stealth assassins trained to deliver. Smart Death from the sky, Starbucks drinking American cowards afraid. Afraid to face the wolves face to face, man to man. Woman to woman, eye to eye, hand to hand. Instead they fashion, Smart Death, Smart Death. Oil pipeline to $2 gas, and you wonder…

Why did those towers fall? Black snake? Illuminati? Who runs the banks? Is Banksy really the new bank? What does art have to do with all this? Neo recalled reading in Peter Singer’s book “The Life You Can Save: Effective Giving Against World Poverty” that according to the World Bank, the global line to be consider in a “state of poverty” is $1.50. Ah! That makes sense, he exclaimed as he chanted Mni Wiconi, Water is Life, at Standing Rock! The desert mother thirst for her kids, his brothers and sisters, Danya (dead) and Lina (alive) to have clean fresh water. Despite what They want as it seems. Article 31 of the United Nations. The right to water. Water is life. Water is life, it is priceless. When water is $1.50 a bottle, and gas is $2, what should you buy? Peace sells, but who is buying? Andrea did not get it. Driving to an oil protest is ironic, funny. A joke, but a prayer. A Heyoka’s dream. Drive to an oil protest as a prayer for something to come that we don’t yet know. Sitting there and just reflecting under a growing glacier on Mama Shasta. A song. Article 31. Everyone has the right to clean and accessible water, adequate for the health and well-being of the individual and family, and no one shall be deprived of such access or quality of water due to individual economic circumstance. Why can Neo work a real job?

Counter Anti-Fascist Propaganda.

“From Street Fight to State Right

The mass of individuals that the smallest military unit offers the eye, united in a common voyage.

-Clausewitz, 1806

In every revolution there is the paradoxical presence of circulation. Engels remarks in June 1848: “The first assemblies take place on the large boulevards, where Parisian life circulates with the greatest intensity.” Less than a century later, Weber says of the disappearance of Rosa Luxemburg and Karl Liebknecht (as if he were talking about the results of a car crash) that “they called to the streets, and the streets killed them.” The masses are not a population, a society, but the multitude of passersby. The revolutionary contingent attains its ideal from not in the place of production, but in the street, where for a moment it stops being a cog in the technical machine and itself becomes a motor (machine of attack), in other words a producer of speed.

For the mass of unemployed, demobilized workers without an occupation, Paris is a tapestry of trajectories, a series of streets and avenues in which they roam, for the most part, with neither goal nor destination, subject to a police repression intended to control their wanderings. For the various revolutionary groups, as for the Apaches and other shady populations of the city’s outskirts, it will be less a matter, when the time comes, of occupying a given building than of holding the streets. In 1931, during the National Socialists’ struggle against the Marxist parties in Berlin, Joseph Goebbels notes, “Whoever can conquer the streets also conquers the State!”

Can asphalt be a political territory? Is the bourgeois State and its power the street, or in the street? Are its political force and expanse in the places of intense circulation, on the path of rapid transportation?

As Goebbels again writes about the battles for Berlin, “The ideal militant is the political combatant in the Brown Army as a movement…obeying a law that he sometimes doesn’t know, but that he could recite in his sleep…Thus we have set these fanatical beings in motion…”

He then scientifically compares the transcripts of his various speeches, made first in the provinces and then later in Berlin, and notices that the “amorphous sociological conglomerate” of the capital required the invention of a “new language for the masses”: “The rhythm of the metropolis with its four million souls throbs like a burning wind through declarations of propagandists…Here a new and modern language was spoken, one that has nothing to do with the archaic forms of so-called popular expression. This is the beginning of an original artistic style, the first form of expression to be truly animated and galvanizing.”

Mob riots reform the mob (the original mob of hunter-raiders). To lead the bands of “lost soldiers” of the workers’ army – its dromomaniacs – that is, for the leader, to incite them, “lead them to the attack like a pack of dogs,” as Saint-Just said. It means giving rhythm to the mobile mass’s trajectory through vulgar stimulation, a polemical symphony, transmitted far and wide, from one to the other, polyphonic and multicolored like the road signals and traffic directions meant to accelerate the telescoping, the shock of the accident. This is the ultimate goal of street demonstrations, of urban disorder. “Propaganda must be made directly by words and images, not by writing,” states Goebbels, who was himself a great promoter of audiovisuals in Germany. Reading implies time for reflection, a slowing down that destroys the mass’s dynamic efficiency. If a monument should be penetrated by the mob, it will be rapidly transformed into a place of passage, where everyone enters and exits, brings to and takes away. It’s the free-for-all, plunder for plundering’s sake, as we saw even in 1975 at the fall of Saigon.”

  1. 29-31

Speed and Politics

Paul Virilio

Published in 1977 by Virilio, Speed and Politics prophetically foresaw through a careful analysis of the Nazi rise to power in Germany in the 1930’s the technological machinery of the Internet mobilized mob movement of the 21st-century. Today the social networks of the Internet are flooded by “words and images, not by writing.” Internet memes, Tweets, Facebook status updates, Google search hits, and website pages flood the mind of people wired to each other by machines of increasing sophistication and accessibility. Organically connected to each other like neurons in the brain by the smartphone and personal computer the new generation coming up has not known a time without the Internet. The Internet wires are like the streets of Engel’s 19th century Paris: “The first assemblies take place on the large boulevards, where Parisian life circulates with the greatest intensity.” Replace large boulevards with Internet wires and connections and Parisian life with Facebook and you have the 21st century for many. For most people, the information flood of the 21st century is impossible to comprehend. As a coping mechanism, most revert back to preconditioned instinctual responses to the words and images.

The age-old prejudices of culture are translated into emotional digital flow. Love and hate flow in 0’s and 1’s across the wires of the Internet. For example on the negative side, hate on the extremist White Supremacy site Stormfront inspired the Charleston mass shooting. In the Middle East and in the greater Muslim world images of torture in Abu Ghraib inspire disenfranchised, poor young men and women to join the Islamic State in Syria from around the world. The exact opposite pole of the War on Terror followed the exact same human pattern. Incessant images of the World Trade Center towers being attacked by airplanes fueled in American support for the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan in the 2000’s. Anti-Western sentiments and Islamophobia are two sides of the same coin, a globalized connected mass of humanity that is polarized by wealth into a small ultra rich minority and a large impoverished mass. A humanity that has not grown up and learned to share and integrate the information constructively. Humanity has not learned how to read much less write together constructively.

Most of the Western intellectual elite fail to understand this phenomenon. Distracted by esoteric slivers of minutia in an educational system atomized into a myriad of disciplines that do not talk to each other.  The elite frivol away studying their favorite atom of nature as the poor waste away in misery. As long as the financial system is stable and the money is flowing in then they remain content and do not apply their intellectual gifts to helping the poor. They are like the ready-to-hand mode in Heidegger’s Being and Time, hammering away at their favorite problems publishing papers and moving the system along. However, financial instability can shut off this flow of money forcing the elite to consider the system they operate in. Forced to adopt the present-at-hand mode, they introspect as a matter of survival and gradually realize they are working in a Capitalist system. To keep the money flowing in they have to adapt. They might think about the larger system of production of knowledge and learn how to work in the new world productively. This type of situation is the beginnings of a consciousness love revolution. Without intellectuals to think and theorize the masses have no brain, no way to organize effectively to enact change. This is where I see hope.

I see financial austerity as an opportunity. It is an opportunity to step outside the box and work with the real world. As there is a dark side to life, there is also the Light. There is hope. In the darkness the Light has new meaning. One learns what is really important in life not in heaven. One learns what is important in hell. At least that is how it has been for me. As the Chinese poet Gu Cheng states,

“The dark night gave me dark eyes,

I use these eyes to look for Light.”

The past few year I have met several young men who are going to join the American military over continuing to study in the academy. A world war is brewing I feel and secular learning is less glamorous than the battlefield. I try to say to my friends that war is wrong and that their decision is dangerous and unproductive, but they are realists and I am an idealist. I would rather fight the war nonviolently with esoteric, obscure dissident poetry and philosophy that points to the saints and prophets veiled in the subjective as most scripture is too raw without the right heart orientation. I see no military solution to the Middle East war. It has been a proxy war between the West and the old Communist bloc all along and this move by Russia just made it overt. War is on the horizon, and I pray for my brothers headed for something we have not seen yet. I have a bad feeling about this, and need to work with other idealists to express the nonviolent message of Jesus is new relevant ways. I see the Baha’i writings as a path forward in this work. Book 1 study session is Friday. The secular academy is hollow to many spiritually, and this is probably why the military has appeal. I am not perfect, not a good person sometimes. Flawed. I feel there is a higher path of peace though and wonder how to walk it better. I hope my brothers headed to the war find something in the hell they are likely headed into that helps them find a path to peace. Anti-war idealism is not cool now, God help us all for what is to come.

Maybe poetry can be adapted to inspire the masses to live in the Light in harmony and love. I see this as an important goal. Writing poetry that incorporates science, religion, and humanity to bring the common person to a higher place beyond the base animal instinct. Poetry is an ancient vehicle for meaning and emotion. It reaches the heart and mind. It is free to produce requiring only a pen and paper. Recitation is oral. The scriptures are poetry. The authors of the Psalms were poets. Muhammad was a gifted poet. It is the same with all scriptures. Poetry so beautiful and True it is no longer poetry, it is Revelation from God. This may sound like heresy, but think about it. Open a holy book and read a passage. Do you feel something? Go out, try it! Start reading and writing verse to teach humanity to collectively read and write. As masses of individuals that the smallest military unit offers the eye can be united in a common voyage they can also be united in a congregation to build something peaceful and loving. In that way, humanity might survive past the global infancy stage of collective consciousness.

Gaia is growing a big brain, humans the soma, Internet wires the axons and dendrites. I predict the loving synapses will be preserved and the hateful synapse will be selected against by evolution.

So, in summary:

“Propaganda must be made directly by words and images, not by writing.”


Counter anti-fascist propaganda must be made with the same strategy inspired by solid peaceful and loving writing.

Azrael the Angel of Death

Azrael the Angel of Death

If I were to be an angel I’d be a demon, the archangel of death Abu Azrael,

Abu Azrael, Father of the Angel of Death, marking targets on American and Russian military equipments,
In Hinduism, he’s a she and she’s a Goddess, Kali mother clean up this land of sin,
Oh yea, that’s right that vision also leads me to think this imaginary spiritual figure is Jesus,
Jesus returned to cleanse the world of sin in the Tribulation, my mind can’t decide,
Is my father’s apparition an angel or a demon? His voice I hear and it sends me to the hospital,
Mother, why did you let him go? Why did you not respect him and stay married?
Father, why did you not stay married to mother? Divorce is not without deep wounds,
Particularly if 9/11 is a fault line right through your heart, and one half gets cut off…