9/11 is a Fault Line that Runs Straight Through My Heart

Gestapo666

Milwaukee police after arsons the past week hunting someone the American police state deems a defective untouchable.

“Shit crazy

It’s a fucked up world we living in, in today’s society man
The life that we don’t know
I gotta keep the heater with me right through this cold world man
Ey they don’t give a fuck about us man…”

Cold World, Young Dolph

To slay a demon you have to go into its head and see how it works.  You cannot run away from it, you have to become it.  Understand how it thinks, and learn that it is part of you.  I just finished a book that I self-published on Amazon entitled AK-47 Poetry: How I Learned to Be Okay Watching the World Burn.  Talking about the book with a friend from my old laboratory at the University of Minnesota I was told that a guy in Russia wrote a reinterpretation of The Lord of the Rings from the perspective of Sauron.  I laughed and said that it was fun to talk to someone who gets it.  He had lived in Saudi Arabia at the time the airplanes hit the twin towers and remembered the fact that some people cheered when they fell.  I remember at that time being stunned, watching the fireballs replayed for hours on end in my political science class at Emory University.  Twelve years later, a surveillance police state has been built.  Published on Sep 11, 2013 someone made a video from the Les Legions Noires band Mutiilation song Black Winds of War.  Coincidence?  No.

I wonder where the Milwaukee police learned to hunt people like that?  Oh yea!  Hunting Palestinians in Israel!  Duh!  I have begun to understand why people hit back in terrorist attacks against targets in the West.  Asymmetric war works, think Geronimo.  Was he a terrorist to white settlers in the American West?  Certainly.  Was he a freedom fighter fighting a loosing battle against an enemy with vastly superior technical capacity?  Yes.  Now, these are easy questions.  Let’s get the the harder question, who do you sympathize with today?  Answer that question and you know what side of the War on Terror you lie on.  I will not answer that question any more, but I do take a side from time to time.  I am white, but I side with Geronimo most of the time for the simple fact that I see the absolute unfairness of an asymmetric conflict like he was fighting.  That is the way that War on Terror is fought.  Kids in Palestine thrown rocks and Hamas fires makeshift rockets at the IDF so F-16 come and bomb them and the Israelis use the Iron Dome.  They have to invest billions of dollars into their security infrastructure, draining money that they could use in other areas.  Meanwhile, media attention comes and gradually over the years people start to see what is really going on.

I had a psychotic break in December in which I woke up from sleep, a dream that I had that I wrote out in the poem Headed South: The Tango Over Damascus in this post.  I woke up the night at 2 AM before I was going to come back to Minneapolis after spending Thanksgiving in Atlanta and started walking to Peachtree Creek.  I got in the pond that they had built in the middle of the Decatur Waterworks, took off my shirt and started to scream in agony.  I felt the pain the kids in Aleppo feel under bombers in my soul.  I do not know why, I did.  I felt the black winds of war.  My mother was worried sick, she called me.  I don’t know how she found me.  She did.  She tried to get me from the pond, but I would not come.  I said, “Fuck off.”  Leave me alone in the night and let me put my head in the water.  I don’t want to come home.  Home is a fault line between two worlds for me.  American mother, Turkish father.

“no one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark
you only run for the border
when you see the whole city running as well”

Home, Warsan Shire

I Facebooked Cat Moon Erickson, a woman I knew from high school and started to talk.  She started to talk me down.  A refugee from Vietnam, she and I had a connection about how we felt about American wars in our ancestral homes.  She gave me a video about Gaddafi.  I watched it sitting by a graffitied wall, shirt off lying down in the pine straw.  I discovered a fragment of truth of Benghazi and Libya.  

I learned that I am not crazy.  

I just see the other side.  

I don’t see it, I feel it…

What really makes Sauron different from the Hobbit?  If you are an orc, Sauron is your friend.  Who decides who is an orc and who is a hobbit in the Lord of the Rings story?  When we back away from myths and realize we are all humans, who determines who is dehumanized as targets and who becomes allies?  I don’t want to answer…

I wrote a ton of poems about it in my book.  Please if you want to know just buy the book and read it.

I went to Glenn Memorial Church and made this video, recorded it and played it to the Emory University Candler School of Theology.

People got scared and called the police.  Police finally found me after a chase, I pulled out my camera and started to film the police, and they went away.  What?!!  I walked to Briarcliff Rd. and called the Atlanta Police Department and checked myself into the hospital.  I made sure they took me to the Emory University Hospital.

Emory sent me the Riverwood Hospital in South Atlanta.  Quoting the top Google review:

“The place is a living hell for those who want treatment and true help. I warn you, it is a “pill mill” and there is no care for patients. I am a type 1 diabetic and my sugar was 250 when I came in. It took them 8 hours to get insulin and they never gave me the correct dosage on night time insulin(lantus). They also did not have food I was able to eat which kept my sugar high. I asked many time for help and the only response I got was “welcome to Riverwood”…”

I am going to continue writing out this nightmare over the next year on this blog.  I do not want to overwhelm readers.  Let’s just say while in Riverwood, some people sympathetic to ISIS shot up a mental health treatment facility in San Bernardino.  The smart, compassionate staff at Riverwood decided to play the Fox News coverage of the shooting for 6 hours a day on the hospital television while I was learning Arabic from an African-American woman with a Palestinian boyfriend who had smuggled 50 pages of Arabic lessons in to the hospital.  A nurse came to me and said, “Why did y’all do this to us?”  I just smiled and went back to learning my Arabic words for animals…

bottle

In one of my prayers the night before I prayed, “Please God execute fascists who like stealth bombers and torture the mentally ill in prisons called mental wards.”

Am I happy about this memory?

Instead of writing some logical linear response to this, I’ll just put some recent Facebook posts down here.  I do not have any linear order for how I feel.  It’s mixed up…

“This is not heresy, I will not repent. I am going to fight you Doctor. You are not going to kill my demonic muse with your Zyprexa sniper rifle, I need my darkness to hunt fascists in my head to write propaganda. You think, doctor, that you know everything, enough to kill the one thing I have left. My vision must be there to write, to show others the “why” behind terrorism. If a normal man writes poetry like I do, think about the kids hitting racist Europe from Syria, you think they are going to be happy?? Only, if someone reads something like my poetry book and is scared into acting compassionately. It’s sad we have to shock people to action, but we do…

I’ve got this repeated vision of nuclear weapons, Internet, humanity, and climate change all connected in my head flowing back and forth. Just read a paper about the fact that people care more about climate change when thinking collectively. Second book, have to write it. Need to program game theory simulations of Daisyworld for illustrations. Why can’t I just be normal and not have these visions??!!!

13668729_1775937905976605_3080995005178962499_o

Friend writes back, “Why? My guess is in order for you to be of service to something larger…”

About a book about Schizophrenia and psychosis entitled, “Demons in the Age of Light”:

Sharp, tight writing, the best book I have read on psychosis so far. Just finishing a book give me the same feeling of having done a blood letting. While friends tell me to chill and meditate, take anti-psychotics and go to therapy, I say no! There’s a world on fire that you don’t see! Like in Slaughterhouse Five, I’ve been psychically connected to the war in the Middle East by my father. Everything around that, and I get furious with people when they tell me to let go of my ideas and “meditate.” If I do what they say, nothing changes. I’ve seen a vision of the future, right or wrong, they need to know! I’ve gotta to sit in the black hole to bleed out the demon. Cut the vein and let the black bile come out in poetry.

I think VR can create empathy, but from that empathy can cause violence if someone sees injustice in their real world in resonance with what they see in VR. Dallas. Guy sees cop shooting man in car in VR (he’s in Dallas not Minneapolis), and kills 5 cops in Dallas (real world). I think this is something to write about considering I have fought for Syria due to VR, and considered crazy. Now, after Dallas I feel I can write a killer fucking book on how dangerous VR is… However, my poetry book inspires a friend to connect with a Syrian refugee camp and build real plans for real objects for Syrians. Gosh VR is good now!!!

Izwel brother, you going to be okay. Where ever you are, in the woods hiding or dancing with Dance Church. Smoothies or something else, who cares. Take my iPad for these and go out and make a living brother doing your art. I saw your demons on the floor of the Seward Cafe in the hands of a kid. I know what it is the be possessed. We cool you and me, let’s infect the world with our strange kind of insanity…

13913649_1776418489261880_3410445851750255085_o

My new girlfriend spontaneously started to build a bed as a mockup for plans Harper Pollack, a Polish man who helps Syrian children in squats in Athens for free in Project Daedalus.  I walked in on her after Dance Church Sunday drawing plans for this bed she later fabricated to send Harper photos of…

IMG_1149

Second data point for the positivity of pushing through the black hole and not repenting.  I read Headed South: The Tango Over Damascus and this poem Ghost in the Shell at a Black Lives Matter poetry event (with a lot of Somalis) and people absolutely love me.  One Somali young man came up to me afterwards saying things like “I’ve been researching Libya…”  I say, just get the book bro, I wrote a poem about it.

Ghost in the Shell

Mobile armored riot police,
Who are you, white man,
White woman, who wears,
A clean white shirt and black slacks,

Drives a nice car,
Lives in a nice house,
Somewhere in 30345,

Do you own a house,
Have kids to wipe the snot,
Off as they cry, over spilled,
White milk, white milk,
Spoiled and old, curdled,
Pasteurized, safe, fenced,
Clean, no germs, store,
Bought with green,
Green is the color,
Of my pain, my heart,
Bleeds green, red blood,
Damascus, my love,
You gave me something,
That day, 9/9/2009,
The memories of graphs,
On my door, weight loss,
Anorexia, bulimia, vomit,
I have to be the best,
I have to make it to MIT,
Son, you are a machine,
Son of mountains, poem,
You are a chemist, art,
Is worthless, chase money,
White milk, white milk,
It is good for you, clean,
Safe, those folks on,
Tha otha side, in that,
Otha side, that dark side,
That black side, that,
Place where Briarcliff,
Flows into that Moreland,
That place where the music,
Is loud and real, where,
The pain is real, and,
Tha problems are big,
Bullets fly fast, and life,
Is short, that trap, trap,
White milk is safe,
Drink it son and you,
Will be okay, white,
As snow, on tha bluff,
Until Bernie Madoff,
Does his shit and inverts,
Tha dollar sign,
Upside down cash money,
That day is the day,
White milk turns black,
Up becomes down,
Left becomes right,
Violence of silence,
Becomes more painful,
Than a bullet in the brain,
Or a knife up the wrist,
Cut up right, cut up left,
Slit your jugular left and right,
And let that blood flow,
Let the river flow,
Turn the white milk,
Black obsidian, dark,
As the Kaaba is hard,
Rock, Kaya, who is,
The meaning of that?
Who am I?
Why does this sign,
Turn upside down,
Polarity reversal,
Singularity, hard,
And fast, future,
Trap lords, white,
Trap lords, black,
Green money,
Night vision green,
The color of money,
The color of my blood,
No more red,
Colors bleed,
As an artist is,
Grows from,
The ashes,
of those,
Cold, dark,
Atoms.

Finished the reading with:

It’s America, we turn blood and tears into money…

Searching more after a mad scramble to find some solutions to this problem I stumble into this website by a woman trying to start a million hard conversations about race.

TABLETRIBES

ABOUT TABLETRIBES + RADIUS PROJECT

We need tools that allow us to quickly and frequently meet with people who have different experiences and shared values. We need tools that reconnect us to each other and the world around us. We need tools that allow us to share stories and put things into perspective.

TABLETRIBES is an online-to-offline platform that leverages online media to facilitate face-to-face conversations in real life. In 2016, we introduce the Radius Project, a campaign to create one million conversations about race across the U.S.

My father’s last company before he collapse financially. It’s got me thinking from writing Dance Church friends how much this collapse influenced me. It completely destroyed my existential framework for how I derive meaning and purpose. Every value he gave me as how to be a man vanished, seeing the man who gave me birth go up in smoke with the 2008 global financial crisis coupled to what he taught me about the way the world works. Kept pushing and searching, so now I fall back and see this for what it was. It was his attempt to save the world he knew was dying. Desertification from climate change was the reason for the war in the Middle East, so he took what he had and tried to solve it. Solid state physics patents, a hammer. With a man obsessed with technics everything looks like a nail for that hammer. I threw away my mind of technics with his soul death, realizing it to be useless to solve climate change. What we need to solve climate change induced social chaos is love, not in the head but in the heart. So, throw away technics and do art, dance, love, be with people, and travel. That’s what I’ve done between 2009-2016. MIT, Princeton, Pine Ridge, South Atlanta, Berkeley, Harvard, Boston, New York, Minnesota, and Syria via virtual reality. It’s crazy. However, it’s slowly starting to make sense. God is the one that’s there inside, yet it’s not possible for one person to solve anything. My father’s greatest weakness is his inability to ask for forgiveness. He does not forgive. Somethings there, not sure how you cultivate empathy if it’s not there…

Dear Friend,

I wanted to follow up on my comments on your post about poetry a little and give you what I wrote on climate change and the war on terror in a pdf so you don’t have to buy it off Amazon. To explain the motivation for the shocking you have to understand how it was written. Here’s an attempt to do that. Someone on the thread that followed your post said, “cause poetry IS for the self. But the most beautiful part in my opinion is when one does choose to share their own writing, because sometimes if the writer’s lucky, or if the person reading the writers poetry is lucky, there might just be somebody, or even thousands of people, who feel a little less alone.” This is true. I met Yana, my partner you met at the Communion dance the other week via a poem from the book, “Mean Free Path.” For Rumi, as many people who write spiritual things poetry is just a vehicle to the soul. I see the holy books (Bible, Qur’an, Bhagavad Gita, Torah, the Buddhist sutras like the Diamond Sutra, etc.) as poetry, words expressing fundamentally human thoughts divorced from the direct idea of divine inspiration. I see scripture as fundamentally human, poetry that communicates the truth of the unknown know aspects of the divine.

Starting in 9/11/2001 I saw the collapse of the Middle East, millions of people would and will die. For every one Westerner that dies in the War on Terror a million poor Africans and Middle Easterns will die as it has been in the quest to build Israel out of Palestine. Who knows it may become biological, chemical, or nuclear at some point? What would happen if Trump was elected and Tweeted an insult about one of the three members of Bush’s Axis of Evil Kim Jong-un of North Korea? Perhaps a nuclear attack on the Bay Area? That’s where we are at. That is what the book is about. I have a close personal story about this situation. My father tutored the man who shot Pope John Paul II in mathematics (not in gun play!) in Turkey in the late 1970’s, Mehmet Ali Ağca. My father always made sure to hammer into my head as a kid the truth as he saw in about terrorism.

According to Wikipedia about the shooting of the Pope (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mehmet_Ali_A%C4%9Fca):

“Claims of external involvement in the assassination attempt[edit] In November 2010, he publicly accused Cardinal Agostino Casaroli as the mastermind behind the assassination attempt on John Paul II in 1981.[22]

It has also been alleged that the Soviet Union’s KGB ordered the assassination, because of John Paul II’s support for the Solidarity labor movement in Poland. Ağca stated this during one of his interrogations before trial.[23]

However, Ağca’s latest story, as described in his memoir published in 2013 (see below the references to the Italian and French versions of his book) is that it was the Iranian government and Ayatollah Khomeini who ordered the assassination attempt on John Paul II. Ağca claims that he confessed this to the pope when he met him in 1983.”

In other words a fucking mess of governments fucking with each other. This knowledge tormented me for years to the point of madness. 2008 caused my father’s economic collapse. He had invested a lot of money in real estate in Atlanta, and lost it all by about 2011. After my close friends suicide on 9/9/2009, I gradually lost sense of reality, getting lost in the magnitude of death associated with the War on Terror, Iraq, Afghanistan, etc. American hypocrisy and stupidity. The total absence of resistance to war. No one in the streets protesting with the magnitude to stop the horror, to stop the war. Now we have what we have today, World War III. From left to right in this election it does not matter, people in the Middle East are fucked. ISIS will be an excuse for ground war, and hell on earth for them to flow capital.

Getting back to my response, I ended up leaving science, went to seminary at Princeton Theological Seminary and wrote a paper in 2012 in a class called Darwin and Theology (https://drwilliamkayaerbil.wordpress.com/2012/12/26/the-evolution-of-super-religious-cooperative-theology/). I thought that people would understand the paper. They did not, so I left Princeton. I ended up working with refugees for a year in Ameri Corp with the International Rescue Committee. After that I taught in an urban school for a stint. As these experience went along I got more and more enlightened by the source of the War on Terror. Racism, ignorance, white supremacy, capitalism, slavery, Native American Holocaust, and hate. It all started to make sense, as horrible as that sounds.

Now getting to the climate change thing. I came out to Minneapolis last year to work with a colleague from Berkeley in a postdoc, trying to return to the Ivory Tower after three years away. At the U of M, I ended up meeting Baha’is and a bunch of other people that helped me come to clarity about to do about the horrors I had see in my head and experiences. I remember joking in the class of Church History at Princeton that the Crusades were an even where the blood of my Turkish father’s ancestors and the blood of my mother’s European ancestors bathed the Holy Land together. All mixed up in a blood soup bathing the Land over some silly myth. I kept digging and gradually came upon the papers I sent you in the blog posts as comments on your post, about socio-economics and climate change. Then, it all clicked. Humans live on earth, and with climate change we are fighting more and more. I realized that scientist are starting to connect climate with human conflict. There a positive path forward appeared. The poetry book is basically just some notes about feelings. Total crap! 🙂

In summary, I wrote this today about a chanting Soundcloud of a friend:

https://soundcloud.com/sucharit-katyal/in-the-heart-of-love?utm_source=soundcloud&utm_campaign=share&utm_medium=facebook

“Sucharit Katyal is one of the people closer to an angel I have met in my life. He taught yoga at the U of M when I was there last year. I saw a sign for free yoga expecting some shallow airhead hippie, and what I found was an intelligent mystic who sees science as I do, a path to God. Yoga for Sucharit is worship of God, not just stretching or exercise, as it should be. He taught me that chanting Baba Nam Kevalam mantra helps focus the heart on the unknown known of God. I miss him, as he moved to Davis, California for a postdoc. Here is him chanting kiirtan. We often talked about Shams of Tabrizi. If he is Rumi I am Shams, dark, blunt, and coarse. He a flower, me a hammer. Both of us, however, are focused on the same thing, he is just way longer on the path. Working on the Shams to Rumi transition in my own soul…

“Instead of resisting to changes, surrender. Let life be with you, not against you. If you think ‘My life will be upside down’ don’t worry. How do you know down is not better than upside?” ― Shams Tabrizi”

Maybe God turns people’s lives upside down to correct them? God is in charge, not me. That’s scary, it feels uneasy. However, that is what we do if we listen to our heart.

I don’t want my demons taken away because if they are my angels will go too…

-Rilke

I’m in Love With a Riot Grrrl

I dream of people in the Middle East doing Food Not Bombs!

Thunderer, Perfect Mind

We don’t need shoes to walk on glass,
I’ve already cut myself every night,
Ole’ Johnny Blade is my dark friend,
Do you know what I’ve done?! Killed!!!
How can I live with myself, soulless??!!

Where do I turn? What did we do when,
We unchained the earth from the sun?
Left floating 3rd rock from the sun,
Suspended in an absolute void, nowhere,
To turn to find help but each other,

Sisters and brothers,
I need a friends, the demons,
Come from the lower world at night,
The angels come from the sky, upperworld,
American psycho, learn to love,

Ignore the “you’re crazy” comments,
For, for every IQ point they have you have 1000,
When you present a piece of art on Amazon,
… and gets mixed reviews, polarized across 1’s and 5’s,
You know you are onto something,

Are you a night child? Does love set you free,
To bear your soul and leave it on the ground,
Nothing is hidden with me, yet under cover of darkness,
Somewhere there in that void, the void in our hearts,
The void in our minds, the absolute void of 0 (zero),
The infinite 0 of space demonstrates the infinite,

Scream into space and no-one yet has come to help,
Aliens either do not care or are just like us, or better,
Or worse, for out star brothers to show up on CNN,
Will take a concerted effort for people to gather objective data,
The day you see a human face in agony and hug him,

Amen, God is Love!

There is something about the absolute void that screams,
Divinity! Oh, father Sky and Mother Earth,
When the lights are out and the roads shut down,
When electromagnetic pulses destroy the info economy,
Zapping Facebook and Google to silicon vapor,

If you have not made peace with this void,
It will scare you, child of the Black Sun,
Angels are right here right now, an angel,
Is here in this poem, I am an angel of what I do not know,
But I am an angel, I save souls or return them to hell,
Mystical bounty hunter, American Psycho!

Demon slayer, Slayer on my Mp3 player every day,
Burzum is how I survived Berkeley, a little,
Darkthrone, Transylvanian Hunger, bit me my love child,
Eat my flesh, broken for you,
Drink my blood, as it rushes out of the bite wound,

Animals we are repressing our inner drives to hunt,
To fornicate like Bonobos, cyberlove, Tinder,
Cybernetic blood, sugar, sex majik,
Apples, Androids, and Firefoxes,
Hey riot grrrl, want to start a riot?

Dopamine floods, psychodynamic synaptic connection,
Tango my dear, let’s tango and rest from our visions,
My love, I know it is exhausting to be an Orchid,
Dandelions, everywhere, not a single orchid around,
…or, so you think, around the table of Food not Bombs,

We can meet those of our blood, orchid blood, plants,
We vote Green, Ralph Nader, the ridiculous fool was,
Cool with me, but we know that politics is a waste,
Get in the kitchen and cook that vegan food,
Food not Bombs, a gathering for the orchid children,

Amen, God is Love!

…to be continue…

Free personal training in exchange for yoga!

I am looking to offer free lessons in weight training in exchange for help with yoga for my friends to meet new people, find potential lifting partners, and give back to people. I have lifted for years (power lifting, strongman, and body building) and am on a comeback after years of inactivity. I’m looking for people who are interested training 3-4 times per week with weights at Los Campeones Gym in the mornings. I tend to not mess around so be warned this is for serious people only. However, you can be a total novice if your willing to give 100%. I tend to emphasize functional training, compound moves, big five (squat, deadlift, bench press, power clean, and push press), and strongman lifts. If you want to be strong and feel good, private message me! We will also run 3-4 times a week around the lakes and do some rowing for cardio.”

End Facebook post frenzy…

body

Why was Bin Laden’s name Geronimo to Seal Team 6? Duh…

Advertisements

About kayaerbil

I am a Berkeley educated chemistry Ph.D. who is moving into the area of working on developing appropriate technology for communities that are subjected to socio-economic oppression. The goal is to use simple and effective designs to empower people to live better lives. Currently, I am working with Native Americans on Pine Ridge, the Lakota reservation in South Dakota. I am working with a Native owned and run solar energy company. We are currently working on building a compressed earth block (CEB) house that showcases many of the technologies that the company has developed. The CEB house is made of locally derived resources, earth from the reservation. The blocks are naturally thermally insulating, keeping the house cool in the summer and warm in the winter. Eventually, a solar air heater and photovoltaic panels will be installed into the house to power the home and keep it warm, while preserving the house off the grid. A side project while in Pine Ridge is a solar computer. I hope to learn about blockchain encryption software for building microgrids. In addition, it is an immediate interest of mine to involve local youth in technology education.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s