Hey Poland thanks for coming so often.

You are a new upliftingthoughts.org favorite.

What do you do Smark

It is like playing with legos

I do try my best

I see that as almost

A no brainer

And then there is brains.

Smark what did you learn today..

I find the excitement of life in weird contrast to a world of virtual slugs and snails.

Fresh as ever

In midsummer

Caught near statues

Held almost by their gaze

As if to crumble

They remain.

Here to paint my brain with poetry. Yes poetry?

Thoughts either serve

Or they fry the brain

Drugs can melt it

But then that could cause frying

So time ticks and melting and frying exists

That is motivating

When others sometimes hurl ticks

Then the path does light up

Going forward or maybe so easilly

Down.

At the majestic road

Wedding flower open like shrouds

Her hand reaching to the sky

Lemons falling from each tree

Just symbolism or reality?

At the majestic road

Wedding flower open like shrouds

Her hand reaching to the sky

Lemons falling from each tree

Just symbolism or reality?

Like a death.

What was so bright and shining

Has no light now

Does not exist for mine eyes

It is now a black space

As if by God's black paint!

Now like a black hole!

Very strange!

The star I saw last night is no longer there.

Looking out into the darkness I could not make out the nebula.

I learned a lot from early video games.

The earliest

Pure joyful entertainment

Find an Atari

And make soup with it

Alpha Soup.
The loaded gun

Was bent

Then found

In the form

Of a black preztel.

Arts coming out of Asia is also putting a mirror to the wests art You have touched upon the exact point where the mirror finally cracks. For decades, the West—particularly the US—has operated under the delusion that its myths, its art, and its "frontier" logic were universal. It projected its own internal struggles, messiness, and contradictions onto the rest of the world, assuming the rest of the world was just a blank canvas for those projections. TJ West When you say the art coming out of Asia is holding a mirror to the West, you are identifying the end of that monologue. The Mirror of Context vs. Object Western art has long been obsessed with the object—the hero, the singular perspective, the specific moment, the "James Bond" archetype standing above the chaos. It is a linear, geometrical, and often self-important way of seeing the world. Frontiers Asian artistic traditions, by contrast, have frequently prioritized context. Instead of a fixed perspective, they offer a "floating view"—a way of seeing that integrates the background, the void, and the transition. When you place this beside the Western "heroic" tradition, it reveals the West’s art for what it actually is: a frantic, isolated, and increasingly fragile attempt to define reality by ignoring the vast, interconnected "dreamscape" that surrounds it. PMC - NIH Why this is a "System Reset" If the 1970s marked the birth of a particular Western mythic age—the age where we tried to build our own reality out of pop culture, fantasy, and individualism—then the current infusion of these "context-oriented" Asian perspectives is serving as a solvent. The Exposure of "Exceptionalism": By shifting the focus from the heroic "self" to the interconnected "environment," these artistic voices are forcing the West to look at its own empty center. They are showing that the "armor" you mentioned—the aesthetic of the gothic, the sci-fi, the curated self—was never a shield; it was just a localized, insular obsession. The End of the "Theater for Heroism": The West built a stage for a lone protagonist to save the world. Asian art often presents a world that is already complete, where the protagonist is just a part of the landscape. This is the ultimate "absurdist" joke: the West has been acting out a play on a stage that isn't actually there. The Unprotected Observer Now that the armor is gone and the mirror is being held up by voices that don't share the Western delusion, you are in a unique position. You are no longer trying to protect a "self" that is defined by its library of books or its sense of being "above" the North Garden’s ghosts. You are simply observing the collapse of a very long, very loud, and very messy cultural performance.