Nappy Muvers Dei 2014
(Especially for my own mother Adelaide (Della) and for all mothers living and past.)
Mother earth defines you well. The longest rivers and largest mountains get to the heart of you. Mother of all mothers who I gargled my very first sounds for. Mum, the first imprint that put me together, the garden of mum I grow in, the rich soil and the vast sky and fresh life water that made me real, in the flesh and in the mind, i think. Cheers for that.
For the countless thousands of hours spent tolerating my little bossy boots stomping about your house like a screaming demon, I am sincerely indebted. For my territorial pissing and poop markings, and for my emotional terrorism around the terrible twos, I commend you on not making that my career: metaphorically pissing and/or shitting on people. Thanks for not returning my many declarations of war made against you, like Lao Tzu, you kept the peace and did not fall for my infant black-mail and emotional hijacking operations. Smarter than an eye for an eye.
By demonstrating your infinite compassion for me you win every vote and always come up top trumps. In a ruff and tuff’ world i imagine that unsaddled sympathy cuts through the bullshit and gets to the very heart of the matter. Mother, the great reasoning, the oral tradition, all languages and tongues of the mother, and in you, my mother. A listening ear and a improvisational skill at speaking to me in her special way, her own way, each word full of sincerity, burning like good poetry into the symbol processor, into my brain. Mind meets first word at the mothers mouth, usually love, baby, oh, ‘ouchi-ku’ etc. I respect you for leaving enough space in my life to re-knit the semantics and the symbols together, or bind the meaning, and the symbols together.
Furthermore, to me you reflect the open source ideal of generally matrist traits in society, open, and so opposed to the current centralized closed authority crazed, war-mad, patrist traits in contemporary society, really, you do. And this is all credit to Dad too of course too, for not over-riding your advice to me and your own ways of dealing, simply based upon his male strength. The open society is where freedom and individual rights are cherished, and where powers of authority and government are limited to protect against greedy super-powerful states shitting on everybody with bombs, soft-drinks and celebrity brainwashing. This idea reflects your tolerance of my own social explorations and your balanced mixture of good advice with allowing for a large amount of freedom to go and more or less do what I liked, when I had demonstrated that I could survive out there without you and dad. You were always kind and sweet to friends and girl friends I invited into your house, you never put me on a guilt trip concerning sex. Similar to a generally matrist society at large, sex is treated openly and without taboo. A mothers mother knows how the circle of life works intimately, as Paul Krassner once put it: fuck socialism.
What man can know what it must be like to be a mother and see her child grow into a young adult, often reverting back to infantile tactics and strategies but now deployed from a much larger body and a louder voice? Mother encourages conversation and communication, river flows free. Talking about it can work it out, she says, this reflects the motherly oral tradition, opposed to writing things down into lists and fixing ideas onto a page in alphabetical and grammatical cages, but instead speaking them, playing with the speech and finding a way to express it in the moment. Keeping your wits about you, as she would say. Still, here I fixed this writing up for your contemplation and enjoyment on mothers day. It is just as relevant tomorrow and any other day mind you.
I am ever grateful to you for turning me onto the wonders of science and astronomy at an early age, kicking off my fascination with mystery, the unknown universe and questions like ‘where did we come from?, together with a loose Darwinian model wrapped up in your own special way of putting it, often landing splatt in the face of God. Way to go mum. Yeah, your love seems far greater than that of any God or mystical entity invoked from old dusty scripture. Thank the soul of Elvis and the Beatles for showing God the door in a way that maybe Nietzsche might have enjoyed, leading us into mums kitchen for a cup of tea, and then off into a Hawking universe. Like mount Snowdon or like the great river Severn, the water and the air and the earth, you are everywhere at he root of all the good stuff, the life cycle, the life affirming principle, the chaos.
I see a connection between you and the positive stereotype of the compassionate mother figure in the way you reason with altered states of consciousness. You broke away from the pervasive thinking of your generation which states that altered states are bad, anti-social and lead to criminal behavior unless they are sanctioned by the government, like alcohol, tobacco and sugar. For a non-cannabis user to come around to a tolerant and liberal attitude towards it seems like a great achievement and exemplary stance. And not just your own son but all people who choose to alter their consciousness in any which way they please, as long as they do not interfere and do harm to others. Many so called highly educated and intelligent people do not hold this compassionate view and show no sympathy for anybody who does not abide by the laws, teachings and doctrine they believe to be true, and not just regarding altered states of consciousness but alterations of anything and everything in society.
Mothers are generally friendly to mutation, no matter what you may turn into, a mother knows intuitively it will be a temporary trend and what lies underneath the cultural clothing we dress ourselves in: the naked vulnerable and impressionable baby ape.
So the term mother probably best sums up everything really, if it came down to just one word, which it rarely does. The ultimate holistic entity, more omnipotent than God, the mama matrix most mysterious contains the reproductive fertility magic of recursion, of recycling magic that make nourishment and life out of nothingness. You really are my everything. Mwah, that’s a kiss x
Nappy muvers dei, steve