I am not easy to impress. Amidst the wreckage of empire when few voices are heard beyond the bombastic bellowing of shills and clowns and cartoon characters; not to mention those of a much darker stripe... there have been... there are... all too few voices of true conscience. There is little passionate eloquence and even rarer... are there any whose technical vision sings like a modern day Da Vinci with a soundtrack by Mozart but... there are some few, some precious few. Buckminster Fuller would be one. Dean Kamen would be another and singing like some marvelous bird... high above the rest... with a song like that of some mythical creature out of the dreams of Lao Tzu by way of Atlantis comes Jacque Fresco.
What can I say about Jacque Fresco? My poor words can do no justice to the life of a man whose elegant vision and humble persona stand as a living embarrassment, a white hot fire of shame in evidence against the lives of the reavers and reprobates of this dishonored age. Here is a man of ninety two, whose regenerated innocence and love for humanity gives him the aspect of a man half his age; would that I, or anyone, had one small fragment of his talent and spiritual force.
Do I exaggerate? Is this just hyperbole? See the movie and you tell me. Read about his work. Study him and then look at our world. Look at what is happening to us at the hands of those who care for nothing but their own profit and importance and you tell me.
It is to weep my friends... to see what a pass we have come to. It is to weep at the callous indifference of those who have put their own citizens on the street; who allow the infrastructure to crumble, who have armed the troglodytes among us with tazers and clubs, made criminals of each of us and who manifest a terror in our minds whose source is none other than those who presume to protect us. It is to weep without comfort and to cry in a darkness that never had to be but... such are the times. The times are the times are the times.
Because I know that there is something sacred and enduring in the human spirit, I know that this veil of temporary darkness will be burned away by that indefinable impetus of freedom that dwells within our imprisoned hearts. Because I know that, for all the pain and sorrow this world provides, healing will come. It is because of this that I do not despair. It is from the evidence of the lives of men like Jacque Fresco that I know we were not meant to go down like a beast to the grave ...at the hands of beasts.
What creatures are these, who storm the throne of dignity and love, who scatter the riches of our brilliant potential like wild apes run amuck in a paradise denied? Who are these men in suits that look to neither side as they proceed? Who and what is this generation of vipers that cannot see past appetite; who do not know the divine intention of righteous desire, who rape and pillage without conscience or consequence? I do not know these men, nor can I call them men at all.
It is a trial and a burden to live in these times. It is a horror. It is some penalty or challenge and I do not know which it is but... I do know that inspiration is not dead. I know that irrespective of all the pornographic and banal music which is the soundtrack of our times; the ill designed products, the terrible food, the endless mockery of television and radio, the whoring out of the children, the shaking and poisoned fat of neglected bodies, the imminent threat of damage and want, the ratcheting upward fear, the lies and indifference, the murders and theft and the perversion of every good thing on the altar of business... I know that all is not lost. When men like Jacque Fresco walk among us it is a sign from a better world that a better world may yet come here.
If I have any credibility with the reader I ask that you explore this man’s work. I ask that you watch him speak and take it for what it is worth for as much as your own life is worth. Jacque is not alone in his concern for everyone. Behind the crowd and outside of the reach of the Hollywood lights there are others working to the same ends. I tell you this because I know how many of you feel. I read the letters you send. I see the world in which you move. Do not despair.
It is a matter of personal sorrow to me that I am compelled to speak about the things that are the ordinary fodder of this blog. It sticks in my belly and it stifles my good spirits that I must talk about the evil at work and those who glory in its accomplishments. It is a rare thing for me to speak of the good and the possibilities of the good that lie within us... so forgive me. Please forgive me for my over-the-top testimonial to a man I have never met but whom I love as if he were my dearest friend.
It is a hard thing for me that there are so few who deserve any praise. Our leaders are liars and criminals one and all. The exceptions are so few that I can count them on the fingers of one hand. Where is there any celebrity who serves without the primary impulse to serve themselves? Where are the religious leaders who speak truth to power? Where are they? Where are they? Where is anyone in a position to speak who is not engaged in a convoluted effort of self-celebration? Why this deafening silence while the agents of your country are engaged in slaughter abroad for the profit of an elite class while the common life is trodden underfoot as if this were the London of Dickens?
Jacque Fresco is a better man than I. He knows something that I do not. He does not spend his time railing against injustice but has rather designed an entire world that is free of injustice. He does not dance with impotent words, devoid of impact. He creates. He has no time to be Don Quixote; that’s my job, I guess.
Take some time to look at this man’s work. Take some time to look deeply at just how deeply he has looked and then look into your own life and see what you have done with your time here. Take a look at the world of the newspapers and television. Take a look at the people on your streets, in the restaurants and all of the environments where we live out the moments of our lives. Ask yourself why the vision of Jacques Fresco is not the main focus of government and business. Ask yourself why Jacque Fresco and others like him are not household words. Who are our household words?
I will tell you why the vision of Jacque Fresco is not the primary industry of our time. It is because the vision of Jacque Fresco is for the benefit of everyone. It not only speaks of a world without strife and war; without want and injustice and the multitude of ills this present world endures, it also has the blueprint, the schematic... the ins and outs and the thing entire. It is detailed and precise and it works. It is a picture of everything we could be according to everything we really are. It is us in the future, if it is permissible for the future to be.
This world, as it is, is sick and ailing and it MUST fail. For all of the better motives and possibilities as yet unseen we must look to men and women like Jacque Fresco. When this world crashes, as it surely will in its present form, then, by the grace of the indefinable, I hope it is a vision like this which defines us. I have nothing left to give for this present world. Take some time to look at what this man has done and if you take away from what you see what I have taken away with me; I hope you will tell him how much you appreciate the time he took on our behalf regardless of what we may presently see.
'And We Could All Be Free' is track no. 8 of 10 on Visible's 2006 album 'Songwriter'
Lyrics (pops up)