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Middle Earth various issues, 1967-1968

Page 3

A MOUNTAIN OF SHIT
Middle earth page three

Emerson said, in his integrity as a prophet, that we live in the lap of a GREAT INTELLIGENCE.  He was not unaware, but neglected to mention that we also live on a mountain of shit.  Like the Babylonian mountain it can be fashioned into inviting terraces and hanging gardens for those with the price of admission,  but ever here it cannot escape the signature of its molecules.  
The Pentacrest, the Field House, EHA, and mansion on Church street loom as monuments to a four letter word that has become most expressive of the social morbidity of expedience, compromise, conformity, and perversion which oozes and smells and clogs the way at every turn of the scholastic path.  Someday science, in its infinite technology, will process the vast acres of brown stuff which nows goes to waste, swept under the rug, and uses it for building material, but painted, prefabricated, molded, it will be no more or less than the metaphorical excrement we are surrounded with today.  
Stand at the top floor of the Chemistry Building and on a clear day you can see it forever, channeled and reared into the imposing shapes of the expedient Society--deodorized, incorporated, guaranteed by the Seal of Good-Housekeeping, but inevitably betrayed in its basic fecal nature to the Gandalf Eye, the uncorrupted nose, and the anarchic intuition.
  Life on this planet seems so far to have organized itself into a metabolic process of ruthless intake-output, consume and expel. Raw materials--soil, rivers, lakes, oxygen, minerals, people (the most expendable), are utilized on a voracious pattern of technological expedience and expelled from the process as waste matter,  With the vast increase in the scientific power of utilization, the process has now become a global producer of shit which now threatens to poison not only psychically, but also physically, the total ecosphere.  The earth itself is becoming a globule of fecal matter whose fate rests in the final escalation of the strontium fire-storm.  When you stand on a beautiful May morning over looking the river, with the Golden Dome reflecting the sunlight, remember the four-letter pass-word to this world and that the greatest problem is the reduction and disposal of waste matter. 
Remember that you also have to get used to (sh)it.  It comes in your baby food.  you begin to roll in it in Kindergarten.  If you persevere, you finally become a post-graduate with an S.H.I.T. degree, ready and able to carry on the process whose product is excrement.  
You dainty co-eds with the lily hands and antiseptic armpits, the stuff is coming out of your ears.  When you marry $10,000 a year and move into a split-level in exclusive SHITACRES, you will have matriculated and your off-spring will grow up with T.V., barbeques, dancing lessons and Hondas,  Instructors, administrators, regents (authoritarians) with a few notable exceptions, have impressively fabricated long-handled shovels which they used with professional diligence.  The majority of the student body wear well-heeled high boots so that so that wading to the knees, they are still untouched by it.  To the average senses the odor is dissipated by the architecture of air conditioned dormitories, [illegible} halls of learning, and the mythology of Alma Mater.  In any pile. of manure, however, the worms are always busy, and anon their sovereign function will be exposed to sunlight and the mass media.
Perhaps what is missing in this saffron scene is a fleet of honey barges to transport the national night soil to the fields where it can be spread out, sun-dried and air cleaned to be used for the future growth and enlightenment of posterity.  Societal functions, like biologic, may perhaps not be carried on without the production of waste matter.  Not natural defecation, but the historical accumulation of shit is what sickens the organism--the midden-heaps of generations piling up, the pompous stupidities of [illegible] [Iowa?], the Great Auks of Authority leading the [fast?] perpetrated into the national hypocrisies of Freedom, Democracy, and Abundance.  
Dear student- A1, A2, adn G--will you be a shit hauler?  The task has already begun, the stuff is flying, the honey barges are setting out at last,  but the Mountain is still monstrous, packed down, solidified for generations of diarreac dumping.  The cocks still crow proudly from the dung-hill, the worms compound their breeding, and the flag if sovereignty flies stiffly over the brown battlements.   
The final struggle configures itself as a youth-power vs. shit-power --the normal peristaltic movements of change and elimination vs the mind-bound constipation of the old.  Just around the corner, within reach of this most gifted of all the world's generations, lies the bright new shit-free land in which the University becomes the pilot plant of creative growth and change for the society, where persecuted felons such as Jerry Sies and Mark Rudd wipe the shit off their brow and become professors in the new academia.  In another decade. 80% of 
continued on page 6

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A MOUNTAIN OF SHIT Middle earth page three Emerson said, in his integrity as a prophet, that we live in the lap of a GREAT INTELLIGENCE. He was not unaware, but neglected to mention that we also live on a mountain of shit. Like the Babylonian mountain it can be fashioned into inviting terraces and hanging gardens for those with the price of admission, but ever here it cannot escape the signature of its molecules. The Pentacrest, the Field House, EHA, and mansion on Church street loom as monuments to a four letter word that has become most expressive of the social morbidity of expedience, compromise, conformity, and perversion which oozes and smells and clogs the way at every turn of the scholastic path. Someday science, in its infinite technology, will process the vast acres of brown stuff which nows goes to waste, swept under the rug, and uses it for building material, but painted, prefabricated, molded, it will be no more or less than the metaphorical excrement we are surrounded with today. Stand at the top floor of the Chemistry Building and on a clear day you can see it forever, channeled and reared into the imposing shapes of the expedient Society--deodorized, incorporated, guaranteed by the Seal of Good-Housekeeping, but inevitably betrayed in its basic fecal nature to the Gandalf Eye, the uncorrupted nose, and the anarchic intuition. Life on this planet seems so far to have organized itself into a metabolic process of ruthless intake-output, consume and expel. Raw materials--soil, rivers, lakes, oxygen, minerals, people (the most expendable), are utilized on a voracious pattern of technological expedience and expelled from the process as waste matter, With the vast increase in the scientific power of utilization, the process has now become a global producer of shit which now threatens to poison not only psychically, but also physically, the total ecosphere. The earth itself is becoming a globule of fecal matter whose fate rests in the final escalation of the strontium fire-storm. When you stand on a beautiful May morning over looking the river, with the Golden Dome reflecting the sunlight, remember the four-letter pass-word to this world and that the greatest problem is the reduction and disposal of waste matter. Remember that you also have to get used to (sh)it. It comes in your baby food. you begin to roll in it in Kindergarten. If you persevere, you finally become a post-graduate with an S.H.I.T. degree, ready and able to carry on the process whose product is excrement. You dainty co-eds with the lily hands and antiseptic armpits, the stuff is coming out of your ears. When you marry $10,000 a year and move into a split-level in exclusive SHITACRES, you will have matriculated and your off-spring will grow up with T.V., barbeques, dancing lessons and Hondas, Instructors, administrators, regents (authoritarians) with a few notable exceptions, have impressively fabricated long-handled shovels which they used with professional diligence. The majority of the student body wear well-heeled high boots so that so that wading to the knees, they are still untouched by it. To the average senses the odor is dissipated by the architecture of air conditioned dormitories, [illegible} halls of learning, and the mythology of Alma Mater. In any pile. of manure, however, the worms are always busy, and anon their sovereign function will be exposed to sunlight and the mass media. Perhaps what is missing in this saffron scene is a fleet of honey barges to transport the national night soil to the fields where it can be spread out, sun-dried and air cleaned to be used for the future growth and enlightenment of posterity. Societal functions, like biologic, may perhaps not be carried on without the production of waste matter. Not natural defecation, but the historical accumulation of shit is what sickens the organism--the midden-heaps of generations piling up, the pompous stupidities of [illegible] [Iowa?], the Great Auks of Authority leading the [fast?] perpetrated into the national hypocrisies of Freedom, Democracy, and Abundance. Dear student- A1, A2, adn G--will you be a shit hauler? The task has already begun, the stuff is flying, the honey barges are setting out at last, but the Mountain is still monstrous, packed down, solidified for generations of diarreac dumping. The cocks still crow proudly from the dung-hill, the worms compound their breeding, and the flag if sovereignty flies stiffly over the brown battlements. The final struggle configures itself as a youth-power vs. shit-power --the normal peristaltic movements of change and elimination vs the mind-bound constipation of the old. Just around the corner, within reach of this most gifted of all the world's generations, lies the bright new shit-free land in which the University becomes the pilot plant of creative growth and change for the society, where persecuted felons such as Jerry Sies and Mark Rudd wipe the shit off their brow and become professors in the new academia. In another decade. 80% of continued on page 6 DO SOMETHING NOW! You can get Things and more Things and even more Things at THINGS, THINGS, THINGS.