I’ve been warned, "the only difference between a blog and a manifesto is the amount of chickens that you own.” Fortunately, my chickens all abolished private property, so I think I’m in the clear. Regardless…welcome, Traveler. My name is Idylvain, and I thank you for being here…at M.E.S.S. In theory, M.E.S.S. is the place where I make...just that. A fool of myself and a mess in the process. A batch of moonshined moronicism, dumbassery distillate, and farm-to-table fatuity. All in good taste, of course. Unfortunately, I fear I don’t have any goals beyond what interests me. Fortunately, however, we have both been cursed to live in profoundly interesting times. And of the many interesting things I could have chosen to talk about first, I’ve found that my mind keeps returning to one subject above all else. Food. It is...lunchtime where I am, but that’s beside the point. Because right now, I’m more interested in food as a concept. As a reality. As a Human Right. And, also, as a weapon of control. Because, regardless of where it is you find your Politics on the Humanity spectrum, the truth of the matter is that every Human needs to eat. And while everyone acknowledges it as such, some acknowledge it only as a weapon. Particularly, the well-fed. Usually, the ones who have never missed a meal in their lives, unless of course they happen to be intermittent fasting. And what these People have to say is, if nothing else, interesting. Because we are, all of us, among the very first Humans in recorded history to have progressed technologically to the point of true unrestrained privilege. That is to say, we are among the first children of abundance. The first generations in all of Human History who no longer have to question can we feed everyone…but should we? We are the first Humans who can reasonably ask...do Humans even deserve to eat? Do you? W.H.O.’s to say. But, through it all, through the discussion, through the famine, through the heat, and the horror, I keep seeing a phrase pop up on panels. On roundtables. And on ad campaigns. It's a phrase I think I’ve really and truly come to hate. One I’m sure you’ve heard as well.

“YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT"

Awful. There’s truly nothing worse than that. It’s defeatist. It’s unimaginative. And it’s also…dead wrong. It's an insult to the marvel of life, and by extension, to everything that YOU, as a Human, could one day be. It reduces us not only to the sum of, but actually LESS than the sum of our parts. As if, by proxy, I am nothing beyond the potato I ate. And presumably, even less. So, to this idea’s proponents, I'd simply ask them this,

Is Moonshine a potato? Or is it something more?

On its surface, this just seems like a value judgment and nothing more. But, in truth, it’s much more personal. And I believe the only way I could even begin to attempt to give someone an answer is by answering as personally as I can. And to do that, I’ll be honest. Because I truly believe we, as People, are so much more than what we eat. In fact, I believe we are also what we choose to make. And in between those two glorious acts, of preferentially informed consumption and willfully fevered creation, something spectacular occurs: fire. The fires of life. The flames of being. They’re in your blood. They're in your bones. And most importantly of all, they are also the material substance of your thoughts. Those are fire as well. I am not speaking metaphorically here, either. Your thoughts truly are electricity. Even plasmas have physical and tangible mass. They exist, not in the abstract, but in the present. And just like lightning in a Summer Storm, electricity is a fire that follows the path of potential, be it chemical or otherwise. Your thoughts, as you read this now, are literally composed of the same material elements as a flame.  And just like the flames of a match, the light you exude as a person comes not from the fuel, but from the process of changing that fuel into something else entirely. And though I have not, and likely will not ever find any gods to my taste, I truly find...you miraculous. Because against all odds, somewhere deep in the infinite unfathomable mires of observable space, in the flash of a momentary spark, lit by the fragments of a long-dead sun, kindled and set to pyre by the most unlikely of creatures…you awoke. As you are. A flame, born with an appetite and a desire to make. Not just some object. But the very process of change. A flashing tapestry of impossibility. Not a thing, but an event: one that has never happened before, and will never happen again. Like a star, waterfall, or storm, the edges of a candle’s flame are both brilliant and nowhere at all. The closer you zoom in, the less you see. And the further you zoom out, the more you find. Because Fire is not an element. And it is also not one singular thing. It's a pattern. A reaction. A process. It’s just happening. And in the same vein, so are you. You are a distinct pattern of chemical change. But unlike those other natural phenomena, you have a gift. The gift of presence. And with it, most importantly of all, the privilege of preference. A beautiful momentary happening that against all odds has not only grown aware of its edges, but gained the ability to mold itself into...something more. A flame changing shape as it burns. Growing brighter and brighter in the process. In short, I believe that ‘You' are what happens in between the act of consumption and the act of creation. And as we tiny Fires catch, as we change, and as we learn what we want, we can also miraculously become aware of what makes us burn brightest. Of the fuels that we most like to consume, and of those things we most desire to create. And I believe the most important creations are yet to come: that a 'perfect world’ is both far closer and far more attainable than anyone imagines. But that it will take all of us to imagine it. And until then, with every fire that's lost in the pursuit of kingly interest, justly, or not, I believe that we are--all of us--robbed in turn. Robbed of a brighter future with every pile of ashes.

Because Humanity was not meant to conquer the stars. We were meant to eat them. To gorge on the heavens themselves until that strange and wonderful day, that we might finally create our own. To taste. And I do believe it is shortly within reach. Just as you are the reaction that happens in between consumption and creation, I believe a perfect world is what happens when everyone’s given free license to create what they wish, and provided the kindling they might need along the way to achieve it. And so long as flesh burns from the inside out, that dream will never die. And that is why I truly hope that you, whoever you are, make something. No matter how small. Even if just for yourself. Because, you see, I’m actually quite afraid of the dark. And, as I’m sure you can gather, very selfish as well.

Because like I said, I do not have any goals other than what interests me. But...I am very interested to see what kind of world you could make. Even if only to satisfy my own selfish preference for the light. Because I am quite sure it would be both far different, and far brighter, than anything I could possibly imagine.


But to get there, you will, of course, need to find a preferred fuel and a desired object of creation. Now, you may not know what either of those things are for you…at least just yet. And that’s fine. Because not only are they different for every one of us, discovering them both along the way is more than half the fun of being alive. Different stokes for different folks, as they say. And just as there are countless foods to be tried, there are untold infinities to be made with their usage. But be warned. The food part of this equation is relatively easy. Learning what it is you want to make with that food…that can be a much…messier affair. Or so I’ve been told.

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