I want to talk about death and rebirth—a very specific death and rebirth. The death is that of the Amerikan dream, in fact of the world dream. A dream that for most of us has been a nightmare. A dream, a nightmare, that drove many of us to insanity and suicide. And that is slowly, inexorably driving the whole world to insanity and suicide. A dream, a nightmare, that this blog starts off by announcing the death of.

There are still dreams. Life is a dream and made of dreams; do not doubt that. But let it no longer be the Amerikan—and world—dream because that dream is killing us. It has made society an insane asylum and world history the case history of one huge nuthouse. A crematorium where individual dreams go up in smoke. A galley ship for slaves wherein even the self-deluded masters are slaves. An arena for anything and everything but freedom: notions of wealth, fame, beauty, morality, the so-called good life that keep us enslaved to a nightmare.

Did Nietzsche stand on Mount Sumeru with a megaphone when he declared the death of God? He was saying it—affirming it—more to himself than to anyone he expected would read, much less take seriously, what he’d written. And it was primarily an affirmation; it affirmed the birth within Nietzsche—and, later, those of his readers who would take him seriously or at least hear him out—of the reality that flooded his insight, his imagination, his dream, his freedom, when the God illusion had been dealt its mortal blow.

I do not compare myself with Nietzsche except to say that, like him, I make this declaration first and foremost to myself. It empowers me to do so. And it is not an empty empowerment: I mean to follow through on what it means. So what does it mean?

It means what this blog is about. Freedom. Ultimate freedom. Using one’s imagination to be free. Free of the Amerikan and world nightmare. Free to be reborn to a dream—which is a reality—that is our very own, that we have the power (if also the will) to direct.

This blog is about my imagination, my dream, my freedom. How I use them now I have killed the Amerikan and world nightmare in me. And am born, constantly reborn, to a consciousness, a life directed by my imagination, my dream, my freedom.

This inaugural post is my declaration of the death of the world nightmare, the human apocalypse, that has been upon us since long before the birth of Christianity. (That religion only helped fulfill it.) Perhaps the Amerikan dream, spawned by Capitalism and Calvinism, was merely its latest incarnation.

What does the death of the Amerikan and world dream mean? What does it mean to have stated it so factually? As I’ve said, it means whatever this blog means, whatever this blog delivers—because this blog is devoted to the reality that appears when reality itself has disappeared only to be transformed by a greater insight, a more empowering dream and a freedom that is finally—and can honestly be said to be—my own.

Freedom in its many, many manifestations. Welcome to my free-spirited, free thinking, free wheeling world, which rises, phoenix-like, from the ashes of the dead dream . . .