The Fridlips came to power when I was a 67 year old. Surprised the hell out of me. I really thought the world was a bit smarter than that on average, but I was obviously, tragically, wrong. The leader of a religion voted into the leadership of a country? When I was young, we would never have done this. Times have changed -- the madness of having the masses vote something into being is wild and uncontrollable, and they finally did it, voted in what we all feared, the one who found they couldn't leave the throne after eight years and decided, since he had the armies, to stay...
Religous justifications were given, and any who doubted the veracity of the priest/politico's was considered a heretic and jailed until they could be reprogramed -- by brain washing techniques long perfected at producing whatever personality best suited those in control.
Religion was not always the controlling power in the world. I know that it is illegal to write such 'blashphemy,' and my writing has stayed away from criticising them for all of my 157 years. I was the good citizen who simply started writing about anything except politics and religion... I wanted people of all religions and political stripes to be my fans. Or so I told myself and mymore radical freinds -- who thought I was 'selling out'. I did what I did to keep my family safe. Not that I wasn't effected by the take over by Our Smiling Ruler Dude, Divine Leader Of The Fridlips. Had I been alone, I think I would have just let myself die. At least I hope this is true. The alternative, that I am a coward who suffered through this life for no good reason, is too horrifying for me to entertain.
No, I carried my cross through the world. All just for the faces of my children, and then my grandchildren, and soon my great, great, great, great grandchildren... all happily living in the blissful ignorance of their youth. Their life has to be allowed to go on. Even if they are religious puppets of the Absurdist's Sect... So I have always, when my urge to fight them has risen, reminded myself of what happens to the family's of heretics, and stayed silent.
My last hope is that these words will spread like an infection from mind to mind. I have been secretly talking to one of them, a Jacob 87987. I may have planted the seeds of scepticism in his mind, or just given him a slightly odd memory of his grandfather babbling about something that he knew, from reading history books no less, did not happen. Jacom 97987 has been taught the word. He knows not to say it, and has kept our secret for nearly four years, from the age of seven to eleven.I have always said that the reason to live this horrorifying life is to stop the horrorifying. Or at least a little bit, what we can; as much as one grain of sand can effect the ocean. The best of us have become urban missionaries, take the time to put together baskets for the poor, run soup kitchens and second hand stores, nurture the youth. Instead of protesting other problems, they are the ones who focus on the problems in the now, instead of protesting some unstoppable war. . . spend their time putting together baskets for the poor, running the soap kitchens and second hand clothing stores, nurturing the youth. They seem to count to me, an atheist even after over a hundred years of living in a world where the word does not exist, like secular saints. 'Secular Saints.' These words mean something else to the children now, they are raised under the new religous dictates where the word 'secular' -- and indeed the entire concept of the secular, is never inserted into their questing minds. They are given the answers that best suit the state, and nothing more. They are supposed to be carefully constructed personalites that are best suited toward the produce and consume market the wealthy have decided upon -- their decision, no doubt, colored by the fact that they do not want their lives of consument idle and luxury to be jeoperdized.
The wasteful sides of us are even being bred out genetically, so parents can be sure that their child will fit in; they are lowering intellegences and destroying parts of the brain that critically think. They are better off being A Smily Fit In, as the government describes 'the healty consumer product' that results from teh surgery. A tube is inserted into the nose, then swished about all haphazardly, destroying the right side of the frontal lobe, getting rid of creativity and higher language skills in the process.They make everyone put their elbow on their ear five times a day, and walk backwards every one hundred steps. You gain points toward various prizes in heaven with every holy act. You can't cheat, they tell the masses, because the one god will see you. They get virgins for so many, motorcycles, luxury cars... always the hottest one on the market at the very moment the new Religous Billboards go up around town. Every three blocks. They color them differently in every town, so they do not detract from the natural beauty... that is what they say at least. They look like shit to me, though the more conditioned citizens, like my sons, think they are works of art that are somehow better looking than mountains, streams, or in my case, the lake. None of them could understand why I was saddened by this. I used to laugh at them, at first... They were the uneducated, fucking goat farmers from the most backwards parts of the world... they passed laws saying that all dogs must have their genitilia covered, as must sheep and goats, because the leaders knew that they got aroused by the thought of bestiality and could only assume that masses felt the same way. Oh, how I laughed at that. And I laughed when I saw all these people, five times a day, putting their elbows to their ears and humming that damn song, "'e Are The State, The Is So We Are,' over and over... ten times
.Now everyone is so solemn during the rituals, take them so seriously, cover all the dogs and goats and sheep -- an act that somehow sexualized them, oddly enough. My generation is almost gone. Soon no one will even remember the ideas that were cherished in my youth. Well, no one except Jacob 87987. I have told him to tell his children. I doubt he will. Much as I hate to admit it, even he is beginning to look at me like I am mad....
THOU SHALT NOT STEAL THE WRITINGS OF JOHN SCOTT RIDGWAY... YOU CAN EASILY GET PERMISSION FOR A NON COMMERCIAL REPRINT BY CONTACTING MY EMAIL.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
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