How strange a day it is. How strange many of our days are. Today it is Easter, a holiday with little devotional importance to me. My twisted view on religion and interpretation of this day is influenced by the numerous of men and women who have died because of their faith. Some of them were murdered as they tried to appeal to their human rights. Needless to say, whenever someone brings up religion I immediately think of countless deaths that cannot be justified. That aside, many appear to celebrate this day ardently. Seeing that it’s a great deal for legions of religious marionettes out there. Hence, I humbly mention this day out of respect for my fellow men and women who, like me, wander aimlessly on this beautiful planet.
Freedom of religion is a human right. For that reason, everyone is free to assume that a nonviolent anarchistic revolutionary, hippie or ‘leather-tramp’ if you may, came back from the dead. Undoubtedly one can consider this a remarkable occurrence. Especially after being crucified and being laid to rest in a cave. I won’t judge. Just don’t be startled when you find out that I don’t share your attentiveness. I sincerely doubt that there was a cryogenic chamber, or a good surgeon who was up to par with cryotherapy present in that ‘man’ cave. No, this pure bread pacifist died, assuming that he ever existed. He didn’t get to roam the earth and fly off to heaven for an audience with the ‘master of puppets.’ Nor did he have one last earthly sweaty wank. He died just like you and I will in a few years from now. If, by some miracle, he was able to heal instantaneously, he still had to participate in some form of interstellar travel. When that would be the case, I reckon it’s about time to rewrite history entirely.
All I can say about the bloke is that he appeared to live a selfless life, based on what I’ve read and heard. He was anti-wealth, anti-death penalty, anti-public prayer, but never anti-gay, never mentioned abortion or birth control, never called the poor lazy, never justified torture, and never fought for tax cuts for the wealthiest. Chances are his skin wasn’t even white. This man lived in balance with the people surrounding him, regardless of their background. He hung around hookers, lepers, crooks, thus proving that he had a healthy dose of civil disobedience. This, I respect. Especially since his characteristics are a peculiarity in today’s world.
The history of our existence won’t be altered anytime soon. Therefore, I reckon that Easter is the remembrance of the death of the world’s first peaceful revolutionary anarchist. The resurrection in itself might be a misinterpretation of the rigor mortis that kicked in after the Messiah passed away (oh boy, do I love using euphemisms). Obviously this post-mortem physical condition would throw off any groupie who’s yearning for her idol and who’s not familiar with the occurrence.
But enough about this so called holiday. The truth of the matter is that I have a day off from work. A day to do as I please. Hence, I am happy. A day of pure ‘freedom.’ But am I really free? This question boggled my mind all weekend long. For as long as, I can remember I’ve been told that I live in a free world. Assuming that I have not been led astray, I still wonder whether that statement is genuinely true. I can’t help but wonder why it costs so much to live. How can it be that we live in a free world when all of us are forced to spend the majority of our time at work?
It appears to be a necessity in order to have a life in this ‘consumption-oriented free society.’ Though, the day has come where I have figured out that nobody is free. You spend all your time at work and have no time to live the life you’re trying to maintain. Why do we agree to participate in this never-ending story? Is it because we’re taught that freedom requires a sacrifice? Are we led astray when it comes to defining that sacrifice? Or is it because we have a need to be subdued by those in power? The only thing I’m sure of is that my thoughts are still free. They can travel anywhere and question everything.
I don’t believe what you stand for my dear. Even though you are the financial market’s ‘Almighty’ you will never have my support ever again. I’d rather put my two cents on that leather-tramp, many seemed so eager to celebrate today instead of you. Which is peculiar, since I know that you are real, and I have no freaking idea if that hippie ever even existed. You are the creator of money. You are the bearer of bad news. The inventor of poverty, dreaded by many. You succeed in manipulating the masses effortlessly. As my friends, family and I descend into recession I can’t help but notice how you were the ‘master of puppets’ all along. Dealing the cards. Appointing those in power, offering them the necessary means to suppress the masses, regardless of their ideology. You knew they were addicted to you and that they’ll serve you until the day they die.
Even now, when history teaches us that all ideologies have failed, you succeed in having powerful men and women propagate that the world in which they live is the best there is. Regardless of the shortcomings they keep broadcasting the same set of ideas. Thus, creating a map in the heads of many beings and devising a fierce separation among all humans on this planet. Is socialism better than capitalism? Is the free market better than the proletarian state? Is democracy better than fascism? Is communism better than a military dictatorship? Is feudal bondage better than slavery? All possible discussions will be equally absurd since all of them justify sacrificing 99% of the world’s population at the altar of an all-powerful elite.
Needless to say, whenever someone brings up economy I immediately think of you and the countless deaths that cannot be justified. Will you please allow us to envision, invent and implement a new paradigm? A system that does not entail endless growth on a planet with finite resources. We want to live life on this beautiful planet, which doesn’t belong to the callous profit whores who idolize you. We want to get rid of the suppressive climate that you have created so that we can embrace our very own Wonderwall. The one envisioned, over 2000 years ago, by the first long-haired homeless community-organizing anti-slut-shaming middle eastern Jew.
Space Utopian (An inhabitant of a beautiful world full of people, waiting to be offended by something.)