Rage Against the Machine

If only there was more time to read! Phew. Harder than ever before because there are “smelly little orthodoxies which are now contending for our souls.ā€ Orwell wrote that, I think. It’s bloody true, too. Poisonous doses of society’s holy trinity of conditioning, compromising, and obedience. It’s liberating to refuse outright. Sometimes I wonder who the fuck designed reality so that it is what it should not be. Who was the devil who cobbled together the idea that work, especially at a desk, would be the grand scheme, the liberating intoxicant for all mankind, enabling him to buy and work and slog away until the old sack of bones is ready for the barrow?

Just because a dubious structure works for the multitude, why must it be sanctified by a religion that dabbles in abstraction and intricate lies that works slowly on eroding the soul to obedience. Societies faux pretenses don’t enable an individual to be a citizen. I think there’s more life in a speck of dirt than there is in the moral certitudes that the social code dumps on us in cerecloth bagfuls. Resistance should be a moral virtue, not surrender.

And restraints should be for infants and lunatics.

I work 9 hours, therefore I am. Instead I should be out galvanizing my soul to life. This is the kind of hypocrisy I’m talking about. Religion preaches on and on from its rising mount that goodness is paramount to our survival and yet we are constantly as human beings displaying the opposite.

That’s why I can’t believe in this impersonal God who goes around bellowing up every bit of ash and dust to flame with indignation at us lesser folks who are burning with passions that are earthly and not always divine.

What do I learn by sitting here being irascible? I could be out in the world, running amok or sleeping in the shade of a dappled tree. I think it’s odd how we can allow ourselves to just flitter about in our risible pens of habitual patterns and call it a life when there’s a whole world to be explored.

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