who broke off his own tusk to write the Mahabharata (according to some). Lord of success, and he who resides over my makeshift shrine of the week. I'm sure if I were Hindi I might be imbued with the power of the symbolism of your face outside of what I have researched on wikipedia, but you have come to me, as a gift given n thankful adoration for some earrings I made. I'm very much attached to you, sir, even though you don't belong to me. I have never worshipped, never learned, the Ramayana does not live inside my actions and haunt my ego the way good old Christianity does for us white people. But I do enjoy the look of you. You truly have that god look--how I expect a God to be portrayed, that fantastic brilliance. How I would want to be if I were a God, having God battles, writing God words, tossing blessings like seeds onto my people, possessing infinite love.
Should we not aspire to Godliness? Do we really have to indulge in this joke of a lifestyle till we blow our fool selves up? the men in power are like those trailer trash kids with drunk dads that tie rockets to kittens. So bereft of emotion they've become sociopaths. Is this as far as we aspire to as Beings? Really? I'm revolted.
The patriarchal system of enslaving nations for greed is over. Hollywood's pathetic talentless stock of producers is over. Replacing quality craftsmanship with Pavlovian marketing is over. Attempting to detach ourselves from the very earth that bore us and teaches us about our nature IS OVER. I cannot participate in this disgusting farce any longer. Enjoy your descent into oblivion, suckers, I hope you have enough stuff. The rest of us with a sense of morality are on our way to being Gods, and the rest of you can follow whatever your fear dictates.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
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