The moment you read this sentence, you are not the same. I'm not here to tell you you're a product as much as a toilet duck cleaner is a product. I'm not here to tell you you're not responsible for how you look. When your father squirted his DNA into your mother, the sperm cell that you once were didn't have choice but to swim and wriggle eggward in a marathon against five hundred million other sperm cells. It's not that you won the race. It's just that everybody else lost. You didn't choose that eye color, that height, that gender. I'm not here to tell you you never had the choice to be born or aborted. Who ever gave you the freedom to decide to exist? You didn't. I'm not here to tell you you never decided where to be born, in which house, in what country, to whose parents, in what century. I'm not here to tell you your body is entirely yours. That each cell of you, you own it for seven years and is shed off on your pillowcase, on the sidewalk, on the bathroom floor, and is reunited back with Mother Earth. I'm not here to tell you you're not responsible for what you think, say, and act. That soap you rubbed on your skin this morning, that underwear you picked from your closet, that breakfast you shoveled into your mouth, somebody else made those choices for you long before you even decided on them. I'm not here to tell you you don't have a choice. It's just that all of you is a collaborative effort.

I'm not here to preach against consumerism, the government, education, and religion. I'm not here to say that consumer culture is crap. The point of living is to be rich, powerful, and gorgeous. I'm not supposed to say that the government has made you an animal instead of a civilized person. We need the government to prevent us from nuking each other. I'm not supposed to tell you to drop out of school because you'll survive either way. You need school to get a diploma to get a job to be rich and powerful and gorgeous which is the point of your life. I can't even say that you were born an atheist and was baptized against your will. You need religion to comfort you against the black hole of stark nothingness beyond death. I'm warning you, this is not an accurate description of what the world really is. This isn't a manual on how to be free. I'm not saying that you continue reading this because this won't in any way enlighten you about how you should live your life. You should not be interested in this because Freedom is not really interesting. I am no teacher, no guru, no spiritual giant like Jesus Christ. Call me Nobody. I am just as metaphysical as the word Nothing, or Zero.

Let's begin by smashing the television with a baseball bat. The television is teeming with evil spirits. These evil spirits you call actors and broadcasters and other sorts of puppets invade your homes, bore into your skull, and condition you into thinking that you are weak, helpless, inferior, incomplete, and ugly. You need television to replace your boring life with its hand-me-down, secondhand, pseudolife experience. You need this milk to improve your rusty memory. You need this soap to lighten your brown skin. You need this black spray paint to cover your bald spot. You need this razor to epilate unwanted body hair. You need this product not because they care about you but because they need your money. The moment you wreck your television, you realize you are free from your desire to be strong, powerful, superior, complete, and beautiful. It will take some time before you realize you're perfectly fine the way you already are. You also realize you are bored. That's alright, boredom is a normal thing. Boredom is the basic ingredient to being free.

Now what do you do. Let's go into your room and dispose things with no use or have sentimental value to you. Get a giant box and throw in those souvenirs, photos, and stamps you collected from traveling all over the world. The truth is, nobody cares where you've been and what proof you have for being there. Toss in the clothes and shoes you no longer use, the stacks of books you've read or books you bought but have no plan reading, those film and music collection of CDs and DVDs you could've gotten digitally instead, those toys from your childhood, those exercise equipments whose fat-burning mechanism you could've sweated from hiking mountains or running around with children; and other things that unnecessarily clutter your life. If you just imagine the millions of people who possess these same things, the corporations and factories that created these things, and all the people involved who toiled every day to produce these things, they've all contributed to suck in nature's resource to provide you these garbage. I am no environmentalist, no scientist, no economist, but all energy, time, space, money, and effort invested into these you and everybody else could've invested in something more important.

I'm not saying you should be a monk. Renouncing material possessions and spending a lifetime cracking the mysteries behind some imaginary deity is in itself slavery of thought. I'm not saying organized religion is just some twenty-first century superstition. That without an afterlife, you might reconsider that an earthly life is all you have. Freedom is cutting all the strings these things hold you back, form circles underneath your eye, and exhaust you instead of giving you more energy. Pets, for instance, tie you down and require money. If there's anywhere they belong, it's either out in the wild or in your refrigerator, cut up and chilled for cooking. It's the same thing with working on a desk job you don't enjoy, or living with a handsome but boring partner when you could've married your bestfriend. The same thing with owning a mansion whose space wastes your life planning, building, cleaning, and repairing. I'm not saying you surrender your luxuries and desire for wealth, power, and beauty. All I'm saying is being not rich, powerful, and gorgeous isn't so bad. If you think about it, civilization hasn't really made us any happier and more liberated than we were as nomads.

Word Up

Michael Harris
10.03.10 - 13:06

Oh vagina side of things, a side of this, a side of that, let me taste an experience, everything within my grasp, reach for, perceive, and plead for the need to gorge myself on your endless bounty. Breath in, breath out, resuscitate, capitulate, ever mocking in ignorance the path to fulfill, satiate, smile, burp, fart, all in gratitude of my luck in being the number 1 cum to make it up the channel of love, and live in a rich and powerful country who's excuse to go on is wrapped up in the the collateral damage of generations of workers taught to bray and ask forgiveness and then go fuck there neighbors again.

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