Sometimes I wish my life had been more like Forrest Gump’s. You know, just show up and stuff happens.
I did show up, but, I was two doors down when I shoulda been two doors up. When I got there the room was empty. It never occurred to me I was in the wrong room.
I suppose a lot of people feel this way. So, I did the only thing I could think of, I built my own room and threw my own party. I’m not much of a carpenter so the room was out of plum and square and a bit rickety. I don’t know that many people so the party was like a Hillary Clinton rally, not many showed up and most of those that did were the catering staff.
I tried this and I tried that. I threw some stuff at the wall and nothing stuck.
I could never make any sense of this place called Earth, this world Man made for himself. I don’t mean the creation, I mean what Man did with creation. It just don’t make no sense to me.
Money has never been very important to me, just the lack of it. But now, especially now, money seems to be the only thing people strive for. It is as if they were in quicksand and money is the only rope with which to pull themselves out.
I’m not all that good at making money. I have observed that to make a lot of it requires a certain amount of dishonesty and a heaping helping of callousness. I’m not very good at either one of those things.
Working for someone else is not an option for me because I know this thing we call government has no authority to require me to fill out forms just to get a job. Employers don’t know this, and if they do, don’t want to rock the boat. It’s sad really. They don’t know what statutes apply to them and which don’t because some accountant or two bit lawyer is advising them to go with the program or the almighty power of government will come down on them with the wrath of Thor.
They buy into fear. They believe that some men are more powerful than they are, and so they go along to get along.
I don’t buy it. I can’t. It ain’t in me. I can’t dig up a rock that’s not there. I can’t pull something off the shelf that wasn’t there to begin with.
I have been trying for years to figure out how this world is put together so that I might be able to navigate it a little better, but the more I learn about it the less sense it makes. It might be pretty simple. It looks like there is a small group of “people” that wants to rule, have power over the rest. The people over whom they want to rule either don’t know this is going on or don’t care. Some of them who do know, don’t know what to do about it.
It looks like most of the problems we face are created by people competing for power. They know that in order to have power they have to convince people who don’t want power that they have some divine right to that power. They have to convince the rest that they are uniquely qualified to tell people how to live. That they have the answers people are looking for. And, that they should be rewarded for taking the bull by the horns. We should pay them for the sacrifices they make for the greater good. It’s quite a racket, eh?
The group is small, but, not that small, this group of would be kings. And it is composed of a few subgroups. The world is now embroiled in a game of thrones. It is one subgroup competing against a few others for the whole enchilada. Ultimately, they need our consent, mostly because we outnumber them. So, the lies and the propaganda are being flung around like shit in a monkey fight.
These people have created a world, a vision of reality uniquely theirs and they have convinced the rest of us that their version is the only one possible. After all, we live in a complex society, they say, so do it our way and everything will run smoothly. Just move along, there’s nothing to see here.
These people know that most people on the planet love the warm, moist smell of the herd (I heard that somewhere). They know that most will go along with the rest of the herd so they fence us in and tell us the open range on the other side of the fence is fraught with danger. There be monsters there. Lions, and tigers and bears, OH MY! That guy over there, the one that is trying to jump the fence, he’s bear food, so don’t follow him FOR GOD’S SAKE!
Most believe this lie. I don’t.
So I got to thinkin’, maybe I’m from another planet. Zircon 12, perhaps. We have two moons there. It’s lovely in the fall, I tell myself. It’s all just a mistake. Maybe they dropped a few of us off so that the spaceship could limp to the nearest galactic truck stop for repairs. It’s just taken a little longer than we thought it would, right? They’ll be back shortly, right?
I hope so because I don’t belong here anymore than a fish belongs on bicycle ( I heard that somewhere), or a cat belongs in a rocking chair showroom ( I heard that somewhere, too).
I’m no Forrest Gump. I don’t have that kind of luck. Or maybe it’s some kind of inherent knack for bumbling into things here, on Earth, I’m not sure.
I wonder if I can turn a cellphone and an aluminum foil lined umbrella into some kind of galactic telephone. Hmmmmm.