This is about who I really am. Short version: I like to shoot my mouth off and sound smart and shit, and I think I am smart, but I'm not strong.
http://jp.youtube.com/watch?v=FmBfhC...eature=related
That's part 2 out of 3 of some random atheism advocacy thing of the sort that I listen to more or less constantly, in between sorties against the integrity of my liver of the sort I am engaged in as I type.
Toward the end of the video one of the hosts is taking the piss on some guy on account of he's convinced that some dog is psychically aware of when his master has left work for home. And yeah, I agree.. the guy is full of shit. I'm going to do myself a favor and not look the guy up, even though his name is given, because I know precisely what I'll find. It'll turn out that the guy has made some risible profession out of talking to animals using his magical powers or the gods only know what. He won't even have the decency to be a proper fraud. He'll be a genuine believer of the type that I laugh at, feel justified laughing at even now, and yet envy more than I will ever be able to express.
When I was a small child I had a dog with the very generic name, "Chance". I think my parents named her that because they picked her up at the pound shortly before she would have been put to "sleep". She was a grey-haired mutt, and she was afraid of fireworks. I held and calmed her on the 4th of July, and she laid sentinel by the side of my bed when I was sick. Those are some of my earliest memories. My first memory of tragedy, or melodrama, to head someone's attack off at the pass, is of the first day I went to junior high (which was as rough for me as for everybody else). Chance followed me to the bus stop, then chased the bus until it outpaced her. I watched through the back window and cried. I can't remember what I had for breakfast yesterday morning, but I remember that.
Chance is dead now. They put her down when she got sick, and I can't even remember whether I said goodbye before she was gone. Sooner or later you and I will be gone too. So yeah, life can be pretty horrifying. I do get it, you know - why you people invent these stories about how it'll all come out right in the end. And although I don't share your notion that for things to come out right in the end, it's necessary for some magical being to sort everything out, I can sort of see why you would go there. The only thing I'll never understand is why all the successful delusions, all the popular ones, must be the ones built up with the brick and mortar of fear and hate.
Why isn't it enough for people to feel like there's going to be some glorious resolution to the mystery of life? Why must it also be the case that everyone who has the nerve simply to not be a part of their little spiteful club must suffer infinitely? Why is it that the religions which make a habit of humping this poisonous idea are invariably the most popular around the world, while the fuzzy wuzzy Wiccans, spiritualists, newagers, and assorted insufficiently hateful people are always relegated to the sidelines?
Are humans actually that revolting?
I feel sick with guilt every single time I go out to damage the comforting world view some of you have built around yourselves. But I can't stop.
I fucking can't stop, because you people are doggishly enabling the status quo - this collossal afront to human dignity AKA "things as they are", in which the vicious glut themselves on credulity, in which the specter of violence reins supreme, in which competition, which is to say conflict, is enshrined as a central organizing principle of society, in which mass autocide is par for the course and the best thing most people can figure out in response is to retreat further within self-congratulatory jingoist trash thinking which perpetuates the same... fuck it. I could go on, but why?
In another universe... in a world not two shades darker, I'd be one of you. I'd be your prophet. So here you have Drake's admission and self-exposed vulnerability. If things were a choice between truth on the one hand, and hope and beauty on the other, I'd opt for hope and beauty, though I prize truth very much. But that just isn't the setup, is it? We don't live there. Where we live, escapism and illusion, religious political or otherwise, fall essentially without exception into two cateogries: the broadly irrelevant, and the basaly cruel.
Anyway, here's my question, since I feel like it's your world and not mine... since my entire life I've felt a very unwelcome visitor here. Why does the worst always win? Why does this world belong to the cruel, the hateful, the avaricious, the stupid, the violent? I hate humanity so much I can hardly breathe. And I wish I had been born less able to see.
Yep. This definitely belongs in the Whining subforum. Do I qualify as a real goth now?
P.S., please stop ripping each other to shreds over nothing. That shit is breaking my heart. You want to rip someone apart to feel better? Take me instead. It's all right here on my sleeve. Do your worst.
