by John Rohn Hall
Underlings like you and I are raised on a steady diet of lies and misinformation from birth. As young children, we are told tall tales by trusted adults. Tales of Santa Claus, The Tooth Fairy, and The Easter Bunny dance in our vulnerable little heads, and we believe without question. Why not? The rewards are great. Presents under a tree, cash under our pillows, chocolate bunnies, and smiles. Mindless faith equals sweet rewards. Of course our parents know that they’re blatant liars, but they’re just continuing the tradition. To spill the beans about Santa Claus to an innocent child is akin to kicking a puppy or shoving an old lady into oncoming traffic. Despicable. The lies must go on. Truth has no value in this society. Capitalism feeds on falsification and fairy tales. Santa Claus, as we know him, was invented by a Coca Cola employee.
[dropcap]P[/dropcap]eople who take the pledge and sell themselves to the Military become simply part of the most ferocious and violent killing machine in history. We shower them with thanks for their service, when we should, instead, forgive them, for they know not what they do. It’s never as it seems, Bubba.
And so as adults, we readily and unquestioningly accept nearly every lie thrown at us, learning that doing so insures us a place of acceptance in society. Gradually, as the lies of childhood are cast aside, new, mature versions are embraced. Organized, institutional, man-made religions promise us eternal bliss in exchange for groveling prayer and cash donations. A crucifix, crescent moon & star, or Star of David dangles from our necks, so strangers can tell which team we’re on, and whether they should look at us, speak to us, bomb us, or do business with us. We gladly accept far-fetched tales of saviors who walk on water, turn that water to wine, and arise from the dead. Tales which rival stories of a fat, bearded man delivering presents from a flying reindeer-driven sleigh in the middle of winter. Tall tales with a mature theme for adults seeking the bliss of comfortable, childish lies.
MAIN IMAGE: The unclassifiable rebel, Hunter S Thompson.
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