intransigence

To irk the ire of the intransigent, the irrelevant, the inconsequential - otherwise legends to themselves alone - is to play with futility and oneself. Save in this regard, that others might benefit equally the price of freedom from the imposition and infliction of: "Do as I say since I am God!"

There is no fear in God. Yet since time immemorial men have pretended behind masks of authority fearing everything. Ignorant that God is for all, not one life alone. Those who cannot create destroy.

It is my truth discovered racing the internal mirror maze formed of my fears, granite intransigence polished now dissolved; formulated by adaption to the unimaginative and lacking compassion who's harm of others their only entertainment, pleasure and truth.

"None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free." - Goethe

. . . those who pretend power seem children at play upon the hobby horse, rocking solitary in their bedroom otherwise stationary, in self stasis, onanist, their pleasure making our common good their providence; enslaving continents with their ideals. Office by election or extortion is for itself not for others, a force to bend all life weighted in chains. And they, in their turn, enslaved to the Masters of The Universe who own it all.

. . . or presume they do, for I, as mote or mite, float in a place beyond time, before and after it all conceptually, and would, by fate or desire, live here aware the march of seasons marginally where M sees it all majestically elevated for miles after miles these days and starry nights embracing us equally.

“God” being only a name for something felt and experienced; benign and friend and loving dance partner, the author of life in which this character speaks.

The march goes on, with or without me, in cell or grave, but humor besets me beyond the kin, kith and keep of those who sodomize my attention. Me a Betty Crocker in high heels with fishnet stockings, a broom in my posterior. Their indifference should be pitied, indifferent to their random rape. The contempt I feel for them greater than theirs for me; true for all authority self anointed or appointed by any means and/or measures.

No herder nor herd am I, free to be myself, no matter where or why, discovering always new ways.

"Only kings, presidents, editors, and people with tapeworms have the right to use the editorial "we." - Mark Twain

130310 07:46 intransigence

© 2013 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved