So that He Should Not Have Vainly Burned In other parts of the world, burning oneself has been an extremely effective, riveting, form of protest. It sends tidal waves of shock and impatience through subjugated populations. There are places where passion, spirituality and morality are valued higher than sanity. Before most of them were swallowed up by the Western global nightmare, it was not uncommon for poets and writers and artists to rule in places that are now just Third-World war machines, run by businessmen and their mafia-style hitmen, installed by us or employed by one of our corporations. I was looking at various comments and no one is really shocked here in America™. There’s a bunch of people tying it into the political jabber and the various hate-filled religious dogmas of our time. I was not shocked by it. I’ve watched alleged beheadings and all kinds of other mind pollution. Remember “Faces of Death”? The “Hey Man, Nice Shot” guy. There’s all kinds of that shit on the “Internets.” The permanence of death seems to mean so much more to us than our fleeting lives. We avoid it; we inflict it. We don’t need to go to war anymore. There is enough death and destruction and horror and fear inside our own brains to destroy many globes. We could crush them in the angry constricted pit of our gut. Maybe the only one who was shocked was the man who burned himself. Maybe he felt the release of whatever it is yearning to escape from inside us. He certainly felt the burn and it was not like the idle discomfort of our malnourished, overfilled stomachs and non-acted-upon discontent. It was freedom from everything except the moment. It was perfect. Not to us — to us, it’s still batshit; don’t go burning yourselves up because we need you — but to him, everything in his life led up to the revolution, his revolution. He didn’t have to hurt anybody. He just had to revolt. He burned down the most sacred, the holiest of all temples, the house of his existence’s governance, as if it were nothing but a living effigy and he accepted the fate with the discipline that a straw man would have practiced. He suffered the violence of its tyranny — the fierce suffering he endured cannot be imagined — but he was finally free, being in the world fully and consciously while being somewhere altogether different at the same time. And by drawing out the horrors of his regime, we saw them for their treachery right in our public eye. I wonder what will finally lead us to our revolution. I wonder what it will look like to the stunned onlookers, how it will be portrayed. I am sure we face immense suffering but also unworldly redemption. Freedom. Let’s face it, our scorching often comes at the trials of facing life. We must douse ourselves in love and passion and compassion and light a match.
Posted on: Sat, 05 Oct 2013 19:28:52 +0000
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