The Saddest Song Ever Written & The Myth of Becoming
TThere is no shame in being deceived. There is no shame in being fooled by evil men, or by a decadent society. There is no shame in believing in a lie that we have been told since before we could even speak; a lie inextricably woven throughout our families, and our social circle's; a lie that has corrupted politics, religion, philosophy, and our entire educational system. But it is very shameful to know of a great deception, and either through fear, or indifference, to remain silent. And so this I have written.
A great and destructive lie is the lie of "becoming". Since we were little children, we have been told by our parents, our teachers, our peers, and the media, that we must "become" a somebody. This is usually articulated in the following manner, or variations thereof:
"It is important for us to get a good education, so that we can be (become) somebody when we grow up."
This is the sentiment that has destroyed, or marginalized the lives of billions of people since before the dawn of the 20th century. And what are they becoming? What do they set out to become? The majority who attend colleges, universities, and technical schools invest their time and energy into becoming a cog in the capitalist wheel. They are given a choice of choosing among a finite group of occupations, or professions. Among those professions they choose the one that they feel will be the most rewarding: personally and financially. And so, many mistakenly believe that in America we decide our own vocation. But this is not completely true; only to a certain extent.
A Kind Master
We can understand that during the antebellum, a "kind" master may have given a slave the choice of working in a particular field, working in or around the master's house, working with his friends, or what was left of his family. The slave may have even been able to choose what day of the week he would prefer to enjoy time off (if such a thing even existed). The slave may also have been able to choose the cabin that he wished to live in. But in spite of all of these imagined choices, the slave would have still been a slave; a man or woman with no free will, and no self-determination.
It is much the same today, except the American people are experiencing a "kinder gentler" form of perpetual servitude. But it is still a form of slavery, no matter how we slice it. Of course, a citizen of the United States has the freedom to follow the beat of his, or her own drummer. We can leave the reservation whenever we choose. But there is a price, and a punishment for exercising such self-determination. That punishment comes in the form of poverty, homelessness, and even death, usually by way of suicide. This is the caveat that keeps the majority in line, and in step with the staus quo.
But it is not necessary for a human being to become anything at all. Even before the day we are born, at the point of conception, we become "a somebody". Our "becoming" is complete on that particular day. All that is necessary for a man or woman to do is to refine who they already are; to perfect what God has already created, and made manifest in the material world..
Some will argue that this is only semantics, and that when I suggest that we only need to refine who we already are, that I am fundamentally expressing the same idea as "becoming a somebody". But I must strongly disagree. The human being is greatly influenced, not only by words themselves, but also by the context in which words are received, as well as the rate and length of repitition. The old adage, "Sticks and stones may break my bones ..." is perhaps a well intentioned, and useful form of optimism, but overall, it simply is not true. A word can cause a man to commit violent acts. A word can cause a man to kill himself. A word can destroy a man's self-esteem. A word can make a man believe that the truth is a lie, or that a lie is worth living for.
Somebody vs Nobody
For an individual to be convinced that it is important for them to "become" a somebody, they must first be convinced that they are a nobody. It has been said that a slave who doesn't know he is a slave will not seek his freedom, since he falsely believes he is already free. Likewise, a young man or woman who already believe that they are somebody, will not feel a need to become something they already are! Instead, they will follow their own path and refine the somebody God has already created, instead of going down the path of materialism prescribed by society, and thus becoming a strawman. But this kind of mindset is not useful to the status quo. Since the system only offers a finite amount of professions, or occupations, all of which are geared toward maintaining and perpetuating the system itself, the young citizen is made to feel that they are a failure if they do not fit in. If they cannot find the motivation to participate in the system, or if they have tried and failed in their effort to "become a somebody", it only follows that many will see themselves as a nobody. Of course they will, because the opposite of a somebody is a nobody.
What I have just expressed should clearly demonstrate that the distinction I have made is not merely a matter of semantics. We must be careful in choosing our words. Now look at the following sentences. You will see that mine is more intelligent, more useful, more accurate, and ultimately more positive:
What the world has told you:
"It is important for you to get an education so that you can be somebody when you grow up".
What wrenchBiscuit told you:
"It is important to educate and refine the somebody that you already are".
My statement is the superior statement. It is superior because it is not conditional. My statement does not leave the young person to feel like a failure, should they not be able, or willing to participate in the system: because the hand of God has moved them in a different direction, because of circumstances beyond their control, or even because of their own mistakes. My statement informs that each of us was born a somebody, and a somebody will always be a somebody. A somebody will always have the option to refine who they are, no matter what obstacles may be thrown in their path, or what circumstances they may have to endure.
Remembering The Image of God
I will further clarify my perspective by sharing a story:
From the early spring of 1980 to the spring of 1981, I was a sailor stationed on the island of Guam. My father had helped me purchase a new car in 1978, and I was able to have my car shipped to the island from Long Beach Calif.. This was a courtesy provided to servicemen by the U.S. Navy. It was a 1978 Grand Prix: gold in color with a white Landau roof. It was a very sporty, and comfortable car, and I spent many hours enjoying the tropical scenery as I cruised around the island.
On occasion I would see a man walking down the side of the road, in or near the city of Agana. He appeared to be a middle-aged man. His skin was of the darkest ebony, and he was very tall and skinny. He always wore sandals; a tunic, and a turban, both of an off white color. He also used a long walking stick that was as tall as himself.
I remember being puzzled by this man. The heat in Guam can be very oppressive, as it is near the equator. The weather is consistently hot, with very little change in the temperature throughout the year. As I passed him by, riding in my comfortable car with the air conditioning on; music blaring from my state of the art stereo speakers, I remember feeling superior; that my life was better than his. Overall my thoughts were condescending. I remember thinking that I was glad that I was me; the man riding in the nice shiny automobile, instead of the man walking along the dusty road; dripping sweat beneath the hot tropical sun. But these were only the thoughts of a foolish young man. Time has been generous, and has allowed me to see that in those days, I was a young fool living in a world of fiction. Time has now revealed that what I saw walking along the roadside was not merely a man, but truly the image of God. I was the one to be pitied. I was the one who believed in the fiction of becoming, when each day I was only "becoming" further away from myself; only chasing an illusion.
A Somebody: Living In The Real World
There is much more to tell but I will not tell it today. Suffice it to say, since my time in Guam, I have learned how to live in the real world; not the so-called real world of men, which is only an illusory, transitory world. No, I am living in the real world; the world that cannot be defined or contained within imaginary borders.. This is the world that John the Baptist lived in; the world in which he spent his precious days wandering in the wilderness. This is the world that Vincent Van Gogh refused to let go of, and so was bound to suffer. This is the world that caused Nate Turner to rise up in righteous fury, and it is the world that John Brown sacrificed his life for at Harpers Ferry. But on this point the reader should not mistake my meaning. My intent is not a comparison of character, courage, or accomplishments. It is only to illustrate that I too, have chosen to follow a narrow path.
Today I walk upon a wire, with nothing below to break the fall. I have been sorely abandoned by blood, and those I have counted as friends. I have lately been well reminded that many men revel in the misfortune of others, while even more are mesmerized,and preoccupied by consumerism, and trivial pursuits. However, let it be known that I have no regrets in following the path I have chosen. I am an artist, and it is right for me to suffer for my art. If I am to die in this poverty then so be it. If I must pay the price for refusing to be bound by comfort and convenience, then let the price be paid in full.
But I do not share this intimate detail with the reader in search of sympathy or support. The purpose of my revelation is to express solidarity with those among you who have begun to catch glimpses of the real world, and to illustrate that my conclusions are based upon my own true experiences. Most importantly, I want to caution the reader that following your own path will not necessarily lead you to happiness here in this world. On the contrary, It can easily lead to the pain, suffering, and hardship that I have experienced for nearly 8 years. But here is the good news: Happiness is not necessarily the most important thing.
Free Will and Self-Determination are worth whatever unhappiness we must endure. For over 30 years I have pursued my vocation, and fulfilled my own purpose; not the purposes of a kidnapper and a thief. And what is my vocation? I am sure many will find this quite bizarre, but I am not concerned with the many, and so I will reveal my vocation.
My True Vocation
Shortly after returning to the mainland from Guam, I discovered my true vocation. It is not a vocation that you will find offered at any Technical Institute, Junior College , or University. My vocation was to become a traveling singer/songwriter/musician of the late 20th,and early 21st century. My vocation included becoming a great writer of songs who would receive little or no recognition, and no monetary reward for his efforts. This is because it is simply not possible to understand the reality of an artist who struggles for a lifetime, unless you become that artist, and then struggle for a lifetime! The superior science dictates that the observer, the seeker of knowledge. must also become the subject.
My vocation included living longer than all of those I have loved, watching them die, and then immortalizing them in song. And if the reader has not yet concluded that grief, poverty, and the muse have driven me to madness, perhaps they will believe it now: My vocation also includes writing the saddest song that has ever been written. I have worked on this composition for many years, and it will be completed on the day that I die.
But this is not a song that mortal men will ever listen to or sing. The song I speak of spans an entire human lifetime, and this is the type of song that only an immortal being would attempt to listen to in it's entirety. In fact, the song includes every second, and every minute of my life. And who can speak to me of love, and who can speak to me of heaven, when I am an authority on both? I say it is the saddest song ever written, for after each verse there is an ending. But that is only from a worldly perspective. Without the ending of each verse, it is the most beautiful song I have ever heard. And so through the transition of death, I will carry my beautiful song into the world of veridical spirit. Others there will listen, but I will get to listen too. And I will listen to every second and every minute. And I will hear her laugh, and I will see him shout. But in the world of spirit, the ending of a verse is not so very sad. Like an old phonograph record, when the needle gets to the end, I will put it back to the beginning. Again, and again, and again. And so I will spend an eternity, and this song I have written, of this lifetime, on this Earth, will be my greatest treasure.
Throughout this essay you have seen the faces of young children. These images represent the future generations of young beautiful faces that this evil system is waiting to devour,to enslave, and to corrupt; a system that will deceive them into becoming a cog in a perpetual wheel of servitude; a system that will addict them to materialism, and turn them into consumers; an evil system that will have them deny their own potential in order to fulfill the greedy, and materialistic vision of a ruling elite. All of these children, those that are here now and those yet to be, have their own vocation, and their own path to follow. God has written this into their hearts. And In the final analysis, it doesn't matter whether an individual chooses a commercially viable vocation or not. All that matters is God's plan for each individual. We are not bound to have consideration for evil men, or the evil systems they create. Every man, woman, and child is special, and we were all born "a somebody"; not to be, or to become what we are not, but to refine God's miraculous work, and to complete this heavenly Masterpiece.
© 2015 Ronnie wrenchBiscuit