Fall Fashion: The Fall From Grace

John Martin - Fallen Angels In Hell
John Martin – Fallen Angels In Hell

Authoritarians rely on the vicious passivity of the commoner. They understand how average humans embrace evil and love to excuse themselves by glibly stating, “Just doing my job.” Despite the humanitarian facade, undeserved power dissolves their integrity. The working classes historically allowed revolutionaries to replace the tyrants but time and time again, ushered in the same brand of tyranny. As long as the checks keep coming, the people will look away. The master and the slave complete one another. They both spiral down the cesspit of greed, lust, and ignorance. Pretenders are among them both as well. About every aristocrat and commoner alike believes they’re above average and that the world owes them recognition. Both master and slave wear the same smug look on their faces and adorn the same useless trinkets. Fashionable accessories are essential to this show. This is why the screen before your eyes told you not to touch that dial. Don’t go away because, “But wait! There’s more!” There is always more, but it’s only more lies. When humanity built the stage William Shakespeare spoke of, spouses became accessories, children became accessories, and neighbors became accessories. Before the grand deception, the parade, the fireworks, the big game, and the fickle fashion trends, we had it all. The Earth provided. The rivers were free of toxic sewage, and the air was free of strontium, barium, and aluminum. Our cooperation with one another was critical to our survival. Now our defining motto degraded into a weak rationalization—It’s just business.

We traded paradise for a mirage. We sailed into the islands inhabited by sirens; enchanted by their appearance, whether audible or visual, we became their prey. We pillage the Earth, but it’s just business. We economically and psychologically torture each other, but it’s just business. We see the land, the air, the water, the fire, the people, the plants and animals, and think to ourselves, how can it serve us? Can my accessory be over six feet tall and support my addiction to overspending? Otherwise, the accessory doesn’t fit. Also, can my accessory be my personal slave who fulfills my carnal desires? Otherwise, the accessory does not fit. Females extract resources, trade sex for status, and males cannot wait for females to cease their inane chatter and undress. Both sexes, both master and slave sprint on the cosmic wheel. The wheel, however, is locked into place. The faster the wheel goes, the more the master and slave congratulate themselves and each other. Despite glaring contributions from both sides, they secretly believe they alone are solely responsible. They celebrate their vision of progress, but the wheel goes nowhere. Their supposed wealth or material creations amount to a mountain of flaming garbage if the spirit cannot take responsibility for it. Everyone knows of the people in the very back of the pack. Let’s not pretend these people don’t exist as the wheel picks them up and drops them to the bottom. The pace grew too fast too soon.

Continue in this direction and sooner or later, the pace will outlast the most rapacious among us. The wheel will spin so fast it will carry the heap of gore and bone fragments all the way around. The leaders of the pack will have to outmaneuver this so called “collateral damage.” The illusion of progress and acumen spins the wheel faster and faster. Where are we going? We fall to the bottom of the wheel. At last, the ones still sprinting get buried by their mistakes. The fall began as we didn’t understand that true wealth resides in the spirit. Enough of the lies that Jesus was materially wealthy. These lies only serve to idolize the pompous upper class and the oligarchs themselves. Enough of the blatant idolatry, the foundation on which Hollywood, professional sports, and the music industry rests. Our logos, words, crucifixes, stages, cameras, and virtual life mean very little in comparison to spirit. Spirit matters. Matter spirits away. In this age, the insect worker pledges unwavering loyalty to the queen and her fiat currency, and who knows what remnant of honesty and integrity is still left. The bees beam with pride for contributing, from dawn to dusk, to society, but they don’t know how this story ends. The hive stays buzzing for no god. The hive doesn’t serve God.

The hive’s worth revolves around the queen, who is ultimately worthless to humanity. This is not to say the peasants will stay as barren, empty husks without the will and fortitude to return to a life devoted to God. The peasants repeatedly revolted against the corrupt megalomaniacs throughout the ages. They fought the popes, the priests, the kings, the queens, the czars, the emperors, and the vampiric aristocrats. Similar to the changing seasons, the revolutions against the tyrants spin us to the same spot where we initiated the revolt. Authoritarians do need to be toppled, but the workers keep working for and buying from the same corrupt outfits, the same corporations that work for the tyrants that work for greed and power. The problem lies in the fact that the peasants don’t replace tyrants with a system based on giving. This is why Jesus provides for all. If everyone gives, who is in need? Culling the population only is useful for a society entrenched in exploitation, manipulation and bogged down with the obsession over opulence and status. One must wonder whether the human species can be salvaged from the mess it made. Humans broke their toys and then prayed to God asking for new ones. When God didn’t answer, and rightfully so, humans fashioned the game of survival. Those who best feed the beast of corporate, crony capitalism wins. The grand prize for winning the game is death.