I wonder what our world would look like if we hadn't been jabbing and feeding babies and adults with poisons for the last 75 years. How much smarter and healthier? Incalcuable.
First grade in school was a blur for me. Why had I suddenly lost days of play in open spaces to be confined with other inmates my age to sterile rooms where we had to sit in straight rows looking straight ahead for hours on end like they'd never end, punctuated by bells to which we were to jump to another bore of a chore (except for recess!)? Who was this adult stranger to whom our attention was to be directed, on pain of discipline and punishment, and why? Why was I having to pledge allegiance to a flag at the start of every day or memorize such things as 2+2=4 and the capitol, I mean capital of the state of Washington is Olympia but Washington, D.C. is the capital of the nation of the United States, and blah, blah, blah? These and so many questions remained unanswered as I kept sitting at my desk just doing drudgery day by day, even under siege to homework at night to reinforce there was no escape, until I settled down, numb and dumb, to the dissociated state of affairs that was now my life.
Second grade was when I woke back up. I remember like it was yesterday sitting behind a student ridiculed again as always by most other students, with teacher's silent approval, and while not joining in myself feeling nothing but shame for not saying or doing something to show my disapproval. I vowed to myself not to be complicit like that again. Thereafter, I started speaking up more, which made for a reputation as a troublemaker, eventually leading to my second lesson in how I wanted to live and who I wanted to be. I was called to the principal's office one day and, on suspicion as the likely culprit, accused of an act of vandalism I did not commit. But surrounded by adults standing over me, I confessed! Whatever momentary relief from the intimidation that might have brought me was succeeded by days of kicking myself, figuratively, for being so stupid. I vowed not to submit again to authorities like those at school whenever they prove to be, as they routinely do, the biggest bullies lording their judgments over others.
Taking the side of the powerless against the powerful has been a lesson I've had to learn over and again. After all, socialization into larger systems of power over people, where 2+2=5, is what skooling's largely about. But if we'd learn to fail to make the grade for advancing in the ranks of abuse, we very well might lie a lot less to ourselves as well as others that we're authentically living. Maybe then with such presence as comes with freedom from alienation we'd have a lot more to share.
You might like this:
https://ranprieur.com/readings/preconquest.html
Preconquest peoples do not lie and don't understand lying. ALL civilizations lie.
bluntness IMO is being honest. Most people prefer the sweet treatment and lies, rather then hear the truth.
I had a twisted boss decades ago who loved to play hot and cold with people in order to create confusion.
One day he asked me "how are you doing" and I said "not that good, family issues".
It froze him and he turned to something else.
I asked him "how are you doing" and he tried to ignore me.
I asked again pretending like he didn't hear me.
Then he stuttered and said "I'm ok I guess".
Lol, he stayed away from me for a while after that.
Sarcasm is such shit. It was originally meant to be used to mess with jerky people.
When it's used to communicate with friends and family, it just sows confusion.
I wonder what our world would look like if we hadn't been jabbing and feeding babies and adults with poisons for the last 75 years. How much smarter and healthier? Incalcuable.
Spock from Star Trek would have agreed with you.
First grade in school was a blur for me. Why had I suddenly lost days of play in open spaces to be confined with other inmates my age to sterile rooms where we had to sit in straight rows looking straight ahead for hours on end like they'd never end, punctuated by bells to which we were to jump to another bore of a chore (except for recess!)? Who was this adult stranger to whom our attention was to be directed, on pain of discipline and punishment, and why? Why was I having to pledge allegiance to a flag at the start of every day or memorize such things as 2+2=4 and the capitol, I mean capital of the state of Washington is Olympia but Washington, D.C. is the capital of the nation of the United States, and blah, blah, blah? These and so many questions remained unanswered as I kept sitting at my desk just doing drudgery day by day, even under siege to homework at night to reinforce there was no escape, until I settled down, numb and dumb, to the dissociated state of affairs that was now my life.
Second grade was when I woke back up. I remember like it was yesterday sitting behind a student ridiculed again as always by most other students, with teacher's silent approval, and while not joining in myself feeling nothing but shame for not saying or doing something to show my disapproval. I vowed to myself not to be complicit like that again. Thereafter, I started speaking up more, which made for a reputation as a troublemaker, eventually leading to my second lesson in how I wanted to live and who I wanted to be. I was called to the principal's office one day and, on suspicion as the likely culprit, accused of an act of vandalism I did not commit. But surrounded by adults standing over me, I confessed! Whatever momentary relief from the intimidation that might have brought me was succeeded by days of kicking myself, figuratively, for being so stupid. I vowed not to submit again to authorities like those at school whenever they prove to be, as they routinely do, the biggest bullies lording their judgments over others.
Taking the side of the powerless against the powerful has been a lesson I've had to learn over and again. After all, socialization into larger systems of power over people, where 2+2=5, is what skooling's largely about. But if we'd learn to fail to make the grade for advancing in the ranks of abuse, we very well might lie a lot less to ourselves as well as others that we're authentically living. Maybe then with such presence as comes with freedom from alienation we'd have a lot more to share.
Wouldn’t it be grand?
Yep Yep Yep -- it's a commitment.
No lies detected. 😇
(I'm gonna share this on my Substack very soon - alongside something I wrote about the culture of lying.)