Hacksaw Harmoics

When one stops to goggle slack-jawed and bug-eyed at the realities of the world around them vis the sociopolitical climate and the more mundane (yet no less tame) complexities nascent to their tiny wedge of existence and the employment that allows it to function... one realizes that they would have been better served getting an Orange Julius and rolling over, tongue lolling in the dirt, until apathy and culturally-inspired brain damage set in. The deviously soul-depleting mannerisms of our corporate-ideology based employment regime drives us in turns to both better ourselves to be qualified for increasingly better compensated positions and to strive in abject futility to constantly find that one thing we all need: to get to the next level of pay-grade. If only I made x-amount more a month, I could afford useless-shit-Y that I've always wanted. No longer do we leave the safety and communal warmth of our enclosed and xenophobic tribal dwellings to venture among the forest primeval in hopes of somehow bringing down that large fanged beast that did rend our cousin limb from limb to gain some measure of revenge and face the long arduous task of dragging it back to the village to carve up and roast, thus feeding our tribe for another day. Costco has become our Forest Primeval. IKEA has become our Mecca. No longer do we thresh the long grains of our endless prairies to provide bread for our young and beer for our old. The time of the Hunter-Gatherer has, perhaps, past forever from our culture. What pride then is there in awakening to the buzz of an alarm before the sun has even shown its face to scape the stubble from your jowls and mousse your hair into position above a smart tie complimenting your slate shirt and charcoal slacks before commuting to a place wherein you will sacrifice all the light the day has to offer by appeasing managers and customers alike in that futile and never-ending ritual known as 'work'? Revel in your ability to buy things, my compatriots, for at the end of the day our potential for wanton consumerism is the only reward allowed us by the society we helped to create. Horde your useless knick-knackery, polish your dust-gathering shiny shit. Find what solace and meaning you can in your collectibles and contemporary ergonomic furniture.

Rebel, my friends. If you've any love of what you have left to give to a world that doesn't even know it's missing it, break free. Do something meaningful. Don't just react. Act.

Hojo Volente.