Originally Posted by
JetBlackII
Well my friend; this is the crux of the problem, and why I've chided you about bias before... a man can be an island unto himself; but in society and especially one that is to function properly? It takes a village.
Making one unto an island or hiding in the personally constructed bubble; is simply a safe spot on a hill to view the battle point and condemn with daming fingers while feeling superior and above those on the ground gnashing their teeth and testing their metal.
Real kings and leaders of men; did not sit at such paleful heights upon a well groomed steed, giddy at the "pawns" that live, fight and die for them below. They led the charge with a fierce proud banner to clash against those that wished to destroy such peace and prosperity that all constantly worked for, in their kingdom out of greed and desire to have what they had... instead of hold court and learn how to acheive it with peace and understanding.
Those kings and leaders of men; were not concerned about their personal loss of life, they knew that even if they were to fall... those left victorious would return and embrace those that fell as their very own families and be taken care of. No matter the station in life? This is the heart of true society, from king to vagrant pauper lingering outside the gate wishing entry... both and all in between; prided themselves of their station, in the service of one family (each other).
Those sitting on horses; in arrogant bias; or born to a station of such... no matter what it is they have obtained; has been by selfish means as the fruits and labors of others wash up bloody and bruised onto their shores... but with a station of selfish greed in their hearts... all they do is spread bias and corruption to maintain their unworthy station above other men.
Tell me; which pie tastes better? The one purchased from the faceless and nameless... to be enjoyed hidden in a hedge like Johnny Cash with his infamous cake? Or the one, where you know who and were the apples were picked, the fields that grew and the people that threshed the grain for the dough, knowing the traveling trader that brings in the salt and sugar and news from afar? The baker that procured and fired those ingredients in their ovens... either shop, or loved one at home?
One pie is enjoyed to the fullest knowing it took a village from the one that tended the tree for it to bear fruit; all the way to the one harnessing fire in the oven in which it baked? or the one on the outside ignorant and uncaring of all of this community, snatching them from windowsills?
There is a choice of either mode in a free society; the shameful part has been being led into ruin by people pointing from hilltop horses where to live fight and die and the station is always under hoof... instead of leading the charge. This is why the imagery of Bush junior in a flight suit doing cos-play was so powerful an image and why so many embraced him...
False idol of truth none the less; but an image powerful enough; to touch on a long forgotten ideal... that he and those like him are leading to a better future instead of the reality of that they are really trying to create and perpetuate; from positions of privy and bias... instead of the very equality that knows and respects that it takes a village.
If someone is not a voice of the village; for whom is it they speak? Tis certainly not you or I... laying down our arms or guffing a huff of discontent; is simply yet another bubble of separation growing fruit of bias ignorant of the chain that feeds them... just the same as those in our contempt. So how are we... when holding bias any different in the reflection of their deeds; if the castle walls are not our bodies? The rivers, streams, and moats not our blood, the trees, grass, and crops not the hair on our bodies? and the people that make all of this happen together... not our very heart, and the proper care and maintenance thereof not our very mind?
Want to be an island unto oneself in a village? Pirates have a special place to walk in order to get there rather easily... it's called the fucking plank, and well it's up to that island of man to either; start floating and be an island unto himself... or learn to fucking swim and hope communing with the fishes means: them listening with their scaly ears with pity to his plea; that one so ill equipt... has decided to dwell in the water with them... and not instead pluck him with their jagged mouths, as he has done to others.