Do Not Offend

One should not offend, except in the service of freedom. Where is the border there? Oh, I forgot, you may also offend in the service of satire. Whoa, baby, in the service of satire? What you say? Can one serve satire? Oh, yes, my little porcupines, one can. Satire is such a flexible little beast… almost anything is allowed in the name of satire. Even the most tasteless things.
But I try not to be tasteless. Mostly. I might make fun of God, whichever God you prefer… but probably not to your face, out of common civility (or out of fear of being punched). Faced with you and your beliefs, I will not ridicule them. I might spar with you a little, if I am bored, but otherwise I will leave you in peace with your beliefs.. Actually I find gods quite nice, in their quaint little way.
The funny thing is, I still say „Jesus!“ when something surprises me or „oh my God!“ when I am shocked, and so on. I’ve grown up an atheist, but nevertheless I am woven in to the Christian net.
My Son is an atheist as well, but his religion teacher says he knows more about the Bible than any of his classmates. Yeah, so why is that, you fucking Christians? Because the atheists tend to think about it all, for Christ’s sake. Because they know a little bit about what stands in the fucking Bible, because they actually (well, some of them at least) read the fucking Bible, because they have actually thought about God, and what the existence of God, true or not, actually could mean. My son’s classmates say: I believe in God. But they probably haven’t spent a single thought on the subject. My son knows about God. He knows about many gods, Christian, Greek, Roman, Norse… he hasn’t learned much about the Eastern gods yet, but he will. If he wants to believe in whatever, so be it. He is free to choose.
If I seem offensive to some people, that’s fine. All I am doing is exercising my freedom of thought and expression. There are times when one has to be offensive, in order to rattle people out of their preconceptions, and that is what satire is about. When your freedom to be offensively satirical is curtailed by threat of reprisal or death, that is bad news for you and your society as a whole. It’s all part of intolerance, of trying to dictate what people must believe. In the end, we have a simple equation: satire = freedom.
Listening to Helter Skelter from the Beatles.

What is the Cost of Freedom?

Fifty bucks? No? Two hundred? C’mon, we’re talking about freedom here. Twenty-thousand? Face it, you wold give anything to be truly free. But you ain’t got the money. Need I say more?
It has come to my attention that I often use the term “need I say more?“. As if I expected you, the understanding reader, to understand a single fucking thing I write, as if you knew the connotations I am referring to, as if you knew… anything at all. Well, perhaps I just use it suggestively, to sort of force you to understand. Or, who knows, just to make you act as if you understand, to yourself, in your brain. Better than nothing. Do you understand what I am saying? Need I say more? Haha.
But I digress. What is freedom? Are you ever free? Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that you have those twenty-thousand buckaroos. What are you really buying? You are free. You can do anything now. Real freedom. Not just freedom from pain, from want, from repression… that’s all just props. Real freedom… you wouldn’t even know what to do with it. Real freedom is, if anything, in your head, and that you simply can not buy. But then again, you can not even imagine real freedom; the human mind is not capable of it, and wouldn’t want it if it was. How are you going to buy something you can’t even think? The coast of true freedom is your own humanity.
Brand New Cadillac from The Clash.

Fuck Everything

I’m all used up, and I’m all turned around. Panting, eyes bloodshot, goin’ down. Fuck work. Fuck taxes. Fuck you. Fuck countries, borders. Fuck it all. Fuck the god damned dentist. Fuck the law. Fuck me. Fuck politicians. They have no power over me. Cuz I’m goin’ down. Got no hold on me, cuz I got no hold on me. Lose hold of yourself, and you are lost to the world. No one can control you, unless you allow them to. It may be the most horrible form of freedom there is, but it is true freedom. What… what? What’d I do? Why are you looking at me like that? Did I do something that offended you? Or something disgusting? Is it that horrible, so horrible that you have to look at me like that? Is it something you’ve never done yourself, or never at least thought of doing? Have you truly never found yourself in my situation, or at least come close? Well, then, I feel sorry for you. You need to give yourself some slack, dude. Ease the reigns. You too can fuck everything. Merry New Year.

Your Life, Do You Like it Well?

You like the money? You like the holidays? But when they kick down your front door… well, you probably live in a country where they don’t do that sort of thing, don’t you? Like me. Not your front door. Freedom is something you take for granted. You don’t realize it is a privilege that someone once fought for. A privilege that may have to be fought for again at any time, a privilege that can be taken away, just like that. Lay your life on the line, baby. Better yet, make sure it don’t go that far.