Showing posts with label Planet Earth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Planet Earth. Show all posts

Thursday, July 12, 2007

I am mightily pissed off.


I am furious. They burned mountain Parnitha (the last forest near Athens) to a crisp, together with thousands of animals; deer, birds, tortoises. Anything that did not manage to escape (and we all know tortoises can’t run) was incinerated. 40,000 to 50,000 square acres of forest are now ashes due to arson. It virtually stabs me in the heart. They treat this planet, Gaia, as if their great great grandfathers had a contact with God himself and he gave it to them as a playground. Or rather, they treat her as an expendable whore, to fuck and use in every desirable way before killing her. This is the place your children and your children’s children will live on, you bloody fuckwits. It’s a loan from them, not yours to do as you please. 

Isn’t it funny, how uncaring people are total breeding machines, producing children in the same way other people produce farts (and devoting the exact same amount of time raising them, hence more robots walking this planet), while conscious people think twice about having children? Why bring a child here in this world? Why give birth amidst the ashes of a post-apocalyptic landscape? Show these children what? Take them where? Teach them what? When all the animals are gone, there will be no-one left to teach us unconditional love. When the last tree is gone, I hope the waves rise like the ancient Leviathan of myth and drown us all. Fish will come to swim under the ceilings of Chapel Sistine and inside Louvre; our houses will be populated by mermaids. Perhaps when this comes to pass there will be a new start, with no humans anywhere in sight. Perhaps dolphins will learn to walk. Perhaps not. In any case, it would be more appropriate for them to inherit this poor planet. It’s only us, humans, that take away what we can’t replace, and burn down that which doesn’t belong to us. It’s only us that open our way through reality with brutal force, and send quality of life to hell for our petty plans and egos. No animal ever does that. 

I swear, the first villa that I see built on Parnitha, I’ll bomb it myself, and impale its owner in the garden on a very high stake. Very post-modern and appropriate.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Rage

Qana, 30th of July, 2006

The child that died by your bombs is real. It was alive and breathing just a moment ago. It was probably laughing too, before the war began. Till you took it all away.

The child that died by your bombs could be your child. All that separates your safe reality from the ultimate terror is a twist of luck. And luck doesn’t last forever.

The child that died by your bombs is your child, the one you never had. Because you were not ready for it. Because you could not afford to. Because you chose to live your life without the burden of responsibility for now. That child will not get to live one.

The child that died was killed by all of us. By you. By me. By thinking it’s none of our business. By believing we are not affected. By equating distance with safety and disengagement. By turning our heads away. By choosing to watch something more pleasant on our TV sets.

That child was our child. It was our hope for the future. It could be the one to save humanity from cancer, or a great artist whose genius would have changed our lives forever. It could be the one to make your son or daughter happy. It could be the one to make your day. Now it never will.

The child that died today was you. It was me. It was the image of a tiny me, full of potential, never expecting the sun today would caress my face for the very last time.

Enjoy your glory. Enjoy your victory. Revel in your self-righteousness. And then return home to be loving fathers and mothers to your children, feeling safe. To caress them with those very hands that pushed the buttons which made the other parents mourn. Cause you are doing the right thing. You are making the world a better place. For your beloved children. Until someone kills them.

We all live under the same sky

We breathe the same air

We watch the same stars

Anything that happens under this sky is our business

Every man, woman and child that cries in pain and terror is my lost brother and sister. Is the friend I haven’t met. Is MY fucking problem. Till nobody cries from hunger, terror or violence anymore. Till we all have an equal chance to life and happiness.I may not live to see this but I’ll struggle and shout for it as long as there is light within my soul.

Closing, I would like to dedicate this to a friend of mine, who only recently gave birth to a little boy. This is for her child, for all children. I will therefore use her favorite quote to close: “Be careful, cause you are turning the world into what you see it.”