Fallen Francis

His words; his mannerisms; his messages have grabbed the attention of billions. Among the unlettered arguments, encased in pseudo-science and cherry picked dogma, stands a figure that commands even a little of the attention of even the most staunch of the godless. His message was simple: love. The actions he committed to- genteel.

The world gave you their attention and their hearts. For the first time in history, the organization of Catholics was headed by a man who didn't completely manifest bitter ignorance and move the masses to his own agenda. For the first time in history, it seemed like one religion would begin to breaks it's cycle of retrogressing the society it inhabited.

However, it seems that religion has made an unsettling habit of retrogressing. In that great tradition, putting aside the inheritance of credulity, of taking a steep step back, Francis has now proclaimed that religion ought not to be interfered with. It was with this effect, that he stated insulting or ridiculing another's faith should be limited. His candid example- as a result of him insulting a friends mother, he deserved a punch in the face, as if extremists were that simple. They command the public's attention not with punches, my Pope, but my weapons. It would be a tad uncanny, albeit, we all hope that you would be personally terrified and more so disgusted that your friend put a gun to your head for what you say. 

It would seem that Francis is succumbing to Sharia law. Not enforced by the Muslims, but by the fanatics. Mr. Francis, you have given in to the terrorism of this theocratic encroachment. As the sheep of your church became moderated by secular values over the course of a couple hundred years, brainwashing of millions has occurred on the other side of the world. However, more scary than this violent froniter is the self-induced lobotomization the Vatican has issued on itself. Get out of the castle, my holiness, for the world does not thrive on the body of your messiah, and the majority of the people do not kneel, awaiting to be slain. Your days are over. Your church is untenable on all fronts and even your progressive values show for a secularization of the Vatican. 

The church is quickly crumbling; like quicksand under your feet. The opaque walls your business has erected are finding themselves cracked from the inside. The pillars of sacraments upon which your communion stands is defaced. The government, which was once your institution, has disintegrated, and with it the full aegis of freedom to do as one wishes. The world only hopes you continue to  lead your flock in the right direction. After all, you command a billion souls. It is necessary that every inhabitant be able to say what they say without the fear of being blown up. It is necessary that the couple billions you have influence over stand against the oppression of terrorism, rather than succumbing to it like you have. 

Pope Francis, you are the Vatican's last breath. You are their last shepard. Do not lead the flock into the caves of the extremists. They will not think twice to slaughtering them. There is no way you can take back your statements, but there is a way you can pull your church and the world out of further conflict. Do not be part of it, please.

Breathing Life Into Rocks

       Engaging reality is, quite indeed, a daunting and often intimidating prospect- one that offers the fruit of new experience and, more importantly, new thoughts. Extracting new information, a robust gesture, is the means by which we engage reality. That may be facing adversity head on; changing behaviors promptly to accommodate new beliefs or facts; or even trash beliefs once held dear. Each of the aforementioned engagements of reality are intrinsic and unique in each and every one of us. The methods by which we cope with difficult times; the difficulty of rationalizing a new behavior or belief; the nerve to say goodbye to an old and dear idea all slightly differ in each of us. Engaging reality is different with all of us- deciphering it is hardly a puzzle.

       Reality is a space we can traverse by employing our five senses and a host of feelings and emotions. Engaging the reality around us takes place subconsciously and manifests itself into some physical actions that, as a consequence of our subconscious, are sometimes done without thought. One needn't the explanation for the internal battles that we have all experienced, and are due to dance many times over with powerful, sometimes frightening prospects. The conventions of our mind has a somewhat annoying propensity to manifest itself into the reality we share with other human beings- its only avenue is the almighty hand.

       The hand, quite the spectacle of nature's power, also makes quite the spectacle to the other human beings around us, if one is not careful- and another knows how to watch. As mentioned earlier, engaging the space around us is inevitable, but also necessary. The hand is the mechanism by which we do just that. It has put together Star Wars, space shuttles, guns, cable TVs, iPhones, homes, but more importantly- who we are. How we interact with reality in the time we have to spare reflects our intellect and our emotional faculties. There was once a time when man pranced around hunting animals or scavenging plants. In between his responsibilities was that and spending time with his family. It would then, come to no surprise that an hour here and there in the day paved the way for a long, cold period of survival; in which man had no choice but stick with the same thing that worked to preserve his existence. Ameliorating our engagement with the space around us comes with the time to ruminate on it, and sometimes a physical manifestation of it may just get us out of the rut. I am, of course, talking about a rock. I am not, however, talking about those pesky garden pebbles that need sorting out of the dirt or the large, burly kind that one twists their sorry ankle on whilst walking. No, I'm talking about a rock, about the size of my fist, which actually resembles the dimensions of large apple, that could be crushed into smaller, sharper rocks. Or perhaps one could find an already sharp rock. Whatever the case may be, the suggestive action in this is that man did not step over the rock like other animals did, because their ability to rip apart reality resonates within their ability to engage it- but rather, they picked it up and decided that it should be of some grand use to them. Sorting out rocks out of your garden, as stupid and mundane as that sounds, is an engagement of reality unheard of in the animal kingdom! Twisting your ankle on those stupid blokes, perhaps has occurred here and there in the natural kingdom, however never has it been followed by the audible, yet comically angry remarks following. Some humans of the past millennial seem to have taken it upon themselves the power of nations, but have forgotten their power came from sticks and rocks. It is refreshingly humbling to remind oneself that the human existence lay on a thin thread, balancing between the power of fire and the power of mind. Teetering on this thread, lacking the competence of both humility and engagement, pave the way for a pernicious ignorance, cultivated on a mass scale. 

       It seems that many of our neighbors have resisted the push to challenge one's own reality. In their hands, one can almost unequivocally find a book of apparent infallibility or a fork posed to stab the dead carcass of some other sentient, now dead, being. When presented with new means by which to cope with the reality around us, they blow it off as casuistry, and replace it with their own. When the pernicious effects of tradition are illuminated, they deny to seeing their shadows. Breathing life into rocks was easier than this. The rock had no will to deny its disposition; it had no disposition. The simple, stupid rock, build grand architectural marvels as well as pave roads. It is better to have no disposition than to have one, stubborn and irrational one; the same of which tradition has lobotomized our friends for far too long. This is not a cry for brainwashing populations, but the opposite. Although discussion has yielded results, the fundamentalist still holds a bible in his hand, and occasional a gun in the other. There is still a huge population of humans who hold a fork in one hand, accompanied by a credit card in the other, that aren't aware that many children have as many things to hold in their hands as they have to wear.

       The mind is what the hands literally hold close to the heart. Give them a reason to put down those defenses, and they may be willing to accept some of what you have to say. One shouldn't attempt breathing their influence on sentient beings like we do on rocks- one should give them the tools at hand to breathe a new breathe of life. As one man said, "Be the change you want to see in the world." That cannot ring more truth than now, as we encourage those around us to drop their dogmas and traditions so they have free hands to interlock with every other.