you all make up rules and the fun never ends

A young woman, so she thinks, walks by. Rummaging in her purse, she decides on watermelon lipgloss. Primped and planned, artificial and sociably unfriendly, she swaggers by. Only brand-name laughter flows past her lips. I pause to think on mankind’s most plentiful luxury fabrication. God may have created Eve from the rib of Man, but it took nothing more than the mortal advertising industry to ultimately destroy her. Nay, she did herself in, a moth to the flame, a girl-child furiously racing after the extravagant lifestyle which has been dangled in front of her, and she compelled to pursue it.

As a male, this can’t help but leave an odd taste. A large part of me considers this mass manipulation of the female species unjust, that we have all surely “broken” them. The smaller, but considerably more vocal, portion of me offers only that we have her right where we want her. It’s horrible, blah, blah, et cetera. At the root of it, this girl-child is oppressed, yet continues to relish her role as a member of the Aguilera Youth even after society and the media – largely ruled by men, of course – come down on her for being imperfect. As if this were not enough, she actively berates, intimidates, and destroys those of her species that are not in line, and especially those that are below her on the pecking order in the Aguilera Youth. Instinct, I suppose, but part of me is content with the fact that the female species has been actively subverted ad infinitum by the male species. It’s an issue of control, of dominance. It’s an issue of so completely indoctrinating a species that not only do they not pine for change, but they cannot imagine what sort of shape that change would take.

Wild animals caged invariably develop neurotic behaviours and tendencies. Understandably, this can be applied to humans, despite our lack of being physically caged. Look around you. I see swathes of damaged people. It’s not in fashion to keep our daughters and wives in cages, so what better substitute than media, schools, and mandatory membership in the Aguilera Youth. Man does not need to exercise control when such control has been systematically bred into the female psyche. The control applies itself, mother to daughter, daughter to friend, friend to enemy. How does one deal with awakening to the realization that the cage is within? Don’t think feeling foolish will save you, your cage may be within, but this does not diminish its power. You will be made to stand in line. You don’t want to know what happens to those that don’t stand in line, do you? You will not like to hear of it.

You are born. You are told who you are and what you will do. You are told what you are worth. You are told what you will like, what you will listen to, and which newest Survivor or American Idol iteration you will enjoy and and consume voraciously. You will consume, oh, yes – you will consume. And in doing so, be consumed. You will contribute to the movement. You will be indoctrinated and in doing so, indoctrine others. It is exponential, I fear that it cannot be stopped, whilst hoping it will be stopped.

It’s a windy afternoon and the sun is on its way to setting. I suppose it will do so when it damn well pleases. Harsh light is cast everywhere, gentle forest green turns hues of gold while lines of light jut from between limbs. Yes, it is an ominous afternoon. Deep blue, nearly cloudless sky. A biting wind that only makes itself known in gusts. Yes, a very ominous afternoon, indeed. I feel as if the world will end at any moment. I cannot explain why. I think it might be the silence – only gently rustling trees provide distraction from the abyss of humanity. The end will be quiet, you know. It will be much like this afternoon, in fact. An azure blue sky sprinkled here and there with clouds. A setting sun. Harsh light. Sudden, gusting wind that can’t quite build up the nerve to be cold and instead settles on cool. A bird crows, does it sense the end? I realize that the park is now empty, deserted. So is the street. The houses may as well be. Our lipgloss toting vixen has moved on to bigger things than a mere park. I await the flash that is forever around the corner, never arriving. But it will today. I can feel it. It must. The severe light of the falling sun will be overwhelmed, mankind thumbing its nose as we surpass in brilliance (ha!) the sun that birthed us. Have you ever stood under the canopy of a tree and looked up? It is dizzying; delirious. Magnificent, tall… resilient. Yet they, too, will break in the end. I suppose everything will. The people seem to be breaking already. I sit down on a swing. Calmly I begin to propel myself higher and higher as the sun beckons.

Yes, this is the end.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
© 2004 Andrew Browne (abrowne AT telus DOT net)

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2004

Andrew Browne

Andrew Browne

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