Human History X

The following is also a review of American History X.

It’s always the same thing, isn’t it? While reading James King’s Finding Atlantis, a biographical tale of Olof Rudbeck’s superhuman efforts to investigate and prove that Scandinavia could have been the Atlantis mentioned by Plato, in a summary of his notes on why these ancients didn’t leave behind as much a mountain of literature as the Greeks [who, according to Rudbeck, came long after], he deduced that this society was enjoying such peace and tranquility that they saw no need to chronicle such times. And it’s true, history is just a bloody chronological list of conflicts and wars and disagreements and altercations and a general lack of consensus.

We always seem to find some reason to be pissed off don’t we? Back then it was political.
You belong to that country. You are my enemy.
Dammit, we all live on the same planet! We breathe the same air, we eat the same rice, we drink the same contaminated water someone’s probably peed in and a nod to cliche here, we all have red blood [unless of course you’re looking in the wrong place].

State, nationality, ideology, race, colour, religion, yeah sure we all say we want to live in an ideal society that looks past these things. And you protest about it. And then you go and bloody call yourself unique. If you’re unique, you can’t be like anyone else. If you’re unique, you are different. There are differencves. I thought you said you didn’t bloody want that? So why are we still filling in religion, gender and race in just about every official form? Just for show? A formality?

Look in a bloody dictionary.
You know what formality means? Formality means strictly cermonious. And then right below it, it says Form without substance.

Up yours.
No more. Not from me. The only thing that we are allowed to have individual control over is opinions and truth. And that’s all that’ll come out from me from now on. I don’t care anymore. I don’t care what you look like, I don’t care what your IQ is, I don’t care if you wear branded underwear, I don’t care if you’ve been convicted before, I don’t care what your weaknesses are, I don’t care what self-help groups you go to, I don’t care what you have to say that’s not directly related to objective truth or your opinion about it. And you shouldn’t care about mine either.

Which is funny, cos all these things are just words, but they become like labels. Brands for people, except you can be more than a million brands at once. But none of it is worth anything. It’s alll there just to create a bloody image in someone else’s head. For who? For what? Who the hell cares about anybody except themselves? Seriously.

“Life too short to be pissed off. It’s just not worth it.”

I’m not angry anymore. Just don’t care.

Dust Brothers – This Is Your Life from Fight Club OST

And you open the door and you step inside
Where inside our hearts
Now imagine your pain as a white ball of healing light
That’s right, your pain
The pain itself is a white ball of healing light
I don’t think so

This is your life, good to the last drop
Doesn’t get any better than this
This is your life and it’s ending one minute at a time

This isn’t a seminar, this isn’t a weekend retreat
Where you are now you can’t even imagine what the bottom will be like
Only after disaster can we be resurrected
It’s only after you’ve lost everything that you’re free to do anything
Nothing is static, everything is evolving, everything is falling apart

This is your life, this is your life, this is your life, this is your life
Doesn’t get any better than this
This is your life, this is your life, this is your life, this is your life
And it and it’s ending one-minute at a time

You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake
You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else
We are all part of the same compost heap
We are the all singing, all dancing, crap of the world

You are not your bank account
You are not the clothes you wear
You are not the contents of your wallet
You are not your bowel cancer
You are not your grande latte
You are not the car you drive
You are not your fucking khaki’s

You have to give up, you have to give up
You have to realize that someday you will die
Until you know that, you are useless

I say let me never be complete
I say may I never be content
I say deliver me from Swedish furniture
I say deliver me from clever arts
I say deliver me from clear skin and perfect teeth
I say you have to give up
I say evolve, and let the chips fall where they may

This is your life, this is your life, this is your life, this is your life
Doesn’t get any better than this
This is your life, this is your life, this is your life, this is your life
And it and it’s ending one-minute at a time

You have to give up, you have to give up
I want you to hit me as hard as you can
I want you to hit me as hard as you can

Welcome to Fight Club
If this is your first night, you have to fight

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