"Formal" plan/thesis for my book
Here is something that bothers me:
We are sheep. All of us - you, me - all of us. We are us - that won't change. But we don't act like us. We have movies, television shows, advertisements, novels, and above all, we have a government to tell us what to do and what to feel and what to think. The crazy part is this: we actually listen, and we bark on cue, and we follow along nonchalantly at the heel, drifting on the tide of ideas from pop-culture and the media that our not necessarily our own. And we feel the need to comply with the government's orders and doctrines. Why not? If we resist or protest, what good will come of it? I'll tell you what - the suits will point and laugh at you until tears spray from their eyes. It seems that the people who run this country and the world are just not fit to do it. And the irony is this; that none of us are.
So we sit back, relaxing on the waves of society’s protocol. Don't you see? We could move so much faster. “But why?” you ask. Simple. We gain nothing from lying on our backs. No, not a thing. That is, nothing at all except for mental dystrophy - the weakening of our minds that will not allow us to take a single step forward of our own free ambition. We must think for ourselves!
I want to make a difference with this quiet protest so that penguins with false noses and moustaches, who are just too shallow-minded, too obstinately caught up in their own webs, too out of touch with humanity, to not be able to recognize it as what it is - as rebellion.
This is a protest made of human communication at its rawest form - words and the pictures that are made from them, symbols and their importance to the mental benefit of man, and the seeds of ideas that can take any form (in growth) that the reader cultivates them into within the many gardens of their mind.
Hopefully these ideas will not wither and die. They must grow tall and plentiful if they are to block the nourishing light of the sun from the malevolent weeds that seek only destruction.
* * *
I have just turned seventeen. And it seems the movies were wrong. I don’t feel “different” or “funny” as a growing man. The only thing that has changed in these seventeen years is the world. I have simply adapted to fit in with it. Lately though, I have felt like breaking the flow, turning around and marching straight up-river. Enough is enough.
Every muscle in my body cries to be worked harder, every mental fiber strains to be stretched further, my entire being so urgently pleas for the progress in society that is needed if we are to break free of our weeds of war, of ignorance, and of conformity.
We are sheep. All of us - you, me - all of us. We are us - that won't change. But we don't act like us. We have movies, television shows, advertisements, novels, and above all, we have a government to tell us what to do and what to feel and what to think. The crazy part is this: we actually listen, and we bark on cue, and we follow along nonchalantly at the heel, drifting on the tide of ideas from pop-culture and the media that our not necessarily our own. And we feel the need to comply with the government's orders and doctrines. Why not? If we resist or protest, what good will come of it? I'll tell you what - the suits will point and laugh at you until tears spray from their eyes. It seems that the people who run this country and the world are just not fit to do it. And the irony is this; that none of us are.
So we sit back, relaxing on the waves of society’s protocol. Don't you see? We could move so much faster. “But why?” you ask. Simple. We gain nothing from lying on our backs. No, not a thing. That is, nothing at all except for mental dystrophy - the weakening of our minds that will not allow us to take a single step forward of our own free ambition. We must think for ourselves!
I want to make a difference with this quiet protest so that penguins with false noses and moustaches, who are just too shallow-minded, too obstinately caught up in their own webs, too out of touch with humanity, to not be able to recognize it as what it is - as rebellion.
This is a protest made of human communication at its rawest form - words and the pictures that are made from them, symbols and their importance to the mental benefit of man, and the seeds of ideas that can take any form (in growth) that the reader cultivates them into within the many gardens of their mind.
Hopefully these ideas will not wither and die. They must grow tall and plentiful if they are to block the nourishing light of the sun from the malevolent weeds that seek only destruction.
* * *
I have just turned seventeen. And it seems the movies were wrong. I don’t feel “different” or “funny” as a growing man. The only thing that has changed in these seventeen years is the world. I have simply adapted to fit in with it. Lately though, I have felt like breaking the flow, turning around and marching straight up-river. Enough is enough.
Every muscle in my body cries to be worked harder, every mental fiber strains to be stretched further, my entire being so urgently pleas for the progress in society that is needed if we are to break free of our weeds of war, of ignorance, and of conformity.