The Price on Your Head



I have to live where I live.  The logistics of life dictate that.  It’s a beautiful place, don’t get me wrong but for a long time I’ve felt that it needs its physical beauty to mask the ugliness that festers from deep within its core. People make a place so its character will reflect them and indeed, the facade of architectural beauty here masks any image of its foundation on slavery and dealing that has damaged much in our world but that didn’t matter as it brought wealth to a few.  We all benefit from that.  And so that became the norm, permeating every level of our society as each became desperate for a slice of the pie.  No mean place.

There have been real examples of altruism throughout time but eventually these just set the benchmark for the perception of goodness to become part of the lie too.  It seems to be genuinely believed that if you say you follow a belief system , then that exempts you from actually having to do so, or to bother with any of its doctrines covering personal behaviour.

A sweeping generalisation, I know, but take a look around, it’s everywhere.  It’s even in the places I’d love to escape to, to get away from here, where the force of the bully has become its reputation more deservedly than anywhere else I know of (yet).  James Christie gave the best description of this place and its people in his book ‘Dear Miss Landau’.

But in this place I have also met some of the best people I could ever hope to meet.  People who changed my feelings about life, from whom I have learned enough to help me to cope for a little bit longer and whose own struggles and triumphs have provided me with inspiration and hope.  On a daily basis and without fuss or noise they demonstrate the values of self worth sought so desperately by the masses that shove them aside in their clamour to maintain their part of the lie, oblivious to what they have missed.

Or maybe they don’t miss it.  Perhaps they are just so wrapped up in living the lie that the truth of reality is too much of a threat to every tangible fact of their being.  They’ve spent so much time and effort sucking up and fawning and destroying any real worth they ever had – just to replace it with the common perception of worth.  The trappings; the position; the voice.  And yet, in the background is the echo of reality and truth haunting them as they jump into the second hand car they could afford because they sacrificed a little bit of self worth or they enter the home on which they just manage to keep scraping up the payments because they dumped on someone they used to like.

There is a price on the head of people like me, who speak up, who speak out, who face the difficult realities of life with honesty.  It’s not something I do because I have chosen to stand up for what is right as a moral crusader – because I’m not – I’m a flawed human being like anyone else.  My flaw is to be human and to have tried to work my way through life figuring out why everything is so contradictory, so counter-productive, so wasteful, so corrupt.  My diagnosis of Asperger Syndrome has been late but important.  I can now recognise why my brand of direct truth is such a threat to those around me who know they are long past being able to retrieve the self worth they sacrificed for the perception of worth as we allow our society to dictate.

They cannot afford to face the truth I speak. They will use my diagnosis and the stress it and they have caused me to brand me as unreliable.  I have to just sit back and observe this.  Well, I have learned not to rely on any of them whatever care and support service they provide, whatever rights or value based organisation they claim to represent.  They will take my fee and represent what is convenient to them – not me.  I trusted them to do their job because I would, wouldn’t I?

The price on the head of each of these people would bring tears to the eyes of a banker.  First, it reflects the price of choosing to devalue themselves by letting go of a little bit of goodness here, a little bit of worth there; their honesty and integrity as they reassess the truth that they can say with a justification that sits within the accepted parameters of everyone else doing the same, so they’d better fall into line or face the consequences.  And that’s the top of the slippery slope.  That is the measure of them as an individual.  It denotes their worth – their value as an individual and they throw all that away because they do not have it within them to be that individual they were born to be.  They can only be the created form that sits among the faceless crowd not putting anything at risk by already having thrown it away.

These are your employers, your union representatives, you councillors, your MPs, your Government as chosen by you to represent what you believe is right.  These people are your food manufacturers, your financial advisers, your neighbours, your family, the people who will decide what will happen to you should you ever not be able to do so yourself.

What price is on your head?

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