Crook and Orb

By: Gus Victoria

The Shepherd’s crook,

The monarch’s orb,

Noble gifts

Used as locks,

To heavy chains built

In darkness,

Paraded in light,

Proclaimed with glory,

Unmasked to shame,

By those unfit to wield.

Embraced by those

Quick to yield.

The Prophet and The Poet

By: Gus Victoria

The prophet speaks of fire and brimstone,

The tongue lashes the sinner’s soul

And shame is the mantle thrown

On a life unknown.

Yours a gentle hand in love extended

Embracing the thief,

Consoling the whore,

Counseling the heathen,

Yours a gentle heart is love expressed

In The Creation,

Not The Fall,

In the Wind

That moves the waters

That carve the mountains

That proclaim together

A humble majesty

Sublime in scope,

Unsurpassed in beauty.

Your prophets war

And your poets weep,

Your children murder

In your many names,

Your children search

Your many homes,

To proclaim a throne

And use in your name

The authority they give themselves

...and I weep.

Eagle on Cactus

By : Gus Victoria

Eagle on a cactus in splendor arrayed,

Harbinger of a future bright

After a past darkened in crimson shade,

Eyes dark and round

Melt an iron heart

To a flameless light

That burns ever bright

In longing beats

For an ideal lost

On the waves of fortune

In the path fate laid,

As a trap to the thinking soul

That in hubris would attempt

An escape from its dealt destiny

That in utmost clarity

Is seen and known as wrong,

The heart blazed another

Even more daring trail

That would immune be from failure,

If only equal measure of faith be given

For that is the rub,

Faith is currency rare,

And cannot be substituted for countenance faire.

Who Am I? (Voice in an Ocean)

By: Gus Victoria

Who am I? Why does my voice matter?

Does it?

I am one of many.

A drop in an ocean churning,

Lost in the spray of conflict,

Plowing the sea,

Forgotten on the shore,

An image in a mind

Eulogized, Half-remembered,

Tomorrow fully forgotten.

A spark snuffed in the bitter wind

That set naught aflame,

A hope beaten by time,

Despair rooted in reason.

Why do I speak?

My voice so small,

Carried for a moment,

Then forever destroyed,

They build monuments,

They write the myths

To believe in lies.

Deaf and blind

Covered in false glory

They thunder over all.

What is my voice?

What is yours?

The Great Chicken Sandwich War of 2012

They just want to protect marriage. And waffle fries on the side.

The first salvo has been fired in the great Chicken Sandwich War of 2012. Generally I pay little attention to slacktivism. Every week it seems there is a new cause to stand behind that is of the utmost importance and can be solved with a few tweets, statuses, or article shares. Angry arguments ensue with smarter people being quoted and misquoted constantly in a silly attempt to sway the other side and make them realize they are godless heathens for not agreeing with you. It’s a phenomenon of this generation and this highly connected society that increases in visibility what it decreases in relevance. To those of us that chose to think, read, and think again before replying to or engaging in any of the causes of the month the debates that are created are great, free entertainments.

Then there is this Chicken Sandwich War. A Christian president of a company that is well-known and indeed famous for its adherence to certain Christian principles (try getting a chicken sandwich on a Sunday) makes a statement in a religious media outlet that he opposes same-sex marriage. Such a predictable statement should have barely registered on the national news radar. Boycotts from the gay community and friends had been called months ago. I personally know many people who have not eaten there for a long time because of the company’s stance on the issue. That is their right as is the company’s to believe in any guiding principles they choose to for their enterprise. Well, until it begins to infringe upon the rights of others, which in a legal sense it has not yet done.

Unfortunately, shortly after the interview was widely disseminated this country lost its sanity. Instead of thinking like rational adults that hey a guy has a right to believe how he likes and I have a right to choose not to buy his products we instead devolved into a rabble of hate-spewing (often-entertaining) Neanderthals (no offense to any actual Neanderthals reading this).

Sadly, this is nothing new either. Politics entered the conversation and as it did the conversation changed tone. It became a battle of ideologies and then even that transcended the political realm to touch on the religious as well. Now to eat a chicken sandwich at this establishment was to protect free speech and the traditional family. None of which were or are actually in danger. Again, even at this point I was ready to watch and let the situation and the heated diatribes from either side cool off as sanity slowly returned. It always happened, that is the cycle of such things.

And then today. Chick-Fil-A appreciation day.

The response by those who ignorantly or willfully believe that a restaurant has become a political and ideological standing ground have turned it, in my mind, to the Fort Sumter of this insanity and in doing so have made a madness-induced delusion into a reality. The line in the sand has been drawn and slacktivism or not these people that supported Chick-Fil-A today have lost the protection they had in my eyes of rational, thinking, feeling human beings. To eat there because you had a craving is one thing. To eat there to consciously support outdated and dangerous ideas about homosexuality is completely another.

I was appalled as I saw many, many pictures of people posing for pictures with huge smiles on their faces, holding up their Chick-Fil-A bag and spewing some empty-headed nonsense about supporting “Christian values” or “protecting freedom of speech.” These pictures are openly mocking and deeply hurtful. They very nearly made me physically ill. Here it was no longer about a chicken sandwich. It was no longer about protecting your own point of view. No, now it was unmistakably about hate.

The first salvo has been fired. I suspect the other side will be creative in its response. It is true that in the end no one wins, but how can one remain silent? The “traditional family” is a nice sanitized myth, but the persecution of homosexuals is a very true, very painful reality.  

I Lie and Slowly We All Die - Theme Park Realizations

An American "Dream"

By: Gus Victoria

I lie for a living. Yes, that is what I do. And they aren’t even good lies! No, I perpetuate authorized lies in order to maintain an environment for intellectual Lilliputians that induce them to easily, willing and eagerly part with their hard-earned money. Not all are unwitting empty fools, some are knowing wise fools that enjoy their reconnection to a childhood cherished and never fully forgotten. I like these people. We get along. They are in the minority so I will not mention them anymore. It is enough to know they exist.

The grand majority of people I come in contact with make me wish I was instead raising sheep in New Zealand. They have been given a lie that they attach themselves to with such incredible vigor that it is impossible to shake them from it and force them to face a reality wholly unlike this “dream.” It is the American dream. The dream, the lie, that each of us is special. I spend my days perpetuating this myth and it eats at my soul. These people come from all around the world to be immersed in a land of wonder and fantasy. We must do a damn good job because this area is always a popular destination and a steady stream of visitors is a given we often take for granted.

I would have no problem with this fantasy, none whatsoever, if these people that come actually appreciated the experience for what it is. Instead they are so myopic in their own lives that they rarely enjoy the entirety of what is offered. It is the me-first-me-only mentality that was the core of the small hunter-gatherer clans of our distant past that forcefully imposes itself as the family goes about their day from one attraction to another.

 

We can make allowances that because they are on vacation they do not retain their full faculties. They are so excited to be here and experience such a sensory overload that it is natural that they may need a little help in making otherwise mundane connections. That’s what we are there for after all. Where is the bathroom? Which way is this? What time is that? Granted, I don’t begrudge anyone this information, but something disturbing has revealed itself over the years. Many of these people could not make these connections on their own back home. Our society has devolved into a shallow one of instant gratification that we, as a people, no longer recognize what is important and worse have jettisoned as unimportant those skills that might help us in that discernment. Why read a map when your GPS tells you? Why expand your vocabulary by reading when if it’s popular enough they will make a film about it? Why expand your mind by learning new things when it doesn’t directly affect your current or future job?

These are societal problems not theme park guest problems. It is only in the petri dish of these attractions that they are more profoundly seen and felt, but they exist outside the gates. That is the real tragedy. Not that people are enjoying their vacation, but that people are missing life. In times past these people would have been relegated to lower castes of society, but on a level playing field everyone suffers from the intellectual decay. There is little refuge when the idiot with a 3^rd grade reading level has the same political power as a post-grad professional. Everyone can vote, and everyone indeed can suffer from the ignorance of the masses.

My unhappiness at work is rooted in the stark realization recently that I am only adding to this dystopia. I lie. They believe. They smile. And slowly a part of me dies.