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30 years

Posted Nov 06 2009 12:00am

I turned 30 years old recently. I swing between feeling 17 and 60 on various days.

So on this not so momentous occasion I am going to do a little run down of the last 30 years, quickly.

Born in house full of people. Started school age 2 ½. Changed countries 12 times, residences 15 times, 8 schools, 1 university, 3 continents, countless friends.

Call it what you will, professional immigrant, exile, I have never felt I can call any place my own. I have still not decided if this is a bad feeling. It is just a fact of my life on this earth.

As I have grown in mind and a sense of self, I feel as if I have been imprisoned in a speeding train. There is no time to make sense of what is going on because there has been a numbness of the senses akin to what you feel when on such a fast moving vehicle.

With every migration I have become a little more dispossessed. The dispossessed are a dangerous animal. They have nothing to lose. They fit really well in to the social fabric and have no power to change its course, even if they cared enough to want to.

Your immediate environment is often like an extension of yourself. Your home, your land, your roots. Human beings are not designed to live in a constantly moving environment. The old nomadic people moved as communities. However that is not the case with millions of people like me. We will not be dying in the bed we were born in because it no longer exists. Our locality has been taken away and we are enslaved by the developing world. We get a little bit of wealth and think that now we must be better off because we no longer know what it means to possess anything. It started long before my father decided to become a professional immigrant and unknowingly passed that legacy on to us. Drifting as it were like flotsam, driven by the desire to fulfil bread and butter needs. It began with his ancestors when they were uprooted along with millions being deceived by some ideology that violent revolution would somehow free you. Freedom is not and will never be attained in this manner.

Do you consider yourself a free person? Most people in the developed world would say yes. They would say they are free, to choose, to do as they please, to become whatever they want and practice whatever religion and so on. I don’t know about other people, but I am not free. Neither is anyone else I know. We are a generation of dependents.

You are a jobholder. You work for a big corporation. At the end of the month you get your paycheck. This handing of money has absolutely no connection with what you actually do for this collective. It should not be mistaken for possession or wealth, because you never owned it. You were just given this wealth as a loan so you may go out there and spend it on some perishable commodities. You never make or do anything whole. You only do bits of things, repetitively, thanks to massive division of labour. Your family, who depend on your livelihood, have nothing to do with what you do all day. You cannot pass this “job” on to them; they have no participation in it. You are not sowing any seeds, or ploughing any land, you are not there from the start to the end. You are not even a cog in a machine because a cog is important, without it the machine will break. But not this machine. This machine will keep going with or without you. When you work all your life you will die and you will be replaced. You have no real legacy. In fact in the current environment a jobholder even the most highly paid are under a constant sense of being totally replaceable.

You are judged on your economic profitability and professional achievements and a country on its efficiency for utilizing humans and producing social wealth.

(It is different for the self-employed, but this is not economically effective for the current process of collectivism. The days of a lot of small companies and businesses are going. Bigger men are swallowing the smaller men).

Enjoy this funny cartoon mocking the current state of labor and human resources in the middle east.

Your civil liberties are also fast diminishing. You need to be told what to do. Otherwise it is assumed you will behave like an irresponsible child or even an imbecile. If there were no drink driving laws you would be driving around drunk, if there were no cell phone laws you would make the decision to drive and talk on your mobile and so on. Slowly over time you hand more and more of your liberty to the increasingly powerful State. The State will take care of you when you are old, sick, alone, jobless, disabled and so on. It will reprimand and punish you when you are not behaving as a human being should. Slowly you start to forget how a human being is to behave at all except to follow rules and regulations set by another set of more powerful people.

In fact you are no different than the defenceless slave who depends on his kindly master. What if one day master changes his mind and does not wish to be so kind anymore? You live under the assumption that just because super powers have more wealth, nuclear weapons, out of the kindness of their hearts they will never use them against you. Your optimism ignores the basics of human nature. The old slave faced death if he tried to escape. The modern slave faces poverty and humiliation.
There is no escape. The walls are closing in and unlike even the slave of olden times, we cannot just hop on a boat and sail away to a free land. There is nowhere left to go.

People argue endlessly about religion and compare it to slavery to a doctrine. How is modern man's current situation so different? Just the God's have changed.

Man only has one master and He is God and the only freedom I see for myself is in striving to live as God intended. Unsure if this is even possible anymore. The moment you enslave yourself to any other entity except God, be it your pursuit for wealth, power, a family, that moment you lose your real freedom. This is the dilemma or crisis of modern man.

So here I am, my life shaped by decisions that were made (some for me, some by me) under all the above assumptions. 30 years old.

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