Not too many people worship the cow anymore. A damn shame too, because even though we render their flesh to
suit our every whim and fancy—for food, for work, for clothing, and on—we’d rather worship effigies and other weird nonsense from which
arbitrary blessings and meaningless hopes are supposed to arise but never do. We in the west are the products of Plato, grown stale and cold under
thousands of years of Aristotelean sophistry. Like Christian theology has always taught us, believe in your ideas, have faith in your notions, put
your ideal before everything else, including the earth. “Why?”—we might ask if we weren’t too self absorbed to take a moment to do
so—“Why would we worship an idea that has given us nothing, while a cow, more than an idea, a real pulsing living thing an infinite times more
special and an infinite amount more valuable, who to this day gives us real actual sacrifice, gets no more than a second thought?”
Hold up a Bible next to a cow...what would a Christian burn first? Put a pile of money next to a cow...what would a capitalist burn first? What kind
of lofty illusion floats in these heads that leads them to believe these piles of paper, each piece affixed with some abstract notion of value,
carries more worth than a being of the Earth? Ask any idealist and you’ll get their answer if they haven’t declared it already. They follow
something; something they’ve carried with them for a while; something they’ve considered, and judge as necessary to maintain their solipsism and
comfort away from the brute sensual world, their idol—their
ideal.
At least some cultures still revere our bovine friends; and the gentle creature, ever proud and docile beneath its burden, might even be treated like
a saint. Rightfully so in my opinion. If I had my way, there would be vast cow churches and statues of golden cows in front of which we would drop to
our knees in religious enthusiasm and beg for their forgiveness every time we use their flesh to hold up our pants. Maybe it’s a good thing I
don’t have my way. But no such reverence of the animal is found in the so-called “civilized” cultures whatsoever; and although we find reverence
in their skin every time we use their very flesh to adorn us, and although we feast on their muscles which adorn our Big Macs, we could care less
about them because we’re too busy caring about ourselves, and we have taken every step to disassociate with this fine animal in order to forget this
one-sided friendship, and in turn, to forget how much they mean to us. Like what every idealism declares: "turn your back on everything but
yourself—everything outside of your consciousness, your god, is nothing".
If there is one thing that our religious tendencies have done to prohibit the advancement of the human race, it was to make their idealism more holy
and sacred than real things, and to put faith in no more than a pile of rhetoric, while the physical, what they call in a pejorative fashion
“materialism”, or “the flesh”, often associated with such ideas as greed, death and satan, the very reality that their spirits, gods and their
idols are always too afraid to ever show their face within, is forgotten and marginalized. They worship idols over, say, a great tree, as if their
little symbols fashioned and distorted into some obscene likeness of some obscene story, wasn’t completely arbitrary and insignificant in comparison
to one leaf of a tree. One could make an idol out of any object and achieve the same effect as long as it was formed into symbol that has long since
been branded into the human psych. It is certain that people in the distant future will worship Coke bottles and wear Ford emblems around their neck.
But from a standpoint outside of the typical Platonic indoctrination of western culture, what can be seen from this view is that, in some strange
twist of reason, the idealists value
untruth instead of truth, or what they are
not over what they are, believing themselves to be
angels or spirits or souls engaged in some meaningless mental costume party on Earth, while their fleshy dress that they so haphazardly wear, is
relegated to cold, dumb, lifeless matter in their cold, dumb, lifeless ideas.
This is the end result of the prevailing idealism up until now: to worship and concern oneself with the abstract over the concrete, the spirit over
the flesh, the universal over the particular, mind over matter, the idea over the manifest, the one over the many, that which doesn’t exist over
that which does, all to maintain some strange platonic narrative at whatever cost—even at the cost of life. The Inquisition, the Crusades, every
conquest of peoples, every act of bigotry and racism and tyranny, every war, has been carried out on the principle that a notion takes precedence over
real things, that “freedom”, “democracy”, “communism”, “a pure race”, “God’s people”, or whatever euphemism they use to disguise
the facts, and all ideas once thought up one time, is cause for murder and rampage, genocide and revolution. The holocaust wouldn’t have happened if
some scorned little nazi idealist didn’t come up with an irrational idea based on his own insecurity regarding purely a priori assumptions about
other human beings. The inquisition wouldn’t have happened if some ancient rhetorician and priest took it upon himself to condemn people he has
never met. Genocide would not occur if those of an idealist mindset didn’t imagine their pure utopian fantasy to be of higher value than the very
real and valuable beings he must walk over to attain it. The caste system wouldn’t exist if some Brahmin priests didn’t perpetuate some false
ideal of purity on entire peoples they’ve never once met. Witch hunts, imperialism, racism, sexism, eugenics, genocide, class division, religious
persecution—all fostered and perpetuated by delusion, perpetuated by idealism, the idolatry of ideas, which might never have occurred if actual
value was derived from actual things and actual occurrences.
You want that new leather belt, I know. It looks particularly well with a dark suit, and black leather shoes, which undoubtedly makes you appear
successful. Buy your pre-packaged meat, pre-ground, or cut methodically into steaks, because hey, you’re tired, you’ve had a long day, and nothing
beats a steak. Sit on your leather lazy-boy and fill up your Jimmy Choo purses and gorge yourself on yogurt and ice-cream and cheese. At last, once
you’ve finally found a moment of introspection, don’t forget to pay your respects to whom you should honor most—your gods.
Thanks for reading,
LesMisedit on 13-6-2014 by LesMisanthrope because: ..