Orwellian

Quarter of eleven.

The rain continues. It was 38 degrees when I ventured out to the market for the daily foodstuffs. Once there, I ran into Lisa the hair stylist who used to work for Karen. She said she was on her way to work and asked me if I was ready for the holiday. I answered that I don’t do much for Christmas and let the matter drop. But I had already told Heather I would play music with my church on Christmas Eve, and that’s something, I guess. It’s kind of ridiculous when people try to dictate to me my own worldview as if they were right. Christianity is one way out of many of looking at reality, not the only one. We are all discouraged from using our brains for ourselves, and I find this very offensive. It seems to be a growing trend in the United States to defer all judgment to a spiritual leader or whatever; someone who does your thinking for you when we ought to be capable of doing that on our own. It’s a sort of mental dictatorship. We’re being bullied by the Church and we don’t even realize it. People work at their jobs and are told to keep their mouths shut. If you have a problem, you’re supposed to see your spiritual leader for the solution. It’s beginning to look like a George Orwell novel. Even my iPad tries to put words in my mouth. 

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