be my friend


The image was stir-stick for her bucket of ideas.

One was where this salesman frightened clients by saying all humans were evil, “and only we can save you from a brutal death, just trade your property and privacy and our group will protect you.” 

How did that idea sell so well, humanity treated as fleas, I love how black cuts the white.

What a coincidence that people raised in these groups for hundreds of years are now afraid of each other. What a coincidence that the friendships and relationships and sibling connections in 2015 rely on the idea to stay together against all those cockroaches no matter whether your friend or lover or brother is dead wrong: believe in your group with blind faith, and align yourself with their mistakes.

Me against you. You against me. Everything about you is wrong. Me with them against you and all yours because we’re afraid, now.  

There was nobody left in the gallery – they had turned off the lights as a polite way of saying get out and yet she had not left.

They had scoffed at her shoes: she wasn’t one of those white-haired-middle-class-white-women who had attacked art in groups: the way that curves cut sharp mattered: that the images provided an alternative to the popular idea that sameness was valuable, mattered: art mattered because it allowed her to view an alternative to what had been sold, and recycled, to the eighty millionth repetition of eighty million screens in the place where she lived.

Art mattered because people roamed in groups of twos and threes, with or without uniform, saying the same things and attacking for the same reasons, as millions had before: out of fear. The potential of their individual personalities stunted by allowing old ideas to harden inside themselves like cement.

She said: Turn the lights on.

word by Liam Lachance, whose novel, Blu Swag, is his first

colour, “Waiting #196,” by Brett Amory

From the author: “The painting to the right made me think about how people hurt each other to protect their own groups, recruited to them in the first place by exploiting their fear: members of a group only focus on the happiness of those told to be ‘like us:’ the lives of the rest don’t matter.

The result is that we lose our unique personalities and fail as families.

We fail as friends, missing each other as we pass by lives, our empathy blinded by a paranoid tunnel vision.

Using fear to recruit is used to distract from real problems, sure – it also results in people attacking each other AND never gaining satisfaction from that attack- let alone those who are attacked; never doing anything of value when copying what millions of others have been instructed to do, as front line supporters of the group; resulting in the crippling reluctance to criticize actions of those within our assigned groups, aligning all of the members with ideas that may have long expired, a blind faith which stunts our growth as human beings, a species, I believe, whose potential will never be tapped through the organized exploitation of fear.

Author: Word and Colour

words inspired by colour

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