fight! for freedom, the only thing that's right.
and fight for your self, your own happiness, your own peace.
fight for the only thing inside of you that's still uncorrupted,
that light that burns dimly in the corner, noticed by you on only the darkest of nights.
but i see that light in the corner. i see it, and i see your future in it.
i see all of our futures in these dimly burning lights which the dark and oppressive powers have all but extinguished. but they weren't able to fully extinguish it yet, were they?
and unfortunately for the power mongers, the money hungry lard lovers, the craven capitalists, we just showed up and we noticed your light in the corner,
and we're missionaries.
it's our job to try to get you to go pick up that dim oil lamp from the forgotten corner, and use it to light your way, until it becomes brighter and brighter and you start to see the world that was hidden from you all along.
as missionaries, we're here to rescue you from hell.
and hell is the place that we create when we're not free.
jesus wants to save you from hell.
which essentially means that jesus wants you to yell an outloud and irreverent "fuck you!" to the corporation, the institution, the ideas of morality and control and dominance and inequality and everything that our parents taught us were the highest ideals, but always tasted like diarrhea, though we didn't dare to say it.
and jesus wants us to live as if we have a reason to live.
busting capitalist shop windows and growing magical gardens and making love with everyone we know and eating foraged greens while singing liberation songs while sticking our heads out of the windows of fast-moving vehicles and drinking in the delicious air and living naked and arranging paint and pencil in nonsensical poetical arrangements and getting high as hell and writing stories and living a damn hard core story and trying to get ourselves killed in a way that tops even jesus - which is a little damn hard because he was fucking crucified and that's hard to get these days - but jesus wants us to die in a sweet way, naked and bloody, with the words freedom painted in our own red blood across the corporate landscape.
trust us, we're missionaries.
and how about those diarrhea morals from our dastardly deceived parents and pastors and everyone that tries to control us to make up for the inadequacies of their own lame and desperate life?
but diarrhea isn't sweet. technically... diarrhea tastes like shit!
and you don't have to stick with that shit. you can get up, stand up, right fucking now, and you can walk out. walk out of this hell that you have created by doing what morbid pastors and demented politicians told you was right. walk the fuck out of hell,
and let's start building some heaven.
cuz we're missionaries and we want to go to heaven.
i said we're fucking missionaries!
and goddammit, try and stop us if you dare, we're going to bloodyfucking heaven!