Reject the Conglomerate

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. She exited my roommate's space. He was in California spreading our gospel. This lady had with her a strategy for fighting the faithful and wore nothing but stilettos. Her name was Natta Orbus. In heels, she stood at five feet eleven inches and possessed blue black skin like mine. The face of an ebony doll, all of her beauty became manifest in her actions. She was coming out of my room to change in the treehouse we had constructed after we were pushed to the outskirts of the city, state, country, and world. Once the lights went out that night, we knew we had to act. We were armed with ideas. They were, too. We adamantly opposed them but felt that they had the right to express whatever they wanted on their own private property. But that would be after this night. The drones in Washington felt differently. They sensed that all faiths should band together as one. The floating consciousness in the universe also known as God overtook the minds of the populace. The billions of people in America had built up a network to set the human race back thousands of years…all by means of the governments of the world.

They still used electricity and motor vehicles. Even the Amish were convinced to use such luxuries. The only difference was that they flogged themselves for using “sinful means.” The top three faiths, Christianity, Judaism, and Islam all amalgamated into a single faith they called JMM after Jesus, Mohammed, and Moses. Other faiths just hitched their wagon to JMM. The entire country had been mired down in the conflict between believers and atheists.

When it came to the night of our coup, we did so with relative ease. It was night and there were lights powered by electricity and candles too. Hinduism and Buddhism and any other faith and even those who claimed they were “spiritual” also landed in our crosshairs. We drove in classic cars and lived amongst the trees. What we had to do was slow them down and continue our social media network. One of the billionaires in our group had established her own social network InAbsentia. The name was a reference to the way she left the company after creating it. We still don't know who exactly was the one behind the site.

We charged forward, nonetheless.

“Did you gas up the car?” I asked Kamara Stephan.

“Yes, I cleaned it, too.”

Kamara looked like me. She had dark brown skin. But she was slightly smaller than me at five feet three inches. My five feet eight inches all could squeeze into the vehicle. It was a yellow speedster. Six speed manual transmission and leather seats enticed and kept us focused on our task.

It was just Natta and Kamara with me that night. All we had to do was keep the streets of Wilmington, Delaware ready for the revolution. In the struggle for freedom of thought that had been taken over the country, the First State had become a trailblazer in the faith movement. People allowed God to be not just a private, personal matter but a matter of government. I mean there were people in halls of state that avowed for the existence of the nonexistent. Any semblance of the reality was stamped out, or at least attempted to be trampled over in real life. It was like a blanket had not been placed over people’s heads but they acted as if the blanket had blocked their eyes. That’s how awful things had gotten.

We looked like a postcard. I was in the driver seat. Natta sat in the front passenger seat and Kamara prepared for war in the rear right passenger seat. The convertible roved over the road smoothly like yolk sliding down a hot skillet. We went around with other classic car drivers in red, blue, green, black, white, and silver just to list a few. The entire operation had been planned out for months. We met in the middle of the street. The cars revved. I used a megaphone.

“Are we tired of the oppression and poor mental health?”

“Yeah!”

“What we’re doing tonight is in response to the bad sign of psychologically bereft people who have ironically called us crazy. Except they don’t acknowledge their irony.”

“That’s right!”

“We’re going to go into this as a bloodless revolt. We must be ready for their counter, however. That’s why we have rifles. That’s why we have pistols. We have to be ready for the onslaught of their war machine. We must reject the conglomerate!”

“Reject! Reject! Reject!” They called after my voice. I kept looking around and seeing how strong the rational-individualist-capitalists actually were. We stretched for miles and took up the space in our classic cars and weapons concealed in the vehicles just in case. I didn’t want bloodshed but we were prepared for any attacks that may’ve come our way.

I kissed Natta and we drove on to do serious damage. Fire burned. We lit their churches, mosques, synagogues and temples ablaze. We smashed their crosses and stars and crescent moons and stars. We destroyed their prayer mats and meditation rooms. War wasn’t hell, it was the truth. In all our activity we didn’t fire a single shot. The opposition came out in full force and we prepared for their weapons which consisted of swords and shields, spears. The Mystic- collectivist-altruists brought on their force but first had to pray. They prayed long and they prayed hard but the answer was not just “No” it was “invalid.”

We continued to do our damage to their property because we had declared war upon their sacred “virtues.” We had mapped out an entire network starting from Delaware and extending throughout the country and the world. We had grown weary of their constant plea to ask for forgiveness and love your neighbor more than yourself and your enemy! We were a band of individuals tied by a single goal: to annihilate the idea of the unknown and the unknowable.

Our efforts to keep this entire machine intact was to let them brandish their weapons while we continued to set more fires to their property. Who needed the police and the national guard when they allowed such flames to rise. If they wanted to do good to those who went against them, that was their problem, not ours. The amalgamation of different faiths all over the world began to fall gradually. With the conflagration building higher and higher, we rejoiced at our victory, but knew the fight was not over. As the night turned to day, we carried on our banner for reason and continued to look at reports from InAbsentia from New York City, Sydney, Paris, Capetown, Brazil, Hong Kong, Canada, and the Arctic. Flames inspired some monks to douse themselves with gasoline and light themselves on fire, too. The flickering lights from the charred remains of houses of worship warmed our souls.

Then, a pastor came out to meet me. Reverend Dr. Gorlin Camp stepped to me. I put down my megaphone and looked him in the eye.

“We have sustained tremendous damage to our locations. We know that our God will deliver us and forgive you for your atrocities. You are our enemy and we love you. There’s nothing we can do to reverse all of this. Will you let us have some sense of peace now?”

“No.”

I then called for more fires to start on this ground in Delaware and every corner of the globe. We reduced their holy places to tinder. All of the ashes mounted up like burnt leaves. The continuous blaze enraged the parishioners of the conglomerate but we kept going with our plan.

Dr. Camp continued. “If we, Mr. Lo, cannot come to an agreement––”

“I think we already have,” I said. “We have scorched your homes. And of course you will say that you don’t need structures and that two and three agree, but you have to remember your Jewish and Islamic members who seek vengeance. Even Christians fight but have to ask for forgiveness for the ‘wrongs’ they do like make war. Prepare for the day where you will be free to worship however you like but you will not do it on our property. We may live amongst the trees now, but we’ve got motor vehicles that are like your chariots but are supercharged and have better leather.”

“We will go to Washington to establish a new clause that will adjudicate how you can have your mixture of faiths without bothering the proud non-believers in the theory of God.” I stood my ground like a B-boy in his classic stance.

“You have it,” the pastor capitulated. He turned around, the flames still reflecting in his glasses.

More cheers arose from around us. The entire exchange of words had been captured on video so the entire Earth witnessed the balance of power tip in favor of the rational-individualist-capitalists.